Page 17 of Into the Woods


  "Of course," Mommy replied. "I applaud you for that. However. I want you to understand that Grace has never had an incident like this before. She has been, as you can readily see from her transcripts, an ideal student, always an A student."

  It takes only one incident to cause a bigger problem, Mrs. Houston. Someone's past history is important, of course, but violence is violence."

  "Do you know the whole story?" Mommy countered. unflinching.

  "I was told a story, yes," she admitted.

  "They've been ganging up an her, baiting her. Grace shouldn't have fallen far it, but the others are not total innocents. Mrs. Greenstein, and in your dispensing of justice you should consider all of it."

  "If I involved myself in the intrigues and soap operas of our students I wouldn't get anything accomplished. Maybe at the schools your daughter has attended the administrators had the time for all that nonsense, but we don't."

  "Grace hasn't attended anything but regular public schools. Mrs. Greenstein, and judging someone or something with all the facts is not nonsense."

  "Um. Well, here's what we'll do," she said, obviously either impatient with the argument or uncomfortable facing someone as strong as my mother, "She's suspended for the remainder of this week. She's on probation for the remainder of the year. Should she commit any other acts of violence, no matter how she is baited, she's out of here. I still expect letters of apology to the teachers who had to pull her off the other girl."

  "And as far as the others go, no reprimands, nothing?" my mother asked.

  "Let's be concerned only with your daughter. Mrs. Houston, It would seem to me you have enough with just her. I'll look after the remaining students," she said with a cold smile.

  "Grace will suffer her punishment because she did act in an improper manner, but if I hear another incident of her being baited or persecuted and nothing done about that. I will be back." Mommy said, and returned the cold smile. "There are all sorts of forms of violence, same even more painful than physical violence."

  Mrs. Greenstein said nothing for a moment and then stood up. "Thank you for coming," she told Mommy. She looked at me. Have those letters on my desk when you return on Monday." she said.

  I nodded, and we left the office. Mommy said nothing, but I could feel the rage burning inside her as we marched out of the office and through the corridor to the nearest exit.

  "That woman." she said through clenched teeth, "Your father would say, 'I wonder where she keeps her steel marbles.'Another Captain Queeg from The Caine Mutiny"-

  I was afraid to say a word. Before we got home, she shook her head. "I'm sorry you're in her school. Grace. I wish I could put you someplace else."

  "I'll be all right. Mommy."

  "Yes." she said, but not with her usual tone of confidence. Since I wasn't attending school for the next three days, she suggested I come with her to the restaurant. Randy called and promised to get me all my homework. At least I would have that to do during the day.

  I was glad to go to the restaurant and be with people. I was still feeling very sad for Augustus, as well as myself. Dallas was very sympathetic and nice to me. I put on one of my prettier dresses and helped her with the hostess work, as I had before. On the second night Phoebe showed up with Roger and saw me. She smiled and said. "Glad you found a job that suits you."

  I didn't respond. but I glanced at Roger. He looked away guiltily. He followed her into Warren's office and then left with her.

  All the next day I sensed that Mommy was excited about something. She spent more time on her hair, makeup, and fingernails before we left for the restaurant, and she was never as anxious about getting there. It puzzled me until a distinguished-looking older man arrived, and I noted he had a reservation for one under the name Winston Montgomery,

  I had the feeling he knew who I was when he came into the restaurant. He approached the hostess desk and stood there for a moment smiling at me without speaking.

  "Can I help you?" I asked.

  "Winston Montgomery. I had a reservation far eight. Not for eight people," he quickly corrected, "For eight P.M."

  I smiled and looked at the seating chart, realizing he was in Mommy's section.

  "Right this way," I said, taking a menu. I led him to his table, the one in the far left corner.

  "Thank you." he said when I pulled out the chair for him and handed him the menu. He spoke in sharp, crisp tones like someone who was conscious of every syllable, vowel, and consonant. His voice had the resonance of a radio personality's.

  "Enjoy your dinner. The waitress will be with you right away."

  "How well do you know my waitress?" he asked me before I could return to the desk. The impish glint in his bluish gray eyes assured me he already knew the answer,

  "Fairly well, since she's my mother," I said.

  "I had a feeling she might be. You look just like her."

  "I wish," I said, and he laughed.

  He was a tall man, about two inches or so taller than Daddy had been. His hair was thick but completely gray and cut stylishly. He had a narrow jaw but a strong, firm mouth and a nearly perfect nose. I saw he wore a beautiful gold pinky ring with a triangular diamond at the center. His Rolex watch had a band of gold that matched the gold of his ring,

  "Like it?" he asked. seeing I was eyeing the watch. He held his wrist up so I could get a better look. "I just bought it this morning. I've never owned a Rolex before, I'm rarely extravagant when it comes to myself. I'd much rather spend my money on pretty ladies," he added with a demure smile.

  "Oh. I see you have met my daughter," Mommy said, coming up behind me.

  Winston Montgomery rose from his seat and gave a gentle bow. "I have indeed," he said. "I would have known her anywhere, Jackie Lee. She has inherited your best qualities."

  "Thank you," Mommy said. blushing. I had never seen her like this. She was standing there with her eyes twinkling like a teenager's.

  "I'd better get back to the front," I said sharply, and walked away.

  When I looked back I saw Mommy standing beside him and looking down at him as if he was a movie star. Actually he was looking up at her the same way. It gave me a very funny feeling, a feeling of surprise but annoyance as well.

  Winston Montgomery took hours to dine. He seemed content with simply sitting there watching Mommy move about the restaurant. I noticed that every chance she had she paused to speak with him at his table. Whenever I brought someone new into the dining area, he smiled and nodded at me.

  Finally Dallas noticed how I was studying him and watching every move Mommy made around him.

  -Do you know who that man is?" she asked.

  "I know his name. Winston Montgomery," I said.

  "He has an estate in Palm Beach. He's very, very wealthy. Grace. His family had major interests in pharmaceuticals. He's mostly retired now. I understand, Recently he lost his wife. They had no children." she added, raising her eyebrows. "There's no one immediate to inherit all that money."

  I looked his way again. Mommy was serving a table nearby, but her eyes were catching his so often she nearly dropped a plate in someone's lap.

  "How old is he?" I asked. He was good-lookng, but the lines in his face and his gray hair made me think he was very old.

  "Only in his sixties," Dallas said. laughing. "These days," she whispered. "older men are better catches, especially older men with money. Oh, hello." she said to a couple who had just entered the restaurant.

  I digested what she had said and looked again at Mommy and Winston Montgomery. She can't be thinking of him in a romantic way, I thought. Not a man that much older. She was just thirty-eight. She's just being extra nice, I told myself, so she will get a bigger tip.

  When Winston Montgomery was finished with his dinner he didn't leave the restaurant. He went into the small bar. At about ten-thirty, things began to wind down. Mommy and Dallas were off whispering in a corner so often I thought I was at a high school dance. By just about eleven P.M. all her customers h
ad paid their bills and left their tables.

  When I looked for her I found her in the bar talking to Winston Montgomery. She saw me watching from the doorway and excused herself and came to me.

  "We're going home," she said.

  "You don't have to wait for everything to be proved as usual?" I asked.

  "Dallas is covering for me. C'mon. honey. You did very well tonight. She has some tip money for you. too."

  I glanced back at Winston Montgomery, who smiled my way and turned to the bartender. Mommy hurried me out of the restaurant and into our car.

  It was a good night." she said. "I did much better than I expected."

  "I never ask you about money. Mommy. How are we doing?"

  "We're okay, honey, but," she added, turning to me with her eves bright and steely, "we're going to do better. Cruel fate has had its way with us. but I am determined not to let it enjoy its success too long." She spoke through clenched teeth.

  "What do you mean?" I asked. I had never heard her speak with such vehemence. It was as if she truly knew cruel fate's address and would soon pay it a visit.

  "I go to work in Dallas and Warren's beautiful upscale restaurant, and I see these women, some not much older than I am, bedecked in diamonds and gold, wearing the latest fashions, dresses that run in the thousands. and I think, why do they have so much happiness? What's their secret? What did they do to be so lucky?"

  "What is the secret?" I asked her.

  "Knowing what you want and going for it with resolution. Maybe even becoming obsessed," she said more to herself than to me now.

  She didn't sound like herself. I couldn't help but wonder if what had happened to me at school was partly responsible for it.

  "Don't worry." she added after a long silence. "We're going to do well. People like that principal of yours won't be so smug."

  "I'm sorry. Mommy," I said. It was clear that was indeed part of the reason for her unhappiness and strange new mood,

  "Don't you say that. Grace. Don't you ever apologize because of people like that. Damn." she said, pounding the steering wheel with the base of her palm. It made me flinch. "Your father would have chewed her up and spit her out.'

  I looked out the window.

  We would never stop missing him, never stop needing him, never stop loving him.

  When we entered the condo I went right to my room and started to prepare for bed. I heard Mommy moving about in her room: drawers opened and closed, water running. She was taking a shower, which in and of itself wasn't unusual, but she didn't sound as if she was winding down far the night. She had her portable CD player going, and she did that only when she was preparing for an evening out. Surely it was too late for that, I thought, especially after she had been on her feet all night.

  After I put on my nightgown I went to her door and knocked. "Mommy?"

  "Just a minute," she said. When she opened the door I stepped back in surprise. She was wearing one of her most expensive dresses and had redone her makeup. The dress was an off-the-shoulder black chiffon with a sweetheart neckline. She hadn't looked this pretty and sexy since my daddy's death. She fiddled with her earrings a moment. "What. Grace?" she asked.

  "Where are you going?" I replied. "It's after midnight."

  "Things often don't start in Palm Beach until now,"

  "Palm Beach?"

  "I'm going out with Winston. I'm tired of working and slaving and not doing anything that's in the slightest way fun. Don't look so upset."

  "I'm not," I lied. "I'm just surprised. You never said anything."

  "I don't have to say anything. Grace. I'm the adult here," she snapped back at me.

  I bit my lower lip and felt my eyelids blinking quickly to keep the tears from fanning.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that. I'm just... frustrated," she said. "I shouldn't take it out on you. It's certainly not your fault. Just go to sleep, and don't worry about anything. Grace. You're too intense. That's partly my fault. But we're going to start changing our lives for the better. We've got to lift ourselves out of the doldrums, or cruel fate will have its way with us."

  She smiled, "Okay. honey?"

  I nodded.

  We both heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.

  "I've got to go," she said, rushing to stand before the mirror once more. "How do I look?"

  "Beautiful," I said. She did. "Thank you."

  She scooped up her purse and hurried to the front door. I followed slowly.

  ''Don't look so worried." she said. smiling. She opened the door. and I looked out. too.

  There at the front of our unit was the longest, sleekest white stretch limousine I had ever seen. Mommy paused and sucked in her breath as if she was about to dive into an Olympic swimming pool to race. Then she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

  I went to the front window quickly and watched as the chauffeur hurried around to open the limousine door. She stepped into the luxurious vehicle, and I just caught sight of Winston Montgomery's long leas and his hand reaching to help her. The chauffeur closed the door and slowly drove the limousine out of our complex.

  Letting go of the curtain. I stepped back in confusion and awe. How could she go out with a man that much older than she was? A man who couldn't compare to my handsome, strong daddy, whom she had loved so much that the sun rose and set with his every smile, his every kiss?

  What was happening to her? And to me?

  I strolled slowly back to my room and paused in the doorway, looking at the teddy bear from London that I had placed against my pillow. It seemed to have a smile of confusion on its face as well. Hugging it to me. I crawled under my blanket and stared up at the dark ceiling.

  People really do die more than once, I thought. The second funeral takes place in your memory You bury them under new events, new faces, ne-w relationships, andwhen you do; you bury a little of yourself as well.

  What was it Augustus had told me? All life was suffering. Everything that lives, lives on something that dies? He was warning me, letting me know what to expect. As short as our friendship was, that was a significant gift.

  "I don't care. Daddy," I whispered to the night. "I won't let go of you. Even if it means I'll never be happy again."

  I fell asleep with that promise on my lips.

  10

  A Bridge to Cross

  .

  I never heard Mommy came home and

  attributed that to my having fallen into a very deep sleep. An earthquake probably wouldn't have stirred my eyelids. I was that exhausted. mostly from emotional strain. But after I rose and went out to the kitchen to start making coffee for us. I realized Mommy's door was wide open. She usually closed it before going to sleep. Curious. I went to her room and peered in. Her bed was unslept in. untouched. The realization that she had not come home yet hit me as sharply as a slap across the face. I actually heard myself say. "What?' as if I had to state the obvious to believe it. She wasn't home.

  I stepped back. trembling. This could very well mean something terrible had happened to her. All sorts of wild ideas began to stampede across my imagination. Maybe this Winston Montgomery was some sort of wealthy serial killer, Maybe Mommy had decided to leave him and set out on her own and something happened to her. Or maybe they were in a bad accident and no one knew who she was yet. I started to get frantic. I debated calling Dallas but thought I might just get her upset and later Mommy might be very angry at me.

  To keep my mind occupied I returned to the kitchen and started again to make some coffee. Just as I turned on the coffee maker. the front door opened and Mommy entered. She didn't look tired at all even though she had obviously been out all night. In fact, as she entered she was smiling, smiling until she saw me standing there.

  "Oh. Grace. I was hoping to get home before you got up." she said.

  "Where were you? It's morning. How could you stay out so late?" I asked, each question in a louder voice. "How could you do this without calling me?"

 
She looked as guilty as a teenager caught coming home after her curfew. All these events had ironically reversed our roles and responsibilities to each other.

  "You're right. I'm sorry. Grace. It was just that I was having such a good time I didn't pay attention to the time. You know how that can be. I'm sure."

  "No, Mommy. I don't," I shot back at her. "I've never done anything like this to you. How could you not realize it was becoming morning? How?" I cried, my arms up.

  She nodded. "I know it seems fantastic. but..."

  "Seems fantastic? It is fantastic! I thought something terrible must have happened to you."

  "I'm sorry. Grace, but no matter how many times I say that, it won't change it," she said, losing her patience. "so let's drop it. It won't happen again." She marched down the short hallway to her bedroom.

  I stood there in disbelief. Drop it? What would she have said if the roles were reversed and it was I who had stayed out all night without calling? I followed and watched her get undressed.

  "How could you not realize the time. Mommy?"

  She paused. "We were having a good time listening to music at the club and meeting people. I haven't been out socially in so long I almost forgot what it was like. You should have seen the people there, the clothes, the jewelry. Do you know who just happened to be there? Philippe D'Anotelli, You know who he is, the famous Italian designer. All the movie stars wear his clothes. He stopped to say hello to Winston, and we were introduced."

  "But you didn't stay there all night?"

  "No, we went to Winston's home. Home." she said with a laugh. 'Little castle would be more like it. It's walled in like most of the estates in Palm Beach. It's another world there. Grace. Dallas was right. When you cross over the Flagler Bridge and enter Palm Beach you think you've entered another count populated only by the rich and famous, with beautiful streets and shops and restaurants, everything looking new and fresh. People are so insulated there. Grace, so well protected. It's as if sickness and death can't come over the bridge. They don't even have a hospital or a cemetery!

  "Anyway," she continued as if her excitement wouldn't permit her to pause, "the gates of Winston's home opened like the gates of heaven might, and we started up this beautiful mauve driveway which looked brand new. I think someone comes out and vacuums it every day."