Twice in a lifetime, p.11
Twice in a Lifetime, page 11
“On the button,” Ben replied before he began scooping up the silver coins and shoving them into the pockets of his overalls.
Clara was just about to start counting the remaining coins when the pig farmer slapped one onto the counter. It was a shiny penny; she often wondered how a man so filthy had coins so clean.
“Why don’t we just make it fifty-eight,” he said with a chuckle. “I expect that will be easier on the both of us.”
Ben was halfway to the door, the two of them having said their good-byes, when he stopped and turned back. “You want some advice?” he asked.
She nodded. “Sure.”
“A long time ago, back when I was a boy, I learned that when somethin’ was weighin’ on my mind, gnawin’ like a hungry dog with a soup bone, it didn’t do no good to ignore it. I needed to get the better of my problems ’fore they bested me.” He paused. “Whatever’s on your mind, makin’ your head all fuzzy, grab it by the back of the neck and wrestle it to the ground.”
“That sounds like good advice,” Clara answered.
“Well, it works pretty well with pigs too stupid and stubborn to get outta their pens,” the farmer said with a loud chuckle.
Clara knew that Ben meant well, but hers was a problem that she could no longer confront. It was too late for that.
Drake was already gone.
Last night, even as she’d hurried away from him, Clara could already feel his absence. But no sooner had the door shut behind her, leaving Drake out on the sidewalk, than her mother had begun to barrage her with questions, one coming after the other so fast that she had trouble keeping them straight.
“Who was that man?”
“Where did the two of you go at such a late hour?”
“It looked like he was going to kiss you. Was he going to?”
“So why didn’t you do it?”
That last question had thrown Clara for a loop, largely because she had no answer. Earlier that night, her mother had asked why she never went on any dates. Minutes later, a man had come calling, someone whose company she enjoyed, but also a man she’d ultimately rejected.
“His name is Drake,” she explained. “Drake McCoy. This afternoon the truck broke down on my way back to the bank and he helped me get it running. He came by tonight to see if I’d had any more trouble,” she added, using the first, not-quite-correct reason Drake had given.
“He’s handsome, don’t you think?” Before her daughter could answer, Christine went over to the window and peeled back the curtain.
“Don’t do that!” she hissed.
“Whyever not? I’ve been doing it since you left.”
“Please, Mom,” Clara nearly begged. On the one hand, she hoped that Drake might still be outside, watching, waiting in case she reappeared, but on the other, she hated the thought of leaving him in such a state.
“Oh, all right,” Christine answered, letting the curtain fall back into place. “Though you’re ruining all my fun.”
Clara sighed. She felt like a teenager again. When she and Joe started dating, her mother had done the same things, peppering them with questions before they left, pacing for hours, then pouncing on her daughter as soon as she got home, trying to wrangle every last detail of their night out.
“So what does Jake do for a living?” her mother asked.
“Drake,” Clara corrected. “He races cars.”
Christine’s eyebrows raised. “That sounds more exciting than selling encyclopedias door-to-door. More dangerous, too. Why is he in Sunset?”
“He’s just passing through. Another man was with him, an older fellow, the mechanic for his car. They’re leaving in the morning.”
“Was the older one as handsome?” her mother asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Clara laughed. “I’m afraid not.”
“That’s too bad, for me, at least. But you seem to have hit the jackpot. It’s not every day that a man knocks on your door.”
Her mother was right. Someone like Drake, charming, interesting, and handsome, didn’t come along often. Still, she’d turned him away. Clara thought about all the things that weighed her down, yet she wondered if she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. By rejecting his kiss, had she turned her back on happiness?
“I’m going to get some sleep,” Clara said, her thoughts churning. “Can you shut the house up?”
“Of course,” her mother answered.
Clara was on the second step of the staircase when her mother called to her. “He was going to kiss you, wasn’t he?”
She turned but didn’t speak, still thinking about that lost moment…
“Why didn’t you let him?”
Clara considered it. “I don’t know,” she answered softly.
Christine nodded. “Someday, I hope you find the answer.”
So do I…
Clara watched the clock’s hand slowly spin, second by agonizing second, crawling toward four o’clock. Most afternoons, the Sunset Bank and Trust saw a flurry of activity around closing time, people needing money or wanting to make one last transaction, but it had been almost an hour since the last customer walked through the door.
With so much idle time on her hands, Clara found it almost impossible not to think about Drake. She tried everything: she hummed a song, read the newspaper, and even counted the money in her drawer again and again, but nothing worked. She looked forward to going home, having a nice meal, hopefully with Tommy sitting at the table, all while trying to quiet her turbulent thoughts.
Three more minutes…
But then Eddie came out of his office and started walking straight for her teller window.
Clara’s stomach sank. Ever since he’d called her into his office and professed his feelings for her, she’d been afraid of what would happen next. Every time she saw Eddie, his words were there, echoing in the back of her mind. Someday soon, he was going to repeat them and she was going to be forced to make a decision: her happiness or the well-being of those she loved.
Is this when I have to choose?
“Jane Russell,” Eddie said once he’d reached her window.
“Excuse me?” Clara replied.
Pointing at her outfit, he answered, “Wasn’t that the same dress Jane Russell wore in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?”
“I…I haven’t seen it…”
“The spitting image,” Eddie declared. He leaned forward, giving Clara a whiff of his aftershave, a smell she found more repulsive than Ben Franklin’s manure-covered overalls. With a wink, he added, “I think you wear it better.”
Clara tried not to frown. After Eddie’s outburst in his office, it was hard to take his lame attempt at a compliment lightly.
To do so risked everything.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes.
More than ever, Clara was aware of how much Eddie repulsed her. The grating, whiny sound of his voice. The disgusting ring of sweat at the collar of his shirt. His smell. How he licked his dry lips.
But even with all that, he held her future in his hands.
“Do you have plans for tonight?” Eddie asked.
“I…I’m having dinner with my family.”
“So nothing you couldn’t miss.”
After a moment, Clara slowly nodded. She knew exactly what he was implying; he wanted her to be with him. She felt ill.
Smiling his goofy grin, Eddie turned and loudly clapped his hands. “All right, everyone!” he nearly shouted. “Time to close up shop for the day.”
Besides Clara and Eddie, there were two other people still in the bank. David Bookings had been half dozing at his desk, while Shirley Hoskins, whose teller window was next to Clara’s, was inside the vault, locking away drawers and counting rolls of coins. When they heard Eddie’s voice, they began to gather their things, just as they did every day at four o’clock.
Clara desperately wanted to go with them. The thought of staying behind with Eddie, of being alone with him, unnerved her. But there would be consequences if she rejected him so brazenly, so she didn’t move.
Eddie held the door open, sharing a few meaningless words with Shirley and David, smiling all the while. As she stepped outside, Shirley noticed Clara’s absence.
“Aren’t you coming?” she called out.
But before Clara could answer, Eddie spoke. “She’ll be staying awhile longer,” he explained, shutting the door in the other woman’s face.
When he turned his key in the lock, the loud click echoed through the bank; to Clara, it sounded like a prison cell’s door being shut.
Drake leaned against the Plymouth’s side panel, his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms folded across his chest, while the late afternoon sun warmed him. People occasionally walked past, some giving him a curious glance, but he paid them no mind. His eyes never left the Sunset Bank and Trust.
After he and Amos had returned to town, they’d checked back into the hotel, getting the same room as the night before. Amos had flopped onto his bed, still grumbling about losing the race and having to spend more time in Sunset. He went on and on, being a royal pain in the ass.
Drake did his best to ignore him.
All he wanted was to see Clara again.
Standing at the window, looking down at the street, he considered what he should do. His first thought was to wait until evening and then go back to Clara’s house, but with every passing minute, he grew more impatient. Without another word to Amos, he went down to the lobby and struck up a conversation with the woman working behind the front desk. Casually, he mentioned Clara’s name.
“Ain’t she just the best?” the woman exclaimed. “Every time I go to the bank, she’s as friendly as can be.”
And just like that, he knew where to find her.
But now, standing outside the bank, Drake wasn’t quite so sure of himself. After what had happened the night before, he wondered what he was going to say to her. While he hoped Clara would be surprised, even happy to see him, he didn’t know with any certainty. Absently, he chewed at a fingernail. He considered entering the bank, then thought better of it; he didn’t want to put her in an awkward spot. So instead, he waited outside, trying to remain patient, biding his time until the bank closed.
Finally, the clock above the movie theater chimed four times. Drake stood up, watching as the bank’s door opened. Two people left, a man struggling to stifle a yawn, and then a woman. But no Clara.
Drake frowned. He wondered if there had been a mistake. Was there a second bank in town? Had Clara taken the day off?
He decided to find out.
The man had walked in the opposite direction, but the woman was headed right toward him. He stepped in front of her.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Drake said with a pleasant smile. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Clara Sinclair.”
Immediately, the woman looked back over her shoulder. “She’s still at the bank,” she said, her expression showing a measure of concern.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“I…I think so,” she answered. “It’s just a little unusual, that’s all. Usually we leave together, but…”
“Thanks for the help,” Drake offered, then headed straight for the bank.
“I could hardly wait to lock that door.”
And I can hardly wait to be as far away from you as possible.
But Clara didn’t say that. She didn’t dare. She’d come out from behind her teller window, drawn to the open door, wanting nothing more than to go home like everyone else. So when Eddie locked it, despair grabbed hold of her, squeezing tighter by the second.
“It’s funny, don’t you think?”
“What is?” Clara asked, confused by his words, as usual.
“The two of us. Alone. Here of all places,” Eddie exclaimed, throwing his arms wide to indicate the otherwise empty bank, “right where my late father ordered me to stay away from you.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Like most everything Theodore believed, he was wrong about us, too.”
“Eddie, I think we should—”
But Clara’s words fell on deaf ears; the banker was lost in thought, rambling out loud. “Everyone in this town thought my father was a saint,” he grumbled. “But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was an overbearing tyrant who didn’t want his own son to share in his success!”
Listening to Eddie rant as he grew more and more agitated, Clara took a small, scarcely noticeable step toward the door. Outside, the sun was slowly descending, though darkness was still hours away. She silently prayed that someone might walk past, notice them, understand the situation, and offer her a chance at salvation. Because if he took her to his office, far from prying eyes…
Eddie had started to pace back and forth, still carrying on. “I’ve often imagined how different things would be with my own son, how I would respect and encourage him at every turn instead of tearing him down!”
Abruptly, Eddie stopped, turned, and rushed over to Clara, grabbing her by the arms. “You want to have more children, don’t you?” he blurted, squeezing her hard enough to make her wince in pain.
Clara was too shocked to answer.
“Don’t worry,” Eddie added. “I promise that I’ll treat Tommy as if he was my very own! With a bassinet full of babies, we’ll make one big, happy family!” With every word he squeezed tighter, until Clara cried out in agony, shrugging her shoulders to escape his grip. That seemed to break the spell Eddie was under; he blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. Sweat beaded his brow.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Clara,” he offered. Tentatively, he again reached out to touch her, his fingers brushing against her cheek; she trembled in response, realizing that there was no contact with Eddie that wouldn’t repulse her. “Thinking about our future excites me so.”
Clara fought back tears, fearful that Eddie would mistake them for romantic inclination; he did, smiling at the sight of them.
“Why don’t we go to my office?” he asked. “We can have a drink, relax. There’s plenty for us to talk about.”
Once again, he grabbed her, holding her wrist; his grip wasn’t as strong as before, but it was hard enough to make it clear she had little choice in the matter.
Clara didn’t know what to do.
Should she scream?
Should she fight, clawing and scratching to get away?
Or should she give in and stop risking what little her family had left?
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the bank’s door.
Startled, both Clara and Eddie jumped at the sound. Clara’s eyes grew wide in amazement and disbelief. There, peering through the glass, his fist poised to strike the door again, was Drake McCoy.
How…how could it be…?
“We’re closed,” Eddie said in a loud voice.
But Drake didn’t move. His eyes remained locked on Clara. Once again, he pounded the door, the sound sharp and loud.
“Come back tomorrow!” the banker shouted.
In answer, Drake hit the glass, harder than before. With his other hand, he pulled at the door, rattling it in its frame.
Realizing that the stranger wasn’t going to leave, Eddie let go of Clara’s wrist and went to the door. Fumbling with the key, he finally managed to yank it open. Clara assumed that the banker would act all important, but Drake never gave him the chance; he pushed his way inside, barging past Eddie and walking straight toward her.
“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?” Eddie demanded.
But Drake still wasn’t listening. When he reached Clara, he took her by the hands; this time, she welcomed being touched.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I am now.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Drake said.
Hand in hand, they headed for the door. For a moment, Eddie looked as if he intended to step in front of them, to keep Clara from leaving, but then he appeared to notice how much bigger Drake was and decided to back down. Unfortunately, his mouth kept protesting.
“Clara? Clara, where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“Away from here,” Drake snarled, making the banker take a quick step back.
Without another word, they were out the door.
Drake had saved her.
Chapter Twelve
WHAT WAS ALL that about?”
Clara walked beside Drake as they made their way from the bank. Her heart raced. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, that she was no longer with Eddie, trapped behind a locked door. For an instant, she wondered what the consequences might be, worrying that she could even be fired, but Clara quickly put that out of her mind. All that mattered was that she was safe.
“It was nothing,” she fibbed.
“That didn’t look like nothing to me.”
“What are you doing here?” Clara said, desperate to change the topic. “I thought you were leaving town.”
“I was supposed to,” Drake admitted. “But things changed a bit unexpectedly. I can’t say for certain how much longer I’ll be here, likely no more than another day or two, but as soon as I knew I was staying, I came looking for you. All day, you were all I could think about.” He looked at her intently, his eyes searching for her reaction.
“I know what you mean,” she said. “I feel the same way…”
Drake stopped walking; when Clara did the same, he stepped closer. Out on Sunset’s streets, she knew people would be watching, wondering who this stranger was and what she was doing with him, but she didn’t care. Right now, nothing else mattered but what he had to say.
“Ever since you ran away, all I’ve wanted to do was apologize,” Drake explained. “I was having such a good time with you that I let myself get carried away. By being so forward, I put you in a tough spot. It was all my fault.”
Clara shook her head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“I’m sorry all the same.”
They stood in silence for a while. Slowly, a smile spread across Drake’s face.
