Wife-In-Law (25 page)
As for Kat, I didn’t know and didn’t want to. Some things are best kept discreet.
Once we settled into our flight, Kat and I were both so worn out from getting ready that we slept most of the way to L.A., then ate in the secure area while we waited for our flight to Hawaii. Once we were settled in the ministateroom on the megajet, we both conked out a fourth of the way to Hawaii and didn’t wake up till the flight attendant announced we were approaching Honolulu.
Stiff, cranky, and jet-lagged, Kat and I spoke in monosyllables till we collected our stuff, then waited to disembark. Her mascara smeared, Kat looked like a raccoon with its finger stuck in an outlet, so I took her straw hat and sunglasses from her carry-on, then handed them to her, with, “Put these on till we can find a place to clean you up.”
Kat jammed the hat on her head, then glared at me as she put on the sunglasses. “There. Do I look socially acceptable enough to be seen in your presence?”
“Whoa.” I retreated, palms up. “I am doing this for you, not me. I just want you to look your best when you go aboard.”
Kat sniffed. “Well, okay.”
The flight attendant came to our door. “Thank you for flying Jumbo Airlines,” she said. “You may now exit the aircraft.”
We took the stairway to the tarmac, where we were greeted by hula girls who gave us real, live leis. The air was perfect, clear and about seventy-eight, with a soft sea breeze. I breathed it in deeply and felt revived, but still crabby.
“Mrs. Callison?” a ground attendant said as she pulled an electric cart up beside us.
“Yes,” Kat and I both responded at the same time, then laughed.
The attendant’s cheeks colored. “If you’ll hop on, I can take you ladies to meet your cruise’s representative.” She checked her clipboard. “That’s Ultimate Cruises?”
“Yes,” we answered in unison, again. Love that VIP treatment.
The attendant smiled as we got onto the cart. “You’re going to love it. It’s my very favorite cruise line in the world. Only three hundred passengers, but five-star, all the way.”
She drove us inside then down the corridors, then through the security doors to the greeting area, where a tall, dark, and handsome man in a black uniform and cap was holding up a sign with the ship’s name, then ours.
“Aloha, ladies,” the driver greeted in a smoky accent I couldn’t place. “Please follow me.” He took us to the limousine parked at the curb, its windows open to the breeze, and a silver wine bucket chilling champagne between the two facing rear seats. The driver handled our luggage, then took us to the ship, where we were welcomed like long-lost relatives.
I worried that our ship was so much smaller than the megaliners moored beside it, but when the handsome steward opened the doors to our suite, all that went out the window.
“Kat, look!” A gorgeous living room offered a huge flat-screen TV across from a soft leather sectional, and a small dining table sat in front of the glass doors to the balcony. On either side of that, two spacious master suites provided every convenience we could possibly want, including huge soaker tubs.
“Wow,” Kat said as we looked into her bathroom. “Like they say, you git what you pay for.”
I couldn’t wait to eat something wonderful, then try out my big, soft bed. “I’m gonna order in, then take a nap,” I told Kat. “I’m still jet-lagged.”
Kat rubbed her hands together. “Not me. I’m gonna scrub up, then do my face and hair, then check out this little floating paradise.”
“Have fun.” I waved her off, dialing room service. “Hello?” I decided to test them. “I’d like to order a broiled lobster tail and some grilled asparagus. And some iced, decaffienated green tea with agave nectar.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “Very good, madam. May I suggest a nice rosé with that?”
“No, thanks. Just the decaf green tea and agave.”
“We’ll have that up in … thirty minutes.”
Just enough time for me to take a long, hot soak to rehydrate myself after that long flight.
While I was doing that, I heard the luggage arrive. There was a quiet lull, then the steward asked through the bathroom door, “Mrs. Callison, would you like for us to unpack for you?”
Man, this was the life. “Yes, thank you.” Then I went back to soaking and washed my hair. Guilty, I wondered how I was ever going to be grateful when I went back to my ordinary life on Eden Lake Court.
As it turned out, I discovered one very important thing very quickly on that cruise: I do
not
do nothing well.
not
do nothing well.
Three days into the cruise, Kat came into my bathroom while I was getting ready for dinner. Standing behind my right shoulder, she frowned at our reflections in the mirror. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You don’t seem happy.”
“I’m happy,” I said, not sounding convincing even to myself. How could I explain without hurting her feelings? I looked up at her image. “This is all fabulous, a dream. But I’m so used to working …” I shifted my gaze to the cosmetics I used to disguise my shortcomings. “I want to slow down and relax, really I do, but I don‘t know how.” I turned to face her. “I really appreciate your bringing me, but I don’t know how to do this.”
Kat brightened. “You want work? I’ll give you work.” She pointed at me. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
What was she up to?
When she got back, she was carrying a dark blue velvet drawstring bag with my name embroidered on the front in gold. “I was gonna wait till we finished the cruise, but now works better.”
She faced me squarely. “What would you say to being my partner?”
Taken aback, I hastened to clarify, “What exactly do you mean by partner? ’Cause if you’ve decided to switch to women after Greg, I sure wouldn’t blame you, but I’m not—”
Kat burst out laughing. “Lord no. I don’t want you to sleep with me. I just want you to help me keep up with all this money stuff, and my house, and all. And go with me on trips, because you’re my best friend.”
Boy, was that a relief. “Honey, I’d be happy to help you with that for nothing.”
Kat grasped my upper arm, handing me the velvet bag. “You cain’t live on nothin’, so I intend to pay you, and pay you well. Yer worth every penny.” She nodded at the bag. “Go on. Open it.”
I did, and found a business checkbook with my name on it, D.B.A. Krazy Kat, with a balance of $100,000.
Smug, Kat pointed to it. “I am now a limited-liability corporation, and you are CEO. This is your operatin’ account. Use it to set up an office where Greg’s used to be. Get all the equipment we need. If you need more money, just let me know. I already got a good CPA. You can pick our assistant.”
“But Kat,” I worried aloud, “what if we don’t work well together? We’re so different. I don’t want this to come between us.”
“It won’t,” she said, “I trust you completely, and I need yer organization skills and yer honesty to help me keep track of all my money, so I won’t git scammed by some Birdie (!) Madoff. To keep my money insured, I’ve got accounts from Lawrenceville to Switzerland.”
She definitely needed someone to look after her interests. But still … “What if I make a mistake,” I said, “or do something you don’t like?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we git to it,” Kat said. “We’ll talk it out. If you want to quit, there’s a golden parachute, and we can go back to bein’ just friends, but I sure hope that doesn’t happen.”
“I just—”
Kat’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sayin’ you
don’t
want to work with me?”
don’t
want to work with me?”
“No, no,” I backpedaled. “I’d love to work for you. I’m just afraid you wouldn’t like it—or me—if I did.”
“That’s hogwash. You are officially hired.” Kat reached into the bag and pulled out a folded printout from an online bank famous for their high-yield savings accounts. “Job pays in advance, three hundred thousand a year.”
Stunned, I opened the printout and saw the notation of the initial deposit in just that amount, at five percent interest.
“Now let’s go to dinner,” Kat said. “I’m starvin’.”
I started to put on my pink linen blazer, but she stopped me. “Now that you are my CEO, I think you need to dress up a little more. We’re eatin’ with the captain tonight, so I’d like to see you in somethin’ sparkly.”
I’d created a monster!
She went to my closet and came back with an elegant tuxedo jacket demurely studded with fake diamonds beside the lapels and on the cuffs. I’d bought it years ago at the Icing in St. Louis. “Now, this is more like it.” Kat handed it to me, then produced a necklace box. “Here. You can borrow this.” She watched me open it to reveal a necklace of diamond teardrops that would do a rani proud.
Holy crow! Had she lost her mind and gone Elizabeth Taylor on me?
“And don’t look at me like that,” she warned. “Those are real zircons, and necklaces like this are all the rage. I looked last night at supper.”
Whew.
Maybe the other passengers were wearing zircons too. You never know.
“Okay, boss.”
“I am not yer boss,” Kat corrected. “We’re business partners.”
“Okay, partner.” I changed into a black silk camisole that matched my slacks, then put on the necklace and jacket. “You’re right,” I told her with amazement. “It doesn’t look tacky.”
We were the belles of the ball that night. And for the rest of the trip to Bali, I kept myself busy making plans for the new office and thinking up trips to take.
After being spa’d to smithereens in Bali, we were finally on our way back to Hawaii, but I had gotten spoiled, so I treated myself to a massage every day.
“Mmmm.” Stretched out on the massage table on my stomach, every muscle in my body let go into blissful relaxation—except for the ones at the base of my skull. “Could you please do the neckhead joint?” I asked the Nordic Adonis with magic fingers.
“Uf course, madam.” He started working the pressure point immediately.
“Oh, that feels
sooooo
good,” I murmured.
sooooo
good,” I murmured.
His hands shifted to caress my fanny. “I could make madam feel even better,” he singsonged in his Scandinavian accent. He kissed my shoulder, his hand sliding down my fanny where no man but Greg had gone before.
Grabbing the sheet, I whirled into a sitting position. “No. Thank you, no.”
He peered at me, perplexed. “You do not like me?”
Flustered, I felt myself turning red from my toes to my temples. “You’re very nice. And very sexy. I’m just not—”
He leaned back, a light dawning in his face. “Oh. You don’t want man. You want—”
“No, no, no, no,” I sputtered like Woody Allen in one of his first movies that were still funny. “I just want a massage. Nothing more.”
He leaned in to whisper, “You not nun, are you?” He straightened with a sympathetic smile. “I do nuns. Plenty. Never tell.”
Like a nun could afford this. I don’t think so.
“No,” I told him. “I’m not a nun. I just want a massage. No sex.”
How crazy had the world gotten, that nobody could understand celibacy anymore, much less respect it?
Then it occurred to me why he suddenly was so aggressive. We were about to get off the ship, and he’d lose his chance to get a tip for “extras.” “Before we leave,” I promised, “I’ll give you a nice tip.”
Lord, I was paying
not
to have sex.
not
to have sex.
The masseur brightened. “Okay. Massage, no sex, big tip,” he said cheerfully just as Kat walked into my room.
“What?” she asked in amazement.
I closed my eyes and let my head drop back. “I was really hoping to avoid this conversation.”
“Could you please leave us now?” Kat asked him.
The masseur leered at her. “You want massage
wit
sex?” he asked her. “I free now.”
wit
sex?” he asked her. “I free now.”
Kat burst out laughing. “No, no massage with sex. No sex.” She waved him away. “Now, go.”
He picked up his gear. “You change mind, just call for Bjrnstjerne.”
No wonder I couldn’t ever remember his name.
I watched him leave, then apologized to Kat. “Sorry you had to hear that.”
Kat shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She glanced into the living room to make sure we were alone. “I didn’t do it with anybody either.”
“What?” I teased. “Wildwoman Kat?”
She sniffed out a short breath. “We both know that’s pure nonsense. I tried free love before I met Zach, and it just felt like I was giving away important pieces of me for nothing. Once I knew what life was like with him, I could never make love to anybody I didn’t care about and trust with both my body and my heart. I like the male attention here, but for these men, sex is just a job. Thanks to Zach, I know how amazing and spiritual it can be.”
“You’re lucky,” I told her. “I never had that kind of sex with Greg. I loved him platonically, so our love life was hardly spectacular.”
“You were good to him for a long time,” Kat said. “Better than he deserved. Try to think about that, instead.”
“You loved him better than I ever did,” I confessed.
She gave me a sidelong squeeze. Talking about it was healing, somehow, but we didn’t bring him up again.
The ship’s horn sounded, and the intercom came on. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be docking in Hawaii tomorrow morning. Our stewards are ready to assist you with your packing. Please let them know, and they are at your service.”
All good things come to an end. Then the day came that I had dreaded. After two days in the air, we arrived at the Atlanta airport, and it was over. The cold felt sharp when we hurried out to our limo, and Atlanta was as noisy and polluted as it always had been, but now, I noticed it more.
By the time we pulled into my driveway on Eden Lake Court, it was afternoon. I kissed Kat good-bye in the limo, then showed the driver into the house with my bags. I tipped him forty dollars, closed the door on the stale air of my cold, empty house, and watched as he took Kat home.
Bed. I needed a long soak, then my own bed.
I was adjusting the taps when the phone rang. I hurried into the bedroom to pick up. “Hello?”
“Hey.” It was Kat. “It feels really weird in this house all by myself, without the animals, even.” We hadn’t picked them up from the Pet Ritz. She inhaled a juicy sniff. “I got used to havin’ you right across the cabin.”
I could hear the letdown in her voice. “I’m just right across the street,” I said. “You want to spend the night in Amelia’s room?”
“Nah. I’ve gotta get used to it sometime.”
“Well, just call if you change your mind.”
“Okay. Bye.” She hung up.
I had just taken off all my clothes and was adding bath salts when the phone rang again. Again, I hurried to answer in case it was Kat.
It wasn’t. “Where’ve you been?” Mama scolded. “I was getting worried when I didn’t hear from you when y’all landed.”
“Mama, I just walked in the door, and I need to take a bath and soak, because long flights really dehydrate you.”
She paused, then asked, “How long will that take?”
Why did she care? “I don’t know. An hour?” When she didn’t respond, I prodded, “Why do you need to know?”
“I’ve got that surprise for you, all ready for tonight.”
The last thing I wanted was to unwrap some package before I’d even finished unpacking my suitcases, but there was a strange intensity in Mama’s tone. “I’ll finish and get dressed by five,” I relented. So much for bed.
“I’ll tell them six, just to be safe,” Mama said. “Enjoy your soak, sweetie. I love you.”
She sounded so normal, it scared me. “Mama, where are you?”
“In Phoenix with Claude,” she answered.
“Is everything okay?”
She sighed, then said, “It’s about to be, I hope. Just remember, your mama loves you.”
“I love you too.” I went back to my bath, soaked till all the hot water was gone, then put on a comfortable jogging suit and lay down on the bed to wait for the surprise to be delivered.
It was almost dark when the doorbell rang. I flipped on the porch light and looked out to see a tall, thin, white-haired man standing with his back to the door, his posture bent by the heavy weight of the large cardboard box in his hands.
I opened the door. “Yes?”
He turned, his face vaguely familiar as he studied me intently. “Elizabeth Callison?”
I nodded.
Where had I seen him before? Somewhere, but he’d looked different …
His eyes welled. “Betsy-girl, you sure did grow up, didn’t you?”
What? What did he say?
His mouth tried not to crumple, but a tear escaped his familiar blue eyes as he choked out, “It’s me, Daddy. Surprise.”
I stood there frozen, stunned.
This
was Mama’s surprise?
This
was Mama’s surprise?
Daddy got a grip on himself. “Do you mind if I come inside? This is pretty heavy.”
“Of course. Where are my manners? Come in.” I led him toward the kitchen. “Please let me fix you something to drink.”
“Nice place you got here,” he said, standing there with the heavy box.
Nothing like your mother’s
hung unspoken between us.
hung unspoken between us.
“Thanks.” What do you say to the prodigal father? “I’m afraid I took the opposite approach to Mama’s. I’m crazy clean.”
“Works for me,” he said with a shy grin.
I moved a chair away from the kitchen table to give him easy access to the table. “Here.”
He deposited the box, then sank into a chair. “Whew. Feels good to put that down.”
I wanted to hug him, but felt awkward about it, so instead, I stepped over to inspect the box. It wasn’t taped shut. “What’s in it?” I prodded.
Daddy smiled and opened it up for me to see. “Take a look.”
I stepped closer and saw that it was full of letters and snapshots, some of them brown with age. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of letters, neatly stacked. And they were all addressed to me in Daddy’s slanty penmanship, with the addresses scratched through and “Return to Sender” written in Mama’s handwriting.
All the air went out of me.
Return to sender?
Mama wouldn’t set foot out of the house for anything—but that. She’d gone to the mailbox to keep my father from me.
Return to sender
. And kept it from me all these years.
Mama wouldn’t set foot out of the house for anything—but that. She’d gone to the mailbox to keep my father from me.
Return to sender
. And kept it from me all these years.
I felt like I’d been blindsided by a commuter train.
Daddy looked down. “I wrote you every day for six years, till they started coming back stamped ‘No such person at this address. ’ So I wrote your mama, but I got the same thing.” He glanced at me and sighed. “I should have made sure, but I was working twelve-hour days to pay your child support to the courts and save up enough to try for custody again. So I put it off till I got back Stateside, which kept getting delayed by another contract, and another. Sorry. Guess I let you down.”
Overwhelming love and sympathy for my father battled a sucking vortex of hurt and betrayal aimed at my mother, and I baptized the evidence of Daddy’s love with big, slow-falling tears that smeared the ink on the envelopes.
“Oh, Daddy,” I whispered, “you have nothing to apologize for.” My mother did, but she could apologize till eternity, and it wouldn’t be enough.
“Betsy, look at me.” Daddy met my reluctant gaze with a steady one of his own. “Don’t go letting your mama spoil this.” He could still see right through me, just as he always could. “We should be celebrating. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.”
“If it wasn’t for her,” I said, the words shaking with bitterness, “I’d never have lost you.”
“Don’t think about that now,” Daddy said with a calm I envied. “Think about me.” He pulled an envelope from the box. “Here. Start with this.”
I opened it as if it was a sacred thing, which it was. The date inside was November 23, 1962.
Precious Betsy,We have two days off for Thanksgiving, but nobody around here has any turkeys, so I am eating fire-roasted mutton with mashed chickpeas and olive oil—with my fingers—in a Bedouin tent made from handwoven fabric. The Bedouins weave their tents supertight and thick to keep out the wind and sand for generations. Beautiful handmade rugs cover the ground in deep reds and blues and caramel, and these, too, were made to last. They are the only color in this brown, desert place.Though the Bedouins don’t put down roots in houses like Americans do, they bring their heritage and traditions with them, in their close-knit families. Just like I bring you with me, in my heart, wherever I go even here, half a world away.Though I haven’t been able to contact you, I am still thankful that you are my daughter, and I think about you every day, wondering what you’re doing and what you look like now. I pray that you won’t forget me, and that I’ll find you again someday, and you can read these letters.Love,Daddy
Poor Daddy.
And Mama. How could I ever face her again, now that I knew the full extent of the evil she’d done to both of us?
I boo-hooed.
“Aw, honey.” Daddy got up and put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me into the chair beside his. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
His peace spread into me through the comfort of his sheltering arm, and I laughed through my tears. “These are good tears,” I lied, “not bad ones.”
Daddy wasn’t fooled. He kissed the top of my head the way he used to when I was little. “Don’t worry about me, sweetie. I’ve forgiven your mama. It wasn’t easy, but she was sick, and terrified of being left alone. She did the best she could.”
I’d believed that, too, before I found out the truth of what she’d done.
Daddy went on. “Now, thanks to Claude, she’s back on track, taking her meds and doing the right thing.”
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