Twice in a lifetime, p.18
Twice in a Lifetime, page 18
Clara wondered if her mother knew she was there, listening, but when Christine finished playing with a flourish, she looked up and right into her daughter’s eyes; a small, satisfied smiled lit up her face.
“That was incredible,” Clara said.
Her mother didn’t answer, but a bit of color rose in her cheeks. For a moment, neither of them spoke; after so much music, the silence felt heavy, ominous.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door,” Christine finally said. “I…I’m just so ashamed of what happened. I could have killed us all.”
“But you didn’t,” Clara insisted; it was the same conversation they’d had yesterday, which made her wonder if her mother had forgotten.
“What if you hadn’t come home when you did? What then?”
“I didn’t call the fire department, so that means one of our neighbors did. They would have put it out instead of Drake.”
Clara’s reassurance seemed to have no effect on her mother; Christine shook her head as her eyes grew wet. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” she explained. “Every time I try to recall what I was doing, so much of it stays hidden away, like it’s wrapped in fog. I remember wanting to start dinner. I got out the skillet, put in some lard, turned on the stove, but then a curtain comes down and the next thing I know, you’re shaking me awake and telling me that the house is on fire.”
“Everyone has moments like that,” Clara argued. “There are lots of times when I can’t remember doing something. Why, just last week, I—”
“Stop it,” her mother interrupted.
“But it’s not as bad as—”
“Clara Elizabeth, you just hush up right now!” Christine snapped, using her daughter’s middle name to silence her. “Don’t you lie to make me feel better. We both know I’m getting worse. There’s no use in acting any different.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Clara nodded.
“Can you imagine what this is like for me?” Christine asked, her lip trembling. “To know that the day might come when I don’t recognize you? That I might do something that gets Tommy hurt? It’s unbearable.”
Though she wanted to say something, anything that might alleviate her mother’s suffering and worries, Clara couldn’t. The truth was, she had the same concerns and had yet to come up with any answers.
“I know you won’t want to hear this,” her mother continued, tears flowing down her cheeks, “but some nights, just before I fall asleep, I think it would be better for you and Tommy if I didn’t wake up…”
Clara rushed to her mother’s side, sitting beside her on the piano bench. She pulled Christine close, wrapping her arms around the older woman’s shoulders as the two of them sobbed. It devastated Clara to hear her mother say such things, to admit that she would rather die than live with the fear of her deteriorating memory. She was angry, at both the unfairness of what was happening and her inability to do anything about it. Whenever Clara had needed her mother, especially in the years after Joe’s death, Christine had always been there, providing support, care for Tommy, anything that might be needed. But now that their situation was reversed, the mother needing her child, Clara was helpless.
Once their tears had subsided, Clara tried to come up with a solution. “Maybe we could hire a nurse, someone who can be with you all day.”
Christine shook her head. “You know we can’t afford that.”
“How about one of your friends? Ruth Mitchell is retired now. She might be willing to come over while I’m at work.”
Her mother didn’t respond; Clara suspected that the idea was too embarrassing to consider.
“Then I’ll stay home with you.”
“And what will we do for money? We can barely make ends meet now, especially since I’m not at the library anymore.”
“We’ll find a way,” Clara declared, though she had no idea how.
Her mother was right; they were scraping by as it was. The house was slowly falling apart, one broken thing after another, to say nothing of the problems with the pickup truck. On top of everything, there was Eddie’s threat to take away the house. If that happened, they would lose everything. But then, Clara thought about what Drake had said the night before.
“Do you remember Evelyn Price?” she asked.
Her mother smiled. “That’s a name I haven’t heard for a very long time. Her family moved away ten years ago or so, didn’t they?”
Clara nodded. “She used to bully me on the way home from school when we were little. I asked you to make her stop, but you wouldn’t do it.”
“I made you stick up for yourself,” Christine said. “It was one of the hardest lessons I ever had to learn as a mother, to let you fight your own battles. All I wanted was to march over to the Prices’ and give her parents a piece of my mind, but I couldn’t. You needed to learn how to stand up for yourself.”
“And I did. I fought back and she never bothered me again.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Clara took a deep breath. “Because you encouraged me. You gave me strength. Because of what you said, even if Evelyn had continued to bully me, I wouldn’t have quit. So that’s just what we’re going to do now. We’re going to fight this.” As she spoke, Clara’s voice, as well as her conviction, grew stronger. “You’re not going to lock yourself in your room anymore, too frightened to do something because of what might happen. Each one of us, together as a family, Tommy included, we’re going to get through this.”
Her mother nodded, but she didn’t seem very convinced, so Clara tried a different approach. “What made you decide to play the piano again?”
“I don’t know…not exactly…” Christine answered. “Whenever I used to be out of sorts, sad or angry, I would sit at the piano and play until those bad feelings went away. After what happened yesterday…after the fire…I was drawn to it.” Offering a weak smile, she added, “Maybe I forgot I couldn’t play.”
“But you still can.”
“Today, at least. But what about tomorrow or the day after that?”
“There are no guarantees,” Clara answered. “But you’re never going to know what you can or can’t do unless you try. It doesn’t matter if you forget what you wanted for breakfast or if you already went to get the mail or even how to play the piano. You just find something else to eat, check the mailbox again, or sit back down and start plunking the keys. Mistakes and failures are only temporary.” Nodding toward the piano, she added, “They clearly don’t mean forever.”
“I…I don’t want to be a burden to you…” Christine said.
“You couldn’t ever be,” Clara told her, smiling through tears. “But there is something you could do that would make me plenty angry.”
“What’s that?”
“You could give up,” Clara replied. “Now is the time to fight, not surrender. Isn’t that what you taught me?”
Christine smiled, more genuinely than before. “And you actually listened. If that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.”
This time, instead of music or sobs, laughter filled the room.
Clara put the last of the dishes from lunch into the sink. Her mother had gone upstairs to lie down, promising that she wouldn’t so much as shut her door, let alone lock it. After their conversation at the piano, things between them felt easier. Trying to keep things positive, Clara told Christine that this was a new beginning for all of them, a chance to start fresh. But then, just as she started to hum one of the melodies her mother had played, there was a knock at the front door. She slipped off her apron, dried her hands, and went to answer.
She opened the door to find Drake standing there, running a hand through his dark hair. But unlike the night after they first met, this time he seemed distracted, and the smile he gave her looked forced.
“What’s the matter?” Clara asked, frowning.
But instead of answering her question, Drake asked one of his own. “How are things with your mother?”
Clara told him what had happened, from trying in vain to get Christine to open her door to her shock at hearing the piano, and then about their conversation.
Drake occasionally nodded during her story, a bit absently, she thought. He wasn’t even looking at her when he said, “That’s great.”
“Why don’t you come in,” Clara told him, stepping aside. “I can fix you something to eat.”
Drake shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay out here. I’m so worked up right now that I can hardly stay still.”
Once again, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath. “You might want to sit down…”
Clara sat on the porch swing. Unlike the night before, Drake didn’t join her; instead he paced back and forth in front of the railing. She began to feel uneasy.
“Drake…” Clara said.
He stopped and looked at her. “When I came to get you at the bank, what was happening between you and your boss?”
“Eddie…had asked me to stay after work…” Clara answered, uncomfortable with the question but unwilling to lie. “He was upset about something I hadn’t done…”
“Something that had to wait until after the bank was closed?”
Clara froze. This question was more direct, one she couldn’t deflect so easily; in the end, she chose not to say anything.
Drake came over and leaned against the porch railing opposite her. “Clara,” he said softly, insistently. “Tell me.”
She looked up at him, the sun shining off the side of her face, uncertain about what she should do. Hesitantly, she said, “Eddie…is infatuated with me. He…wanted me to stay after work so that we could talk…He said that if I didn’t…I could lose…my job…”
“That’s all?” Drake pressed. “Your position at the bank?”
Clara knew that this was her moment of truth. All she had to do was tell Drake that Eddie threatened to take away her home in order to force her to marry him. But she couldn’t do it. It was too embarrassing, a blow to her pride not all that different from what her mother suffered because of her memory loss. Besides, what good would come of her telling Drake? How could he possibly help? Somehow, some way, she would find a solution on her own.
“That’s all,” she lied.
Drake was silent for a long while, watching her closely. Finally, he nodded his head, got up from the railing, and headed for the stairs. He was halfway down the walk before Clara, confused by what was happening, shouted to him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He stopped, his shoulders slumped, then turned back; his expression was one of disappointment. “You’re lying to me.”
Clara’s heart raced. Shame forced her to look away. Somehow, he knew.
“Drake, I…I…” she stammered.
“I already know everything,” Drake told her. “I know exactly what that bastard is holding over you.”
Chapter Nineteen
WALKING AWAY FROM Clara was one of the hardest things Drake had ever done. But she’d left him little choice. He knew everything about her and Eddie, that the banker was blackmailing her into becoming his wife. Drake had even been offered thousands of dollars to step aside and let it happen. But when he’d given the woman he was falling in love with a chance to be honest with him, Clara had lied to his face. This wasn’t a time for secrets. All of their cards needed to be laid on the table.
“How…how do you know?” Clara asked, astonished.
“Eddie came to see me at the hotel this morning. He was upset that I’d interrupted the two of you and wanted to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. He offered me money to leave town.”
“He tried to bribe you?”
Drake nodded. “He wasn’t playing around. It was an awful lot.”
“And…and you…?” She didn’t finish her question, but Drake could see the hope in her eyes as plainly as if she had, wishing for the right answer.
“I tore up the check,” he said. “But that didn’t bother Eddie for long. He pulled out his checkbook and offered to double it.” Drake paused, letting the words linger. “I told him there was no amount he could pay to make me leave you.”
Relief washed over Clara’s face, but Drake quickly wiped it away.
“But that’s not all,” he explained. “Eddie said that if I didn’t do as he asked, if I refused to take the money, he’d take your home.” He looked up at the porch. “He said that he’d doctor the books to make it look like you were behind on the payments. If you didn’t agree to marry him, he’d throw you out on the street.”
Drake watched Clara crumble. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She hugged herself tightly, as if she was trying to keep from shaking. But her gaze never wavered, holding his, though her lip trembled.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Drake demanded. “Why did you lie?”
His questions were enough to make her look away. “Because I was embarrassed,” she answered. “Because I’m ashamed to be in this position. Because I’ve spent the last nine years struggling, doing most everything on my own, and I’m sick of asking for help.” Her eyes once again found his; they were narrow, smoldering. “I still have some pride left. It might not be much, beaten down and tired as it is, but it’s enough so that I don’t want to bare every problem I have. Not to you. Not to anyone.”
Drake’s respect for Clara grew. Inside her, no matter how deep it was buried, remained a spark of strength that neither Eddie nor any of her other troubles could extinguish. He had noticed it the day they met; it was one of the many things that had attracted him to her.
“How much do you still owe on the house?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Drake insisted.
“Lots. More than I could ever hope to raise if Eddie actually went through with his threat. I’d lose everything, and he knows it.”
Drake had a thought. There was the money he’d been squirreling away, both the little amount in the bank in Illinois and what was buried in the bottom of his duffel bag back at the hotel. It likely wouldn’t be enough to pay off the loan, but it wasn’t chicken feed, either; it might buy them time, a chance to find another bank without such an unscrupulous owner or to expose Eddie’s lies. Slowly, a plan began to take form in his mind. The thought struck Drake that maybe all those years of diligently socking away cash had been so that right here, right now, he could save Clara. So that they could start a life together.
“Maybe there’s another way…”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Even if Eddie called in your loan,” he said, “nothing would happen right away. You’d have some time.”
“Enough to pack my things and get out,” Clara added.
He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. You might be able to get another bank to cover you.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Why not?”
“If Eddie has gone through with his threat, it’s because I turned down his proposal,” she explained. “If I don’t agree to marry him, he’ll fire me for sure. That means I won’t have any income. Without that, no one, certainly no other bank, would be willing to take a risk on me.”
“Unless you could give them some money up front. A down payment.”
“Which I don’t have,” Clara said, frustrated.
“You might not,” he answered. “But I do.”
“What are you talking about?”
Once again, Drake began to pace, growing more energized with every step. “Ever since I started racing, I’ve put away some of my winnings,” he began. “It was never a lot of money at once, a hundred dollars here, twenty there, whatever I could spare. But if you do that for a decade or more, it adds up. I’ve been hauling it around with me, waiting for the rainy day when I might need it. Looks to me like that day has finally arrived.”
“No,” Clara answered emphatically, shaking her head. “I can’t let you do that. I won’t take your money.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Your garage,” she said, coming down the stairs to stand before him. “You were planning to open it with your savings, weren’t you?”
“But that was before I knew—”
“If you give me that money,” Clara interrupted him, “will you have enough left over to get started?”
Drake took a deep breath. “I won’t,” he admitted.
“And that’s why I can’t let you do it.”
“It isn’t your choice to make. Besides, what if we said that I’m not giving it to you, but that it’s a loan?”
“We’d be old and wrinkled before I could pay you back.”
Drake smiled. “I wouldn’t mind, as long as we’re still together.”
His words stunned Clara. He’d said it lightly, yet when she searched his face, there was no humor in his eyes. It was no joke. What Drake was suggesting was life-changing for both of them. He was offering commitment, stability, and hope, things that she hadn’t had in so long they felt unfamiliar. He was proposing a plan to keep Eddie from taking her home, but also something grander, the idea that they could build a life together. And while she was surprised, Clara found herself wanting to take him up on his offer, to believe it was possible. In a way, Drake was asking her to take a leap of faith.
But Clara was having trouble taking that first step…
“Let me help you,” Drake said again.
“I…I…can’t…” she said. “You’re offering too much…”
“No, I’m not,” he insisted. “Ever since we met, you’ve talked about all the troubles weighing you down. But here I am, trying to make things better, and you won’t let me.”
