Always and Forever (37 page)

“No more shop talk,” Cleo ordered. “We’re here to welcome in the new year.” She gazed nostalgically at the strolling fiddlers. “Do you suppose they know ‘I’m Falling in Love with Someone’?”

“I’ll ask them,” Marge said instantly.

“I love that song.” Cleo beamed a sentimental smile in Fred’s direction. “Fred used to sing it to me when we were courting.”

As Noel expected of them, Kathy and Marge remained after all the guests—except for Chris, who was staying over—had left. While Chris went out to the kitchen to make coffee for them, Noel collapsed on a sofa in the small family sitting room along with Kathy and Marge.

“Well?” he demanded avidly. “Did Fred come across?”

“He said he’d think about it,” Marge said. “Which means no.”

“We tried,” Kathy said ruefully. “He referred to promotion as ‘Madison Avenue garbage.’”

“I can put up some money,” Noel said after brief reflection. “You’ll pay me back later.”

“Can you handle that?” Kathy asked, remembering that his money was doled out annually. “I mean, we don’t know for sure when we can pay you back.”

“We’ll live dangerously.” Noel shrugged. “I’ll bet I could borrow against the trust, if I had to.”

“I’m not sure Fred is going to be happy about this.” But Marge was faintly defiant. Success had become an obsession.

“Look, you’re running the show,” Noel pointed out. “All Fred does is put up the cash, when he feels like it. Start your promotion campaign. Consider me available for your board of directors.”

“Next year this time,” Kathy predicted, her eyes aglow, “we’ll be celebrating the opening of our second shop!”

In the weeks ahead Kathy and Marge found themselves in frequent consultation with Noel. They respected his promotional ideas, used some of them. As they had anticipated, the volume of business jumped. Now, too, they were striving to stress designs by Marge.

On a late evening in February, Frank called from New York to report that Rhoda had given birth to a daughter, to be named Sara Deirdre Collins. The following morning Rhoda phoned from the hospital, deliriously happy.

“The baby’s done what Frank and I couldn’t do. She’s brought the families together. You never saw prouder grandparents.”

“How’s Frank doing with the writing?” Kathy asked. Talking to him, she’d been so excited about the arrival of the baby that she’d forgot to ask.

“He has plenty of time to write,” Rhoda said with rueful humor. “Of course, he’s as upset as hell about the job situation, but he tries to push that aside when he’s writing. He’s sold a couple of articles to some small magazines. And I’ve applied to several private schools up in Westchester County for a fall teaching position. Let’s face it, under current conditions I can forget about teaching in Manhattan.”

They talked for a few minutes about the shop, and then Rhoda had to hang up because the baby had just been brought to her for a feeding. Despite their joy over tiny Sara, Kathy sensed, Rhoda and Frank were troubled about their lack of jobs. What Phil had done to them was unforgivable.

In April, Fred and Cleo came back to San Francisco. They would remain here until they left in June for a three-month tour of the Far East. Fred was amazed by the progress of the shop, though he grumbled when Marge talked about a move to a larger shop just off Union Square. But Marge and Kathy understood that he considered it part of his role to grumble. He had no intention of standing in their way.

“Okay,” he told them shortly before he and Cleo left on their tour. “Go ahead and rent the store. I just hope profits go up enough to handle that crazy rent.”

Marge had already negotiated the lease and made the large security deposit, which left their fluid assets minuscule. But Kathy and she were convinced this was the right move at the right time.

The shop had become an obsession not only for Kathy and Marge, but for Noel as well. He enlisted Chris’s help in providing colorful posters for the windows and the walls of the shop. He developed off-beat promotions that brought in new customers. Kathy took on the often difficult job of seeing one of Marge’s designs through from sketch pad to garment.

Though every waking moment seemed crammed with activity, Kathy was conscious of surges of homesickness. It was almost a year since she had seen her parents and Aunt Sophie, Rhoda and Frank, Bella. Twice she had sent a batch of snapshots of Jesse to Rhoda, with instructions to forward them to Bella. She knew Bella was sure to understand she didn’t dare write, but the snapshots said Jesse and she were fine.

She was euphoric when her mother phoned to say that she and Kathy’s father, along with Aunt Sophie, were considering flying to San Francisco for a week.

“None of us has ever flown,” her mother said with a self-conscious laugh, “and of course, I’m terrified of planes. But Aunt Sophie says to see you and Jesse I can forget about being afraid. So if you think it’s a good idea for us to come, make arrangements for us at an inexpensive hotel and—”

“Mom, no hotel!” Kathy rejected. “You’ll stay here with Jesse and me.”

“We’ll stop off in Chicago for one day.” Her mother was overly casual. “We won’t even stay overnight.”

“Why Chicago?” Kathy was alert to trouble.

“Just in case Phil is keeping track of where we go. Dad said I shouldn’t tell you—you’d worry—but you should know. We’re stopping in Chicago because some creepy private investigator has been asking questions again. Trying to check on our mail, the postman told us. You know Pete—he’s been our postman for years. He told the man off. A couple of things like that happened. But if they see we’re leaving town, and that man comes asking questions, they’ll say we went to stay with a cousin in Chicago.” Unexpectedly she chuckled. “Let Julius Kohn spend a bunch of money looking for you in Chicago.”

Now Kathy counted the days till her family would arrive in San Francisco. It startled her to realize that Jesse had only slight recall of his grandparents and aunt, though she often talked about them with him. It was as though they were living in exile.

She had begun to accept Marge’s assumption that she and Jesse were home free—that Phil and Julius had abandoned searching for her and Jesse. But that wasn’t true. Julius had disliked her from their first meeting. Now he harbored a vendetta against her.

If Phil and Julius knew where she was, they’d try to grab Jesse. That was her constant nightmare.
Jesse would be terrified.
She felt sick at the thought of their taking Jesse, of what would become an ugly custody battle. Phil and Julius would make sure that it was.

Kathy took Jesse with her to the airport to meet the family, driving Noel’s car at his insistence.
“Keep it for the week. Show your folks San Francisco.
” Jesse was alternately excited and shy about the reunion with his grandparents and great-great-aunt. He was impatient as he waited for them to arrive.

At last the flight was announced. Kathy and Jesse stood hand-in-hand as disembarking passengers approached.

“Here they come!” Joy surged through Kathy as she rushed forward, caught up in the miracle of seeing them at last. “Mom—Dad—Aunt Sophie!” Her face was luminous with love.

“I can’t believe this is Jesse,” her mother crooned softly, knowing she must not overwhelm him at this first encounter. “You’re so tall!”

“You must be in kindergarten already,” Aunt Sophie guessed, knowing he was now a first-grader.

“I’m in real school. First grade.” Jesse beamed.

“You still like puzzles?” his grandfather asked and extended a gift-wrapped box.

“Yes!” Jesse grinned. “Thank you.” He hesitated an instant. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

Her family’s week in San Francisco seemed both incredibly short and yet packed with wonderful hours. But Kathy fought back tears when she saw them off at the airport.
When would she see them again?

O
N A LATE AUGUST
day Kathy received a phone call at the shop from Lee.

“Kathy, I suppose I’m being morbid, but there was a news bulletin in the middle of my soap opera.” Lee was addicted to the radio soaps. “When do you expect Fred and Cleo back from their tour?”

“In a few days. What was the bulletin?” Lee’s air of anxiety infected her now. Though Lee didn’t know Fred and Cleo personally, she knew about them, of course.

“A plane crashed somewhere over Ireland a few hours ago. There were some Americans on board. Kathy, they were part of some Far East tour.”

“Fred and Cleo were headed for Ireland the last we heard,” Kathy said, her heart pounding. “But there must be a number of Far East tour groups in operation this time of year. It’s the high season. Let’s don’t jump to wild conclusions.”

“When I pick up Jesse at school, I’ll see if there’s anything in the newspapers,” Lee said. “If there’s anything important, like a passenger list, I’ll buzz you.”

By late afternoon the tragic news had come through. All aboard the flight had been killed. Listed among the passengers were Fred and Cleo. For the first time—at memorial services several days later—Marge and Kathy met Fred and Cleo’s son and daughter. Both were married and totally involved in their own lives.

“How could two such nice people have such cold children?” Marge whispered as they left the chapel. “Are you sure they weren’t adopted?”

Five days later, when Marge was out of the shop, Kathy received a phone call from Fred and Cleo’s son, Earl.

“Tell Miss O’Hara that it’s important she contact me immediately. We have business to discuss,” Earl said, his voice arrogant and disapproving.

“I’ll tell her,” Kathy said. The call was not unexpected, but dreaded.

When Marge returned, Kathy gave her Earl’s message.

“He doesn’t know anything about the women’s wear field,” Kathy tried to comfort her. “He can’t take an active hand in the shop.”

“He and his sister have probably inherited fifty percent of the shop.” Marge was grim. “He can be a real pain in the ass.” She was silent for a moment. “All right, I’ll call him.”

Marge set up an appointment to meet with Earl at the shop that same evening. She insisted that Kathy remain with her. The two of them listened in shock when Earl Palmer told them he expected Marge to buy him out—or he’d go to court to force a sale of merchandise and fixtures so that he could take out the fifty-percent interest that belonged to his sister and himself.

“I’ve gone through my father’s records,” he said tersely. “I know to the penny how much money he put into the shop. I want that back within six weeks, or I go to court.”

Kathy and Marge were distraught. There was no way that Marge could raise that much capital. The move to the new, larger store had drained her liquid funds.

“What about a bank loan?” Kathy asked. Her own assets would not make a dent in what Earl Palmer demanded. “We can show a healthy situation, Marge.”

“I’ll try, but I doubt I’ll be able to raise enough to satisfy him.” Marge was pale and shaken.

“Go to the bank,” Kathy urged. Marge had worked too hard to lose the shop now!

“And pray for a miracle. In six weeks,” Marge reminded.

For the next three days Marge applied for loans at various banks. They recognized the shop was profitable. They offered loans but in far lower amounts than what Earl demanded.

“Talk to him about a lower first payment,” Kathy told her. “Then spread the balance over a period of three years. You can swing that.”

“I’ll call him,” Marge agreed.

Earl Palmer refused to discuss a delayed settlement. He insisted he wanted full payment within six weeks.

“I’m leaving with my wife on a trip to Italy in six weeks. Either you’ve returned my father’s investment in the shop, or I turn the matter over to my attorneys. They’ll proceed with the suit. My father was absurdly naive about his investments,” he said with an air of contempt. “My sister and I are not.”

Noel was outraged when they told him about the demands of Earl Palmer and his sister.

“They’re taking advantage of the loose arrangement you had with Fred! You know damn well Fred wouldn’t want to see you in a spot like this.”

“I wasn’t bright about the deal I signed,” Marge conceded. “But who expected something like this to happen?”

“Look, you can’t borrow enough to satisfy that stupid bastard, but I can raise that kind of loan against my trust fund.” Noel’s face lighted. “Let me take out the loan for you. You set up a new company with you and Kathy as partners. Kathy’s a terrific asset. You pay off the loan over a period of five years.”

“Noel, I can’t let you do that,” Marge protested, but her face was luminescent.

“All right, give me a ten-percent interest in the company and split the other ninety percent between you and Kathy,” Noel said. “I’ve never in my whole life been anything but a dilettante. I think it would be great to work with you two. The three of us make a terrific team.”

“Marge, it’ll work!” Enthusiasm ignited in Kathy. It was not just that she would love being part of the business. Here was security for Jesse. “We’ll go all out on pushing ‘Designs by Marge,’” she pursued. “We’ll promote your designs the way we’ve always been afraid to because of Fred.”

“It’s a tremendous gamble, Noel,” Marge warned.

“We’ll make it,” Noel insisted, his smile brilliant. “Tomorrow I go to my bankers. They know their loan is safe if it’s tied to my trust fund. Let’s go out and celebrate. We’re in business!”

Noel had been right. His bank was happy to extend the loan against his trust fund. Now he worked alongside Marge and Kathy in the shop—each of the three now assigned specific duties. Though the fall season was almost upon them, Kathy prodded Marge into designing a line of sweaters and skirts, and she roamed the city in search of shops that could manufacture for them in record time, raced about the area in search of materials that pleased both herself and Marge. With his keen eye for color and textures, Noel made up the third member of their “board of directors.”

Their Christmas sales soared. Their only complaint was that they ran out of choice items before the peak season.

“We can’t be so scared,” Noel scolded at a Sunday business meeting at Kathy’s apartment. “We have to show more faith in ourselves. We’ll double our orders for spring merchandise,” he said ebulliently. “I’ll bet we could sell the original designs to other stores, too.”