Read Breaking the Ties That Bind Online
Authors: Gwynne Forster
Breaking the Ties That Bind (29 page)
Two older American women stopped at her table. “Are you from the States?” one of them asked her. She told them she was. “We figured that, since you don’t look a bit African,” the other said. “If you’re by yourself, we know a great restaurant not far from here. Come on and join us.”
“I want to,” Kendra said, “but I’m on a student’s budget.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I’m Delia and she’s Shelia. We’re twins, and we’d love it if you’d join us.”
“I can’t let you pay for my lunch.”
“Sure you can. We’ve been together for fifty years and nine months,” Delia said with a twinkle in her eye, “and we don’t have anything new to say to each other.”
“Is this your first visit to Italy?” Kendra asked, rising to join them for lunch.
“We travel to Italy every year, and we always include Venice in our itinerary.”
They ordered the meal in Italian, and she learned that they also spoke French and Spanish and had traveled all over the world. Curious as to their source of income, she asked whether they were retired.
“We both taught for a few years,” Shelia said, “but it seemed a shame to take jobs from someone who needed the work, so we established a foundation for children with learning disabilities.”
“Are you from anywhere near Washington, D.C.? I host a local radio program, and I’d like to have you as a guest sometime.” When Delia’s eyebrows shot up in apparent disbelief, Kendra explained. “I’m finishing my degree in communications, and I work nights at WAMA in Washington.”
“We’d love to come on your program and talk about our foundation and the children we help.” They exchanged information about themselves. “We’ll be back in the states mid-March, so give us a call,” Delia, the most forward of the two, said. “We’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.”
That evening, as the train carrying Kendra rolled into Florence, she looked at the card the sisters had given her and gasped. Delia and Shelia belonged to one of the South’s wealthiest and better-known families. “I’m going to quit putting all southern white folks into the same barrel of pickles,” she promised herself.
With Italy behind her as the big Alitalia jet roared through the skies, Kendra wrote the first draft of her story. “What could you be writing at such a rapid pace?” the man sitting beside her asked.
“A report that’s due to my professor Monday morning, three days from now.”
“And you’ll be ready with it?”
“Absolutely,” she said, her voice reflecting both assurance and pride.
“I wish I could say the same. I’ve been doing research for my dissertation, but I spent too much time enjoying the local culture.”
“You can get a lot from the Internet. You’ve been there, so you can put everything into perspective. I wish you luck. I’d better get on with this.”
“Yeah,” he said, reflectively. “You’re the type who lets nothing get between you and your goals. Thanks for the lesson.” He put his drink aside, opened his laptop, and got busy.
At the baggage claim in Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Kendra reached for one of her bags, and a hand snatched it off the carousel. “Hey! That’s my bag.” She whirled around. “Give me my—Sam!”
He picked her up and swung her around. “Sweetheart. Lord. It’s so good to see you. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” She looked at him. Could this be the same man? He seemed taller and even better looking. She told him as much.
“You’re the one. You’re stunning,” he told her.
“All right, buddy, you can take care of that when you get her home,” an irate male voice said.
“Yeah,” Sam said, “and I intend to do just that. How many pieces of luggage do you have?”
“Two, and here comes the other one.”
He parked in front of the building in which she lived, put her luggage and several bags of groceries he’d purchased in the lobby. “I’ll bring these up, you go on inside,” he told her.
She walked into her apartment, dropped her pocketbook and a small bag on a chair, and opened some windows to banish the stale air. Sam soon followed with her bags and the groceries.
“I know you’re exhausted, so sit someplace while I put these things away. Then we’ll have a welcome home drink and I’ll cook us some supper.”
She sat on the sofa and fastened her gaze on him. “Can’t that wait? I’d rather you came over here and kissed me.”
He gazed down at her. “I’ve wanted this for so long, that I’m afraid if I get started, I might not be able to stop.” He leaned down, held her face in his hands, and fastened his lips on hers. But when she tried to deepen the kiss, he broke it off, went to the kitchen, and returned with two glasses of champagne.
“I know you don’t drink much, but a month in Italy should have improved your tolerance for alcohol.” He handed her a glass and raised his own. “I think this has been the longest month of my adult life. Did you come back because this is home or did you come back to me?”
“In my heart, I came back to you. Thank God you were where home is.”
He sipped his drink, placed their glasses on the coffee table, and parted his lips above hers. But he didn’t let her start the fire that she needed. He bent, removed her shoes, and turned her head to foot on the sofa. “Rest while I get things in order.”
She called her father. “I just got in, Papa. Sam met me at the airport. We’ve just walked into my apartment. Everything’s fine, thanks. I have a million things to tell you. The project? That’s right on target. I’ll drop by the shop tomorrow. Bye.” She knew he’d understand that she wouldn’t hold a long conversation while Sam was with her.
After their supper of filet mignon, baked potato, steamed asparagus, and a salad, Sam cleaned the dining room and kitchen.
That will take him about fifteen minutes, Kendra said to herself. Just time enough to get a fast shower. When he rejoined her, he might have commented on her change of clothing had she not presented him with a leather toiletries kit that bore his engraved initials.
“This is fantastic. And you even had it engraved with my initials. I was not expecting a gift, Kendra. This is what I would buy for myself. Thank you. I’ll have this for as long as I live.” He opened his arms and she dashed into them, eager to lose herself in him. And lose herself she did, as he took them on a hot, mind-bending adventure in the rewards of lovemaking. When he left her just before daybreak, she locked her arms around his pillow and slept at last.
The next morning, she sat up in bed and telephoned her uncle. “I just got back from Italy last night, Uncle Ed. How are you and Aunt Dot?”
“We’re fine, except she’s mad at me for getting Ginny out of jail.”
“She was in jail again?”
“Yeah. The police discovered that she lied. She was driving that car when it crashed. She stayed there about three weeks. I got her out a week ago.”
“Something’s got to give, Uncle Ed. I wish I knew what that something is.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kendra walked into Richards, Inc., Purveyor of Quality Meats, tossed her red woolen cap toward the ceiling, and hugged her father. “I did it, Papa. I’m back. I got what I went for, and I’m twenty years older.”
He wrapped her in a loving father’s arms. “I expected the first part. Tell me how you got to be twenty years older. Was that before or after Sam met you at the airport?”
“Hmm. I know you’re shrewd, Papa, and even wily when need be, but that wasn’t even subtle. I negotiated opportunities that I could never have afforded and got them just for showing up. I got in and out of several problem situations and never got a scratch.
I feel as if I can handle just about anything.
I crisscrossed Italy on the ticket the university gave me, and didn’t have to add a cent . . . I mean, a
lira.
I learned how to get around on my own.”
I feel as if I can handle just about anything.
I crisscrossed Italy on the ticket the university gave me, and didn’t have to add a cent . . . I mean, a
lira.
I learned how to get around on my own.”
“I’m proud of you, but I see you missed the one thing I figured you’d learn at the start.”
“What’s that?”
“A beautiful woman with poise and dignity only has to ask. Italian men must have changed a lot since I was in Italy.”
“You were in Italy?”
He nodded. “Uh huh. Don’t change the subject.”
She had to laugh. “Trust me, those men still like to make themselves useful, but I found it easier and safer to ignore their free-flowing charm and eager helpfulness.”
He produced a delectable lunch, and she told him about her adventures and the report she wrote for class. “I couldn’t be happier,” he said. “Now tell me how things are with you and Sam.”
“We love each other, Papa. I wouldn’t be away from him for one second if I could avoid it.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Remember that if you want to marry him, keep something for yourself.” During the next days, she digested those words over and over.
She returned to the university the following Monday morning, and handed her paper to Professor Hormel.
“Congratulations in getting back here on time. Most students find a reason to stay beyond the agreed time and offer a flimsy reason for having done so. Do you like what you’ve written?”
“I’m afraid to say yes, sir. If you find that I did a poor job, I’ll be terribly disappointed. I did my best, Professor Hormel.”
“I’m glad to hear it. That’s all I wanted from you.”
After worrying over the matter for more than half of the day, Sam slapped his right fist into the palm of his left hand. “That’s it,” he said, took his cell phone out of his breast pocket, and telephoned Bert Richards.
“Richards, Inc. Bert Richards speaking. How may I help you?”
“Bert, this is Sam. I know you meet Kendra when she gets off from work, but I’d like to meet her tonight.”
“Why, sure, provided it’s all right with her.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” He knew that Bert wouldn’t warn Kendra about the change, because he didn’t doubt that the man trusted him. “See you soon.”
Why was he so nervous?
It surprised Kendra that Clifton Howell would come to the studio to greet her on her first evening back at work.
“Thanks for keeping your word and coming back here. You’ve got a lot of mail. I printed it out and saved it, because your box became full. I hope it went well and that it was everything you hoped for.”
“It was wonderful, Mr. Howell. I know a lot more about a lot of things than I did when I left here.” It took her only a minute to reacquaint herself with the routine and, with Louis Armstrong’s “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” making her want to dance, she lifted the phone receiver after the first ring.
“KT speaking. How’s your world? Mine’s fabulous!”
“You sound happy.”
How she loved his voice! “That’s because I am. What do you want to hear?”
“Actually, I called because I’m picking you up tonight. I checked with Bert, and he said he didn’t mind if you’re all right with it.”
“Why would I mind? I love being with you. I’ll be out front between five and ten after midnight. See you then. Kisses.”
“Is this line open?”
“Heavens no. Didn’t I say, ‘kisses’?”
“Yeah. You did. But you didn’t say you love me. I need to hear it, Kendra, because I’m deeply in love with you.”
Hmm. Was he feeling down? “Oh, Sam. You’re so special to me. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. Bye.”
It seemed as if midnight would never come. Why did Sam want to meet her, and why had he needed reassurance? Surely, he must know that their relationship wouldn’t have advanced to such an extent if she didn’t love him. She told herself not to second-guess him, that he’d tell her what, if anything, was bothering him.
Kendra stepped out of the Howell Building and saw Sam move away from his car and head toward her. Her steps quickened, but she restrained the impulse to run to him. Before he reached her, a homeless woman intercepted her.
“Can you help me, please?”
Kendra gaped at the woman. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Well, maybe not. The woman wore an old coat inside out and had draped a ragged blanket over her head and shoulders. The blanket covered most of her face.
“Please. You have plenty, and I don’t have anything.”
Shocked, Kendra grabbed the blanket and pulled it off the woman’s head. “Mama! How could you pull a stunt like this?”
“Can you let me have a couple hundred for food?”
Horrified, Kendra asked her, “What do you expect to gain by pretending to be homeless?”
“I didn’t pretend anything. You assumed it. I need some money for food. Would you see your own mother starve?”
“You owe me so much money already. Oh, what the hell!” She opened her pocketbook and counted out one hundred and thirty-seven dollars. She kept the seven for herself and gave Ginny the rest.
“Is this all you’re giving me? I know you’ve got more, but you’re so damned stingy.” She put the money into her pocket, turned to leave, and bumped into Sam. By chance, Kendra looked at Ginny’s clothes and then lowered her gaze to the woman’s feet.
“You go out begging wearing a Burberry coat turned inside out and Jimmy Choo shoes? Well, I’m the fool.”
As if Kendra hadn’t said anything, Ginny turned to Sam. “Can you give me a little something, mister?”
“Not even if you crawled along this pavement begging. You disgust me.”
It was one thing to know that he felt it and quite another to hear him tell her mother to her face that she was disgusting. Kendra grasped his arm. “Can we leave now, please?”
Something was wrong. She could almost feel the chill coming from him. “Yes. Of course,” he said.
He opened the front passenger door for her, helped her in, and hooked her seat belt, but she felt that he was only going through the motions, that his heart wasn’t in it. When he headed up Connecticut Avenue and still hadn’t said one word, she knew that whatever he’d planned would not happen that night. And when he drove directly to the building in which she lived and stopped, she unhooked her seat belt.
“Thanks for bringing me home.” She didn’t wait for his response nor did she ask him if he wanted to come in. It gave her a small measure of pride to close the car door softly and strut off without looking back.
You’ve won again, Ginny, but it won’t kill me. Not now. Not ever. And as for you, Sam Hayes, I don’t need your brand of love.
Her home phone rang, but she didn’t answer it, and after ignoring it, she turned off her cell phone. She’d had enough pain for one night. Pain from her mother’s conscienceless, deceitful, and destructive behavior. Pain from Sam’s apparent inability to distinguish her from her mother.
“I won’t let it bring me down. I’ve worked too hard, climbed over too many hills, and bucked too many storms,” she said aloud. “She gave me life, but she has never been my mother, and I’ve got to start thinking of her as just a woman I know.”
Kendra went to bed, but sunrise found her wide awake. When her phone rang at eight o’clock, she checked the caller ID, saw that the call was from her uncle Ed, and answered the phone.
“I heard your show last night. When did you start back?”
“Friday. How’s everybody?”
“Dot’s birthday is Sunday. Bert’s coming, and I’m calling to invite you to join us. Don’t buy any presents. Just come.”
She wouldn’t be seeing Sam, so why not? “I’d love to come, Uncle Ed. What time?”
“Three o’clock. Bert will pick you up. Whoever had your show while you were gone didn’t know a thing about jazz. Yours is much more interesting.”
So Ginny heard that show and came out at the end of it for the kill. “Mama must have heard it, too, because she—”
“She what?”
“She was waiting for me when I came out of the building. Imagine, Uncle Ed, she was dressed to look like a beggar or a homeless person, and she was wearing shoes that cost anywhere from five hundred to a thousand dollars.”
“Never mind that. Did she say anything to you?”
“She asked me for money. I had a hundred and thirty-seven dollars, and I gave her all but seven. Do you think she thanked me? No. She said I was stingy.”
“You’re behaving like a masochist. See you Sunday.”
“That’s it,” Ed said aloud. “She’s incorrigible.” He wrote a letter to the judge on Ginny’s case, attached the bill stating the agreed conditions of Ginny’s release on bail, and requesting that her bail be revoked. He suggested that a year in a psychiatric treatment facility might help Ginny change her sociopathic behavior.
“But suppose he sends her to jail instead,” Dot said when she read his letter.
He stared at his wife. “Are you suggesting that she wouldn’t deserve it? The problem is that she’d be as bad as ever when she came out. She won’t seek help voluntarily, so this is the best I can do for her.” He sliced the air over his head. “I’ve had it up to here. One day she’ll kill somebody, and if I don’t get her some help, it will be my fault.”
Kendra knew that Sam had tried to get in touch with her on at least four occasions, but she hadn’t answered the phone when she saw his ID. At first it was the pain, but later it was more—she couldn’t bear to hear him end it. She promised herself that she wouldn’t mention Sam’s behavior to her father, because he had already told her that no man would want Ginny for a mother-in-law and certainly not for the grandmother of his children.
However, the first thing Bert said to her when she got into his car the following Sunday afternoon was, “How are things with you and Sam? He seemed awfully anxious to meet you Monday night.”
“We’re in limbo. I don’t know why he wanted to meet me.”
“That’s odd. Something must have happened.”
“Something did.” She told him about Ginny’s appearance that night and Sam’s reaction.
“I see. Either you or Ed is going to have to put her away. She’s not rowing with both oars, and she gets worse all the time.”
“I doubt Uncle Ed will do anything. When I told him about it Tuesday morning, he barely reacted.”
“Then, it may be up to you.”
Bert parked in front of Ed’s white brick, two-story house on Montague Avenue in Westmoreland Hills, Maryland, a few miles from the District line. Kendra jumped out and started for the front door, but her father stopped her.
“Didn’t I teach you not to go anyplace with a man who wouldn’t open the door for you? Didn’t I? You can accept a man’s assistance and still be a modern, independent woman, for Pete’s sake.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ed opened the door. “I thought you guys would never get here. We’re all out back. Come on in.”
Ed had set up the grill on the enclosed porch and, after the de rigueur greetings to Dot on the fiftieth anniversary of her birth, they devoured his grilled specialties—barbecued steaks, sausages, and pork chops, roast potatoes, onions, asparagus, and zucchini.
Dot rubbed her stomach. “I’m going to pop.”
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