Into the Woods (22 page)

He nodded and shifted his eves niftily toward the floor. "How's Roger?"
"He'll be back in school tomorrow. He's just shaken up badly. I spoke to him at lunchtime. He asked about you."
"He just thought... with what happened to Randy..."
"Why did he go with them, Wally? I thought Phoebe was mad at him!"
"I
don't know," he said quickly, keeping his eyes down.
"I don't believe you. I had just spoken with him, and he had told me she was upset at the way he was defending me.
^-
"I don't know," he said, waving his head. Then he looked at me. "I think she told him they were trying to find a way to make friends, that it had all gone wrong and she wanted it to be right. Maybe she was teasing him. I don't know. You know how she can be."
"Right. I know, and it didn't take me long. Look how long it's taking you."
"No one wanted him to die. Grace. Man oh man, everyone's sick about it. especially Roger. He often tried to protect him. You saw that. He hated when
I
teased him."
I softened a bit. That was tile. I thought. "How did this accident really happen, Wally?"
"Hey," he said, holding up his hands, "I don't know.
I
wasn't there."
"Right."
I
said. "hear no evil, see no evil." I turned to continue out of the building.
"I don't know." he insisted, coming up beside me. "Roger said that she was just driving way too fast."
"And that was all that was wrong with her?" I cross-examined, my eyes like steel,
"He said she had some pot before they started out. but he thought it had worn off."
I stopped walking. "You know what people do with situations like this. Wally?"
He shook his head.
"They go into self-denial. They actually lie to themselves so they won't feel bad. Or they look far someone else to blame. Randy's death is too heavy, even for someone as self-centered as Phoebe. If Roger asks about me again, you can tell him I'm fine. I didn't give Phoebe her way, and I'm not just as much at fault. Think you could remember all that?"
He looked as if he was going to cry. He nodded.
"Months from now when she's back behind the wheel of the new car she talked her father into buying for her and you're in the backseat, remember that," I said, and pivoted quickly to leave him behind. Fury gave wings to my feet. I walked and walked until I decided to catch a bus and go home.
Mommy was there. She had just returned from the hospital where she had been keeping Dallas and Warren company. "Phoebe's going to be all right," she told me. It will be a long recuperation after which they will have to consider some cosmetic surgery. Warren's going to open the restaurant tomorrow. It's best that everyone get back to being normal and occupied. How were things at school?"
"Dreary," I said.
"Here I was hoping I had taken us from all the sadness and depression into a bright new world..." She shook her head.
"Maybe we can't get away from it." I said bitterly, "Maybe it will be with us for the rest of our lives, or at least with me."
"What kind of talk is that. Grace?"
"Realistic." I said, and went to my bedroom. I threw myself on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. Was it my imagination, or was it true that everyone with whom I had come into some close contact suffered soon afterward, from Autumn to Augustus to Randy? Somewhere deep in the back of my mind I could see that sea gull twisting in the air, turning as if in distress and pain, flying off just before Daddy left on his training mission, the mission that would end with his death. Could someone have a curse on him or her? Was I a Jonah, always bringing bad vibes to people I cared for or became close friends with?
Maybe I should become friends only with the people I don't like,
I thought.
Mommy knocked on my door. "Grace?" I turned and looked at her.
"I
don't like you talking like that. honey. I know you're hurting for your friend, but you can't beat up on yourself. That won't help. It just makes it all harder for everyone."
"I
can't help how I feel. Mommy."
"I know. I just spoke with Winston. He feels terrible for us, and he's coming over in an hour to take us both out to dinner."
"I
don't want to go," I said sullenly.
"Please. Grace.
I
won't have a good time knowing you're home pouting and sulking. We have to go on and try to find some enjoyment in life, too. I'm not going to let this continue," she said firmly.
I looked up at her. "What continue?"
"This downward spiral, this streak of bad luck and gloom. We don't deserve it."
"Randy didn't deserve to die."
"Of course not, but we can't change what happened, and it does him no good for us, for you, to let it bring you farther and further down. Fate will not have its way with us." she vowed. "Now put on something bright and joyful, and let's bring some sunshine back into our lives."
"I can't," I wailed.
"Grace." She stood there, her arms at her sides, her hands clenched in fists. "How do you think
I
do it? How do you think I woke up the morning after your father was killed and continued? I felt as if my insides had been kicked out. I wanted to jump into that grave with him. It would have been so much easier to pull the blanket over my head and deny, deny. deny. But life won't let you do that. Grace. And we're not going to be losers and sufferers forever." she declared.
"Now you get up and join me and Winston, and you look at the world again, and you learn to take advantage of every opportunity, every blessing, every little stroke of luck that comes your way. Our days of sacrifice and pain are coming to
an
end." she predicted.
I stared at her. I had been holding my breath the whole time she spoke. She looked so different
I
was sure if my father came back he would think he had entered the wrong house.
"Something bright and joyful." she reminded me. She turned and left my room with such power in her footsteps I thought she had sucked out the air behind her.
I went into the bathroom and looked at my glum face in the mirror. Of course
I
didn't want to wallow in sadness and defeat. I didn't want to wear the cloak of dark depression. I just didn't think
I
had Mommy's strength and ability to cast it off.
I began with a hot shower. I fixed my hair. I chose
a
bright blue blouse and matching skirt and put on some lipstick. When I gazed at myself in the mirror. I still saw the shadows in my eyes.
I
tried to smile, but my face felt so brittle I thought it might shatter if I tried too hard.
Mommy knocked on my door. "Winston is here. honey."
"Coming." I called back. I glanced at myself once more and then joined her. She looked as beautiful as ever, and she was wearing something else new, an off-the-shoulder red silk dress with a high slit. She had a new pair of gold earrings and
a
pearl necklace I couldn't recall.
"Where did you get that?"
I
asked.
"Our Palm Beach boutique," she replied. Our Palm Beach boutique?
Winston was at the door. "Ladies," he said, holding out his arms. Mommy moved quickly to his right, and they both looked to me. After a slight hesitation I took his left, and he escorted us to the limousine. I really felt silly.
"Where are we going tonight?"
I
asked. "Not Bermuda or something, are we?"
Winston laughed. "No. Just a place on the water. Twenty or so minutes' driving. No big surprises." Then he turned serious, "I know what it's like for you. Grace. To lose a young friend like this." he said, shaking his head.
"I was hoping we wouldn't talk about it." Mommy interjected.
"No, no," Winston said. "We can't run from our disappointments and hide. We must find ways to grow stronger because of them instead."
I liked that.
I
liked that he was confident enough in himself to do what he wanted, what he thought he should, even if it displeased someone he wanted to please very much.
"When I was in college I lost my best friend in a similar way, automobile accident. He and I were runners."
"Runners?" Mommy asked.
"Yes, you know, track and field. I happen to have been a four-letter man. too. I was on the school's championship relay team. and
I
came in second at the all-state conference in the three-thousand-meter steeple-chase.
I
looked like
a
gazelle in those days, all legs. lanky. My mother used to say
I
was so thin she could see my breakfast."
I laughed.
"Anyway, my roommate. Paul Thoreau, was a runner. too. He was actually the fastest in the twohundred-meter and might have gone on to be in the Olympics. You couldn't meet a nicer guy, sensitive, considerate, very family oriented, and religious. In all the time
I
knew him I never heard him say a bad thing about anyone else. He would say nothing rather than do that, and he rarely cursed. We used to make fun of him for that." he said, remembering with a smile. ''He would say things like 'Holy cow!' or 'Jeepers!' He was killed on his way back to college. A drunken truck driver hit him head-on. He never had a chance. The truck just veered into his lane.
"I
like to think he's running in heaven, winning trophies. Anyway. I wanted to quit the team, give up running myself afterward, and my coach... I'll never forget him. Rolly Allen, pulled me aside and said. 'Don't you know. Paul will be running alongside you for the rest of your life, Winston. You can't outrun him.'
"I
smiled at that, and you won't believe this. but I ran my best race soon afterward, and when I stepped off the track Mr. Allen was there. and I said. 'You were right. He was with me step for step.'
"If you're close with someone. Grace, you take them with you forever. Just think of that. It won't stop the pain and the sadness completely, but you can go on and run your races and do your work, and after all that's what is most important."
I didn't realize I was crying until he leaned forward with his handkerchief and wiped the tears from my cheeks. Then he touched my hand. and I seized his. We held on to each other for
a
long moment. I saw Mommy watching, a smile on her face, and then
I
sat back and listened to them talk about an upcoming charity event Winston insisted we attend with him.
.
Life was meant to ad on, and go on it would at an even faster pace than before. Mommy returned to work at the restaurant, but as the weeks and months went by it soon became more and more of a part-time job. Every time Winston had a place to take her or take us both, she would call Dallas and get off that evening. Of course, I wondered how she could be buying all the new clothes, the new shoes, and the jewelry for herself and me as well, and then one morning she revealed that Winston paid our bill at the boutique.
"How could you let him do that?"
I
asked. astounded.
"It was his idea from the start. Grace. I didn't know anyone in Palm Beach and certainly didn't know my way around boutiques and beauty salons."
"You mean he even arranged for that, your hairdo?"
"It's something he enjoys doing.
It
means nothing to him financially. and..."
"But that's like.., like taking advantage of someone," I blurted.
"Hardly," she said. "I can't imagine anyone taking advantage of Winston Montgomery. It's probably the other way around." She sounded almost critical. By now I had come to like Winston very much. I didn't see how he could be nasty to anyone. "I didn't ask him to buy these things for us. Grace. He offered."
"But..."
No buts about it He's on top of the world, and if he wants to rain down some of that gold upon us. I'm not going to throw up any umbrellas. I told you.
I'm
tired of being the victim, the suffering casualty of an unforgiving, relentless, and cruel fate. We'll beat it back until it leaves us alone and goes looking for weaker prey.
"Besides," she continued. "Winston wants me to go with him to the finest places, fly us places, take us to extravagant charity events.
I
told him we couldn't go because we didn't have the wardrobe for all that, and he said he wouldn't permit us to miss anything because of something so trivial as clothing and shoes. Those were his words. I told him we couldn't accept any charity, especially for expensive things we wouldn't use much, and he said we would be doing him a favor. He likes us. Grace!" she cried. throwing up her hands. "How can we be blamed for that?"
She waited for my response.
I
didn't know what to say. Winston never made me feel like a charity case or as if he was doing us any favors. Mommy was right. He was the one who always acted grateful and looked sad if we were even a bit unhappy or if there was any possibility we wouldn't accompany him to something. His favorite expression was "You two make me look good."
"I just... feel funny about it." I said.
"Well don't," she insisted. "If he doesn't want to do it. Winston Montgomery will tell us. He is not a man who does anything he doesn't want to do."
Was Mommy falling in love with him or just admiring him and enjoying his company?
I
wondered, Sometimes she sounded as if she thought he was so wonderful, and sometimes she sounded as if he was just someone she was occupying herself with until something better or more important came along. I guessed the biggest danger to being rich was being used, taken advantage of, but if you didn't mind, if what you received in return was satisfying, what difference did it make? Especially for someone as wealthy as Winston Montgomery.
"Okay," I said.
I
wasn't going to argue or make Mommy feel bad about anything.
The list of events Winston wanted us to attend seemed to grow longer with every passing week. Most of the time
I
was unable to attend. I had to study for an exam or complete a major homework assignment. I became accustomed to preparing dinner for myself. Mommy was always suggesting I invite a friend over to eat with me, but after the tragic accident and Randy's death
I
retreated to my own corner of the world. Time seemed to have little meaning. One week was like the next.
I was friendly with other students, talked about school and homework. but I resisted every invitation to every party. Two boys asked me out. but I made up so many excuses they soon gave up. Despite the lectures Mommy gave me I couldn't get over the dreaded feeling that somehow, some way, I brought others bad luck.