Accidentally Yours (12 page)

“
Is there anything else I need to be aware of? The Harris boys told me outside that they think he died of natural causes.”

“
Yeah. That kind of thing happens all the time. I meant to check on him. I realized after the fact that I hadn’t seen him probably since Wednesday or Thursday. I’ve been real busy lately, painting the basement. One more day and the mailman probably would have mentioned it. That’s what happens most of the time when I’m too busy to notice; the mailman tells me. You don’t gotta do nothin’. His son is supposed to be comin’ in on Tuesday. You just go on up and don’t worry about nothin’. In another month or two you’ll have a nice new neighbor.”

Chapter
7

A Real Mother For Ya

“H
i, Mom. Listen, you know I would never blow you off, but can I call you back? I was just on my way out the door.”

“
Where are you rushing off to on a Monday night?”

“
Well, I need to get to the hospital to visit a friend, and they only allow a few minutes in the ICU.”

“
Good heavens, who’s in the ICU?”

Vivian glanced at her watch. Her mother was incredible. How had she even known she was home? She had ducked out of work a half-hour early so she could get down to Washington Heights and back home again before it got too late, and it looked like all her efforts were going to be for naught
. Only her mother could proceed to carry on a conversation after being told the person she’d called didn’t have time to talk. Vivian loved her mother dearly, but she was already regretting having answered the phone.

“
His name is Bernard. You don’t know him,” she answered, hoping that would be it, but doubting it would be.

“
Is he the one you’ve been seeing the past few weeks?”

For a split second Vivian considered fibbing—no, make that telling an outright lie—and saying he wasn
’t. Surely her mother wouldn’t feel the matter worth pursuing if this was a one-time Joe. But then she realized that wouldn’t work. What if things became serious between her and Bernard? She would eventually have to bring him to Connecticut to meet her family, and her mother had a memory encased in cast iron.

“
Yes, we’ve been getting together on the weekends,” she replied as casually as she could.

“
Do you go to nice places?”

Vivian was well acquainted with the special meanings behind her mother
’s words. What Caroline St James was really asking was,
Does he spend money on you, or is he tight?

“
Yes, Mom.”

“
Where is he from?” Is his family well-off?

“
Pelham. That’s a town between Mount Vernon and New Rochelle.”

“
Where does he live?”
Is
he
well-off?

“
Riverdale.”

“
Oh, yes, that area where it’s supposed to be all leafy and green and can make you forget it’s part of the Bronx. What does he do?”
How much does he make?

“
He’s a stockbroker.” Vivian could feel the good vibes travel through the wires. Her ears actually tingled from her mother’s approval.

“
And what’s his full name?” Is he a Muslim named Muhammad Something or other, or a radical who’s adopted some crazy-sounding African name but was born Smith?

“
Bernard Williams. I don’t know his middle name.”

“
Very ordinary, isn’t it? There must be millions of people named Williams.”

“
Mom, you were a Johnson before you married Daddy, remember? Trust me, there are more Johnsons than Williamses.” Vivian blew out an annoyed breath. “Listen, I really have to go. I’ll call you the minute I get back.” Without waiting for a reply she hung up. She was gone before her mother could press the redial button.

*****

Zack saw a car pulling out of a space as he approached the building. He pulled up alongside the car in front of the space and backed into it with ease.

A look at the open blinds and neat, light colored curtains in the window on the front right reminded him he would have to stop in and say hello to Austin
’s parents before he left. He and Austin had been buddies since second grade. His own parents regarded Austin as a third son, after his younger brother; and the Hugheses treated him like one of their family. He knew they missed Austin terribly since his move to Colorado, even though they were thrilled about his engagement to Desireé Mack. He felt pretty good about their impending marriage himself. Desireé had made Ozzie happier than he’d ever seen him.

He let himself in the locked entry just beyond the foyer with his pass key. As he climbed the stairs he sniffed, almost expecting his nose to register something unpleasant, but it didn
’t happen. Maybe Santos had really gotten it aired out after all.

He had gotten a key to Mr. Ellis
’s apartment from the management office. Laurie, who handled matters pertaining to their property, informed him that Mr. Ellis’s son was driving in from Ohio and would be arriving sometime the following day, and he had promised to contact her with a date when he would have his father’s apartment emptied, adding that he didn’t expect it to take very long.

The apartment was sparsely furnished, with just two contemporary style—by
Fifties standards—chairs flanking an end table in the living room and an old table and chairs in the dining area. The floors were bare. All the apartments had attractive parquet floors, but some tenants opted to put area rugs in strategic locations, which served the dual purpose of preventing them from stepping on cold floors in the wintertime and reducing the amount of work required to maintain the parquet. Mr. Ellis’ floors were dull and had numerous long, black marks, the kind that come from dragging furniture from one spot to another. The only window coverings were shades that had once been white but were now yellowed. The webbing in the upper corners of the windows suggested they hadn’t been dusted in ages.

The bedroom was no better. The sheets had turned a dingy brown from lack of washing. At least there wasn
’t much furniture to dispose of, and most of it would have to be literally disposed of. The heavy old-fashioned bedroom suite could probably be salvaged, but no one would want the filthy upholstered chairs and cheap wood tables in the living room that bore multiple rings from drinking glasses. Maybe someone could use the kitchen table, but the two vinyl upholstered chairs, which Zack was sure were older than he was, had multiple rips in them. A thorough cleaning and a paint job and the apartment would be ready for a new tenant. It wasn’t too bad at all.

He went down to Santos
’s apartment and knocked on the door. It was answered by Santos’s wife, who had an obviously worried look on her face.

“
Teresita, what’s wrong?”

“
It’s Fernando. He’s not feeling good. I think he’s getting worse. I asked him all day if he wanted to see the doctor.”

“
Well, I’m a doctor. I’ll be happy to look at him, if you’d like.”

“
Yes, please. Come in.” Teresita stepped back, and he followed her inside.

Santos
, clad in a crew neck T-shirt and jeans, lay on the couch in the living room, the coffee table in front of him littered with comfort items: a carelessly folded newspaper, an empty plate and drinking glass, ashtray, cigarette pack and lighter. Teresita quickly removed the dirty dishes and disappeared into the kitchen.

“
I understand you’re feeling under the weather,” Zack said. “Where does it hurt?”

“
My belly. I ain’t never had pain like this before. It’s been bothering me all day, and now it’s getting worse.”

“
Point to exactly where it hurts, will you?”

Santos pointed to the right lower quadrant of his abdomen.

“I’ll bet it’s a sharp pain that never lets up.”

“
How did you know?”

Zack called for Teresita, who rushed in, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
“What is it?”

“
I want you to bring him to the emergency room right away.” He turned to Santos and asked, “Have you ever had your appendix removed?”

“
No.”

“
Well, I think you might have to have it taken out now.”

“
It’s just a bellyache. I don’t wanna go under no knife,” Santos protested.

“
It’s either that or let it burst, which will kill you.” Santos’s face lost color, and Zack almost regretted being so blunt, but he knew that sometimes it took shock value to get people to understand the seriousness of the situation, especially when the person didn’t like hospitals or doctors. “Of course, I can’t tell from simply asking you a few questions whether you actually have appendicitis, but I do believe it’s worth looking into.”

“
Thank you, Zack,” Teresita said. “We’ll leave right after I get Fernando a shirt.”

“
I’ll check with you tomorrow. I’ll let myself out”

Vivian felt like she
’d just been on a five-mile hike. Dealing with Bernard’s mother was exhausting. The Williamses were already at the hospital when she arrived. Mr. Williams was charming, but his wife seemed surprised to see her.

“
I didn’t expect to see you here, uh….”

“
Vivian.”

“
Yes, that’s right. I just can’t keep up with all Bernard’s girls.”

Vivian doubted Bernard
’s mother knew how much—or how little—her son dated, and she cheerfully let that remark pass. Mrs. Williams was like those annoying commercials featuring Cleo, the so-called psychic with the questionable Caribbean accent, that played every five minutes on local syndicates and cable networks. The woman simply was not going to miss an opportunity to make her feel ill at ease any more than Cleo would miss a chance to invite viewers to “Call me now for your free readin’.”

The doors to the intensive care unit were being
opened. “Why don’t you two go in first. I’m sure they only allow two visitors at a time.”

“
Actually, you’re supposed to be a family member in order to visit,” Mrs. Williams pointed out.

Vivian looked her in the eye unflinchingly.
“I lied.”

It was nearly seven twenty-five when the Williamses emerged, Mr. Williams holding his wife
’s upper arm like he was trying to get her to move a little faster. Vivian had a feeling he had wanted to leave a little sooner to allow her to spend a few minutes with Bernard, but that Mrs. Williams postponed departure until the last minute.

“
Your mother doesn’t like me,” she said to Bernard after ascertaining that he was feeling better and that hospital personnel anticipated transferring him to the medical floor.

“
I hope she’s not giving you too hard a time. I don’t understand her. One minute she’s saying how much she wants grandchildren and the next she says I’ve still got plenty of time to settle down.”

Plenty of time? You
’re almost forty, for crying out loud. Vivian kept her thoughts to herself, not wanting him to feel she was trying to rush him into a commitment she was far from sure she actually wanted.

“
I’m her only child, and I guess she’s torn between my getting married versus still being her baby.”

She stared at him, not liking the satisfied expression on his face.

“Attention, please. The time is now seven-thirty, and ICU visiting hours are officially over...”

“
I guess I’d better get out of here before I turn into a pumpkin,” she said.

“
I appreciate your coming, Vivian. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to spend together. But tomorrow I should be in a regular room...if you decide to come and see me.”

Vivian decided to take the out he offered.
“I’ve got a lot of things to catch up on, but I’ll probably see you on Wednesday, if you’re still here.”

It seemed like everybody on the block was at home; Vivian didn
’t find a space until she was nearly at the next corner. She was glad she went to visit Bernard, but she felt strangely hollow, and in her heart she knew that whatever good feelings she had about a future with him in it had dissolved like Jell-O mix in hot water. His mother had been difficult, but something in the way he smiled while acknowledging her behavior told Vivian he rather enjoyed it, and that meant there was trouble ahead if she pursued the relationship. Any woman he chose would find herself locked in a battle with his mother for his attentions.

Her body felt unwieldy and heavy as she slowly made her way down the street to her building. Lisa Mahoney had told her today that
she would be attending the big meeting in New Jersey the week after next, the one in which the future of many of the employees would be discussed, Vivian would have a chance to show she could run the department herself, just in time for her next performance review.

In the lobby she paused to get her mail. She
’d been in such a hurry to have a quick dinner and get changed that she hadn’t bothered to pick it up. The latest issue of Biography magazine awaited her, the perfect remedy after such a long day. She was going to pour herself a glass of wine, fix some baloney and cheese on Ritz crackers, stretch out on the couch with her feet up, and enjoy her magazine.

“
You come back and see us soon, now, Zack.”

“
You know I will. Good night, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes.”

Zack checked his watch. It had been a pretty good day. He had done a coworker a favor and covered part of his shift this afternoon, and although he
’d gotten out of there about an hour later than he planned, it still was only eight o’clock. If it were later in the week he would call a female friend—he knew a fair amount who lived in Southern Westchester—and issue an invitation for a drink at Smitty’s and go on from there, but since this was the beginning of the work week he doubted he would meet with much success. He’d just go home…and try not to think about Vivian St. James.