“Who says I could be president of ARMALCO?”
“My husband did—Mr. Garrett.”
“He told you? That I am fit to be president of—?”
“Do I have to shout? Are you deaf? He did nothing but talk about how smart you were and how he had ‘plans for you’ and—”
“I have to think about it.”
“There’s one condition, though.”
Sam looked at me. I said: “No conditions, Hortense. If I’m to be president of ARMALCO and tell you what you think, I’ll make the conditions, not you.”
“I’ll make them! I’ll make them.”
“We’re back to Teddy Rodriguez,” growled Sam, in the hall as we walked to the elevator.”
“You think she’s the condition?”
“You’re to knuckle under after accepting the presidency of ARMALCO and refuse to pay that million. It’ll be her way of handling Teddy—and of handling you.”
“I don’t hold still too well for handling.”
“For your million and that job, you might.”
28
A FEW DAYS LATER I got a call at the apartment from Mrs. Mendenhall, telling me: “We bailed out of the hospital. We thought, if we paid for both beds in the room or at least were willing to pay, she could have it to herself, but for some reasons that was impossible, and when they moved another woman in, we decided we’d better get out. So we did. And here we are back in Watergate.”
“I’ll be in—that is, if I’m invited.”
“But, Lloyd, of course.”
I drove down, parked in the basement, and went up. Letting me in, making knicks, was a girl who looked familiar! I realized it was Karen, the one who let me in on my first call to Mr. Garrett in Wilmington. Mrs. Mendenhall was there, as was a girl named Winifred whom I’d never seen but who turned out to be Hortense’s Wilmington secretary. And the baby was there with a nurse, a different one from the one who’d been with Hortense, in the hospital. She sat next to the baby’s crib. Next to it was a small table with nursing bottles on it and next to that was a refrigerator. And, of course, Hortense was there. She didn’t look up when I went in, but instead lay on a lounge chair while everyone sat around watching her, not speaking. She didn’t speak or respond in any way when I gave her a pat. No one asked me to sit, but I sat anyway—and waited. Nothing happened. Sam Dent came in. After she ignored him, he tiptoed to a place near me and sat down. Still, nothing happened. They all just sat there, and so did she. Suddenly I began getting annoyed. I got up, planted myself in front of her, and said: “It’s customary among people with manners for the hostess to speak, to make some kind of gracious remark, so people can relax, talk, and act natural.”
“Are you instructing me in manners?”
“I’m batting you one in the jaw if you don’t say something.”
“Like what, for instance?”
“ ‘Nice weather we’re having,’ will do.”
“Do? For whom?”
“Spit it out, goddamn it, or—”
I stepped in and meant to let her have it whether she was weak or not, whether or not Sam tried to stop me—which he seemed about to do as he jumped up and stepped in between. But she whimpered: “Please, please, please!”
“That’ll do,” I heard myself growl. “I wouldn’t quite call it friendly, but at least we could call it speech—of a human kind.”
“Sam! You’re not going to let him—”
“I’m stronger than Sam. Remember my thick neck.”
“Oh, they called you the Brisket, didn’t they?” Mrs. Mendenhall said. “Someone was telling me. Horty was telling me. It was you, Horty, wasn’t it?”
“Mother, that’ll do.”
For some moments, then, conversation languished. Then Sam Dent cleared his throat and, perhaps to change the subject, got to what he had come about: the naming of cabin cruisers, at the yards up by the Delaware Water Gap. “If you have any ideas about it, Hortense,” he said, “I’d certainly be glad to—”
But she exploded once more; “You’re trying to kill me, that’s what! And you may very well succeed.”
“Hortense, nobody’s trying to do anything but what has to be done by law. Now if you want someone else to take over, if you’ll give him power of attorney—”
“I don’t want anything but peace!”
“Then O.K., but first—”
She screamed at him again, not words, just screams, and I could see him fighting back whatever it was that wanted out of his mouth. He was usually one of the friendliest guys in the world. But now he seemed to have reached the point where he’d had about all he could take. What he might have said, she didn’t hear because just then the phone rang and Winifred went to answer it. She came back, leaned over Hortense, and said something. Then Hortense turned to me. “I asked Miss Rodriguez to call,” she said, “on a business matter we have, but she couldn’t make it today. May I impose on you, then? Would tomorrow be all right?”
“No imposition,” I answered. “Tomorrow’s fine.”
“Around two?”
She motioned the girl who trotted off, then came back, telling Hortense: “She says that will be fine.”
I got home around five, and at once tried to call Teddy. I found out from Miss Nettie that she’d been calling me, on my own phone and through the switchboard. When at last I got hold of her, she piled right in, asking me what was up, what Hortense wanted. I told her I didn’t know, but it might be about what Garrett would have put in his will if he’d lived long enough to make one. “Not to string it out,” I said, “you fix up your face so it’s pretty, especially how it looks with a smile, and be nice to this dame, nice as you know how to be. Because, get this, Teddy, he made notes for a will which Sam Dent was to be guided by in drawing it up. But he did not make a will. Sam never got that far. He was looking over the notes, to know how to draw the will up, when Inga got in the act, and that rang down the curtain. But, it may very well be, and there’s reason to think it is, that she feels she must do what he wanted—what Mr. Garrett wanted, I mean—and that’s what’s on her mind with this invitation to you. It may be she means to act snotty and tell you she’s sorry she can’t, or won’t, or is not going to pay you the money. But knowing her and how she feels about things, I would say it’s just the opposite. She means to pay over what he wanted you to have so she can have peace of mind. But for some reason she wants to talk or say something to you or whatever. She’s been awfully ill, and ill people do strange things. But from where you sit, a grin on your face may mean the difference between cutting in on the sugar and not cutting in on it. Do you hear what I say, Teddy?”
“Yes, Dr. Palmer, of course.”
“What do you say?”
“I say O.K.”
“There’s to be no saucy talk. Do you promise?”
“Before I say, you say. How much is in it for me?”
“Plenty. He was no piker, Teddy.”
“You mean like six-figure dough?”
“At least that.”
“Then I won’t blow it. Wild horses couldn’t make me.
“Then, O.K. Love you.”
“Likewise. Double.”
The next day when I arrived, a full house was already there—Sam, the secretary Winifred, the nurse with no name, the baby, and Mrs. Mendenhall. And Hortense—still stretched out in her chair and still looking pale, wan, and tragic. I bowed, then took a chair at one side and waited. We all waited, saying nothing. But this time, instead of making a row, I sat there, going along. I suppose a half-hour went by before the buzzer sounded, and Winifred took it. “Send her up,” she said and in a moment went out in the hall. Then Teddy made her entrance, and it was an entrance.
She had on the mink coat, with beige trousers showing below it, a dark crimson band on her hair, and crimson shoes. With her dark hair and black eyes, she was very Spanish-looking, which seems to include a dangerous cut to the jib. I mean, I thought of all the dancers I had ever heard of, that by the look in their ey
e would just as soon knife you as kiss you. She was nice as pie to Hortense, however, making a little curtsey to her and saying: “So nice to see you again,” and then turning with a smile to the others, seeming to know them all except for the nurse. Hortense asked her to sit down, then began: “Miss Rodriguez, my husband, before he died, wrote up notes for his will, which he didn’t live to sign. But naturally, I feel I should carry out his wishes whether he made legal provision or not—which is why I asked you to come. It was his intention, Miss Rodriguez, to leave you a million dollars.”
“Hey! He did things big, didn’t he?”
“However, I feel I must make a condition.”
“What?”
“The day of the press conference, Miss Rodriguez, I missed the performance you gave, so before handing over this check that I’ve drawn for you”—she got an envelope from her bag and flipped it around in her hand—“I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to repeat it for me here now today?”
Teddy stood there, swallowed two or three times, and at last drew a long breath. “Mrs. Garrett,” she half-whispered, “how’d you like to go to hell?”
“Teddy!” I said. “What about those wild horses!”
“Very well, I’ll forget the check.”
Hortense dropped it back in her bag. “Goddamn it,” I roared at Teddy, “take it back, apologize! So she tried to pee on you. So you knew she was going to, but for one million bucks you can buy enough Listerine to deodorize all the pee ever peed, and if you’ve got any brains, you’ll apologize. Now!”
“Then, Mrs. Garrett, I take it back; I’m sorry.”
“Very well. This exhibition can proceed.”
“It began with a walkover. It’s kind of like a bow.”
“A very nice start, I would say.”
Teddy took off her coat and pitched it on a chair. Then she put her hands on the floor, lifted one leg behind her, let it drop over her head, lifted the other leg, let the first leg touch in front, and while the other leg was flipping down, pushed up with her hands to come standing again. “Very nicely done,” said Hortense. “I applaud.”
She patted her fingertips together, and Teddy went on: “Next off, for the reporters, I did a handstand facing them, on account of one dame said that a earth-shaking thing had not been invented yet, to get my front end where my face was and my hind end where my patches were, in the same shot at the same time. This way—”
She repeated that handstand she had done that other time, and Hortense gravely told her: “Beautifully done. I applaud one more time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Garrett.”
She stood there a moment, then went on: “Then, of course, there were the handstands I did for your husband.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, I knew him quite well, Mrs. Garrett.”
“I didn’t realize you did handstands for him.”
“All the time. The idea was that he get inspired to do unto me that which I hoped for always. It didn’t work out that way, as he was under a thrall, he called it. I still don’t quite know what a thrall is. I think it’s some kind of hex that a woman had on him. At the time I suspected that the Swede was the one who plugged him. I must have been right. Mrs. Garrett, I hope I didn’t upset you?”
“It’s quite all right. Go on.”
“If I did get out of line, I’m sorry—”
“She said go on,” I told her.
“Yeah, I’d do handstands for him and then walk on my hands, past him—always without any clothes on. And as I went by, I’d drop one leg forward and the other leg behind, for the upside-down split, which he liked. This way—but first I’ve got to take off some clothes.”
She started to unbutton her blouse, but Hortense beat her to it. “No!” she exclaimed, in a half-hysterical voice. “I get the idea.”
“Well, I don’t mind, Mrs. Garrett.”
“I do.”
“So,” I said, taking my position in front of Hortense, “you thought it was going to be fun, peeing on Teddy Rodriguez, and then she peed on you—”
“What do you mean, using such language to me?”
“If my language offends you, I apologize. I withdraw pee. She pissed on you, I should say, and that takes care of her. It doesn’t take care of me. I have things to say—”
“You have nothing to say. You may go.”
“I’m going—don’t worry, I’m not enjoying myself any more than you are. But there’s somebody here who concerns me—a beautiful little boy who’s as much mine as yours. That boy I mean to have, and if you don’t surrender him now, I mean to claim him in court. I’m going to have you declared an unfit mother—”
“Dr. Palmer, are you insane?”
“Not that I know of. You don’t want this child. You don’t care about him. You’ve had him a month now, and haven’t even given him a name. That makes you unfit, as I’ll damned convince the court. But to take custody of a child, I have to have a wife who can act as a mother to him. As my wife, I mean to take Teddy—”
“Hey, hey, not so fast!”
That was Teddy who jumped up and said: “I’ve got something to say about that. Nobody’s marrying me as a way of getting a child. I have to be loved for myself alone—”
“You’ll be loved enough; don’t worry.”
“On that basis, I accept.”
“Dr. Palmer,” Hortense said, a vicious look in her eye, “I hope you take me to court. To prove you’re the father of this boy, you’ll have to admit that you blackmailed a woman, that you touched her husband for money, that you seduced his wife, that you lied to him. And just how fit the court will think you, to take custody of a child, even with Teddy’s help, I wouldn’t like to say. Please feel free to sue, if that’s what it’s called. It’ll be your word against mine, and if I deny—as I will—that you are the child’s father, I doubt very much that the court will believe you. A man may think he knows who the child’s father is, but a woman knows she knows.”
“Sometime, if you give your sworn word to the court about something that’s not true, you’ll do a stretch for perjury. That’s one thing a court won’t accept. When I point out that this boy has the same double mole on his throat as I have on mine, any judge on earth will know who’s telling the truth.”
“Get out of here! All of you!”
Everyone shuffled their feet. Nobody moved.
For some time the air was thick. All you could hear was Hortense’s sobs. Then the baby got into the act, with a sudden, furious squall that was tiny and at the same time so piercing it stabbed at your ears. The nurse took a bottle from the table, tried the nipple with her finger, and put it down in the crib against the baby’s mouth. “He’s not hungry,” Teddy said.
“You know if he’s hungry or not?” snarled Hortense.
“Yes, I know. Why don’t you?”
She was very cold. The nurse kept pushing the nipple at the baby’s mouth, but the squawling kept right on. Then she began shaking the crib. Teddy went over, took her by the wrist exactly as she’d taken Hortense the day of the press conference, and began backing her up, just as she’d backed Hortense. Then she flung her into a chair and turned to the baby who was still hooking it, sucking in deep breaths, then stiffening with a jerk and letting go. She picked him up, carried him back to her chair, and sat down—but holding his head with one hand in such way as to support it, and bending her face toward his.
“Little sweetheart,” she crooned at him, “has a mother that’s hipped on dough, the millions she has in the bank, grandmother hipped on booze, and a nurse that thinks he’s a butter churn—when all he wanted was love!” She breathed this in his face, and suddenly the squawling dropped off, to surprised little gasps, one after the other. Then he laughed. If there’s anything so beautiful as the sudden, gurgling laugh of a little child, I wouldn’t know what it is. I sat there with my throat playing me tricks, gulping and gagging and swallowing. I wasn’t looking at Hortense, and didn’t until I heard something, but then I did lo
ok and saw she was doing what I was trying not to do—sobbing, her chin on her chest, the tears pouring down her cheeks. Suddenly she waved her hand in a way that meant only one thing: leave me alone, go. Mrs. Mendenhall tiptoed out, followed by Sam, the nurse, and Winifred. But when Teddy got up, Hortense made opposite motions, beckoning her over, holding out her arms for the boy. Teddy, first kneeling beside her, gave him to her, carefully cuddling his head on Hortense’s shoulder. It left Hortense with one free hand, and she grabbed Teddy’s hand, raising it to her lips and kissing it.
“May I called you Teddy?” she whispered.
“Please I want you to.”
“Teddy, you’ve given me back my soul.”
29
THEN WE ALL THREE gave way to tears, and for some moments let them come, not even trying to hold them back. And once more, the baby got in the act, starting to bawl again, but in such a comical way that we had to laugh. Then we were laughing and crying at the same time, and Hortense was talking to him, sweet, low, and mumbly, the way a mother should. Pretty soon she turned to Teddy who was still kneeling beside her and told her: “It’s true what he said, Dr. Palmer—until now, I hadn’t chosen a name for him. I didn’t care. He didn’t seem real to me. They told me he was mine, that he’d been taken from me, but to me he was nothing. Now, thanks to you, Teddy, he’s not. You uttered the one word, love, that changed everything, and rebuked me, and chastened me, and woke me. Teddy, will you be my child’s godmother? Will you let me name him for you? My I call him Theodore?”
“Oh, Mrs. Garrett, I’d feel so honored!”
“Teddy, to you from now on, I’m Hortense.”
“Mrs. Garrett, I wouldn’t quite have the nerve.”
“Since when are you so shy?” I meant it to be funny, but it snapped out just the least bit short, and she jumped up, facing me, as though to bat me one in the jaw. Then we all laughed. “Getting back to the main point,” Hortense said, “as soon as I’m able, to have him baptized—”
“You’re going to ask me, Mrs. Garrett?”
“You can hold him. And if Lloyd would like to come—?”