Читать книгу Bad Dad - Alice Shane - Страница 19

Mary Lou stood outside their yellow clapboard mobile home, watering the lawn, as Lester and Margo drove up in the Range Rover SUV they rented at the airport. She smiled and waived, shut off the water, her wispy, peroxided hair flying in the breeze.

Lester immediately disliked her. That short skirt! The tight floral top with her tits popping out. Trailer trash, he thought. She looked completely different from the photos Danny had sent him depicting Mary Lou as a sweet young mother, modestly dressed in slacks and a tailored blouse. What did he expect? She was from the housing projects and looked it. Whatever made Danny marry her? He was mystified, curious. His son’s penis was bigger than his brain, Lester concluded.

Mary Lou’s gaze settled upon Margo who was emerging from the SUV, her dark brown shoulder-length hair glistening in the Southern sun. She envied Margo’s elegance. Even in jeans, a t-shirt and simple brown sandals, she exuded class, an aura of being well cared for. An expensive-looking bitch, Mary Lou thought, wishing she knew how to achieve that look.

Her eyes were drawn to Margo’s square-shaped diamond engagement ring. It was two carats, three at the most Mary Lou surmised – larger than her own little 3/4 carat affair that Danny had purchased from Zales before they were married, but much smaller than one would expect from such a rich man. If she had married someone as wealthy as Lester, she would have insisted upon a bigger diamond – four, five carats, maybe. Danny was right. His father was a tightwad, she concluded.

Lester was handsome, distinguished looking, Mary Lou noted. He reminded her of a college professor. She watched him ascend the steps to where she stood. Mary Lou wondered if any of the neighbors were watching. She glanced around, seeing no one. Mary Lou liked the idea of inciting jealousy. She had hoped someone had seen the Range Rover in front of their house, and the classy-looking people coming to visit.

Lester was smiling, revealing perfectly aligned white teeth. She was unaccustomed to seeing teeth like that, so straight, so perfect. Hers weren’t too bad, though, maybe spaced a little unevenly, still white despite her cigarette smoking. But she had been getting toothaches because they couldn’t afford dental care, or any other kind of medical care, for that matter.

She hoped the red miniskirt she was wearing and the gold sandals she bought at JCPenney showed off her legs to advantage. Maybe that’s what he was smiling about – her great legs, her best feature, except for her boobs which she liked to show off. Her heart began to pound. Lester had taken her hand and squeezed it, kissing her briefly on the cheek. What did that mean? Did it mean he was attracted to her? Just being friendly? Fatherly? She couldn’t tell. Her own father had disappeared shortly after she was born so she didn’t have a clue about what fathers were like.

“So this is our Mary Lou,” Lester said kindly, wanting to make her feel comfortable, trying to ignore the overwhelmingly sweet scent of cologne that assaulted his nostrils, hoping it wouldn’t cling to his lips or clothing. He avoided the urge to wipe his mouth. “Where’s Danny? Can’t wait to see my boy,” he said, unable to temper his impatience.

“He’ll be out in a minute. He’s helping Charlie get dressed,” Mary Lou replied, squinting in the sun, resenting this urgency to see Danny. She desperately wanted Lester to focus his attention upon her. A waive of sweet warmth, infatuation, flowed through her body. He was so handsome, so rich. He could open up a world of possibilities, transform her deprived life into one of abundance, make her feel adequate, whole. Surely, that was the kind of life Margo enjoyed. Why couldn’t she have it?

Margo now stood next to Lester, maintaining a glacial stance, barely smiling, formally shaking hands with Mary Lou whose hands were cool, damp, with slightly rough palms.

“We’ve been looking forward to this, “ Margo said dryly, trying to conjure up some warmth, but feeling a coldness in her heart, taken aback by Mary Lou’s blatant sexuality and the all-pervasive scent of her cologne, the cleavage brazenly exposed, the short skirt that revealed too much of her white thighs.

“Well, let’s see what happened to those two. C’mon in,” Mary Lou said cheerfully, inviting them into the living room where she directed them to a brown faux leather sofa. Lester and Margo glanced around, taking in the green and buff interior, a glass enclosed fireplace across the room, video games neatly stacked on the floor next to a television set, the kitchen area visible through an open arch, just off the living room.

She and Danny had cleaned house the day before. Everything was orderly, meticulously clean. Just because they lived in a trailer park didn’t mean they had to be slobs, she told Danny when he resisted her efforts to enlist him in housecleaning projects, saying he worked hard enough all week and shouldn’t be expected to clean house.

Danny suddenly emerged from a hallway, his thinning brownish-blonde hair slightly damp, looking like he might have just gotten out of the shower. He wore a short sleeved yellow t-shirt that emphasized a broad chest and heavily muscled arms.

“Dad! It’s great seeing you,” he said, shaking Lester’s hand, trying to be friendly, at the same time maintaining a discreet distance. What else could he do, he wondered. Hug Lester who might not welcome such intimacy? His father was never one for obvious displays of affection so why would he expect it now?

In truth, he did not know if he loved or hated his father. No. he did not love him, at least for now. Certainly not after Lester had rejected him for fathering Charlie and marrying Mary Lou.

Hate? Not that either. Well, what did he feel for his father? The man was a stranger to him. How does one feel about strangers? Neutral. Nada. Certainly, one does not hug strangers.

Lester was surprised to see that Danny had evolved into husky, confident manhood. It was the out-of-doors, the pole climbing, he thought, remembering Danny as a wiry, almost skinny teenager the last time they saw one another when they attended a football weekend together at Bridgefield Academy.

“Good to see you, son,” Lester said. “Really good. I missed you.” Lester’s voice descended to deeper, more intimate tones as he tried to think of something else to say. He wanted to tell Danny how much he regretted their estrangement, that he was sorry and wanted to make it up to him. But that would have to wait.

“Same here,” Dad, ” Danny said, barely smiling, settling into a brown leather easy chair opposite Lester and Margo. He tried not to show the torrent of emotion he was experiencing, how grateful he was to have his father back in his life.

“Where’s Charlie?” Mary Lou wanted to know. “Charlie! You come out here and meet your grandfather and Miss Margo!” she shouted, disappearing into the hallway.

Charlie emerged from the rear of the house, a wary, nervous expression on his face at the sight of Margo and Lester, breaking into a shy smile that revealed wide-spaced front teeth and a fleeting display of dimples.

“Well! Aren’t you a good-looking young man!” Lester remarked, holding his hand out to the boy, who smiled even more broadly.

“Thank you sir,” he said, his eyes wandering to Margo who remained cool, restrained. “How do you do, Miss Margo?” he said politely, as if he had rehearsed this moment.

“Lovely meeting you,” Margo said, squeezing the boy’s hand affectionately. He was a thin child, with close-cropped dark brown hair, brown eyes and tanned olive skin, bearing no resemblance to Danny or Lester, or Mary Lou for that matter.

She must have been screwing around with a Mexican or Puerto Rican at the same time she was running around with Danny, Margo surmised.

As if reading Margo’s mind, suddenly embarrassed by Charlie’s swarthiness, Mary Lou piped up with a surprising revelation.

“I’m part Cherokee.,” she announced, self-consciously toying with a long strand of blonde hair. “Would you ever believe it? Ah mean, would you believe I got Indian blood in me, with me being so blonde and all that?”

Margo saw Lester’s eyes widen in disbelief, an expression that faded in a nanosecond. One thing about Lester, she thought – he had amazing control over his reactions and feelings.

“That’s interesting but no big deal,” Margo said, wanting to make the best of things by appearing amiable.

“Yes, mah grandpop was a full-blooded Cherokee. That’s where our little Charlie gets his dark, handsome good looks,” she said, crossing her leg, showing a full length of thigh.

Margo remained silent. The twit was probably screwing around and had the cunning to make Danny believe he was the father, she thought.

“What really matters, is that he’s a wonderful boy who does well in school, isn’t that true, Charlie?” Lester said sympathetically, wondering how the child managed to endure his mother’s coarseness, her crude explanation for his dark complexion.

The boy, having climbed onto Danny’s lap, nodded in the affirmative. “I ain’t no Indian, though,” he said firmly, turning toward his father for support.

Shock temporarily registered on Danny’s face. Why did Mary Lou have to lie like that? He knew God damned well that her old man wasn’t a Cherokee or any other kind of Indian. Who’s she kidding? True, he sometimes wondered if little Charlie was another man’s child but he tried not to dwell on it. He loved Charlie and, as far as he was concerned, the boy was his.

“What did I tell you about sayin’ ‘ain’t?’ You’re a straight A student and you’re sayin’ ‘ain’t!’ Cut it out, do you hear?” Danny admonished in a thick Southern drawl.

“Sorry folks, but I can’t seem to break him of the habit. I guess it’s because the kids around here talk that way,” Danny explained to Lester and Margo.

“I say ‘ain’t’ and you never complain,” Mary Lou chimed in smugly.

“That’s because I know it wouldn’t do any good,” Danny said dryly. “But I don’t want my son talkin’ that way.”

“Are you sayin’ that you don’t want our son to be anything like me? Is that how it goes?” she challenged, her full, reddened lips thinning into a pout.

Alarmed, dismayed at this sudden outburst, Margo mutely glanced at Lester. She was the outsider, unrelated except by marriage to these people and knew better than to interfere with their arguments. But it was difficult keeping quiet. She very much wanted to tell Mary Lou to shut up, but restrained the urge.

“Hey, kids. No more of this! Besides, it’s almost time for dinner. Where would you like to go?” Lester said, wanting to change the subject, concluding that Mary Lou was a piece of work.

He felt sorry for Danny. It must be rough for him, marrying out of his class, adjusting to her incivility and unruly behavior.

What made him do it? It was a question Lester often asked himself. Probably felt obligated to marry the little bitch after knocking her up, He could have just as easily supported the kid and gone on with his life. Was it love that inspired this unlikely union? Or was it fallout from his contentious divorce from Gloria, which could have made Danny vulnerable to Mary Lou’s manipulations?

They would have to talk, but only when the time was right, Lester decided. He might be Danny’s father but he didn’t want to be intrusive, a reluctance borne of guilt he felt for his son’s loss of status in the world. True, Danny was responsible for his own actions. But he could have been a better father, Lester admitted to himself. Certainly, he shouldn’t have been away so much – on hunting trips to Africa, business in Wyoming – leaving the boy at the mercy of his mother’s unpredictable moods and behaviors.

He now wanted to provide some protection for his son, help Danny transcend his descent into a lifestyle that doomed him to an inappropriate marriage and dangerous, low paying work, but he had no idea what to do about it at this at this juncture.