In truth, Luther Jr. had grabbed the candy but when he took one bite it was so bad he spit it out and threw the rest over the Whatleys’ fence.
Macky walked in the door at Aunt Elner’s and winked at Norma.
“Well, Aunt Elner, I’ve got bad news for you. They’re still alive. Too bad. You might have gotten a medal from the town if you had wiped them all out.”
Norma said, “I’m glad you can joke about it. We came very close to having Aunt Elner wind up in the state penitentiary. Wouldn’t that have been nice for Linda, having her great-aunt sitting up on Death Row.”
Macky laughed.
Norma looked at him. “Laugh if you want, Macky, but she would never have gotten into a decent sorority!”
The Meeting
IT WAS SOME TIME after the memorial before Betty Raye could get up the nerve to do something she had wanted to do for a long time. She asked State Trooper Ralph Childress to let her out a half block away and when she reached the front of the building in Kansas City a uniformed doorman tipped his hat saying, “May I help you, ma’am?”
She fumbled around in her purse. “Uh, I’m here to see Mrs. Vita Green?”
“Yes, ma’am. Who shall I say is calling?”
Betty Raye, who was wearing a scarf and sunglasses, panicked. She had not realized she would be announced. She almost turned around and left but she figured she had come this far, she might as well come out with it. She said almost inaudibly, “Tell her it’s Mrs. Sparks.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pushed a button. “Mrs. Green, I have a Mrs. Sparks here to see you.”
There was a pause.
He repeated the name “Mrs. Sparks” and there was another long interval. Betty Raye’s heart was pounding so hard she wanted to run. After a moment, he hung up and said, “Go right in. Take the elevator up to fourteen, get off, and take a left up the stairs. Turn right and you will see 15A.”
“Thank you,” she said and got in the elevator and almost threw up.
Vita was caught a little off guard by this unexpected visit. Her first thought was to say that she was not home. But she might as well get this over with, so why not today? She had no idea why the woman was here but she guessed that whatever the reason, it was not going to be a pleasant one. She called out to her maid, who was in the kitchen. “Bridget, answer the door and tell the lady I’ll be right out.” She went to her bedroom to get some clothes on. After all this time it was still hard to even get up and get dressed.
When Betty Raye got off the elevator, she walked up the stairs. When she reached the door she pushed the buzzer to the apartment and the noise made her jump. After a moment the door opened and Bridget was prepared to say, as she had a hundred times, “Please come right in and have a seat. Mrs. Green will be with you shortly,” but when she recognized Betty Raye from the pictures she had seen of her in the papers all she could do was to drop her mouth open and stare. Betty Raye was surprised as well; she had steeled herself, expecting Vita Green to be standing on the other side of the door. Finally she asked, “Is this Mrs. Green’s apartment?”
Bridget managed a “Yes, ma’am.”
“Is she in?”
“I’ll go see.”
She ran and threw open the bedroom door white as a ghost, her eyes wide with fright. “The archbishop’s wife is here. She’s at the door right now. What do you want me to do? Are you here?”
Vita was sitting at her dressing table, calmly putting on her lipstick. “It’s all right, I’ll handle it.”
“I can tell her you just left town.”
“No, but if you hear a gunshot call the police.”
“Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Bridget said.
Vita smiled and patted her hand. “Just kidding,” she said but thought to herself, I hope, and walked out to greet Betty Raye, who was still standing at the door.
Vita was as smooth as silk and acted as if she were saying hello to just another acquaintance and not the wife of the man who had been the love of her life. “Governor Sparks, I’m sorry you had to wait but I was not dressed. Won’t you come in?”
Betty Raye’s knees were weak as she stepped into the living room. The entire apartment had a faint scent of Shalimar perfume, a familiar smell. Hamm always had the aroma on him.
“Have a seat, Governor. May I offer you coffee, tea?”
“Oh no, thank you. Just a glass of water, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly. Bridget, would you please bring Governor Sparks a glass of water.”
After they sat, Vita said, “I’m sure you know how sorry I am and all of us on the arts council are for your loss.”
Betty Raye nodded. “Oh yes, and I appreciated your note and flowers.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
Betty looked around. “You have a beautiful apartment.”
“Thank you.” This was the first time the two women had seen each other since their brief meeting a few years ago, and Betty Raye found that she still felt like an awkward schoolgirl around Vita. Vita, now sitting across from her, wearing earrings made of two huge chunks of lime green crystal stones the same color as her eyes, was still one of the most glamorous women she had ever seen.
Vita was doing some observing of her own. She had seen plenty of pictures of Betty Raye, of course, and there were those few hurried seconds when they had met at the Wheeler party, but now that she had a chance to study her up close, it was a different thing. She saw a woman with nice enough features, nothing outstanding, but there was something about her eyes she had not noticed before. And she sat there wondering what it was. Her hands were long and graceful, her mouth generous in a way that saved a too thin face, but it was still her eyes that had caught Vita off guard again. She had not expected that.
When Bridget brought her a glass of water, Betty Raye took it and smiled and said, “Thank you.”
Vita suddenly figured out what it was she saw in her eyes and where she had seen it before. Betty Raye’s eyes had the same guileless look in them as a little female dog she had once had. There was a sweetness about them, mixed with sadness and something else, and all at once Vita realized that this woman was not going to shoot anybody. She was the one who was frightened. She told Bridget she could go and that she would call her if she needed her for anything else. The maid shot her an “Are you sure?” look and Vita nodded to reassure her.
They sat looking at each other. Finally Betty Raye spoke. “Mrs. Green, I thought I had a reason to come here but right now I can’t remember what it was. I feel like a fool—all I’ve done, I’m afraid, is to embarrass myself. I thought you might need someone to talk to, someone who, well, I guess the thing I wondered about was if you were all right or if you needed anything. I know how fond you were of my husband and how fond he was of you . . . how much he depended on you . . . for advice and things. You were not at the memorial service and I think I know why.” At that point Betty Raye hiccuped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought how hard that must have been on you not to have—” She hiccuped again. “Well, that’s great. I’ve got the hiccups.”
Vita stood up and took her glass. “Here, let me get you some more water,” she said and went in the kitchen while Betty Raye sat on her couch, hiccuping. When Vita handed her the water, Betty Raye said apologetically, “Thank you,” took a big sip, and spilled water down the front of her dress. “Oh dear, this is not how I planned this to be. I wanted—” She hiccuped again. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do what Hamm might have wanted someone to do.”
Vita sat there and watched this woman fall totally apart right before her very eyes but there was nothing she could say. She still was not sure exactly how much she really knew. Betty Raye tried to continue. “I thought that I was being noble or something but now that I’m here I realize I came because I needed you to tell me some things.” Then she burst into tears. “I think I need a friend and I don’t know where to turn. Well, I better leave.” She stood up. “I certainly did not mean to do this.” When she reached the doo
r she hiccuped again, said, “I’m so sorry,” and went out and closed the door.
Vita sat there for a moment listening to Betty Raye hiccup down the hall, then got up and thought to herself, I’m probably going to regret this. She got to the elevator doors just as they opened and took Betty Raye by the arm. “Come back.”
Betty Raye said, “No . . . I should just go and let you alone.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Vita turned to the puzzled elevator operator standing there waiting and said, “She’s not leaving.”
Betty Raye said, “I’m not?”
“No, you’re not, come on with me.”
As Vita led her back up the stairs to the apartment, Betty Raye said, “I promise, I’m not really as dumb as I seem,” and hiccuped again. When she got Betty Raye back inside Vita sat her down and handed her a glass of brandy. “Drink this.”
Betty Raye took a drink and looked at Vita in horror. “What is that?”
“Brandy.”
“Oh well, I thought I’d come here today because I wanted you to know if there was anything I could do for you and to tell you that you are welcome to see the boys anytime you want; I realize you must miss him terribly.” She paused a moment, then said, “But I did have a question. Mrs. Green, I hate to ask you this, but I wondered: Do you have any idea what happened to him?”
“No, I don’t, Mrs. Sparks. I wish I did. Believe me.”
“Oh. I thought if anyone knew it would be you . . . ”
Vita looked at her very carefully. “Did you know about your husband and me?”
“Oh yes.”
“For how long?”
“From the beginning, I guess. Hamm was not the subtlest of men.”
“And you never said anything?”
“No. But please don’t think I’m a saint, I’m not. It nearly killed me. I cried over it, I prayed about it, but you can’t make a person stop loving another person just by telling them to stop. If I had, he would have resented me the rest of his life. It was a problem with no solution or at least none I could think of. Oh, there was a time I thought about leaving him, and I should have, I guess. But I knew a divorce would have ruined his career, so I made the decision not to leave and I adjusted to it.” She looked at the brandy glass. “I think this stuff has cured my hiccups. And of course I kidded myself that if I ran for governor for him he might have to depend on me. And I hoped that maybe one day he would get over you. But I think the real truth is I just didn’t have the courage to leave. I’m not a very brave person, Mrs. Green, and the thought of having to go out on my own and raise the children alone . . .”
Betty Raye took another drink of the brandy and made another face. “But there were times when I did wonder what you thought of me or if you ever thought of me or if you were trying to get him to leave me. Of course, when I met you and saw how beautiful and smart you were, I could understand why he fell in love with you. I couldn’t blame him, really. I mean, you were everything I wasn’t. I even wondered if you hated me for not leaving him. . . . Did you?”
Vita got up and walked across the room to the bar and fixed herself a strong drink and after a moment said, “No, I didn’t hate you. The truth is that I never thought about you.”
“I see,” said Betty Raye.
“Now that I think back, it wasn’t so much that I didn’t care, it was just that I couldn’t afford to think about you. I suppose if any woman having an affair with a married man ever really stopped to think about the man’s wife and what it was doing to her, she would not be able to keep doing it. I didn’t even have the excuse that most have that the wife is terrible. I knew you weren’t terrible but what I didn’t know was just how well you did understand him.”
She came back over and sat down. “I think there are some things I do need to tell you. First of all, I never wanted to marry him. I am not the wife type and, believe me, I never wanted children. It’s you that should hate me. I’m the thief. I stole what should have been yours. I had the best of him and just gave you what was left over.”
Betty Raye smiled a little. “Well, in a way I feel I got the best of him. I have the boys. But the truth is, as much as he loved you and loved me . . . the children even . . . none of us ever really had him. Politics was his real love. We all came second to that.”
Vita acquiesced. “Maybe you’re right.”
Betty Raye knew she should leave. There was really nothing more to say. But for some reason she just sat there, unable to move. She kept looking at Vita as if she did have something more to say but she did not know what it was.
Vita wondered what was the matter with her, just sitting there looking so troubled. And then a thought occurred. She leaned over, took Betty Raye’s hand, and looked her in the eyes. “Mrs. Sparks, do you need help?”
A relieved Betty Raye grabbed her hand and blurted out, “Oh God, yes, yes, I do. . . . I don’t know what I am doing half the time or who to ask and without Hamm I’m scared to death. I know how smart you are and how much he depended on you. Oh, Mrs. Green, would you consider being my adviser?”
“First of all, it’s Vita and I will be happy to help you in any way I can, Mrs. Sparks.”
“Oh thank you, Vita—and it’s Betty Raye, please.”
They stood up and Vita walked her to the door. “So when would you like to get together again? Lunch tomorrow, say around one?”
“To tell you the truth, Vita, I don’t think I can wait that long,” Betty Raye said. “How about breakfast, say around eight?”
Vita laughed. “I’ll be there.” Vita did not usually like women but this one she liked. This little brown wren had more guts and heart than anyone had suspected. As they walked down the hall, Vita put her arm in Betty Raye’s and said, “You know, Betty Raye, I think this might be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
How Did You Meet Your Best Friend?
Neighbor Dorothy rushed down the hall calling out to Mother Smith, “I found it,” and ran in and sat down at her desk just as the red light went on. “Good morning, everybody, I have so many things for you today. We have a winner in our How Did You Meet Your Best Friend Contest . . . but first let me tell you what I forgot to mention yesterday. Give me a little Indian music, please, Mother Smith. We got a letter from the Goodnight sisters all the way from Oklahoma . . . and they sent us a photograph. I wish you could see it, they both have on feather bonnets and are standing beside a real Indian. They write, ‘Hello from the land of the red man. . . . We have just been adopted by Chief . . .’ well, I can’t make out the name . . . ‘and we are now members of the Miami Indian tribe. . . . We are on our way to a powwow. Wish you were here. Ada and Bess Goodnight . . . now known as . . . Princess Laughing Bird and Little Thunder.’ I tell you, those gals are fearless . . . no telling what they will be up to next. . . . But I can tell you what we are up to.
“Miss Virginia Mae Schmitt, our special guest all the way from Dale, Indiana, is here to sing a cute little novelty song for all you singles out there entitled ‘I’m Living Alone, and I Like It.’ But, before we get to our song, I want all you men listening to leave the room because I have a special announcement just for the ladies. Girls, make sure they are not listening . . . and Doc, I know you have the radio on down at the drugstore, so just turn it off for two minutes . . . and I mean it. Bertha Ann, go back behind the counter and make sure he does.” At the Rexall, Bertha Ann looked to see where Doc was and reached behind her and turned the radio down. “Well . . . Father’s Day is here again . . . and if you are anything like me, every year I wrack my brain trying to figure out just what to get Doc. Men . . . aren’t they just the hardest creatures in the world to buy for? But this year I think I have come up with a good one that you might want to think about yourself. You know how Doc loves his tools, so this year we are giving him a gift certificate to Warren’s Hardware store—so he can go pick out exactly what he wants. Just call Macky and he said he would be happy to make you out one for any amount.”
After her gues
t had sung, Dorothy came back on. “Thank you, Virginia Mae. I’m sure all you single gals out there enjoyed that one. And now without further ado, on to our winning letter. Mrs. Joni Hartman of Bible Grove, Missouri, writes:
“Dear Neighbor Dorothy,
“We have a lot of squirrels here in Bible Grove and they are always dropping acorns out of the trees. One day I was watching as a stranger walked past my house when a squirrel dropped a large acorn out of the tree and hit her on the head. She fell down thinking somebody shot her. I went out and told her she had been hit in the head by an acorn. I invited her in and gave her an aspirin and found out she worked for the Internal Revenue Service—that was the reason she thought somebody had shot her. She quit her job right after that and now has a good job working in the dead-letter department in Washington, D.C., and we correspond regularly.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Hartman. When you hear about things like that . . . it just does your heart good. One day a squirrel drops an acorn and the next thing you know you have a new friend, not to mention a free five-pound bag of Golden Flake Flour.
“We just never know what to expect next in life, do we?”
The Unexpected
Betty Raye did not know it, but she had not become friends with Vita Green a moment too soon. She would need a good friend and all the strength and courage she had for what was about to happen next.
Earl Finley had quietly done his dirty work behind closed doors, made the right deals and promises to the right people of both parties. He waited, coiled like a snake, until what he deemed a respectable amount of time had passed and then struck swiftly. Almost overnight, it seemed, a motion for a recall was put before the Missouri house and senate, stating that since Betty Raye had been elected with the expectation and understanding that her husband would run the state, that expectation was no longer valid. Within twenty-four hours, the motion was passed declaring that Betty Raye’s governorship was null and void and a new election was to take place to determine who would serve out her last two years in office.