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CHAPTER 20

Swan Entertains

      STROLLING BACK and forth in the kitchen, Swan thought about how complicated and painful her life was and wondered how she could manage to be so absurdly happy.

      "Because I don't deserve anything that's happened," she thought. "I never deserved the agony I went through this past year, when I'd never done anything wrong at all, and I sure don't deserve this happiness now when I'm sneaking around like a thief in the night."

      She put a cone of fresh white filter paper into the funnel-shaped plastic holder and set it on top of the glass carafe. "Because that's exactly what I am," she thought, spooning sweet-smelling coffee grounds into the filter. "Guilty as if I was robbing Fort Knox. They ought to lock me up and throw away the key."

      She hummed softly to herself as she poured the boiling water over the grounds. "Now I'll pour myself one little cup," she thought, "and have it in the bedroom while I finish getting dressed."

      What a beautiful morning it was. What a wonderful world!

      That was when the doorbell chimed.

      Swan felt a little thrill of unease. Should she answer it? Of course; why not? She had certainly done no harm here, indeed, she had been cleaning and polishing ever since she moved in. And she had a perfect right to be here; Tagg himself had given her the keys and urged her to make herself at home. But then again —

      The bell chimed a second time, and still Swan hesitated. After all, she was in her dressing gown, and . . . no, she had to answer it. Her car was in the driveway. It would look funny if she didn't come to the door.

      So she went to the door.

      And was instantly sorry that she had not followed her first impulse, because, Oh shit! it was Lucy! Sweet, trusting, overworked, naive Lucy, who had no more idea of what was what than the man in the moon.

      "Well . . . well Lucy. Hel-lo." Swan said.

      Lucy was looking just as amazed as she herself felt. Swan also noticed that Lucy had on that same faded old denim skirt and ancient white letter sweater that she had been wearing for the last how-many years. Her hair was pinned up in a bun at the crown of her head, from which her soft hair falling away in all directions, and her shoes — the kind of terrible sneakers they sold at Wal-Mart — were stained and dirty with the mud that covered the whole world this morning.

      All that was typical, Swan thought. The world knew that although Bob Vance was rich as the devil, neither Bobby nor Lucy ever got a nickel from him, although he worked them half to death. And poor Lucy never had any decent clothes at all. Even so, Swan thought, she looked just marvelous. Lucy could have worn a gunny sack and looked marvelous. How did she do it?

      While thinking all these things, Swan recovered herself enough to say, "Did you come to visit me, honey? Would you like to come in?"

      After all, this could almost have been her sister-in-law. How could she not invite her in (Heaven help her). And maybe she would come and go quickly without being any the wiser.

      "Oh no," Lucy said "It's too early — and look, my shoes are all over mud?" (Which was certainly true?) "I must have made a mistake. For some reason, somebody told me it was Bobby who was staying here."

      It took Swan a moment before she could answer, "B-Bobby? Who said — well, what a thing to say?"

      Could she have carried it all off? She would never know. Because at that precise moment, just the way things in Swan's life always happened at the worst, most impossible moment — Bobby himself came ambling out of his bedroom (Tagg's old bedroom, really), looking like some hunky movie star with his hair tousled with sleep and wearing nothing but a pair of bright red undershorts!

      He blinked and yawned. "Hey, what's going on?"

      Oh Mercy! Lucy's eyes opened wide, moving from those red shorts to Swan's blue silk dressing down and back again. Swan felt herself go scarlet. The cat was definitely out of the bag now?

      With more presence of mind than she would have thought herself capable of, Swan took Lucy's arm and drew her inside the house and shut the door behind her, closing out not only the freezing cold, but the gaze of any possibly nosy neighbors. After which, Lucy remained thunderstruck on the little card-table-sized square of tile that served as entryway onto the sea of Tagg's mother's pale blue carpeting.

      By this time, it was dawning on her precious, imbecile darling that his sister, unlike the entire rest of the world, had never had an inkling. And seeing that, even he, who was always as certain of his welcome everywhere as a big adorable puppy, realized they were going to have some explaining to do.

      So before he could open his mouth and make things worse, Swan said, "Go put some clothes on, Mister, before you catch cold," and as Bobby obediently (and gratefully she hoped) retreated into the bedroom, Swan led Lucy to the couch and sat her down. Although of course Lucy stopped to take off her muddy shoes and leave them at the tile entry. Even in a crisis like this, she was that thoughtful?

      "Lucy, dear, I'm going to go get my coffee, and I'm going to get you some too. You look frozen." Lucy nodded dumbly. She did look frozen, too; her poor feet, which were now bare, were practically blue. So Swan unfolded Tagg's mother's afghan and put it over Lucy's lap to keep her warm, and then she brought her a cup of coffee and one of the croissants-out-of-a-can she had just baked for breakfast. She made all this take long enough, what with bringing cups and saucers, and spoons, and cream and sugar, and napkins, and the plate of croissants, and little plates to put them on, and then going back for the coffee itself, and pouring it, and offering cream and sugar, so that by the time they were settled, Bobby had had time to dress. And to get himself back to the living room. And also to think about what he wanted to say to his sister, Swan hoped.

      All this time, Lucy had sat there saying nothing at all just looking stunned. But when Lucy and Swan were seated at opposite ends of the couch, and Bobby (safely dressed now) was in the recliner beside the blonde wood coffee table, well out of reach of either one of them, it was Lucy who took the initiative.

      "You never went to Tagg's at all," she said to her brother. "You were coming right here that night?"

      He shook his head. "No, Sis, I didn't come here. I went to Tagg both times. Swan was at her mother's then."

      "Then?" Lucy said, "Then? How long has this been going on?"

      It took Swan a moment to realize what Lucy meant, and then she said defensively, "No, Lucy. It's not like you think? I hadn't seen Bobby since he and Normalade got married — no, even before that actually? When the baby was born and I saw him at your house, that was the first time in almost eight months?"

      "Since Normalade broke the news," Bobby said softly.

      Lucy looked from one to the other. "Then why did Swan come work for us? Why did you want to, Swan? I don't understand."

      "Well, I — " Swan stopped. She hardly knew the answer. Normalade had come to her all those months ago, grinning and preening and hugging herself saying, "You think you're so big with your cute steady boyfriend that loves you so much? Well let me tell you, he loves you so much that he's been going to bed with me, and he got me pregnant, too!" And when Swan had said, "He wouldn't!" Normalade had said "Well, he did! And he's going to marry me, too! So who's so big now!" And it was as if all the lights had gone out.

      Finally she said, "Well, when I first found out what happened, I just sort of — took off."

      Bobby said, even more softly, "Never even said goodbye."

      "How could I? I just packed my bag and got on a bus and went where it took me. It happened to be a bus to Albuquerque, but it could have been anywhere. I didn't care."

      Lucy looked at her curiously. "What did you do when you got there?"

      "Nothing. Bought a paper, answered ads, got a job. Put down something on a car. A week or so after that, I thought Mama would be worrying, so I called her and told her I was okay. By that time, they were already married. Good thing, I guess. I'd had time to think, by then."

      Bobby said something under his breath, but Swan didn't catch what. After a pause, she added. "At first I hated them both. Only, of course, I couldn't really hate him. And after all, whatever Normalade is, she's still my sister. So then it got turned around in my mind that he was the one who hated me. "

      He looked up with a hurt, haunted look in his eyes. "How could you ever think that? It was never anything but you and me. That's crazy."

      Swan didn't remind him that no, it had also been him and Normalade. She said, "Yes, I guess it was crazy, but . . . I was kind of crazy by then, you know?"

      He growled, "I know. I should know. I was too."

      "And you never saw each other?" Lucy persisted. "Or wrote or anything?"

      "Of course not. He was married, Lucy. To my sister!"

      "Then why did you come back?"

      "Because Mama called me. The night the baby was born, I guess Normalade had called her when she was out somewhere, but when she called back, Normalade was gone, and all anybody knew was that the baby was coming. So she got all upset and called me and woke me up and cried that I had to come home and help her find Normalade. I didn't know what was happening. She made it sound like there was a catastrophe — I just ran out and jumped in the car that minute." Swan laughed a little, remembering how she'd pulled on her jeans over her pajamas and stuffed her underwear in her purse. "I was lucky I didn't forget my shoes!"

      Lucy said, "And you came straight to our house?"

      "Not right away. When I got to Mama's, all I found was a note saying she was there. I sure wouldn't have gone there on my own unless I had to." Bobby gave a sort of groan, but Swan didn't glance at him; she had to make Lucy understand. "How could I stand to? For one thing, Normalade was there. And for another, I thought he hated me."

      She stopped, puzzling it out. "But that . . . that made things okay, sort of. I know this is weird, but I thought since he hated me and was married to Normalade and all — it was safe for me to still go on loving him!"

      Lucy shook her head. "Well, I don't understand any of that!"

      "Well, maybe I don't either, but there it is!" Swan sighed. "And when I got to your house, it was okay, sort of. Bobby wasn't there, and it turned out I could stand to be in the same room with Normalade without killing her, and Mama did all the talking. And the baby was — oh, Lucy, he's just so wonderful!"

      "Oh, he is, isn't he? And so good, Swan. I always thought babies cried a lot, but he's just so sweet and good?"

      Bobby watched them for a minute, then he said, "Old Tagg and I got there, we didn't know what had happened? Me? I wanted to run."

      Looking at him, Swan's heart ached. She understood that. She herself had wanted to die, right then, on the spot. And right now, all she wanted was to put her arms around him, big, cowardly baby that he was. I guess you would have," she said tenderly.

      "I would've left, only Tagg wouldn't let me," he admitted. "Room full of all those women, and Miss Peaches holding Him. And on top of that, seeing you, Swan. It was a lot to take in, I'll tell you. I barely knew my own name."

      "You wouldn't look at me," she said.

      "You never looked at me."

      "Of course. But then, when I tried to leave, my stupid purse opened up!"

      He said, "I'd been thinking you'd never speak to me or look at me again. I'd thought I was doomed. And then, when I saw the pictures . . ."

      Swan felt her face go hot. "Those stupid pictures. I was so ashamed!"

      "They saved us," he said simply. "I knew you'd forgiven me."

      "And you helped me. You got them all and covered them up and gave them back to me, so nobody would know how dumb I was." In spite of herself, tears welled in Swan's eyes. "I was so grateful. And then, when we looked at each other, and I knew —"

      "Knew what?" Lucy said sharply.

      "I knew I wasn't dead anymore. If Bobby didn't really hate me, everything was okay after all." Swan moved closer to Lucy on the couch, eager to make her understand? "See, I'd always had this happy little life, and then all of a sudden — everybody betrayed me: Bobby, because he slept around with my sister; Normalade, because she seduced him and engineered it; even Mama, because of course, once Normalade was pregnant, what else was she going to do? But then I — I didn't know what to do. I had nothing left.

      "I've been like a dead person this year, Lucy. I hardly knew how to get up in the morning, or eat breakfast, or sleep, or anything. I was just working and going home and getting up the next morning and going to work again. For a long while there, I didn't even have a television?"

      Bobby was looking at her as if he was ready to cry. "Me too," he said piteously.

      Lucy frowned at him. "Come on, Bobby, I never saw any change in you. And as for whatever you and Normalade . . . well, nobody held a gun to your head/"

      "Well, she did, sort of. One night —" He looked over at Swan in a meaningful way. "That one night — after I dropped Swan off, I ran into Normalade at the Dairy-Kreme, and she asked me for a ride home. And she was carrying this fancy drink, and somehow she — she sort of spilled stuff on her top, and . . . she took it off? And she wasn't wearing anything under it. So what was I going to do?"

      Well, it was obvious even to Lucy that he had left a lot of things out of that story. She said, "Don't be stupid? You still didn't have to."

      But in answer, Bobby and Swan spoke at once. He said, "You don't understand." And at the same time, she said, "You don't know what she's like." At that, they stopped and laughed and looked at each other with affection. And, Swan thought, with real understanding. Yes, he really understood her now. Whatever mistakes he had made, she had no choice except to love him more than ever.

      But Lucy continued to bear down on him. "And the real point is that what's done is done. And marriage and a child are not something you can just quit with when you get tired of them."

      Swan had no answer for that, naturally, and when Bobby didn't answer either, Lucy persisted, "Listen. You're that baby's father!"

      Bobby jumped up and began roaming around the room. "Well maybe so, but I never wanted to be his father. And I never wanted to marry her, even after Swan left — hell, I never even liked her. And it was just that one time. Is that so terrible?"

      Lucy said, "Terrible or not, you did it. And it's not your baby's fault — and he shouldn't have to suffer for it."

      Swan felt her eyes fill. "Oh, I can't stand this! I should have stayed away forever and never even seen him again. Only I had to come when Mama called. And when I saw the baby, I really thought I could handle it. And I did! Until I saw you there at my door in the snow, and then I . . ."

      Looking at Bobby through her tears, she felt as if all her insides were melting away like soft ice cream, she was loving him so much. "Oh, I love him so much! And this is all my fault. I just want to die!"

      Bobby stopped pacing and came and knelt down and put his arms around her. "Don't say that," he growled. "It's not your fault — I was the one that did it. I did it all."

      And he kissed her, right there with Lucy looking on, and said, "You've always been my good angel — always."

      At that Swan put her head on his chest and began to cry in real earnest.

      With his head bowed over Swan's, Bobby groaned, "Oh, God! If only I'd kept it in my pants with Normalade that night! But she was all over me, and she made it so easy."

      Lucy was crying now, too. And that gave Swan the hope to say, "Oh please, Lucy, please don't give us away."

      That started Lucy off again. "You think this is a secret! What kind of secret can it be when Tagg, and Clive and Bertie all know about it! Half the town's probably heard it, considering how Bertie talks."

      "You know what I mean . . ."

      And she could see that Lucy did know. That Swan was begging her not to run home to Normalade and hurt her with it. She was asking Lucy not to tattle, not to discuss it confidentially with people, not to go tell it to the Beer Man. To promise not to tell.

      Lucy flashed back, "Yes, I know. You want me in on it. You want me sneaking around and hiding it. You want me to give my blessing to something I know is wrong!"

      Swan hid her head again on Bobby's chest. Lucy was right to be bitter. And anyway, she could not imagine Lucy telling it to Normalade, or Mama, or the old man. And Lucy was certainly not going to whisper jokes about it with Bertie.

      And what difference did it make, anyway, Swan thought despairingly. The real damage to Bobby's marriage was already done. By coming back here, she'd already robbed Fort Knox. She'd stolen all the gold of Bobby's love, just by being there. Just by existing. She had sentenced them all to terrible lives — Bobby, herself, Normalade, and that poor little baby. She was guilty as charged!

      "I have to say this is a calamity," Lucy went on thoughtfully. "And I don't know what to do about it. All I can see, Bobby, is that you got to come home and be a good husband to Normalade and a good father to the baby, and Swan has got to go away."

      Deep in her darling's arms, Swan nodded her head against his chest. Lucy was right. She had to go. And if it killed her, it killed her, that was all.

      "No."

      Swan felt the word resounding all through her. She felt it through his strong arms that were still around her. She heard it against the warm sound of his beating heart.

      Lucy said, "Be sensible, Bobby. If she stays, there's going to be gossip, and it's Swan who will pay the price for it. Your buddies won't care, and nobody that comes to the cafe will care much. But Swan will suffer for this while you go free."

      "No I won't." Bobby said. "Normalade will make sure of that. But none of that matters, Lucy. Now that I've got Swan again, I won't give her up! I guess you're right about me having to do the right thing by my family, but if Swan and I are going to spend the rest of our lives in prison, we got to have visitation rights, at least."

      "Bobby, that kind of thinking will get you in deep trouble." Lucy said. "And I don't like any part of it."

      Bobby gave a little nod. "Well, I know sis, but I guess we each got to act in accord with our own conscience."

      "Don't you try to act prissy! You know what's right and wrong. Our Mama taught us it's wrong to hurt the ones you love," Lucy said, "And it's also wrong to let the ones that rely on you be hurt because of things you do — or even things you don't do. She told me that the day before she died. And I've tried to live by that. You know I have, Bobby." Her voice sounded like she was next to tears.

      "I know," he said, not very loud. But Swan heard it, her head against his chest.

      "Then look at me, Bobby. You're my little brother and I love you." Swan turned her head a little, and opened her eyes so she could see again, and she saw Lucy looking right at her. "And I like and respect you, Swan. But I think your carrying on like this is going to lead you — and everybody that loves you — into real grief."

      Swan felt Bobby nod, and she nodded. But she couldn't help crying again.

      But now, having said what was right, Lucy went on, "I'll tell you again that I think Swan should go — I really do. But I can see you're going to make up your own minds about that, one way or another. And you might as well know that I won't lie for you . . . but I can be silent, if I have to. The only thing is, Bobby — that you have to promise me that whatever you do, you won't let that baby be hurt by any of this."

      Through her tears, Swan cried, "Oh you're a real angel. I always knew you were!"

      And Bobby said, "You're better than a sister to me, Luce — you're a real friend. Don't worry about the baby, I'll look out for him — I swear it."

      Lucy got up. "All right then. I got to go to work and cook." She took her cup and plate into the kitchen and rinsed them off and put them in the rack. Then she put on her cold, muddy shoes and went away.

      As the door closed, Swan put her arms around Bobby's middle and drew him close to her. Thank Heaven Lucy had not asked again why she wanted to come back and work for them. Because in her heart of hearts, she knew this was the reason.

     


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