Finding laura, p.20
Finding Laura, page 20
“Sorry ’bout all that, Miss Miranda. The Lord, he never gives us more than we can handle.”
Miranda shook her head. “You believe that rubbish? Am I handling it? Just forget it. Forget about buying them. Catherine can buy her own damn mints.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sally slipped off her apron and hung it on the wall peg. She dialed for the taxi and spent the next twenty minutes waiting for its arrival by pacing up and down the driveway and worrying about Laura.
When the driver arrived, Sally was relieved to escape Miranda’s outburst. Her focus remained where it had always been—Laura’s well-being. Senator Knox had promised Sally that after Miranda was committed to Tucker, he would rent a place far away, maybe even out of state, and she could raise Laura. Just the two of them, just like it was meant to be. An entire year had passed, and Sally and Olivia still waited. Sally realized they had something in common—as much as a colored maid and a white mistress could share. They had both grown weary waiting for Senator Knox to fulfill his promises.
Sally directed the driver. “Right here, the stucco apartment house, sir.”
“A dollar ten, lady.”
Sally exited the taxi and leaned toward the driver. She handed him a one-dollar bill and a quarter. “Keep the change.”
“Yeah, I’ll buy a new car with all that. Jeez …”
Sally ignored his sarcasm and sprinted up the steps. She entered the apartment foyer, walked down the hallway, and knocked on the door with the numeral four displayed above the broken doorbell.
Olivia opened the door a few inches, revealing half her face. “Sally?”
“Came to see my girl, please ma’am.”
Olivia closed the door and unfastened the chain lock. She reopened the door. “Come in, come in.”
A grin crossed Sally face when Laura raced toward her and hugged her legs. Sally lifted Laura to her hip and kissed her before examining her.
“My little girl, you lookin’ pretty good.” Sally turned to Olivia. “I was scared to death, to tell you the truth, when you called.”
“Yeah, I know. Please, sit down.”
Sally sat but secured Laura in an embrace on her lap.
Timmy rose from the corner and handed Sally a toy truck. “It’s mine, not Lola’s. Lola has dolls.”
Sally directed her smile at Timmy. “Well, that’s a mighty fine firetruck. Makes you a fireman.”
“Timmy. Mommy and Sally have to talk about grownup stuff. Go play now.”
“Lola’s not playing!”
“Timmy!”
“Would you like some coffee, Sally? I have some already brewed.”
“A quick cup. Thank you, Miss Olivia. I can’t stay long. Tell me what happened with the girl.”
Olivia excused herself. She poured two cups and balanced them on saucers as she returned to the small living room.
“Lola, be careful now. It’s hot, honey. Don’t bump the table. Go play with Timmy,” Olivia said.
Laura slid off her nanny’s lap to join Timmy.
“Laura. She’s Miss Laura.”
“I call her Lola.” Olivia shrugged. “Anyway, it all started with a sneeze, if you can imagine that.”
Sally sipped her coffee before responding. “Girl’s got allergies and gets spells. You ’member the things I tell you ’bout?”
“Yeah, I think so. Anyway, she sneezed about five times in a row. At first, I laughed ’cause, you know, it was funny. Like, is this kid ever going to stop?”
Sally nodded and wondered why Olivia thought a child in distress was hilarious. Sally had always questioned the woman’s parenting skills. The woman’s lack of housekeeping and regimens was worrisome to Sally. If the senator thought this was a safe environment to conceal his granddaughter, he was mistaken. Sally regretted not being able to voice her concern.
“Well, after the last sneeze, she took a deep breath, but it was like she couldn’t breathe back out, you know? She started turning blue around the lips. I shook her—”
Sally’s eyes widened. “You shook her?”
Olivia wrung her hands and then reached for a cigarette. She nodded while she lit the cigarette. When the end glowed to an orange hue, she tossed the lighter on the coffee table. She expelled her sigh in a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I could snap her out of it or something, I don’t know.”
Sally arched an eyebrow. “Then what?”
“Lola started to shake all over. I mean, I’ve seen her do it before, and it’s never lasted more than a minute, but, last night, it went on for a long time.”
“You never called an ambulance?”
Olivia blew smoke from the corner of her mouth. “No. I got Jerry the second time I called the country club. He came with a doctor, but, by then she was okay anyway.”
“She could have died.”
Olivia waved her cigarette. “It wasn’t that bad, really. I was just scared when I called you. Don’t tell Jerry I called. He’d kill me, kill me if he knew.”
“Miss Olivia, please promise me … promise if Miss Laura suffers from a bad fit, you be callin’ for help. Please! I was up all night cryin’ and prayin’. You don’t know… don’t know how much I love that child.”
“Okay. But she won’t ever get that bad again. Promise. But can I ask you something while you’re here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Jerry’s daughter. She was supposed to be locked away months ago. Remember what Jerry promised? I would watch Lola just until then, and after that, you would raise her. Well, I’ve got my hands full with Timmy. When? When’ll she going to be locked away?”
Sally shrugged. “Don’t know, I’m prayin’ soon. I say goodbye to Miss Laura now. Gotta be on my way.”
“Lola! Timmy!”
Both children charged at Sally. Sally tipped each child’s chin upward with her fingers. “Now Miss Sally’s goin’ now, but I be back soon. Both you be good, hear me? Mind your manners.”
Laura hopped onto Sally’s lap and hugged her.
Sally whispered into her ear. “Love you, Miss Laura. Always have, always will.”
Laura smiled when Sally tapped the child’s nose.
“Thank you, Miss Olivia, for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sally heard Olivia secure the chain lock as she stepped into the hallway. She placed her hand over her heart and gazed upward. “Thank you, Lord, for keepin’ my baby safe.”
“You know what this place needs, John?” Robert asked.
“Besides a grand in the till, air conditioning that works, and a roof that don’t leak?”
“Signage. Plain and simple. You’re located on a busy corner lot with traffic lights forcing vehicles to stop. What do the drivers see while they wait? Nothing. But what if you had a sign that said, ‘Free oil change with purchase’ or something like that?”
John leaned back in his tattered chair and rested his boots on the desk. “What a great idea!”
Robert glowed. “It is, isn’t it?”
John slid a toothpick between his lips. “It’s such a good idea, my friend, that I’ll let you in on a little secret. That shed out back is just packed with them signs.”
“Well, why aren’t you using them then? It’s a wasted opportunity. You need to attract people to your business. That’s what marketing’s all about.”
“Says the guy selling used cars. Tell you what. Go out to the shed and put any sign you want on that damn corner. I’ll already tell you what’ll happen.”
Robert crossed his arms. “Well, I’m interested in hearing that.”
John rotated the toothpick between his fingers. “Won’t make one iota of difference.”
“You don’t understand the marketing model, what motivates people to buy things.”
“Don’t need no big college degree to know this much—people buy cars because they have to, because they don’t want to rely on a late bus, and a taxi is too expensive for daily commutes. They ain’t buying transportation. They’re buying freedom. Freedom to come and go wherever and whenever they decide. Don’t have to advertise nothing to get folks to buy a car.”
Robert considered his boss’s words. “So, why buy at McKinney’s when there are five or six other dealerships?”
“Because I’m honest and I don’t screw people. They tell the next person, and then they buy a car. It just keeps on going that way. But, tell you what. Go out to the back shed, and, like I said, pick any sign you want, and, if you’re a betting man, let’s wager five bucks it ain’t going to make any difference.”
Robert offered his hand. “Shake on it?”
John chuckled. “Shake. At least I’ve got to admire your spunk.”
Robert walked to the back of the lot and rummaged through the shed until he located the sign he wanted to display. He grabbed a rag, wiped off the dust and then found the base to stabilize the metal board. He carried both to the corner and watched the traffic pause for the light while he decided what angle offered the best visibility.
A taxi stopped as it approached the red light. Robert thought about what John had said about the expense of taxis and supposed he was correct in his statement. Taxis were a luxury most people in Richmond could not afford, certainly not for daily commutes. Curiosity got the best of him, and he glanced into its back seat as it sped through the intersection the instant the light had turned green.
No, it couldn’t be! Sally?
Sally had asked for cash and permission to go to the market, but the grocery store she frequented was located on the north side of town. What possible reason did she have to take a taxi to this southern neighborhood? Robert knew Sally would relinquish his change with the store receipt, and her taxi fare was usually the same amount. He wondered what explanation she would offer when he asked about her shopping detour.
Robert assembled the sign, angled it for the maximum view and returned to the office.
“Happy now?” John asked.
At the dinner table, Miranda’s presence surprised Robert. Although she remained sullen, not bothering to return his smile, he accepted her company as a good sign. The clacking of silverware upon china plates was the only sound in the room, but Robert figured the lack of conversation was still a better alternative than dining alone.
When Sally returned to clear the plates in preparation to serve dessert, Robert commented on the previous course. “The vegetables were delicious, Sally. Did you shop at a different market today?
“No, sir. Took extra care choosin’ the best.”
“So, you shopped at Schultz Market?”
“Yes, sir. That’s right. Always fresh meat and good pricin’.”
“You know, I saw you in a taxi today. Opposite side of town from Schultz Market.”
Miranda glanced from Robert to Sally.
Sally stacked the plates before she answered. “Ventured down to the neighborhood … to my friend, ah … Alice’s house. She down with that stomach flu that landed you in bed. Stopped to pray and see if she needin’ anythin’.”
“Your friend has a last name, I assume?” Miranda asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Miss Robinson.”
Miranda tilted her head. “Never heard you speak of her before. How do you know her?”
“My church friend. Prayer circle, Miss Miranda.”
Sally redirected her attention to Robert. “Sorry for not axin’ permission, Mr. Robert.”
“Perfectly fine, Sally. I was just wondering, is all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sally gathered the plates and excused herself to the kitchen.
“It’s not perfectly fine with me, Robert. We’re paying her to conduct our business in town, not to visit her friends.”
“Let it go, Miranda.”
“No, I won’t let it go. She’s obviously lying, but I’m the only one who gets called a liar in this house.”
Robert adjusted the napkin on his lap. “Miranda, you don’t speak to me at all during our meal, but you jump at the chance to quiz our hired help? Really, your behavior is so …”
Sally returned to the dining room with two dessert plates.
“Apple pie. Miranda’s favorite,” Robert said. “Isn’t that thoughtful?”
“You needin’ anything else, sir?” Sally asked. “Or you, Miss Miranda?”
“No, Sally,” Robert answered. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”
Miranda curled her lip. “He’s fine, Sally.”
Sally nodded and exited the room.
Miranda pushed aside her plate. “Someday, Robert, I really hope you can believe your wife with as much faith as you put into a colored maid. But I doubt I’ll see that day. Doubt it very much indeed.”
Chapter 30
Wednesday had arrived, and Miranda loathed attending her therapy session. She had spoken few words to Robert during the week but had plenty to say when she begged him to cancel the appointment. Since she could not disclose the reason behind her uneasiness, she surrendered and hopped into the car for the dreaded drive.
The red satin belt. The cabin. Him. The accident. Him. Laura.
“You haven’t answered me, Miranda,” Robert said.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Your pallor. I asked if you’re feeling sick. I hope you’re not coming down with that awful virus.”
Miranda cranked open the car window. “I just … I just need fresh air.”
Music. Laughter. Pawing. Resisting. Him.
“You’re not afraid that breeze will mess up your hairdo?” Robert chuckled. “Boy, you must need fresh air.”
“I have an idea, Robert. Let’s skip the appointment today. Let’s just take a drive, have a picnic, do something fun and spontaneous, like we used to.”
“I do have the afternoon off. First, your appointment. Then, we can do whatever you want.”
Miranda sighed. “I hate that toad, Robert. I really, really do.”
“Miranda, we’ve been over this enough times. It’s only one half hour.”
Robert parked, and they entered the building. The cardboard sign hanging on Dr. Ames’s door announced his office was closed.
“Good. He’s closed. Let’s go!” Miranda said.
“Not so fast,” Robert said. He approached the nearest dental suite and entered “Do you know where Dr. Ames is? We had an appointment, but his office is closed.”
The receptionist shrugged. “Don’t know. Never talk to him. Wait a sec. I’ll ask Dr. Bennett. They talk sometimes.”
She disappeared down the hallway.
When she returned, a slender man wearing glasses and a white frock accompanied her.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Bennett. Justin—Dr. Ames—mentioned going on a vacation. To where and for how long, he didn’t say.”
Robert ignored Miranda’s grin. “Odd that he wouldn’t tell us, but thanks for your help.”
“Any time.”
“I knew it!” Miranda said as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “I knew he was no good! Closed his office and didn’t even have the decency to tell us.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, dear. He may have had a family emergency to tend to or something like that.”
“He’s no good, Robert.”
“What do you base that opinion on, Miranda? I know you’ve despised the man since you first met him, but you’ve never based your distrust on fact.”
The red satin belt. The cabin. Him. The accident. Him. Laura.
Miranda stopped walking. Despite the heat of the summer day, she rubbed her arms to ward off a chill.
Robert shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and removed his suit. As he swung it over his shoulder, the couple slowed their pace to the car.
“Robert, let’s buy a bottle of wine. No. Make that two. Remember that knoll in the park where we used to have picnics?”
“I remember.”
Miranda fished a Commander from her purse. Her fingers trembled as she lit it.
“Will you trust me? Will you buy the wine and take me there?”
“I’m not sure where this is headed.”
Miranda stood in the center of the sidewalk, oblivious of casual passersby quickening their steps and bisecting to walk around the couple. She reached for Robert’s hand. Her crystal blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Will you trust me?”
Robert embraced her and whispered, “Yes.”
Miranda patted Robert’s back before he released his hold.
“Let’s get the wine, and then we’ll talk at the park. Okay?”
Robert joined Miranda on the park bench. After apologizing for serving wine in plastic cups, he sat quietly, waiting for his wife to speak. After Miranda had drunk most of the first bottle, Robert tried unsuccessfully to pry the words she was hesitant to say.
After she had finished her third glass from the second bottle, Miranda tossed the empty cup. The wine had energized her with courage. “I brought you here to tell you …” She swallowed and licked her lips.
“Miranda, we’ve known each other for years. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
Miranda looked straight ahead. “When I was sixteen, I crashed Father’s car.”
“Lots of kids have done that. Why, I—”
“Shh! I crashed it, and Father took me to a doctor. Somehow, I didn’t realize then, but Robert, I was pregnant. You got me pregnant and I never told you.”
“Miranda, I couldn’t have. We never had sex.”
Miranda turned to face her husband. In a solemn tone, she continued. “Robert, I was pregnant. Father took me to this dreadful doctor and he … he got rid of the baby. Father said not to tell anyone. Not even my mother.” She looked at her hands. “I never did.”
Tears flooded her eyes. She opened her purse for a Commander and ignored her handkerchief. It felt good to cry, to purge the secret she had carried for all those years. Even exhaling the cigarette smoke felt like a release.
“Miranda, think about it. We never had intercourse in high school. Did you ever go all the way with another boy? I mean, if you did, you can tell me.”
“No. Never.”
“Well, then how could you’ve been pregnant? You couldn’t have been.”
