Swept Away, page 24
He lifted his shoulder in a quick shrug, much as she’d often seen Schyler do. “It didn’t once occur to me.”
“I’d like to hear you,” Richard told her. “Schyler and half of Baltimore were enchanted with your singing.”
She didn’t know why she chose it, she just opened her mouth and out flowed the first words of “If You Are But a Dream.” To her embarrassment, when she glanced at Schyler, his eyes reflected every sweet thing that had ever happened between them. At the song’s end, the men applauded her.
“This must be tiring for you,” Richard said. “If you want to rest, we’ll excuse you.” She thanked him and grasped the opportunity to be alone, to think and to settle her nerves. Saturday morning and early afternoon went smoothly and without incident. She admitted to herself that she could like her father if only she could come to terms with his having deserted her mother and her when she was only two years old. It seemed out of character, but many men had reformed as they aged and matured. She’d do as she promised herself before leaving home; she would not voluntarily say or do anything that would cause Schyler pain.
However, she would learn that it was not she alone who could guide the course of their weekend. “How about getting a lesson in crabbing,” Richard said to her when they’d finished lunch Saturday afternoon. “I’ll get what we need, you just bring yourself.”
Her instincts told her to invite Schyler to join them, and she did. However, Richard spoke before Schyler had a chance to answer. “I thought we’d give him some time to work on his project while you and I enjoy getting acquainted.”
She hid her disappointment when she realized he didn’t want Schyler to go with them. Richard baited the line with some uncooked chicken and dropped it behind a boulder at the edge of the water.
“That’s all there is to it.”
“You mean catching crabs is that simple? I had no idea.”
He smiled, and she liked the way his eyes sparkled. “If you just want a mess or two, yes. But commercial fishermen bait with herring or some other oily fish and use wire crab pots that are constructed in such a way as to trap the poor crabs when they smell the fish and go after it. Just say they can get in, but they can’t get out. The pots sit on the sand below the water with a long string and the crabbers’ marked buoy attached to them. Frankly, it’s a hazard. The men have to wear special gloves, and—”
“What’s dangerous about it?”
“Those crab claws are like scissors. Anyway, that’s enough of that. I’ve been worried about a number of things that just plain mystify me, Veronica, and I believe in cutting to the chase. There’s no point in my trying to guess at the answers. I’m aware that you must have been taught some things about me that have sullied my image with you. But first, why is your name Overton? When you were conceived and when you were born, Esther was my wife, sharing my bed.”
How dare he question her mother’s virtue? “Are you saying you doubt you’re my father?”
He bristled at that, and she could see that he had a temper. Well tough, she had one, too.
“How could you think such a thing?” he asked. “Of course not. I want to know why your last name isn’t Henderson when I did not give permission for your name to be changed.”
“You ought to know the answer to that,” she returned hotly. “I bear the name of the man who cared for me and my mother after you walked out on us and deserted us.”
He stood looming over her, his eyes wide and the veins in his face and neck protruding to twice their normal size. “What the devil do you mean by that? How dare you or anybody tell me I deserted my family! If a man said those words to me, I would flatten him and stand on him. Young lady, you apologize this minute.”
“You’re asking me to believe my mother lied to me. I’m sorry. She isn’t here to defend herself, and I won’t listen to a word against her.”
Shaking uncontrollably, she gazed at him standing three feet from her as out of control as she. Shocked at the way their budding rapprochement had deteriorated, she turned and ran back to the house.
“What happened?” Schyler asked as she plowed into him, unseeing.
“It’s no use. I tried. For both our sakes, I promised myself this would be a loving weekend. But he wouldn’t have it that way. If you want to know what happened, ask him. I’m going home.”
“But you can’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do. I’m not staying here in this house.”
“All right. I’ll take you home.”
She’d never heard desperation shout so loudly, nor seen a man’s hopes wither as he stood before her, but she heard it and saw it in Schyler. She hurt for him, but the pain that throbbed in her heart was for herself. She’d never been so at sea. She had to find out why her mother had wanted her to meet Richard Henderson, but he was no longer a source of information because they had just aborted their relationship.
Chapter 11
Schyler parked in front of the little brown town house at 31 Comfort Road and turned to the somber-faced woman beside him. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped. When you put your arms around him as we entered the front door, I could barely contain what I felt.”
“I’m sorry, too. Will you…come in for a few minutes?”
He knew she was reaching for some way to bridge the chasm that gaped between them, and he’d make the effort, but not right then. He was still dealing with the shock of having his hopes scattered around him like so much discarded rubble.
“Not this evening. I told Dad I’d be back as soon as I took you home.”
“You’re going back to Tilghman now?”
“I’ve got to talk with him. I’ll call you later tonight.”
She turned to face him. “I thought this was it, that after what happened, you’d break things off.”
He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. “If you didn’t mean anything to me, I’m sure I would.”
He got out, got her bag out of the trunk, opened the passenger’s door and walked with her to her front door. He didn’t feel affectionate, but he didn’t want to widen the breach or to hurt her, so he kissed her briefly on the mouth, looked down at her and at his dreams.
“I imagine you feel as rotten as I do. Remember, nothing stays the same. Call you later.”
Driving across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge on his way back to Tilghman, he wondered not for the first time what his father might have said or asked that set off Veronica. He was certain that Richard had planned that crabbing trip to the beach in order to have time alone with her, and he knew his father didn’t bite his tongue when he had something to say.
“I expect you broke all the speed limits again,” Richard said when Schyler walked into the house at eight o’clock that evening.
“You could say I didn’t waste any time. What do I smell?”
“Stuffed crabs with shrimp sauce.”
“Any garlic left in the state of Maryland?” Small talk. When had he and his father ever been self-conscious around each other? After one of the best meals he’d had recently, he cleaned up the kitchen and went to his room to get his thoughts together. But Richard didn’t give him time to simmer.
He answered the soft knock. “Come on in. I’d planned to go have a chat with you, but as long as you’re here, have a seat.”
Richard sat on the bench at the foot of Schyler’s king-size bed. “I don’t remember things having been strained between us, and I don’t want that to happen now.”
“There’s no need for that now, either. Tell me what happened out there.”
Richard related to Schyler his exchange with Veronica. “It’s been galling me that her name is Overton, and that Esther allowed another man to adopt my daughter. Every time I think about it, my gut ties in a knot.”
“And that caused the argument, I suppose.”
Richard got up and began to walk from one end of the room to the other. “No. I told her that if a man had said to my face that I deserted my family, I’d knock him down and stomp him. Yes, I was furious and demanded that she apologize, but she’s been so thoroughly brainwashed for so long that she refused to believe Esther could have lied to her. She walked off, and it was a good thing, because I was almost insane with anger. Damn it, I loved my family, I…never mind. That’s water under the bridge. It’s enough that I have to live with the pain.”
“She told me you’d deserted her and her mother, but I didn’t believe it, and I told her it was impossible. I’ve known since she met you that she believed that story and that her coolness toward you was because of it.”
“Not one word of it is true.”
He stood, jammed his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the doorjamb. Just as Schyler had feared, he stood between them.
“I knew that without your telling me. I…I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Richard stopped pacing and pointed a finger at him. “Now you just wait a minute. This has nothing to do with you and Veronica. I’ve told you before that it’s between her and me.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m split in half right now. I left her to come back here and comfort you, but my mind and my spirit are in Owings Mills with her. If I dropped it, I’d at least have my sanity.”
“You can’t drop it, Son, because it won’t leave you. Loving a person doesn’t mean things are perfect, and you’ll learn that whatever and whoever gets in its way has to move, because love doesn’t give quarter. So when you decide you can quit loving her, remember the story of my life.”
Schyler ran his fingers through his hair as a restlessness suffused him. “Dad, if she grew up with lies about you, what about me? The social workers led me to believe that my mother was probably little more than a streetwalker. Suppose that isn’t true either.”
He had to wait a while for his father’s response. “You’re up against a hard rock right now with a lot of things piled on you, so don’t go adding another one.”
“But wouldn’t I feel a lot better if I discovered that what I believe isn’t true?”
“And how would you feel if you discovered that it is true?”
He shrugged. “I can take it. Having you for a father has been the best buffer a kid could have. None of that can hurt me.” He looked at his watch. “I told Veronica I’d call her, and I don’t know what kind of shape she’s in, so—”
“I’ll be in the solarium if you still want to talk.”
“Thanks, I…thanks.”
He took a moment to meditate, then dialed her number.
She lifted the receiver hesitantly, anxious as to what the call would bring. She’d had five hours during which to relive the encounter with her father and the silence that had hung so ominously between Schyler and her as he drove her home. In her heart, she knew she didn’t want a break with her father, and the thought of a permanent breach with Schyler had robbed her of her appetite.
“Hello.”
“This is Schyler. How are you right now?”
Her heartbeat fluttered madly. “I’m so glad you called. I’ve gone over and over that incident with my father. I…Oh, Schyler, I’m drained.”
“We all are, but this isn’t the end of the world, Veronica. We’ll salvage what we can; if we can’t mend this, we’ll be adults, say we tried and get on with our lives.”
She bristled. “I forgot how mad you can make me when you put yourself to it. If you’re telling me you can snap your fingers and I’ll be out of your life, hang up, or I will.”
“Honey, what’s wrong with you? Your misunderstanding is with your father, not me, and I’m talking about the two of you. Get off your high horse. Oh, for Pete’s sake. I didn’t call to aggravate you.”
She shook her head in dismay. If she weren’t so vulnerable to him, she wouldn’t say things to him that caused misunderstandings. “I know you didn’t call to upset me; it’s just that I’m…I’m—”
“You’re miserable, and that’s understandable.”
She rubbed her forehead with the tips of the fingers on her left hand, symbolically erasing her pain. “The more I mull over this, the more I realize I don’t want a break with my father, but, Schyler, he implied something awful about my mother. Somebody has to straighten out this mess. I can’t figure out whether she was telling me she wronged him or me, both or neither of us. And Father reacted so harshly. He erupted in fury.”
“He’s got a temper all right, and if he’s wrongfully accused, anger hardly covers it.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “I suppose you noticed that my own temper takes a lot of managing. Since Mama never got angry at anybody, I can see where I got it,” she said when he questioned the humor in the situation.
“I suppose he told you I defended my mother. That finished it. I walked off because I figured he couldn’t stand the sight of me after that…that awful business out there on the beach. I wish I hadn’t gone home with you.”
“You’re wrong. Did you think you two would never have a confrontation, that you’d tiptoe around each other pretending things were getting better? Now that you know where you stand with each other because you’ve aired your grievances, maybe you can make some progress.”
“You haven’t given up?”
“It takes more than a little wind to knock me over. I won’t say I’m unaffected; what wounds you or my dad also hurts me, so I don’t feel any better than you do. But I know both of you deep down, and I still have hope. Could we see each other tomorrow? I need a professional consultation with you.”
She couldn’t imagine what for. “Sure. Where? How about lunch or dinner?”
“Dinner. I’ll cook,” he said.
“It’s a date.”
“I’ll send a car for you at six-thirty. Till then—”
“Wait. May I speak with my father?”
She knew she’d surprised him, but if she didn’t reach out to her father now, it would be that much harder in the days to come.
“You want…Sure. Good night, sweetheart.”
She made the sound of a kiss. “Good night, honey.”
“Hello, Veronica. I’m glad you want to talk,” Richard said, “because we have to settle a few things. But meantime, I want you to remember that a father’s love isn’t easily lost. It is without end.”
“Thanks. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I’ve been on edge ever since Mama told me to find you. I hope we…that we can get past this explosive topic.”
“We’ll get past it, now that I know what I’m up against. Try not to worry, and come to see me often. Your room is here for you.”
She thanked him and meant it, though she wouldn’t have thought his anger had dissipated so thoroughly. Just like me, she thought. She hung up, warmed up the soup she hadn’t been able to eat, made a sandwich and ate her supper.
She answered her doorbell at exactly six-thirty the following evening and could hardly suppress a laugh when she looked at the man standing there in his chauffeur’s uniform. She followed him to the silver gray Lincoln Town Car and settled in for the twenty-minute ride, wondering what Schyler was up to. She hadn’t gone for broke but had worn a royal blue Fuji silk tunic over matching pants and a single strand of long pearls.
When he pursed his lips in a mock whistle, she knew she’d chosen the right thing. He stopped her just inside the door and opened his arms to her. She hadn’t known what to expect, and as her blood zinged through her throbbing veins, she reached out to him.
“Baby, come here and let me hold you.” Tension gathered in her and she flung her arms open wide, eager for his touch, his taste, his scent, all of him. He lifted her up and twirled her around, but she wanted, needed more. She grasped his shoulders and shimmied down his body until she could reach his lips.
“Kiss me. Love me. Tell me it’s all right with us,” she whispered.
He held her away from him and looked down into her face, and what she saw in his eyes nearly unglued her. His mouth was on her then, and her parted lips soon knew the wonder of his tongue claiming, branding and loving her. She could hardly bear the tenderness with which he held her close, stroking her back and telling her that he needed her as much as she needed him.
He tipped up her chin with his right index finger. “Honey, you know it isn’t perfect. It’s never been, but you also know that it will take more than an argument or a misunderstanding to keep us apart. We’ll work through this. You took a big step telling my dad you hadn’t wanted to upset him and in letting me know that, cool as things were between us, you’d still help me if I needed you.”
She let her head rest on his shoulder. “Is there really some way I can help you?”
He led her to the living room. “I meant that. I’ll tell you after dinner.”
“Thanks for that classy trip over here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d send a taxi for you. Since I was stuck here in the kitchen, I sent the next best thing.”
She trailed him into the kitchen, sat on a stool and crossed her knees. “Want me to help?”
“What? And ruin my reputation? Definitely not.” He tossed the salad with what seemed like homemade dressing. “You’re my guest.”
After their meal of roast chicken, potato fritters, steamed asparagus, arugula salad and double-chocolate ice cream, he closed the kitchen door and headed for his den.
“I’ll clean the kitchen tomorrow. Want to hear some Buddy Guy?”
She couldn’t believe it. “You like him, too? I love the man, but I’ve had enough of the blues for one day.”
His grin began around the edge of his lips and fought its way to his remarkable eyes. “Me, too, for that matter. Veronica, hearing my dad swear that he’d been misrepresented to you brought back a question that has plagued me since my childhood. The agency records indicated the possibility that my mother may have been a street woman, and one of my foster mothers as much as told me that. I want to know if it’s true.”
“But…Schyler, do you want to dig into something that may make you unhappy?”
