Getting Some Of Her Own (21 page)

“Mama, I can't encourage a man, because I, well, you know I can't have children, and it wouldn't be fair for me to become involved . . . I mean, to lead a man on when I—”

“Don't be ridiculous, Susan. Not every man needs to prove his masculinity by fathering a brood. Besides, you can find one who's already a father.”

“Yes, ma'am.” If only it were that easy. But it wasn't, and it wouldn't be. Lucas Hamilton was the man she wanted, and he had already indicated a desire for children. From the time Rudy went to live with Ann Price, she had avoided Lucas as much as possible, for she feared testing his professional integrity and wanted to spare him the dilemma of choosing between her and what he saw as his duty.

 

 

Lucas knew how involved Susan had become with Rudy and Nathan and chose to pretend unawareness of it. He realized that Susan needed the children, and especially Rudy, although he could not understand why her maternal instinct expressed itself as it did. She had given him a wide berth recently, and he had allowed it, for he had questions about her that disturbed him, and he didn't want to care more for her than he did. He'd had a satisfying meeting with his team at Jackson Enterprises that morning, and he'd rather not alter his mood with his concern about Susan.

“I'd give anything to understand women,” he said to himself. Calvin Jackson had let his mother down when she needed him most, but after more than a third of a century, she still cared for him. Susan Pettiford loved children, but she was thirty-four years old and still had none of her own. Verna, the woman to whom he was formerly engaged, could lie like a stick under him in bed, and yet, he'd walked in on her thrashing like a wild woman beneath a man she'd just met. If there was a man who could explain to him the mystery of woman, he wanted to meet the guy.

He parked in front of General Hospital, got out and headed for his weekly meeting with the man he still couldn't manage to address as Father, though he found that being with him became increasingly easier.

Calvin sat in a recliner beside the window. “I'm glad you could come today.” He said that on each of Lucas's weekly visits, as if he didn't expect him. When Lucas commented on that, Calvin said, “I take nothing and no one for granted, least of all you. Have a seat.” He glanced toward the nearby window. “I see you drive a town car. It doesn't surprise me. A man should carry himself according to his means.”

He observed that his father sat in a chair, rather than the wheelchair. “You're making progress. When do you think you'll go home?”

“Tomorrow morning. You're right. I'm moving along much faster than the doctors thought I would, and I only take a painkiller at bedtime. I'd like to go to Stewart Mineral Springs for a couple of weeks.”

“You can't do that,” he heard himself say. “It's in California. You'd have to fly across the country. Sitting upright for five hours would put you right back in the hospital. Why not Warm Mineral Springs, Florida? It's so much closer, and you could travel in a limousine rather than a plane. You'd be more comfortable.”

He could see the man studying him, evaluating his ideas while sizing him up. “I don't doubt that you're right on all counts, but the springs in California have special healing properties. That place is more than a spa; a Native American healer guides you through the healing ceremony.”

He didn't expect his father to take his advice, but he expressed his view nonetheless. “It's too far,” he said flatly. “You'll reverse all the gains you've made. What's the point in sweating through those strenuous exercises only to do something foolish and land back here in this bed?”

Calvin's laugh surprised him. “You don't bite your tongue, do you?”

“No, and from what I've observed, neither do you. Why not rest at home for a couple of weeks and then decide whether you need to go to one of those places.”

“The pampering I'd get in a spa would certainly be more pleasant, but you're right, and I'll take your advice. You don't happen to play rummy, do you?”

Surely, his shock registered on his face, in fact, in his whole person. Calvin Jackson did not want to recuperate at home, because he would be alone there with nothing to do. A man who had everything . . . and nothing. “No, and I'm surprised that you do.”

“That was what I did on cold nights while in college. You couldn't have paid me to go outside. That town was like a deep freezer.”

He sat forward, anxious to know about his father's youth. “Where did you go to college?” According to Miriam, his father went to college in Minnesota, but he wanted Calvin Jackson to confirm it.

“The University of Minnesota. I had a choice, and I went as far from Georgia as I could get.”

“Can't say that I blame you. Fifty years ago, Georgia was no place to be. Are either of my grandparents living?”

Calvin looked hard at him, as if he needed to gauge the impact of his answer. “Yes. My mother is alive. She's eighty-eight and still very active.”

He gasped, but quickly gathered aplomb and asked him, “What's her name, address and telephone number? I'm going to see her.”

Calvin reached toward him, but quickly dropped his hand. “You're serious? You do intend to visit her?”

“Of course I do. This coming weekend, if it's all right with her. I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

“Well, I'll be damned. You're a man and a half.” He gave Lucas the information. “Would you like me to tell her to expect a call from you?”

“That would be good. I wouldn't like to shock her too much.”

Calvin lifted his right shoulder in a careless shrug. “You won't shock her. She told me just yesterday that she wanted to meet you. I told her that could take time. She'll be pleased to know that you're the one who raised the matter.”

He'd stayed much longer than usual, but he didn't mind; he'd enjoyed the visit, and he had certainly learned more about his father in that hour and a half than he had on any previous visit with him. “I have to leave now. By the way, is it going to upset your wife if I visit you at home?”

“No more than handing my company over to you upset her. But as long as the money rolls in, she couldn't care less. I hope you'll spend some time with me Mondays as usual.”

“Right. I'll phone you before I head for Georgia.”

“I want you to know that this past hour has brought home to me forcibly what I've done with my life, and I don't deserve your magnanimity.”

 

 

When the plane touched down in Athens, Georgia, that Saturday morning, he could hardly wait to get to the end of his journey. Not since he knocked on Susan Pettiford's front door for the first time had he experienced such a sense of excitement or been so worked up about the approaching unknown. He hailed a taxi and half an hour later he rang the bell at Alma Jackson's front door. He hadn't wondered how she would look, but it surprised him when the diminutive, light-brown-skinned woman opened the door. She looked up at him, and her face brightened into a smile.

“I'm Lucas. Are you my grandmother?”

She nodded and opened her arms as she smiled through her tears. “I never even dreamed that this day would come.”

He bent down and wrapped her in his arms. “Neither did I.”

Arm-in-arm, they walked into the house, and he realized immediately that Calvin Jackson took good care of his mother. “Until Monday of this week, I didn't know about you,” he said, “or I would not have let so many years pass without getting to know you.” They sat opposite each other in chairs upholstered in brown velvet.

“I understand, Lucas, because I didn't know about you either until Calvin decided he'd better get his house in order before undergoing that surgery. Imagine keeping a secret like that one for thirty-five years. Let me look at you. I would have recognized you anywhere, because from head to toe, you look exactly as Calvin did at your age. He told me the story.” She leaned forward. “Can you ever forgive him?”

“He's no more at fault than my mother. What I resent is being deprived of his guidance as a child and, especially, as a teenager.” He rubbed his right cheek almost absentmindedly, a certain sign of awe. “In spite of that, I find that I'm like him in many ways.”

“You certainly are. Do the two of you get along?”

“Things improve each time we're together. I realize that I'm increasingly less inclined to be a smart aleck with him.”

“Good. If you accept him as your father, you should respect him.” She stood, and it continued to surprise him that she wasn't a bigger woman. “I've got dinner ready, so I hope you're hungry.”

“I was too excited to eat on the plane,” he said, following her to the kitchen. She bent to get a pan out of a bottom cabinet. “This is a really nice house, but we have to do something about these cabinets.”

She straightened up. “Like what?”

“Shelves that pull out like a drawer, and you won't have to break your back every time you want a pot or a pan.”

“That's right. Calvin said you're an architect. Your mother must be very proud of you. Do you take good care of her?”

“Yes, ma'am. She wants for nothing. We don't have to eat in the dining room,” he said when she headed that way with a platter of barbecued chicken. “What's wrong with this table?”

That seemed to please her. She held his hand while she said the grace. “Lord, I never dared to pray for this blessing. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

He barely tasted the food, although he realized that she was a good cook, but the entire experience seemed surreal. Overwhelming. “You're the only one of my grandchildren who's ever visited me.”

He stopped chewing, put his fork down and looked at her. “But what about your granddaughters?”

She focused on her plate. “I don't remember what they look like. I've only seen them when I visited Calvin, and it's been years since I was in Danville. Calvin comes to see me about once a month. I haven't seen my daughter-in-law in twenty-six years.”

He gave up eating and leaned back in his chair. “What's the problem? Don't you get along with the family?”

“We've never had a misunderstanding. At least not to my knowledge. I used to send them presents regularly, and I'd get a thank you card from them, but I stopped that when I realized that I didn't hear from the children and their mother unless I sent them something.”

“That's almost unbelievable.”

“You can't imagine what your coming here means to me.” She shook her head as if in wonder. “My grandson. I feel as if my heart will burst.”

They finished the meal of barbecued chicken, grilled tomatoes, string beans, rice, buttermilk biscuits and apple cobblers, and she rose to clear the table.

“I'll do this, Grandmother.” He looked at her and grinned, suddenly flushed with happiness. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Whatever you feel like calling me.”

“Grandmother is too formal. I think I'll call you Nana.”

When he walked into the living room a few minutes later, she sat in a big chair, leaning back with her hands covering her face. “What is it?” he asked her, fearing that she might be emotionally overwhelmed by his presence there. He knelt beside her chair. “Are you all right?”

She moved her hands and looked at him. “I couldn't hold you in my arms when you were a baby or enjoy you in all the little ways that grandparents enjoy their grandchildren. I never got the chance to teach you to love me.”

He moved closer, put his arms around her and his head in her lap. “It's all right, Nana. We'll make up for it.”

Her thin arms eased around his shoulders. “I've been lonely for my family. Oh, I have a lot of friends, my church and my work with the library and the local aid society, but I miss having someone close that I belong to. Your grandfather died when Calvin was four, but he left me with a good insurance policy, and I saved it and used it to send Calvin to school. I made a decent living as a high-school math and physics teacher.”

He sat up and leaned against her chair. “I've always done well in math and physics. Maybe it's in my genes.” She laughed, and he relaxed, grateful that she was apparently off that emotional high. “Don't let me forget about your kitchen,” he said, knowing that he wouldn't forget, but doing his best to shift her attention to a less emotional topic.

“You mean the drawers?”

“Right. That, and any other changes that will make life easier for you. Would you like a ride up and down those stairs?”

“Well, I do get tired of hiking up those stairs sometimes.”

“I'll see what we can do.”

“I always wanted my grandchildren to be an intimate part of my life,” she said, “but I didn't even ask the Lord for a grandson like you. Whatever you do for me, I will appreciate, but all I need from you is love. I'll be happy with that.”

Later, he went through the house. “Who did this?” he asked her of a large landscape painting.

“I did,” she told him. “Painting is my hobby.”

“This is interesting, and it's good work,” he said. “I'm getting a better idea of who I am and why I do what I do.”

“Do you paint, Lucas?”

“I sure do, and I love art.” He smiled and draped an arm around her shoulder. “Seems I've inherited a lot from you.” She smiled up at him and blinked rapidly, but he had already realized that she valued her composure and was unlikely to lose it.

After going through the house, he walked around the outside, admired the blooming spring flowers and the crepe myrtle trees heavy with red blooms that gave the grounds a festive air. His thoughts went to Susan, who also loved flowers and feminine surroundings. In recent weeks, he had neglected her, and at the moment, he wanted to share with her all that he'd experienced with his grandmother. The day passed swiftly, and at dusk, he prepared to leave.