No Crystal Stair (38 page)

“You knew he was white. You didn't care that I was dating him!”

Rob pulled on his ear again, sighed. “No. To tell the truth, I was relieved to see you branching out. I was fed up with your rapping black.”

“And now?” she challenged.

“Dating some dude is one thing. Sleeping with him is another. And sleeping white... well, it's an even bigger complication.”

“Why?”

“Don't look at me like that. I don't give a damn about his color. But there are plenty who do. And even if your relationship is as you say—” He stopped himself, swallowing his own doubts. “I repeat, there are those who do care, including his parents, I'm willing to bet.”

Maggie sat up abruptly, opened her mouth as if to speak, but for a moment, nothing came out. When she did speak, it was almost a whisper. “Okay, Daddy. You've got a point. And you might be right. About... about everything. But you know something?” Her voice broke now and the tears began to fall. “I don't care. It... Christmas... Steve... was so . . . so . . . I didn't know it could be like that.” She mopped her face with the back of her hand. “No matter what, I'm glad it happened.”

Rob felt a lump in his throat and his own eyes filled. He reached down and drew her into his arms. “Honey, don't cry. I'm still in your corner. I'd just hate to see you hurt. But if this is what you think it is—
”and even if it isn't”
—your daddy's right here as always. Just mark my concerns, okay?”

She nodded against his chest. He held her for a long time before he kissed her cheek and resumed his cooking chores.

 

 

Ann Elizabeth was anxious as she drove back from the airport with her parents. Rob loved his daughter, but he wasn't the type to bite his tongue. He'd tell her exactly what he thought, confront her. Ann Elizabeth felt a nervous quiver in the pit of her stomach as she wondered what really was going on between Maggie and this Steve. She hoped Rob hadn't been too harsh. And she hoped the explosion was over before she arrived with her parents.

Everything seemed to be all right—at least for the moment—as she pulled into the driveway and a smiling Rob came out to haul in their bags. Maggie, too, was smiling as she ushered them into the guest room, which was ready for them, the bed neatly made. Good. Maggie had changed the sheets.

“Haven't seen you since the wedding! Prettiest bridesmaid in the place.” Dr. Carter said as he hugged his granddaughter. “Deserted us at Christmas, didn't you? Some handsome swain? Someone special? Come on—tell your old grandpa.”

Ann Elizabeth saw Maggie's mouth tremble and was glad Julia Belle cut it.

“Oh for goodness' sake, Will. Leave the child alone. Don't start badgering her before we even get in the door.”

“Put the kettle on, Maggie,” Ann Elizabeth said. I'm sure they'd like a hot cup of tea. It's turning colder and I think it's going to rain.”

Maggie fixed the tea, then retired to her room to “work on a paper.”

Rain was falling now, and Rob started a fire in the family room where they sat to drink their tea and catch up on family doings.

“You know Cindy's dad's wedding present was a lease on a condo,” Julia Belle said. “Near the hospital. I think they're the only colored in the complex, but they've settled in quite nicely.”

“That's good,” Ann Elizabeth said. “It's so convenient for Bobby.”

“Yes. Of course he's hardly ever there. But one thing I must say for Cindy—she never complains about his long hours at the hospital.”

“Course not.” Dr. Carter chuckled. “She's too busy putting hubby through. He'll be a pediatric surgeon and she'll have that fancy house and all the trappings if it kills her.”

“Oh hush, Will,” Julia Belle said. “You're always knocking Cindy.”

“As the kids say, just telling it like it is. And it's more good than bad. Bobby's got the brains, a surgeon's fingers and that easy manner. Too easy. He needs Cindy's prodding to make him the splendid surgeon he can be.”

He's right,
Ann Elizabeth thought, feeling a little shock of guilt. Not the wife she would have chosen, but probably the best wife for him. Anyway, you certainly had no say about whom you children chose. She hardly knew this Steve person Maggie was so wild about. Or where the affair was headed.

She had no more control over Maggie than her mother had over her when she went happily off to a wider and different world with Rob.

Happily? Oh Yes!

 

 

In a penthouse apartment high about San Francisco Bay, Steven Pearson faced his father.

“Marry her?” James Pearson nearly chocked. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I thought you liked Maggie.”

“What the hell does that got to do with anything? Okay. I was impressed. She's classy. Got a lot on the ball. Pretty, too. Good figure. I'll bet she's a damn good lay, But—”

Steve took a step toward his father. “Let's get this straight. Maggie's no lay. She's—

“All right, all right. Simmer down!” The older man threw up his hands. “I didn't mean it like that.”

Probably didn't, Steve thought. Just his way of assessing women. “Look, Dad, you've got to understand. Maggie is special. I've never felt this way about any other woman.” So excited and yet so at peace.

“Fine. I do understand. And I'm not objecting to the relationship. Just to ... Good God, son, you can't marry her!”

“I can. And I will—if she'll have me,” Steve said, suddenly remembering Maggie's reluctance, her insistence on secrecy.

“If she'll have you!” James Pearson snorted. “You're Stephen Elliott Pearson, heir to two considerable fortunes, and she's just ... Oh for Christ's sake, you're from two different worlds. Your lifestyle and hers are miles apart.”

“I kinda like her style,” Steve said musingly. For a moment he was back in Monterey, decorating a Christmas tree. His mother always had a professional decorator do that. “Do you know, we went to church on Christmas Eve—a quaint little church just before you turn off for the drive. I hardly noticed it before and—”

“Come off it, Steve! Let's be realistic. She's a black woman. A marriage between you would never work.”

“Why not?”

“Damn it, come out of the ocean and face the real world. What about children? Have you thought about that?”

“Sure. I'd like at least two, maybe three.”

“Good God!” Pearson shook his head in disgust. “You don't live in this world by yourself, you know. What would your friends say?”

“I don't give a damn.”

“Well, you better give a damn about me. I'm not letting you mess up your life. Forget this marriage. I won't have it.”

Steve's gaze was steady. “I'm not asking your permission, Dad.”

“Oh?” James Reginald Pearson, of Pearson Associates, was not accustomed to being thwarted. His face turned crimson. “I'm warning you. If you persist in this course, you'll not get one red cent from me.”

“Keep it. I don't need it.”

“You needn't look so smug. You won't get the Elliot fortune until you're thirty. And not then, if you mother can break the trust. She won't like this union any more than I.”

“I'm twenty-five, Dad, old enough to make my own decisions. Anyway...” Steve shook his head. “You really don't understand, do you? This isn't about money. I think I can earn whatever I need. But I don't think I could live without Maggie.” He picked up his jacket.

His father grabbed his arm. “Wait, son. Promise me you won't do anything in haste. We'll talk about this later. We're not through.”

“We're through on this matter. You can be sure of that,” Steve said, and departed. He was anxious to get away from his father and to a phone. He wanted to catch Maggie before she left Sacramento.

 

 

Maggie was just about to leave when her mother called her to the phone.

“Oh, Steve!” Just hearing his voice seemed to make everything right.

“Maggie, we need to talk.”

“Sure.”Was he having doubts? Her heart sank.

“When are you getting back?”

“I'm leaving now. Have to get there for a meeting.”The black students were planning another rally, and she wanted to be part of it. Their destruction of the bookstore still rankled.

“Okay. Where will you be and what time is it over? I'll meet you there.”

“No!” She almost dropped the phone. “Not there.”

“Maggie, it's time we went public.”

His words sang in her heart—like a promise. Still... “I don't think that's wise, Steve.”

“Don't you fight me, too.” He sounded tired.

Instinctively she knew. He must have had a row with one or both of his parents. About her. And he had chosen. Her. Elation
soared. Plummeted. She didn't want him to have to choose. Didn't want him estranged from his parents.

“Maggie, are you there? Where's the meeting?”

She told him, but quickly added, “We should be through about five. I'll phone you when—”

“I'll be there at five,” he said, and hung up.

She worried all the way to the campus. She worried more when she got to the meeting and found the place jammed, standing room only.

“What's going on?” she whispered, pushing in to share Dena's seat.

Dena shrugged. “Ted invited people from the community. He says if they're gonna participate in the rallies, they should know beforehand what's going on.”

Maybe. Or maybe Ted wanted a bigger crowd to act out his agenda. Ted had some crazy ideas. With his hate rhetoric and this irrational crowd, anything could happen.

She didn't like it. She was even more apprehensive when she saw that Ken and some of his crowd were there. Ken, in black leather as always, was leaning against a wall, arms folded, expression tense.

Steve had picked a heck of a time to go public. Maybe she should get out of here now, head him off.

Oh, she was being ridiculous. Nobody was going to do anything physical. And if she got a lot of flack about him so be it.

Besides, she'd wanted to make this meeting for a special purpose. She had some ideas to present and maybe this was a good time to present them. She kept her seat.

Ted's rhetoric had its usual fervor, and the audience, as always was swayed. Maggie, waiting for an opportune time to make her suggestions, listened politely to Ted's complaints about the status quo, the evils of complacency and “how to get the honky's attention.” Everybody was clapping and cheering Ted on before she realized that his target was the library.

The library. Vandalize the library! She had a horrible flashback of the library, valuable books scattered and torn, records forever lost.

“No!” Before she knew it, she was on her feet.

“No!” she cried. “No! You can't do this.” So loud was her cry, so impassioned her plea, that the room grew quiet. Everybody was staring at her.

She had their attention. “I thought our mission was to make things better, not worse. To build up, not destroy. And certainly not a library, which contains the history of our past, the nucleus of—”

“Honky history!” Sue broke in, trying to shout her down. “Shut up, Maggie! You sound like a freaking honky. Fuck the honky history, the honky books—”

“You shut up!” Maggie, furious, shouted louder. “You don't even know what's in those books. You've never looked.” The room rocked with laughter and Sue seemed mad enough to spit. But Maggie didn't care. This was a good time to talk about her ideas. “You want to destroy books,” she said, “when others are starving for them.” She told about her tutoring sessions, how she'd found that most of the kids had no reading material at home—not even a newspaper. She said if they collected used books, maybe they could raise funds to buy children's books and distribute them. She talked on, carried away by enthusiasm and the feeling that her audience was receptive.

Until Ted broke in. “Bullshit! We been begging and groveling for years. The honkies owe us.”

“And it's time to collect!” Sue stood up, urging on the raucous response.

“Right on!” several voices chorused.

Maggie's heart sank.

“Cut the crap!” The voice boomed loud and threatening. The room was suddenly quiet. Everybody stared at Ken. “The sister's got a point. Let's hear it.”

Only Sue was brave enough or mad enough to challenge him. “Shit, Ken! She's one of them Toms. Think they got it made. Think they're white. She don't know what the fuck's happening down in—”

“She knows what's happening in the breakfast line. She's always there.” His eyes focused on Sue. “More'n I can say for some.” He looked at Maggie. “Go ahead sister.”

“Well—” Maggie bit her lip, her eyes on Ken as if she was appealing to him alone “—that's it, mostly. Only I thought we could maybe throw in some learning games like Scrabble or Monopoly. And we could teach the kids to tune into educational channels. Everybody's got a television, even if they don't have books.” Understanding chuckles reverberated, and the atmosphere changed. To her relief quiet talk and good sense prevailed. “The games could be prizes for attendance at the tutoring sessions and might encourage more participation.”

There was faint applause as she took her seat.

Dena moved that Maggie's proposal be accepted and Maggie head the committee for the project. The motion carried—just barely. Maggie felt an eerie elation. Had she turned things around? At least the library trashing was on hold. She could hardly wait to tell Steve.

Steve! She glanced at her watch. Almost five. She tried to push through the departing crowd, but was stopped by people eager to discuss her project. The room was almost empty when she found herself hemmed in by those on the other side.