The Tolling of Mercedes Bell: A Novel (19 page)

“I wanted to see if it was good enough for you.”

“And is it?”

“I don’t know. I may have to have another bite.” She looked away from him and stared challengingly at her daughter without blinking. Mercedes excused herself from the table and fled to the ladies’ room.

“That’s all I wanted,” she replied, dismissively, and pushed the plate back toward Jack.

Germaine looked at her grandfather, shocked. He shrugged his shoulders and poured himself another margarita.

M
ercedes walked up the path to the old house alone, heavy of heart. Philip and Eleanor had dropped her off after a discouraging visit to the hospital and had taken Germaine on an excursion.

Once Elizabeth’s condition stabilized, she would be moved to a convalescent hospital, and when her bones were healed from the fall, she would be moved to an assisted living facility. She was not able to care for herself any longer, and had suffered neglect enough over the past few years. Her days in the grand home were over.

Eleanor had directed Mercedes to begin purging old clothes from her grandmother’s bedroom, starting with the campaign chest at the foot of the canopy bed. The trunk was full of the tiny woman’s hand-knitted dresses and silk shawls, along with memorabilia dating back to the 1940s. Like every cupboard and cabinet in the house, it would have to be sorted through.
But not immediately,
Mercedes thought.

She walked into Elizabeth’s bedroom, sat down in the soft pink chair, pulled out a phone book, and began researching elder care
facilities in the area. She made many calls and filled several pages with notes her parents could use. Next she called the airlines. There was room on the return flight that Jack was taking the following day, so she changed their reservations.

Both parents had vied for Jack’s attention the last two days. Philip had taken him under his wing and the two seemed to be old friends already. Eleanor was hell-bent on learning every detail of his personal life. She’d been ecstatic to hear that both his parents had graduated from Stanford, and that his father had been a high-society physician.

Jack parked under a royal palm on the side of the house and came in through the kitchen door. The lovely old estate had begun to feel like home. He liked the grandeur of its many rooms and the pastoral beauty of the grounds. It was a big man’s house.

Mercedes ran to greet him and he leaned over to kiss her, pulling her arms around him. The resonant silence of the house enveloped them.

“Where is everybody?”

“On an outing.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said.

High clouds and thick haze obscured the sun. The light seemed to come from everywhere at once, leaving no shadows.

They walked steadily up the inclining road, amidst the warning calls of the quail in the brush and mockingbirds perched on posts. Neighborhood cats skulked in the undergrowth. How remote the affairs of the office now felt; how long it seemed they’d been gone. And to think, on the other hand, that Elizabeth had lost her home in an instant!

They reached an overlook where a sturdy wood bench had been installed on the edge of a steep drop, sequestered from the road by a
thicket. They sat down to take in the view of the populous valley below, dotted with swimming pools, transected by roads and freeways. A small airplane flew past, towing a glider. The sun became faintly visible through the overcast, like a silver dollar suspended over the scored and cratered landscape. They leaned back to rest in the cool, fragrant air. Jack put his arm around Mercedes’s shoulders. A soft breeze rustled the leaves and her hair.

“I’m really glad I came with you,” he said quietly. “Now more than ever I believe we’re right for each other. You have every quality I could possibly want in a life partner. You’re kind, dependable, intelligent, beautiful, and a lovely mother. And you have a great deal of forbearance.”

She chuckled.

“You have character and you come from a fine family. Every time we go out, I’m proud to be by your side. I know I’ll never get tired of talking to you, of looking at you, of enjoying your sense of humor. I’m a very lucky man and I know it.”

“I think I can provide well for you and Germaine,” he offered. “I want to make you happy. I want to be a worthwhile stepfather to Germaine. She certainly deserves one. I want to show her the world. I want to help her reach for the stars. You’ve made my life magical and I love you as I have never loved another human being. I cannot imagine the future without you.”

“Mercedes, will you marry me?”

He looked at her beseechingly, while she cast her eyes over the valley. The sun broke through the overcast. She felt doors opening all around her and inside her.

“Of course I’ll marry you. I’d be thrilled to be your wife! Besides, Germaine would kill me if I said no.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her squarely on the mouth, just as he had the first time.

How different the world looked when she opened her eyes. Jack was studying her face. He was hers now, forever, and she was his. They would be by each other’s side through middle age into old age, as their hair turned gray and they became wrinkled with the years like Elizabeth.

Her heart raced as they clutched each other, laughing and kissing and crying with joy. It was a miracle, the answer to her prayers, reparations for all her suffering. Life as she and Germaine had known it was forever changed.

“Oh, we’re going to have such a great life together,” he proclaimed.

Mercedes envisioned waking up next to Jack every morning and finally being able to make love to him. As if reading her mind, he pulled her up onto his lap and wrapped his hands around her, feeling muscle and bone, and the soft places where a husband’s hands might freely roam. She would soon be his entirely, one heart and one flesh.

Three crows landed in the branches overhead. One cawed, another croaked, and the third chortled deep in the back of his throat. Mercedes looked up. The third crow turned his head sideways and looked at her with a shiny black eye, his blue-black feathers as smooth as oiled wood.

Jack kissed her neck, buried his face in her hair, and inhaled her womanly scent as if he would never get enough.

“Bella, you’re going to be my wife! I just can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe it either,” she murmured.

Presently the crow chortled again and took flight, followed by his two companions.

Jack and Mercedes descended the mountain and entered the house. She fixed a plate of food, which they were sharing on the couch in the living room when Germaine bounded through the door. She was hauling two large shopping bags and was dressed entirely in
new clothes. Mercedes clapped her hands over her mouth. Nearly all of her daughter’s long, thick, glossy hair was gone. What remained was a pixie haircut, shorter by far than Eleanor’s.

Next through the door came Eleanor, wearing gray cotton gloves and a broad-brimmed magenta hat that matched her dress. A magenta-and-gray handbag was draped over her arm, which she held out at an angle for maximum effect. The ever-patient Philip followed, laden with more bags, which he set down on the carpet. He greeted them and headed straight for the study to make himself a cocktail.

Germaine spun around to show her new navy blue polka-dot dress, red petticoat, and beautifully tailored navy blue coat, patent leather shoes, white leggings, and, of course, the haircut. The gawky little girl who left the house in braids and loafers had returned a chic young lady. Her long, beautiful neck was now visible beneath the short hair. Mercedes was speechless. Jack smiled at Germaine’s obvious delirium.

“Mama, Grandmother took me to a real beauty salon and had all my hair cut off! Then she took me shopping and bought me all these new clothes!”

“So I see! That was very . . . generous of your grandmother—and of Grandpa,” Mercedes said without looking at Eleanor.

Eleanor, for her part, focused a taunting stare at Mercedes.

“Someone
had to do
something.
The poor child looked like a vagabond. I couldn’t have her running around town that way any longer. People must be wondering what in the world has become of me to allow my only grandchild to . . .”

Seeing Jack’s eyes narrow and his smile fade, Eleanor stopped talking, reclined on a nearby chaise, and sighed. The spikes of her gray suede high heels protruded like ice picks. Jack looked at Mercedes and Germaine, and felt a new appreciation for Philip’s love of alcohol.

Germaine frowned and deposited her bags near her mother. Mercedes put her hands on Germaine’s fragile shoulders. The child looked into her mother’s eyes, the frown intensifying into a scowl.

In a soft voice Mercedes said, “I think you always look nice, and you looked fine this morning when you left the house. You’re always neat and clean and well mannered and nice to people. You’re a smart, good girl. Other people’s opinions of you don’t matter nearly as much as what you think of yourself. And your grandparents love you, you know that. Grandmother didn’t mean there’s anything
wrong
with you. She just wanted you to have prettier clothes and a haircut
she
liked. Now why don’t you show us what’s in all these bags? It looks like Christmas in here!”

Mercedes stroked the back of her daughter’s newly shorn head. She contained her fury and reminded herself they would be leaving the next day—a fact she could spring on Eleanor whenever she felt like it.

One by one Germaine went through the bags, pulling out lovely dresses, sweaters, shoes, slacks, blouses, pajamas, and even a navy purse—practically a new wardrobe. Eleanor’s comments now forgotten, Germaine was her old exuberant self. Eleanor watched from the chaise, her seat of victory, enjoying her granddaughter’s excitement and knowing that the new clothes would always remind them of her.

She kicked off her spiked heels and removed her enormous hat, which she carefully placed on the end of the chaise. In a shrill voice, she directed Philip to bring her a drink. Jack left the room and headed for the study.

Mercedes helped Germaine fold and gather all the new clothes and carry them upstairs to her room. When they were alone together, she asked, “So was the haircut something you wanted?”

“No, but Grandmother didn’t give me any choice. She just took me to the salon and told them to do it. I said we should ask you first.”

“How do you like it?”

“It feels kind of weird,” she said, rubbing her exposed neck, “but Grandmother likes it. She says ‘no girl with any style has long hair,’” imitating Eleanor, with her hands on her skinny hips, which she swung from side to side like Mae West.

Mercedes laughed. “I know, I know. I’ve heard it all my life. But it
does
make you look older, and it’s very stylish. Your hair will grow, if that’s what you want. I know you had a good time. What a lot of beautiful clothes you have!”

When they descended the staircase, the men’s voices could be heard from the study. A discussion of Elizabeth Stearn’s estate was under way. Ever the scrupulous lawyer, Jack always seemed to be working.

When the men emerged, Jack caught Mercedes’s eye and a bolt of electricity passed between then. Now was the time to let their secret out of the bag.

Jack asked Germaine to come outside with them for a minute. She was immediately suspicious. She looked to her mother and then back to Jack, who put his finger to his mouth to indicate secrecy. This only heightened her suspense.

He led them to a bench in a copse of orange trees, in a far corner of the yard that couldn’t be seen from the house. They sat down on the bench with Germaine in the middle.

“Your mom and I have some important news to tell you, before we tell anyone else.”

Wide-eyed, the girl nodded and squeezed Mercedes’s hand.

“What I’ve been hoping for a long time is that the three of us could be a real family. So today I asked your mother to marry me.”

Germaine looked at Mercedes with wild expectation.

“And I said yes!” Mercedes exclaimed.

Germaine cried out and hugged her mother. Then she jumped
into Jack’s lap, threw her arms around him, and exclaimed, “I knew it! I can’t wait! You’ll be my dad!”

Mercedes scooted over, Jack reached out his long arms to encircle them both, and Mercedes began to cry.

Germaine wiggled free. “Yippee!” she shouted, flinging her arms into the air. “Jack’s going to be my dad!” She spun around on her tiptoes with her skinny little arms extended, a swirl of polka dots and red petticoats.

Jack started laughing and pulled out his handkerchief. He wiped Mercedes’s face, which was streaming with tears even as she laughed at Germaine’s antics.

“When will the wedding be?” Germaine asked. “I can’t wait to tell Anne!”

Jack grinned. “As soon as your mother and I can plan it the way we want.”

“Can I go tell Grandpa and Grandmother?”

“Absolutely,” Mercedes replied.

Jack and Mercedes watched Germaine fly into the house as quickly as her legs could carry her, threading her way through the orange trees. She clattered up the steps to the kitchen, threw open the door, and shouted out the news at the top of her lungs.

They stayed behind, kissing on the bench beneath the bountiful trees. Jack slipped his hands beneath her sweater to touch the silky skin of her lean back.

“I just can’t wait to make you mine,” he whispered, “one hundred percent—
after
there is just the right ring on that finger.” He ran two fingers up and down her ring finger. “It’s a shame I can’t just drag you upstairs right now and have my way with you.” He collected a handful of her hair and gave it a yank. Mercedes laughed out loud.

“Oh, you don’t know how tempting that is,” she said, imagining her mother’s horror at such behavior.

“Bella, my love,” he said, “I think I do.”

The minute they got back to the house, Philip vigorously shook Jack’s hand, clapped him on the back, and welcomed him to the family. He swept Mercedes into his arms and kissed her cheek noisily.