Eye of the Storm (4 page)

"I want to have each and every art piece evaluated and some of the accent pieces in this house are valuable antiques. Mother never paid attention to what things cost. She had no idea, no idea at all what she was giving away."
I stepped out and looked down the hallway at the three of them. My mother looked smartly dressed in a black leather jacket, a tailored shirt and an anklelength pleated skirt. Aunt Victoria wore her usual double-breasted business suit and Grant was in a dark blue, pin-striped suit.
Right from the moment I first met my real mother. I could see the resemblance between us. She was about my height, slim and small boned. We had the same color eves and practically the same shape jaw. Her forehead wasn't as wide and her nose was smaller, but perfectly straight with just a slight sharpness at the tip.
The dimple in her cheek flashed on and off at will it seemed or else reacted to some thought flashing through her mind. I always wondered what my real mother saw when she looked at me. Did she see the resemblances between me and my father and did that bring back some romantic memory? Or did she merely see a living, breathing problem, a reminder of her big mistake? I had long since given up the hope that she would ever look at me the way a mother should look at a daughter: eyes filled with pride and love.
Today, her eyes were dark with worry. Every time she turned them to me, they would practically shout out with the plea for me to make all the stress disappear. I could hear her prayer: let me return to my fantasy world: let me continue to float through my happy illusions, ignoring anything and everything unpleasant and burying worry and concerns in some bottom drawer to be forgotten. Please, those eyes begged from the very second she turned to me in the hallway, please. Rain.
Grant was as calm and as distinguished as ever. His suit looked as though it had just come off the rack in the department store. He was a handsome man with thick, light brown hair that resembled the color of dry hay when the sunlight played through it. I saw that during the days of Grandmother Hudson's funeral and after. Somehow he managed to keep a tan all year long. I suspected he went to one of those tanning salons. His dark complexion brought out the blue in his blue-green eyes, eves that always looked full of intelligence. When he gazed at me. I could feel his concentration, his search for every little hint of thought in my face. No wonder he was so successful in court and as a negotiator.
The moment I appeared. Victoria's stern, narrow and honey face flashed its fury at me. She pulled back her shoulders and stiffened her long neck. After what Jake had revealed. I couldn't help searching for some suggestion of him in her looks. Now that I was thinking about it. I did see similarities in their mouths and jaws and even in the shape of their eyes. However, she had nothing of his joviality, not even a hint of softness or compassion in her face. What brought laughter and smiles to Jake's lips brought only smirks and scowls to hers. I couldn't imagine her even considering the possibility of any relationship to him, much less being his daughter.
Jake was right: I could wound her deeply by telling her. She thought she was such a blue blood.
"We'll all go into the drawing room," she declared.
"I'll be right there." I said and deliberately returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. I wanted them to wait.
When I did enter the room. I could see my making her wait had raised Victoria's ire to explosive heights. Her normally pallid cheeks were crimson and her eyes looked like matches had been lit behind them.
"If you have the time for us, we'd like to have a sensible business conversation," she said.
My mother and Grant were sitting on the settee. Grant was sitting back with his legs crossed. My mother looked very uncomfortable, her shoulders turned in, her eyes down. She glanced up at me to see what I was going to do.
"Hello to all of you. too," I said and sat in the chair opposite Victoria.
She turned to Grant, who was obviously elected to conduct the meeting. I was sure they had practically rehearsed every word at lunch before arriving.
"You were expecting us, weren't you?" he began softly.
"No, not really. I learned about your coming only from Jake who informed me he was picking you up in Richmond. I had to guess as to why."
Grant turned to Victoria who sat back, her arms on the arms of the chair, looking like some queen about to pronounce sentence on one of her subjects. Her long, thin right finger moved up and down nervously.
"I thought you were calling her.," he said.
"What difference did it make? She wasn't going anywhere," she said. Then, softening, she added. "I knew Jake would tell her."
She lifted her eyes and looked at Grant, obviously concerned he would be displeased.
"Okay. I apologize for what this looks like then. Rain. We didn't mean to come bursting in on you.'
"You're not," I said.
"Good. Now that things have settled down somewhat, we all should stand back and take a clear, intelligent look at what's been done and what should be done, for the benefit of all concerned," he quickly added.
"It seems very late for that," I said directing myself at my mother who continued to avoid my eyes.
"Yes, well, reliving mistakes doesn't really do anyone any good. It's like opening wounds, tearing away scars, bleeding and bleeding. Healing is way overdue," he said.
Grant did have a strong, resonant voice that he could shape with sincerity and feeling. He will be a great political candidate. I thought.
I glanced at Victoria and saw how she was fixed intently on him. It was almost as if he was speaking to her and not to me. It was only when she looked at him. I realized, that her face showed any softness. That held my curiosity almost as much as the purpose of the meeting.
"Now, no one is here to deny you what is rightfully yours. No one here wants you to return to your previous, unfortunate state," he continued.
"No one?" I asked glancing at Victoria.
"No one," he insisted. "However," he said. "there is an obvious misappropriation of good intentions, an obvious lack of balance. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson saw all this as an opportunity far her to right the wrongs she believed had been inflicted on you. Like any mother she wanted to right the wrongs committed by her child," he explained.
While he spoke about me and what was my mother's affair with an African-American man, he didn't so much as glance at her. He could have been talking about anyone, any client. Always the professional apparently, he could distance himself even from his own wife.
My mother didn't lift her gaze from the floor, but her right hand rose to flutter at her throat as if it were seeking some string of pearls to fondle, while her left hand squeezed her thigh. She looked like she was holding onto a railing to keep from falling,
"I don't believe my grandmother did anything for me out of guilt," I said. "She wasn't the type. She did what she believed was right and she had her reasons. You can call it disproportionate or whatever fancy word you want to use, but it's what she decided and she wasn't crazy at the time. Her attorney is willing to swear on the stand about that."
"I know, I know." Grant said, still talking in reasonable tones. "but when these things reach courtroom stages, what seems clear and simple often turns out to be quite complicated. Mr. Sanger will be the first to admit on the stand that he is not qualified to evaluate someone's mental condition. He's not trained as a psychiatrist or any sort of doctor. He's only an attorney doing the bidding of his client."
Grant smiled.
"Another good attorney will make that quite clear and then, if there is. and I fear there is, some reason to believe that Mrs. Hudson was under great emotional and psychological strain at the time, things might suddenly have a different appearance, especially to objective third parties.
"Now look at the facts. Rain. You weren't living here with her all that long before you went off to London. Before you left. Mrs. Hudson had great difficulty keeping domestic help. They either couldn't tolerate her or she wouldn't tolerate them."
"There was nothing mentally wrong with her," I insisted. "Jake will swear about her too."
Victoria blew a laugh out of her stiff, thin lips.
"Jake! The chauffeur? Another expert on the witness stand," she said.
I almost shouted it out then, almost cried. "That man you belittle as nothing but a chauffeur is your father!" But I remembered Jake's caution to use it only as a last resort.
Grant glared at her with a look of reprimand anyway, and she shook her head and looked away.
"Be that as it may. Rain, you're obviously a very bright young lady," he went on. "You can see where this might all go. In the end the family will have suffered. Your life will be put on hold and you might very well end up with much less than you should or could if you agree to sit down with me and be reasonable.
"There's no reason why we all can't be very friendly about it and look after each other's interests now," he continued. "I'm sure that was what Mrs. Hudson wanted, right?"
My mother looked up quickly to see how I was reacting. Was I anything like her? she wondered. I'm sure. Would I welcome Grant's soft, concerned and reasonable tone of voice? Would I look for a way to avoid conflict and unpleasantness? How could my reactions be any different from hers, always choosing the easiest solution no matter what cost it was to your own self- respect?
I glanced at Victoria, smiling to myself as I recalled the way she had spoken about my mother to Grandmother Hudson.
"Megan is afraid she'll get a wrinkle if she has one mature thought," she had said.
Victoria had only to look at my face to see that was not my biggest fear.
"I believe," I said slowly. "that my grandmother did what she wanted and expected that her children would respect that."
Grant stared at me a moment. I could see the frustration start at the corners of his eyes in the form of tiny wrinkles moving like thin cracks down a glass pane.
"When I spoke with you last. I mentioned a figure around a half-million dollars. Lawyers are going to be very expensive, for both of us.
I
think if you walked away from this difficult mess with a million dollars, you'd have a wonderful chance to build a successful life for yourself." he said quickly. "Especially if it's invested intelligently for you. I could help with that."
Victoria looked like she had swallowed a peach pit and it was stuck in her throat. That's how red her face became. My mother looked surprised. I imagined that Grant had decided on his own to raise the offer from a half a million to a million dollars.
"It's a lot of money." my mother said, almost in a whisper.
"It's not the money I care about so much," I said.
"Then what is it? Why would you want to remain here and be involved in such an ugly, legal battle?" Grant practically demanded.
"It's what Grandmother Hudson wanted." I said, I knew it was something I was repeating until it was almost a mantra, a chant to help me let through the tension, but it was what I truly believed,
"You can't believe she wanted everyone snipping at everyone else. right? You can't believe she wanted her family name dragged through the mud and splattered on the front pages for everyone to see? You can't believe that she worked and her husband worked all their lives for that sort of thing, can you? If you really cared for her and if you're really concerned about her legacy. you wouldn't let that sort of thing happen."
"Neither would any of you," I fired back.
Now. Grant's face took on some crimson. He sat back and let the hot air in his lungs slip out his slightly open lips.
"Would anyone like anything cold to drink?" I offered with a smile.
Victoria looked satisfied when she turned to Grant this time.
She looked like what she had predicted would happen had come true and she liked being right. Grant shook his head. Then he turned to my mother, which was obviously their predetermined signal for her to start.
"Don't you want to return to your studies in London?" she asked me.
"I'm thinking I will, yes. I'd like to get to know my father better, too."
"Well, how will you do all that if you're bogged down here in a legal swamp?" she asked. "You don't want any of that. Rain. You shouldn't have that in your life now. Go sit in the office with Grant and work out a compromise so we can put all this to rest and go back to being a family."
"A family? What kind of a family? You haven't even told your children who I really am. They looked at me at the funeral, wondering why I was crying more than they were!" I practically shouted.
"We're going to take care of that problem." she promised.
"Hmmm," Victoria muttered.
I knew she was thinking that this whole thing is a problem that shouldn't have begun.
"Good. You do that. Mother," I said. I stood up. "Mr. Sanger told me to tell you that if you have any questions about the will, you should refer them to him. I was just about to make some coffee before you all showed up. Would anyone else like some coffee?" I asked.
The three of them stared at me.
"Don't do this. Rain." my mother pleaded. "Your mama wouldn't have wanted this for you."
I felt the fire in my heart reach into my face, especially my eyes.
"You met my mama. Mother."
I
said slowly, each word stinging sharply as a dart. "You saw what she was like. Do you think she was a woman who ran from a battle?"
I turned before she could respond. and I walked out, feeling as if Grandmother Hudson's eves had been an me the whole time. I could almost see her smiling.
Almost immediately. Victoria began her complaining. I lingered in the hallway, listening.
"So much for how you were going to convince her. Megan. Your being here didn't add a thing to help us. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for what you did," she happily reminded her. "You've put Grant in a very difficult position. Now, what will we do. Grant?" she followed, her voice suddenly becoming the voice of a more desperate, feminine woman turning to her man for strength,
"We'll have to go see Marty Braunstein. I was hoping it would be for other reasons."
"Don't worry about it. Grant." Victoria assured him. "In time she will see how ridiculous it is for her to be a majority owner of the estate. She's young and she won't want to be bothered by all this
responsibility. Believe me, after a while, she will compromise. You don't have to risk your reputation,'" she told him. "Let me handle this. She wants to be involved in our affairs. All right. I'll involve her."