No Crystal Stair (37 page)

“It's your bid, Ann Elizabeth.”

“Oh. What did you say? A club?” She studied her cards. “One no trump.” Anyway, she didn't care what color he was. Or did she? She thought of Michael James—such a nice young man. If only ...

An oft-repeated phrase surfaced in her mind: White men have no respect for black women. A white man was taking her nineteen-year-old daughter off and... Oh, God! She and Maggie had talked about sex, condoms, birth control. They'd laughed and agreed the best prevention was abstinence. But now... oh, dear, things were different now.

More important for the moment—what would she tell Rob? “Christmas in Monterey,” she said, “with friends. Lots of friends.”

She could lie if Maggie couldn't.

 

 

Maggie had been to Monterey several times with her parents. They'd driven along Carmel's famous seventeen-mile drive, marveling at the spectacular view of sea, sand and rocks. She had wondered about the people who lived in those grand houses that seemed to melt into the cliffs—remote, isolated, barely visible through the eucalyptus trees that surrounded them. She should have been surprised when Steve turned into a circular drive leading to one of those houses. But he was such a regular
down-to-earth guy she'd forgotten he was more privileged than most.

“This is your father's ‘little place'? she asked.

He nodded, apparently not noticing the sarcasm. He touched the remote control and drove into an underground four-car garage.

“All ours for now,” he said as he led her up the steps into the house. “Dad's housekeeper is on vacation. Come on, let me show you where everything is.”

It was so well designed that it seemed smaller than it really was. These bedrooms, each with its own bath, a well-equipped kitchen, dining and living rooms.

“You can have any room you want, but I thought you might like this,” he said, leading her into what was obviously the master bedroom. Spacious, with so many built-ins—window seats, cupboards, bookcases—that the only furniture needed was the big bed and the small sofas on either side of the stone fireplace. Everything—the carpet, the walls, sheer curtains and spread—was a pale green, all beautifully matched. “Like it?” he asked.

She nodded. The room seemed to invite her.

He pulled her to him, kissed her on the nose. “It gets a little cool at night. You'd be cozy here with a good fire. And me?”

An invitation. No demands. No urging. “I'll think about it,” she said. “After I've checked out the other rooms. Or maybe I'll take this and you can have one of the others.”

He chuckled. “Your choice, my sweet. Let's look in the fridge first. Dad told Mrs. Mack to leave it stocked.”

It was. They made sandwiches, heated the cream of mushroom soup and opened a bottle of wine. They took their meal to the round coffee table in the sunken living room and ate before a roaring fire.

Maggie kicked off her shoes and sat crossed-legged on the floor. She ran a hand over the thick pale-green carpet. Somebody
sure likes that cool serene shade. His father or some impersonal decorator?

“Does you father spend a lot of time here?” she asked.

“Hardly,” He added another log to the fire and dusted this hands. “Maybe a day or two, three or four times a year. Sometimes a week or so.”

She looked around. “And all this just sits and waits?”

He laughed. “With the able assistance of Mrs. Mack.” He refilled their wine glasses and sat beside her.

She took a sip of wine, pondering. “Nobody really lives here. Or even comes very often. That's a shame. It's so lovely.”

“And lonely.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. It's a great place to dump a kid when one parent's touring Europe and the other's running to meetings or chasing his latest lady.”

“Oh.” So that was how it had been Her heart ached for a poor little rich kid shut away in this grand isolated house. “There must have been other kids,” she said. In those other isolated houses.

“Yeah. I'd see them on the beach. They had their own friends. I never seemed to fit in.”

“Like my cousins in Atlanta,” She said. “I never fit in with them, either.”

He smiled at her. “So you were a misfit, too? Anyway, I found the fish more interesting.”

“Books were my escape,” she said, and added reflectively, “Places aren't lonely. People are.”

“Yes, until they find the right person to be with.” He set both their glasses on the table and took her in his arms. “I'm not lonely now.”

Neither was she. That night, lying in the wide bed in the pale-green room, lit by the flickering fire, with the sound of the
ocean pounding against the rocks, she responded to his gentle caresses with a passion she'd hadn't know she possessed. Cried out his name and reveled in the wonder of fulfillment.

Steve awoke the next morning feeling a rush of tenderness for the girl beside him. He knew it had been the first time for her. Yet she'd never hesitated, had responded with an ardor that touched his heart. He felt her stir against his chest, stretch, and open those big brown eyes to look at him.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello.”

“Lonely?”

“No. Oh, no!” The glow in her eyes, the feel of her hand on his cheek, told him much more.

He kissed the palm of that hand, brushed his lips against hers, against the lobe of her ear, and whispered, “I'm glad you're spending Christmas with me and I . . . What's the matter, sweetheart?”

Did the guilt show on her face? Christmas was family time. Grandpa would miss her.

But this... Steve... last night. She wouldn't have missed it for the world. She wanted to make Steve as happy as he made her. “A Christmas tree!” she said, kissing him. “I was thinking we don't have a Christmas tree.”

They went into town and brought a small tree that filled the house with the pungent odor of pine. They bought tiny white lights, golden bells and ornaments, two tiny white birds and an angel for the top. They decorated the tree and placed their presents under it.

“Is there a church around here that has candlelight service?” she asked, wondering why it was so important to retain the family traditions.

They found one. The church was small but filled to capacity and rich with the Christmas spirit. They sang the traditional hymns, lit their individual candles and held them up like stars
in the darkened church “as your light, you love, shines in the darkened world,” said the minister. It was all very moving, she thought as they walked out with the smiling throng, each carrying a little scroll tied with a red ribbon—their own personal messages. Maggie's read, “Whatsoever things are good, think on these things.”

They opened their gifts on Christmas morning. For him a sweater and two books, one a treatise by a marine biologist that she knew would fascinate him. The other...

“Edna St. Vincent Millay?” he asked.

“I want to introduce you,” Maggie said. Though he was as avid a reader as she, he never read poetry.

For her, a gold charm bracelet with a tiny gold fish dangling from it. Which she loved. And several boxes containing all the gear she'd need for scuba diving. Which scared her.

“I don't even swim very well, and never underwater! I couldn't.”

“You have to. I want to introduce you to my fish. Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'll teach you.”

He did teach her. A few times in the swimming pool first, “so you'll get used to the face mask and breathing from the oxygen tank.” He was patient and gentle as he strapped the tank to her back and explained everything. “Trust me,” he said. And she did trust him as she went under.

It was a wonderful sensation. Everything in slow motion. She felt a keen awareness of touch, of breathing. She could hear the bubbles each time she exhaled. She gained confidence. This was fun.

“Ready for the ocean?” Steve asked a few days later.

“Yes!” Ready and eager, even though it meant getting used to wearing a wet suit.

“We'll go out to the point,” Steve said.

Point Lobos. The wind-whipped cypress and pine trees bending forever landward, the tall rugged cliffs with crevices,
rocks and hidden coves forever descending into the sea, the endless churning ocean stretching toward a distant sky. There were a few people about, snorkeling or walking along the cliff, a few birds fluttering near the edge of the water, sea otters sunning themselves. And yet ... “It seems so untouched,” she said to Steve, marveling.

“Not quite untouched, he said, and told her how a thriving abalone business had stripped the spot of its abalone and how its beaches had once been the site of a processing plant for whales brought in from the ocean ”Thank God it was saved from a would-be developer by a farsighted millionaire who bought the land and donated it to the state.”

“I'm glad,” she said as she followed him down to one of the hidden coves. To destroy such natural beauty would be sacrilegious.

Why wasn't she more frightened? She wondered as Steve strapped the tank to her back, adjusted her face mask, helped her slip on the fins. Because Steve was there beside her, his eyes made her excited and eager to explore. She felt safe with him holding her hand as they waded out into the surf, going deeper and deeper. There was a moment of panic when she went under and the water closed around her, but Steve was with her, eyes smiling, fingers raised in an okay sign.

It
was
okay. Her wet suit was comfortable and surprisingly warm in the cold ocean. A wonderful sensation of freedom possessed her and her breathing became rhythmic and hypnotic as she gazed about at a strange new world, mysterious and intriguing. A school of fish, a shimmery stream of liquid silver in their togetherness. Splashes of color—purple and orange starfish, and vibrant vegetation. One plant, with tendrils of a greenish iridescent color, like baby fingers all in a circle, seemed to draw her. When she reached out to touch it, it closed in on itself.

Amazing!

She was reluctant to go when Steve signaled that it was time to surface.

Roy and his girlfriend came down for a couple of days. The all went scuba diving, made a fire and had a picnic on the beach. She enjoyed their company, but was glad when they left and she was alone again with Steve.

Alone together. Days walking on the beach, exploring the ocean. At night they spent long hours lounging by the fire. Talking. He told her about the mysteries of the sea and the wonders of nature. “The plant that closed when you touched it was an anemone. Do you know we can tell time by them? Their petals open at different times, the red ones at two, the blue ones at four and so on.” She told him about her tutoring sessions, about Ricky and Marylee. They read aloud from the book of poetry she'd given him.

It was as if their hearts were stretching, reaching into each other's worlds.

A
nn Elizabeth paced the floor, glancing out at the front window now and then. Waiting for Maggie.
We're gonna have a come–to–Jesus meeting!

Taking off like that with some man we don't even know.

That one time he was here for Thanksgiving—why didn't I ask about him, his parents, his background?

Oh, no, not me! I'm not like my mother who always gave my friends the third degree. Who's you mother, father, who are you grandparents, and what does you father do? She had poor Sadie Clayton squirming, and if it hadn't been for Dad...

My daughter's away with some man I don't know anything about! Who he is, how he feels about her—
nothing!

Christmas was a nightmare. Two whole weeks of pretending I was happy when I was worried sick!

Worried about Maggie. Some of those kids are into heavy drinking and drugs and I don't know what else. Maggie's a sensible girl, but... what was it Mother always said?
Lie down with dogs and you'll get fleas.

Oh, Maggie! Maggie!

And I lied to Rob. “These young people... it's only natural that Maggie wants to be with her friends.”

I'm not sure he believed me. I saw that thoughtful forbidding look even before he asked, “What friends?”

Ann Elizabeth hadn't found it easy to lie and pretend, when her insides were topsy-turvy with apprehension.

And now... she and Rob were back from Atlanta, and Maggie had phoned last night, sounding casual and relaxed. Lighthearted. “Wonderful Christmas, Mom! I'll tell you all about it when I get home. Tomorrow. I've got a couple of days before school starts again.”

Ann Elizabeth had tried to seem just as lighthearted. “Great honey. We're looking forward to hearing about it,” was all she'd said, because Rob had been sitting right there looking at her. Now she glanced at the clock, hoping Rob would still be on the golf course when Maggie got in. And before she had to go to the airport to pick up her parents, who were following them to Sacramento.

“The weather's milder there, and Will's patients won't be able to call him,” her mother had said. “They don't seem to know that he needs to rest.”

Life's become a juggling act, Ann Elizabeth thought. I've got to give Maggie hell, while at the same time shield my parents from Maggie's problem, and Maggie from Rob's wrath.

If I possibly can!

But just wait until I get hold of her! How could she be so inconsiderate! So foolish! So stupid! Oh, here she is!

Maggie jumped out of her car and ran into the house, dragging her duffel bag, just as usual. “Oh, Mom! It was wonderful!” She dropped her bag and threw her arms around her mother, swinging her round and round.

Ann Elizabeth, trying to catch her breath, gasped. “Maggie, wait! We need to talk. Do you know how
worried
I've been? And your father—”

“I told you where I was going. There was no need to worry.”

“Oh, sure. No need to worry. My daughter's just gone off I don't know where, probably sleeping with this guy—”

“Don't, Mom!” Maggie put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. “I've just spent the happiest two weeks of my life and I won't let you spoil it.”

Oh, Maggie. Maggie, Ann Elizabeth felt a surge of tenderness for her daughter. For her trusting innocence, her joy. She didn't want to spoil it, but she had to make her face facts. “Honey, you don't know... men. Maybe it was that way for you. But for him, it might have been just another weekend, another—”

Maggie shook her head. “Steve isn't like that.”

“You don't now—” She broke off. “Maggie, listen to me—”

“No. You listen.” Maggie took her and drew her to the sofa. “Sit down and let me tell you how it is. This wasn't a spur-of the-moment thing. Steve and I have been dating for over two months now and—”

“Two months! You think you can know everything about a person in two months?”

“You fell in love with Dad the first night you met him, didn't you?”

Love? Ann Elizabeth, stunned into silence, stared at her daughter.

She couldn't believe this was her solemn intense Maggie. Not deep in a book. Not ranting about the plight of blacks or the injustices of the world. Not even quietly laughing and flirting as she had in Atlanta—but she'd been unmoved and uninvolved then, Ann Elizabeth realized. She was involved now. Radiantly alive, bursting with the kind of happiness that comes once in a lifetime—if you're lucky.

Ann Elizabeth, seeing the stars in her daughter's eyes, hearing the joy in her voice, couldn't bring herself to diminish that happiness. But her heart ached with fear.

Maybe, if she'd stopped her from going...

As if she could have! Maggie had already been on her way when she called.

She followed Maggie into her room and watched her pull out the clothes she'd brought home to wash. “It's so unbelievable,
Mom!” Maggie took out a pair of jeans and sand flew every where as she shook them.

“Maggie you shouldn't...!”Well, no use stopping her now. She'd get out the vacuum cleaner and—

“When you look at the ocean... Oh, you know, there are fish of course, but I'd always somehow thought that, underneath all that water, everything else was dead. But it's not. It's so alive! Even the plants. And so much color. You just can't imagine! Steve kept saying the sea was murky and I couldn't see like I would if I was in a place like Bermuda or Hawaii. Steve says the waters there are so clear that...” Ann Elizabeth listened to her daughter's chatter, punctuated with “Steve says,” Steve. He was the joy. Like Rob had been for her that very first week. As if it were yesterday, she remembered him saying.
You are a princess. You live in a grand castle, surrounded by a high wall.
She had responded with the same teasing rapport,
I hope a prince can rescue me.
She had touched the wings on his shoulder. “I thought he came swooping from the clouds...”

But Maggie didn't know the game. Steve was her first real boyfriend. And things were too deep, too soon. Too complicated. Dear God, things were so different now. When she was nineteen, no single couple would have dared go blithely off together for a weekend. Certainly no black-white couple. She thought of her mother's comment?
We've always been in each other's beds.
True. But at nineteen I was protected by both segregation and convention. And I'm not equipped to deal with
now
—all this sexual freedom and integration and a daughter with her head in the clouds. Dear Lord, how much does Steve mean to her?

More important, what does she mean to him?

“You just can't imagine the beauty! Steve says it's even more incredible down deeper, but he only let me go down fifty feet. He—”

“Fifty feet!” Ann Elizabeth exclaimed, grappling with a new fear. Underneath the surface of the ocean! “Weren't you scared?”

“With Steve right there? Oh, Mom, he's so protective.” Maggie paused, gathering up her laundry. “Gentle and caring,” she whispered, as if she spoke to herself.

The words echoed in Ann Elizabeth's heart. Like Rob, that first night in Tuskegee.

But I was married! And Maggie ...

No, Maggie wouldn't be scared. Solemn and intense, yes, but never scared. Even when she was twelve. What had she said of Anna Karenina? She was so silly.
Why didn't she just go on and be happy, instead of practically going crazy because those society ladies wouldn't speak to her?
No. Maggie would plunge right in. Into a swirling ocean or—against convention—into bed with a man she cared about. No matter that they weren't married or that he was white. Not caring what anybody said.

Only... she did care. I'm tired of sneaking around. She cared what her peers, her black radical friends, thought, didn't she? And now... What was going to happen now?

“Mom, can I wash this with the other things?' Maggie held up a bright red sweatshirt.

“Set the dial on cold water, and I think it'll be okay,” she replied automatically, her mind focusing on how to say what she needed to say. But there wasn't time now. She glanced at the clock on Maggie's bedside table. Ten-forty-five. Rob would be back from his golf game any minute.

“I'm glad you came home this morning, Maggie. You grandparents are arriving today.”

“Grandma and Grandpa? Great!” Maggie paused in the doorway with her bundle of clothes, “When?”

“Plane's due in at noon. So, as soon as you get those clothes in the washing machine, come back here and vacuum up all this sand. And change the sheets in the guest room for me, will you?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“And Maggie?” Maggie turned, waiting. “Listen, there are some things...”No, she couldn't rush it. “We'll have to talk, but later. I'd better got the vegetables ready now.” She knew she'd have to be careful of what she said to Maggie and how she said it. This was the first time she'd seen her serious daughter so full of joy. She didn't want to break her heart with warnings and dire predictions. She wondered at herself. How ironic that she should be more concerned about a daughter's broken heart than her lost virginity.

Rob came home just as she was preparing to leave for the airport. “You're picking up the folks? I'll get the meat on the spit. Dinner about four, huh?”

She nodded and was picking up her purse and car keys when Maggie, having thrust her clothes into the dryer, burst into the kitchen.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi. So the prodigal has returned.” Rob put down the rod that was to hold the pork loin and glanced over his shoulder. “How was Monterey?”

“Great.”

“And who were those friends you deserted us for?”

Ann Elizabeth paused, holding her breath.

“Friends?” Maggie's apprehensive glance at her mother indicated that she, too, was worried about Rob's reaction. But, being Maggie, she plunged right in. “Just Steve. Most of the time. He ... we stayed at his father's house in Monterey.”

Rob abandoned his task and turned to face Maggie. “Steve? That guy you brought here at Thanksgiving?”

Maggie nodded.

“Alone? Just the two of you?”

Again she nodded.

Rob's nostrils flared. “You needn't be so damn blase. I don't like this one goddamn bit and you know it!” He looked at Ann Elizabeth. “You knew about this.” A statement, not a question.

She flinched, but couldn't help reaching out a hand in a silent plea.
Don't say things that will hurt her.

“No! Mom didn't know.”

“Don't give me that! You mother can't lie any better than you can. She's been a zombie this whole Christmas.”

“Okay. Mom knew I was gone, but she didn't know I was going until I'd already left. And Dad, it isn't like you think. It's—”

“You don't know what I think. Maybe you don't give a damn. But I'm sure as hell gonna tell you.” He glanced at the clock, then at Ann Elizabeth. “Hadn't you better go?”

“Yes.” Still she hesitated, torn. Not wanting to keep her parents waiting, wanting to remain as a buffer. She looked at the two who faced each other. Maggie, frail and small, her eyes on her father. Rob, tall and stiff, waiting for Ann Elizabeth to leave.

This was out of her hands. She went out to her car, reminding herself that no matter how the sparks flew between them, those two loved each other. Hoping that things would simmer down a bit by the time she returned with her parents. She particularly didn't want her father upset. Not with his heart condition.

In the kitchen Rob gazed down at his daughter, reminding himself that she was no longer a child. He should have been prepared for this. But was any father ever prepared? He took a deep breath. “Who else knows about this?”

“Roy and Kate, friends of Steve's. They came to visit during my stay. And Mom. I called her as I was leaving Berkeley and I really didn't give her a chance to say no. Because I was afraid she would and I wanted so much to go. And I'm glad.” She said it all in one breath and slumped into a chair, eyes downcast.

Rob read it:
I've fessed up. There's no more to say.
The hell there wasn't! He walked over to stand before her, his arms folded. “As usual I'm the last to know. And make no mistake. I'll be the first if there's a disaster or if a rescue is required. Maggie?” He waited, silent until she looked up. “I've been on your side and
have supported you all your life. Why would you not talk to me about boy-girl, man-woman things?”

Her eyes widened, but a slight shrug was the only answer.

“We've talked about everything else, haven't we?”

She nodded, her gaze hypnotic.

“This sex thing—” he pulled on his ear, took a deep breath “—it's not something you enter into lightly. You not only compromise yourself, but... well, I needn't name the risks. And if the guy is just out for a piece of ass, you're nothing but another notch on his dick.”

“Dad!” The stricken cry, the tears in her eyes, nearly broke his heart. She'd never heard such gutter talk from him. But he had meant to shock her. She needed to know what she might be in for.

Rob almost backed away when she raised her head, defiance showing through the tears. “It isn't... our relationship isn't like that.”

Rob mimicked. “Our relationship isn't like that. How the hell do you know?”

“I know.” Her gaze was steady, confident. “I know Steve, and I know me.”

“Did he ask you to marry him?”

She looked surprised. “No, but—”

“Hell, no!”

She stood her ground. “Because we didn't even think or talk about that. We talked about... other things.”

“I bet.” His mouth twisted. “There's something else. He's a white boy, you know, and even if—”