Look Both Ways (6 page)

“I’m not offended by your question. I married when I was still in college. My career took off, his didn’t. The ensuing friction drove us apart over a year ago. Since then, I haven’t met anyone to occupy that special place in my life, and I’m not really looking. If it happens, it happens. If not, I’ll still make the best of my life. What about you?” she asked, brushing Stan’s image from her mind. “Divorced? Never married?”

“I was married. We became engaged in high school. I joined the military, and she decided to find someone else. She was divorced with a child when I returned, but she and one of my sisters were friends and my mother adored her, so we saw each other often. We got back together and married. I adopted her son, Michael, and we had a daughter, Kayla.”

She saw the light in his eyes when he mentioned the children. “If you’d rather not talk about it, I understand.”

“Oh, no. I’m long over her. I just miss the kids. Mike was only two when we married, so he’s as much mine as if I had fathered him. Her first husband was an irresponsible jerk, and the one she’s married to now isn’t much better,” he said, ruefully. “I’ll never understand how any man could ignore his child, especially one as lovable as Mike. My little girl is adorable. A real know-it-all. I miss them both.”

She listened sympathetically, while choking her way through a jalapeno-laced dish.

“Alfreda wanted it all, and she wanted it immediately. I wanted security. I said the word portfolio and she began counting the pairs of shoes in her closet. My family was poor. Not uneducated or unskilled, just too many mouths to feed. I’m one of seven children, and we watched both parents work hard to make ends meet. There’s no way I’m going to slave all of my life and end up with no more than I was born with, or so deep in debt I can’t rest at night.”

“So you basically divorced over money, too. What a shame.”

“Yeah. She gave me an ultimatum: buy her a nicer home or she’d take the kids and leave. I didn’t, she did.” There was no bitterness in his voice.

“I hope you have a good relationship with your children. I hate seeing kids suffer during divorce. That’s one reason I’m glad Stan and I didn’t have children.”

“I have a good, but distant, relationship with the kids. Freda married a lawyer, and they live from paycheck to paycheck in that nice house she wanted. I suppose that compensates for having a husband who rarely sleeps at home. It’s one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ situations.”

Now, detecting bitterness, she was relieved when he asked a question she did not mind answering.

“So what about your family?”

“Dad is a high school principal. Mom is a nurse. I have two brothers, one younger, one older. I miss my family more that I ever imagined, and I’ve only been in Texas two weeks.”

“A teacher’s kid?” His eyes twinkled. “Uh-huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She liked his teasingly pleasant smile.

“The worst kids around belong to teachers and preachers. Didn’t you know that?”

“Not in my family. Dad was very strict. Loving, but strict. I was an obedient child.”

“I’m not too sure about that. I detect a bit of mischief in your eyes. Little demon kid.” He held his drink aloft and smiled.

She laughed. “No way. My parents were firm disciplinarians, rigid but fair, and they were very loving. My brothers and I towed the line unless we wanted to see the veins pop up in my father’s forehead. The entire family helped keep us straight. My paternal grandmother taught me a few lessons that still keep me out of trouble.”

“How so?”

“Mama Em, her name was Emelda, came to live with us when I was around eight. She told me stories about her youth, and in every story, no matter how tough things became, she managed to retain dignity and control. Being in control of my life is my prime endeavor. I want to say when, where, and how much.”

“Are you speaking personally or professionally?”

“Both. I’ve never used drugs, never smoked cigarettes, and I’ve never been wasted on alcohol. I obey laws and never take unnecessary chances. As Mama Em always said, I don’t throw rocks at the penitentiary. I like to have fun and I’m not totally inflexible. I’m willing to bend, but I like who I am. Anyone wishing to share my life will have to accept that.”

“Was that a problem for you and Stan?”

She thought about her answer while remembering Stan’s anger, hurled accusations, and the clash that could have ended tragically.

“No, the problem with Stan was insecurity. It drove him to hit me, and that is not something I will live with.”

“He was violent?”

“Not really. Not at all.” The face next to hers in her their wedding photo was the one she preferred to remember. “We were so in love and so happy for the first two years of our marriage. We graduated college, and I started working full-time at Sealand while working on my MBA at night. Stan was recruited by a subsidiary of a big software company. He dreamed of being this innovative software designer who would revolutionize the industry and make a mint. Of course, everyone in the firm had the same aspirations. There were no promotions and few raises. In the meantime, I was promoted from loan processor to underwriter, and then to head underwriter in no time flat.”

“And he was jealous of your career.”

“Oh, yeah. He was bothered that I made more money than he, and that I had a life outside our home. We had both planned to pursue advanced degrees, but while Stan was sitting around complaining in the evenings, I was in class. He blamed his lack of progress…you know the story. He was the victim of discrimination, didn’t attend the right college, didn’t fit in with the others. My schedule was tight, so he was alone a lot. I guess he had too much time to obsess over what he thought was failure.”

“Did you try to get him to stop blaming others and take charge of his life?”

She nodded. “Lots of long sermons, but things went from bad to worse. He would jokingly say that Sealand meant more to me than he did. I started sensing anger under the jokes, so I tried as hard as I knew how to make him see how much he meant to me. We had planned a night out, but I had an unexpected business dinner to attend. He was drinking when I got home. We argued and he slapped me.”

“Is that when you left?”

“I left, but not immediately. I just sat there at first, too stunned to react, and he fell asleep. The more I thought of what had happened, the sting on my skin…” She shook her head, as if seeking to clear it of a painful memory. “I just went crazy. I looked all over the house for something to hit him with, but a stupid wrench was the heaviest thing I could find. I raised it over my head and came down as hard as I could. When he didn’t move, I thought I had killed him. I ran out and drove to my parents’ home. He had already called, so they knew he was okay. The blow just glanced the side of his head, but the only thing I saw was blood and lifelessness.”

She shivered as she recounted that last, fatal blow to her marriage.

“Then I saw the anger in my father’s eyes when I said Stan had slapped me. He calmly asked what I wanted to do. I said I wanted a divorce. He and Mom drove me back to the apartment and Mom helped me pack while Dad listened to Stan slobber on and on about how my job was coming between us and about how much he loved me. After I loaded my things into the van, Dad pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket and stuck the barrel down Stan’s throat.”

Travis swallowed hard. “Mercy!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Mom and I were both shocked. I didn’t know Dad even owned a gun.” She chuckled. “Of course the biggest shock was on Stanford’s face. I’ll never forget that look.”

Her smile vanished. “He called every day for weeks, begging me to come home and give our marriage another try. I almost gave in several times, but I couldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened that night, what might happen if he became abusive again. The uncertainty of living in a potentially explosive situation is not my idea of control.”

“I can’t say I blame you or your father. Any man who would hit a woman deserves to have a gun shoved down his throat. I’m glad you learned to say when, where, and how much. Did your grandmother teach you any other lessons that helped you become the dynamic woman you are?”

“I wouldn’t use the word
dynamic
, but I did learn one lesson that has kept me on the straight and narrow. Mama Em was a vibrant woman who became miserable when Parkinson’s slowed her down. She walked slowly, usually with a cane, but she continued her daily walks. Daddy was afraid she’d fall. He told me to go with her and I always did, except on the day after my twelfth birthday. I was listening to my new stereo and let her go out alone.”

She bowed her head. “I intended to follow, but got too caught up in having fun. When darkness came and she wasn’t back, I took my little brother and walked around the block at least ten times without finding her. I can’t tell you how scared I was.”

“That she was hurt or that you’d get in trouble for letting her go out alone?”

“Both. I was afraid she was hurt and couldn’t get home or that someone had harmed her. My imagination ran wild. I remembered a shortcut through this vacant lot and dragged my brother, screaming and yelling, into an overgrown mess between two buildings. We found her, frightened but otherwise unharmed.” Her eyes moistened. “She was lucid most of the time, but the onset of senility played havoc with her mind. It saddened me to see her physically and mentally deteriorate.

“I told my dad about it right away, and that became another prelude to one of his many parables. He said ‘Mama was close to home but the unfamiliar passage, the change in directions turned her around, confused her, and she couldn’t find her way.’ I thought of that, and still think of it, whenever I’m tempted to take an unfamiliar route.”

She looked at his bowed head. “Did I put you to sleep?”

“No, you didn’t put me to sleep. I was just thinking of what you said. That was a nice story. Very profound.”

His smile was sweet and his eyes hazy. “I wish I had that wisdom to guide me when I was young. I can think of several wrong turns in my life. In some ways, I’m still trying to find my way back home. I’ll have to remember that story for my kids.”

“I’m not sure how effective it will be for them. It works for me because I can still see Mama Em’s face, walking in circles, so close to home and yet so lost.”

He smiled, and this time his smile was for her. “You’re a very nice person, Susan Cross. There’s real warmth in your soul.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Just a little. Your work face sometimes appears a little cold and ruthless, but I suppose that’s the way it has to be.”

She saw herself through his eyes and flinched. “What you see on my face is caution, not frost. I’m as nice as I’m allowed to be. I didn’t make the rules, but I am determined to control my life enough to be able to dodge the crap as it goes flying by. As hard as I try, I still sometimes fall short and need a soft place to land just like everyone else. The one thing I can tell you is that I believe in keeping it real. I’m cautious, and I’m not a hypocrite.”

They finished dinner and arrived in time to take the last two available seats at the Café
Rio
. She enjoyed the music and when the band took a break, Travis told her how nice it was to sit next to a beautiful woman who was also a great listener. He drove her home, and held her hand when they crossed the street to her building. She thanked him at her door.

“I really enjoyed the evening. I’ve never been so alone before,” she admitted. “Thanks for spending the evening with me.”

She showered and dressed for bed. The evening had been relaxing. She felt less stressed than at any time since arriving in Houston. Travis was a nice man, and she was happy to have found another friend. Sleep came easy, and with it dreams of closeness and total fulfillment. Strong arms held her close. Adoring eyes bore into her soul. She relented to passion that took away her breath. His mouth devoured hers and traveled down her body. Awakening. Igniting.

It was not a dream but a trance where she was lost in the glory of his being. She lay in his arms, enthralled just as she had been when he first walked into her office. There was no animosity between them, only fire. She whispered and then screamed his name. Awakened by the sound of her own voice and the fetching smile of Rev. Willard Cartwright in her head, she clutched a pillow against her body and sighed.

* * *

The Monday morning management meeting provided Susan with an opportunity to question the policies she felt were too lax and to give opinions when they were sought. She gladly shared her knowledge, including her views on the need for a unified operation. She watched Price’s face contort with disagreement.

“I understand that departments here are fairly independent and segregated. This poses a problem for me. We’re a team here at Sealand, and being a cohesive group is the only way to remain tops in our field. ”

Price hurled several questions her way, and she responded while thinking that, like Angie, her knowledge was underestimated. She responded with thorough explanations, and Travis watched her with a proud smile.

When Price asked about Cedargrove Heights, she thought before answering. “They have made serious allegations that I hope we can disprove. If not, the parties responsible will have to face the consequences. If Sealand falls, we all go with it. Another reason to remain unified.”

Her usually sharp answers became ambiguous and Price began to squirm.

Several employees praised her viewpoints and Susan thanked them, all the while knowing Price would attempt to undermine her whenever possible. She would just have to work around him. She and Angie continued combing through loan files for properties in Cedargrove Heights and comparisons, and Susan scanned the papers for stories, anything she could find, on Rev. Willard Cartwright. When she found an article showing him attending a rally to protest capital punishment, she clipped the picture and kept it in her briefcase. It was not a good likeness, but she didn’t need one. His face was indelibly etched in her mind.

She and Travis attended a late-evening ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new branch office, and afterwards, Travis invited her to a dinner. They went to a soul food restaurant that happened to be in Cedargrove Heights. Susan decided to involve Travis in her new project.