What I Saw and How I Lied

Chapter 17

I could hear Joe's running footsteps in the hall before he swung open the door hard and looked at me. "Where's your mother?" he asked. "Playing golf."

"Come on, let's pick her up early." Joe walked in, picked me up, and swung me around. "The deal is going through. Tom made the offer, and it was accepted."

"You mean we're moving to Florida?"

"We're moving, kiddo! Nothing's been signed, but Tom and I shook hands on the deal."

"Wow!"

"We sign the papers on Wednesday. Come on, let's go spread the cheer. Tom said I could take the Cadillac." He grabbed my hand and we flew down the hall.

We jumped into the big beautiful car and Joe took off, driving down along the ocean, all the windows open. As we crossed the Lake Worth Bridge, the blue lake turned flat gray and the first drops began to fall. I heard a distant rumble of thunder.

Joe turned into the parking lot of the golf course. In front of us was a long rectangle of green that ran down the side of the lake. Golfers were pushing their carts toward the clubhouse, not hurrying too much yet in the cooling rain. We sat, waiting to see Mom, trying to spy the splash of pink of her blouse, or her white golf skirt.

I looked around the parking lot. Her car wasn't there. I was about to tell Joe, but I realized he'd already noticed. Still we sat in the car, staring at the wet grass, until every last golfer left the course and the thunder boomed.

She came in the front doors as Joe and I sat waiting. He wouldn't go upstairs, he wouldn't change, he just sat in the chair, feet planted. I wanted to wait for her out in the courtyard but he said, "Stay here, Evie," and that was that.

Mom smiled as she saw us, but something in Joe's face must have warned her, because she tossed her hair back in a way I knew well. When the rent was late, when she hadn't paid the milkman, she never got weasely, she got defiant.

Joe put down his drink and leaned back. "How was the golf game?"

She took another deliberate step forward and picked up his drink. She took a sip.

Arlene came though the door then, carrying her big canvas bag, and Mom put down the drink.

"Hello, troops," Mrs. Grayson said.

"I didn't go golfing today," Mom said. "I was with Arlene."

Arlene was wearing her sunglasses. We couldn't see her eyes. And if you weren't watching carefully, if you were, like Joe, keeping your eyes on your wife, you wouldn't have seen that she hesitated for a minute before she turned to Joe. "I found all the bargains, you'll be glad to hear," Arlene said to him. "Your wallet is safe, m'dear."

Arlene walked off to the elevator. Mom leaned over and kissed Joe. "Let me take a quick bath and I'll join you," she said. She slipped away, hurrying to catch the elevator with Mrs. Grayson.

"You didn't tell her," I said.

Joe leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

That night the voices woke me up. Arguing. "Why ties, Bev?”

“Not this again."

"Why ties? Why not gloves? Why not dresses?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake. I told you, that's where they placed me."

"The tie department?"

"That's right, Joe." Her voice was so weary.

"You must have had a lot of customers."

He hit the last word with a hard c and let it roll out, cus-to-mers.

"Shhh! You'll wake the hotel!"

I slid out of bed and went to the louvered door, put my ear against it.

"Yeah," he continued. "Mom told me how well you did, how you sold more ties in a month than the poor slob you took over for did in a year."

"Not really. There was a war on —"

"Oh, you remember that, do you?"

I heard the sounds of them moving around, getting ready for bed. The slap of the hairbrush against the vanity.

"So you recalled you had a husband in the service, that's good."

"It's late. Let's go to sleep."

"And the candy store, Bev. Nice how your uncle took care of you."

"Yeah, it was lucky."

"Evie told me. Cut you plenty of slack, gave you extra money on rent day. But then after he died, your aunt cut you off. Why do you think she did that?"

"Because she was a bitch."

"No reason, then."

"Dry up."

"No reason in the world.”

“I'm going to bed."

"Right?" Joe's voice was loud now. I heard a crash, and Mom gave a little yell. I flung open the door.

The pineapple vase was on the floor, smashed. Mom bent down to pick up the pieces. I started forward, but she shook her head.

"Go to bed, baby." Her voice was calm but her hands shook as she stacked the pieces, bright yellow, bright green.

"No reason in the world." Joe muttered this, his back to me, and I heard ice hit a glass.

I woke up to the sound of my door opening. Four a.m. I sat up. Joe stumbled through the doorway, tripped on a sandal, and fell by my bed.

He cursed into the carpet. There was no Grandma Glad to say None of that language, you're out of the army now, Sergeant.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah." He turned over and lay faceup. "I love her. I love your mother. You know that.”

“I know that."

"I didn't mean to break the vase.”

“I know."

"I'm not sorry it broke, though. Damn, it was ugly."

Somehow Joe and I started to laugh. "It was just plain awful," I whispered.

Joe stared at the ceiling. "She's all I thought about, getting back stateside, doing right by Bev. Getting her things she never had. Taking care of her. She's my baby doll." In the dim light, I saw the silvery streaks of tears on Joe's face. "I'm all balled up, now. I'm just all balled up."

"Go to sleep."

It was warm in the room, but I slid off the bed and put a blanket over him. He caught my wrist and held it, his eyes closed.

"Where does she go, Evie?" he asked. "Where does she go?"

To celebrate the sale, even though it hadn’t happened yet, Mr. Grayson announced that he was taking us all to dinner down the coast. Even Peter.