Heart's Desire (25 page)

Chapter Fifty-one

IT’S TERRIBLE, BUT THE FIRST THING THAT ENTERS MY MIND IS that at least I can’t be blamed in any way for whatever has happened, because this time I am in possession of a solid alibi.

We all charge toward the front door, but with his long legs Craig arrives there a half hour before the rest of us. Chairs are knocked over, rugs are pushed back, and lamps are lying sideways on the floor. It appears more like the house was ransacked by a person searching for something specific, rather than just vandalized. Above the fireplace the large Palladian-style mirror with the mask of a Roman god at the top is dangling from a single wire, as if the burglar checked behind it for a safe.

“Whew!” says Craig and then lets out a long low whistle as he surveys the mess.

“Do you think someone might still be here?” I ask. “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I’m sure they would have run out through the back after hearing a car pull into the driveway,” says Craig.

“But what about upstairs?” I ask. Bernard has valuable antiques stuffed into every corner of every drawer and closet all the way up to the attic.

“I’ll go up and check,” says Craig. He grabs the gold-plated shovel from off the floor next to the sofa that must have fallen out when the rack holding the fireplace tools toppled over.

“It appears that the thief knew what he or she was after,” suggests Olivia.

“I should say so,” agrees Bernard as he unhappily surveys the destruction and then carefully picks up a small bronze statue of a naked woman with long flowing hair reclining atop a butterfly. “This little piece is easily worth five thousand dollars—any art thief worth his salt would have grabbed it.” A puzzled look crosses Bernard’s face as he quickly discovers other valuable items disturbed but not stolen.

“Same with these.” From off the floor Olivia gathers up a half-dozen cameos, some encrusted with real jewels, which are usually displayed on a marble pedestal in the corner of the living room. “Bertie, you’d better check on that Rembrandt etching.”

Bernard hurries into Olivia’s study and opens the drawer in the file cabinet where she keeps the household records. Leave it to the Stocktons to have a Rembrandt etching stuck between the telephone bills in an unlocked file cabinet. “It’s here!” he calls out with relief.

“En maron!”
Ottavio shouts from the kitchen. “Olee-vee-ah! Rocky es hurt.”

We converge in the kitchen to find Rocky crumpled up in the corner with a crushed lamp shade stuck on one foot.

“Oh no!” Olivia quickly gets down on her knees to check for signs of life. But when she lifts Rocky’s arm and then his head, they both go limp. “Oh no, oh no,” repeats Olivia as she puts her face up close to his in order to feel for his breath.

“
Oh no
is right,” says Bernard, though not with the same note of concern. He picks up an empty bottle of Gordon’s gin from off the floor. And then a bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila from underneath the step stool.

Rocky slowly comes to and Bernard starts yelling at him about being a drunkard.

But Olivia keeps her calm. “Hallie,” she says, “call Brandt at the lab and tell him to come home right away. The number is taped next to the phone.”

“What’s Brandt supposed to do?” asks an angry Bernard.

“He can talk to Rocky and find out what happened,” says Olivia.

“It’s obvious what happened!” shouts Bernard. “That stupid monkey went on a spree and ruined how many thousands of dollars’ worth of antiques!”

“Attsa no good,” concurs Ottavio.

“Perhaps he fought off the burglar,” proposes Olivia, though doubtfully. Her voice is filled with worry. It’s obvious that Rocky will have to go if he’s capable of this kind of destruction. And we all know from when he first arrived that there’s nowhere else to go except to sleep, for good. The zoos had made it quite clear that they don’t run AA programs for chimpanzees.

“Mother, he’s clearly intoxicated!” Bernard is fuming. “I can’t believe the mess that he’s made!” He looks down with disdain at the chimp, whose eyes are now half open. “Rocky! I thought you’d reformed.”

Bernard storms out of the kitchen and continues moving through the house in an effort to assess the damage. Though several lamps and vases have been knocked over and silver boxes and statuettes are on the floor, aside from the ruined lamp shade on Rocky’s foot, only a Delft dry-drug jar and a gilded Bohemian goblet are smashed beyond repair. However, it’s certainly going to take a while to put things back in order. There are chips of firewood everywhere and a lightbulb has been smashed, leaving small shards of glass across the rugs and in the sofa cushions. The Dirk Van Erp table lamp has a crack in the base, but Bernard says it can probably be repaired so that it’s not noticeable.

Otherwise, the liquor cabinet is wide-open, the mesh screen is dented, and bottles are strewn across the floor in front of it. I’m surprised that Rocky didn’t at least use a glass. Whenever he tends bar he almost always makes mixed drinks.

Craig comes back downstairs and reports, “All clear. In fact, it doesn’t appear that the burglar even made it upstairs. Everything is in order. Maybe he did get scared off when the car pulled up, and escaped through the woods.”

I nod toward the kitchen, indicating that Craig should look in there if he wants an answer to the purported break-in. Then I take out a broom and begin sweeping up the glass and broken pottery.

After a few minutes Craig calls out, “Hey, Hallie, come look at this.”

I return to the kitchen, where Olivia is still tending to Rocky, who is now sitting up slightly, his face in his hands.

“It looks as if someone tore chunks out of his fur.” Craig points to the back of Rocky’s neck, which we couldn’t see before when he was lying down.

“Sure enough, either Rocky had a run-in with my weed whacker or else he’s developed one heck of a case of mange.”

“Maybe there
was
an intruder and Rocky fended him off,” suggests Craig.

But Olivia doesn’t appear encouraged and tears well up in her eyes. She sits with Rocky while he comes out of his daze and gently strokes his head.

The noisy engine of Brandt’s rust-bucket Dodge can be heard in the driveway and I run out to meet him.

“Brandt, you’ve got to find out exactly what happened, because I’m afraid they’re going to put Rocky to sleep,” I hastily explain as we head toward the kitchen.

Brandt immediately starts signing at Rocky. But Rocky just stares back at him with glazed eyes. Rocky’s expression appears so humanlike that one would almost think he’s too humiliated to answer. Only it’s more likely that in his current state, Rocky doesn’t understand what Brandt is trying to say.

Bernard stands behind us holding an orange-and-blue Imari plate broken neatly in two that he’s just discovered under the dining room table. “It’s just as I told you,” says an angry Bernard. “He went on a spree!”

It turns out that Rocky understands Brandt perfectly. After a few minutes he begins to slowly sign back.

Brandt nods understandingly and motions some more at Rocky. The chimp becomes excited and starts gesturing frantically and then hopping up and down and making hooting noises, followed by what sounds like a dog barking.

“Oh!”
says Olivia. “I think I’m beginning to understand.”

“What?”
asks an increasingly frustrated Bernard. “What is he prattling on about?”

“Lulu,” says Olivia.

Rocky suddenly looks over to her with hurt in his eyes.

“He had a fight with that damn dog?” asks Bernard. “In the
house
?”

“He’s in love with Lulu,” says Brandt. “Rocky wants more than she does from the relationship. And so he got upset.”

“It’s summertime,” Olivia says wistfully. “Thoughts turn to love.”

“And love turns to disaster,” I can’t help but add. It’s tempting to ask Brandt to tell Rocky that I’m actually doing considerably worse when it comes to the dating game. The only difference being that I haven’t ripped apart a house yet. But that doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.

“Well, tell him that
she’s a Great Dane
and
he’s a chimpanzee,
” says an irate Bernard. “And I’d be happy to show him the difference in a mirror, except that all of mine appear to be broken!”

Chapter Fifty-two

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING A DELIVERY TRUCK PULLS UP WITH everything that Craig ordered for the pond. He’s already at the site and directs the two men in unloading the flagstone, pond liner, bags of concrete, imitation stone bridge, filtration system, water testing kits, and heaven knows what else. It’s the biggest mess I’ve ever seen, and fortunately Craig is expecting some guys he used to play football with to help him get started. In the meantime, it looks as if it’s going to rain any minute, and so I search the garage for some tarps to cover the boxes and especially the concrete. If Bernard didn’t use the area to store all the furniture he’s someday planning on refinishing, we could just put everything in there.

On one of the shelves in the back of the garage I come across Gil’s baseball glove. It’s not as if I need an excuse to call him, but I know he’ll want his beloved mitt for the annual company picnic, where he always plays first base. Besides, it’s been weeks since we’ve spoken and it’s easy to see how kids of divorced parents can lose touch with the one they don’t live with, no matter how much they may like or miss that person.

After finding Craig some big sheets of plastic that were used to cover the floors when I painted last year, I go inside and phone Gil. He sounds thrilled that I’ve called and invites me to Cleveland for dinner that very night. He also asks if I’d like to meet his girlfriend, and even though it’s not exactly at the top of my to-do list, I say okay. However, I don’t tell Bernard that she’s on the menu.

It ends up raining most of the day, and so after shopping for some new tomato cages over at the hardware store, I sit down with my school course catalogue and try to figure out what classes to take in the fall. It’s hard to believe you can actually earn three credits for studying “The Societal Implications of Television.” My dad would have a fit if he thought his money was going toward something like that. Dad has made it clear on numerous occasions that he believes television, which he did not have growing up, turns people into unemployable idiots. Though he seems happy to make an exception when it comes to watching televised sporting events.

Finally at four o’clock I shower, dress, and head out the door to make the one-hour drive to Cleveland. “Have fun,” Bernard calls after me from the front porch. “Melik and I are off to a Danish film tonight.” And then as if it’s an afterthought he adds, “I don’t mind if you tell Gil that I’m seeing someone. In fact, I’m sure he’ll be relieved to know that he has no more home-cooked meals to fear from me!”

Gil and Doris have arranged to meet me at an Indian restaurant just down the street from his new place, which I guess is not so new anymore, even though it will never really seem like his home to me. A young woman wearing a brightly colored sari escorts me to their table.

Gil rises and gives me a full-sized hug. His wrist is out of the cast and he looks okay, though perhaps a bit somber and slightly thinner. However, a big smile crosses his face when I surprise him by pulling his baseball glove out of my backpack.

Doris is in her mid-thirties, maybe a year or two younger than Gil, wearing a flowered dress with two strands of pearls, looking very proper and midwestern. She has short brown hair, hazel eyes, and seagull-shaped eyebrows that appear to have been penciled in about an inch above and to the right of the originals.

“Sweetheart,” Gil says, turning to Doris, “this is Hallie.”

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Hallie. Gilbert has told me so much about you that I feel as if we already know each other.” She speaks in a cheerful Kentucky drawl that sounds slightly fake, at least the cheerful part does. Her smile could power all of downtown Cleveland, and perhaps one or two suburbs, depending on whether or not air conditioners are in use.

I go to shake her hand but she uses the contact as an opportunity to reel me in for a big hug like I’m her partner at a square dance. There’s nothing to do but hug back and try not to burp.

Despite the fact that Doris has a shapely figure and only a few discernible lines (though they appear to be more a result of cracks in her pancake makeup than the onset of old age), she seems the older of the two. I don’t know if it’s the way she calls him “dear” like in those 1950s movies that Bernard is always watching, or because she wipes down everyone’s silverware with her napkin.

Obviously they’ve been dating a lot, because Doris points to all of Gil’s favorite dishes on the menu, as if her happiness depends on him having the perfect meal. Then she asks me about school and if I like to ride horses.

“I’ve bet on a lot more horses than I’ve ridden,” I tell her truthfully.

“Oh, what an interesting hobby. Did you know that Gilbert’s family once ran the best horse-breeding farm in all of Kentucky?” She affectionately squeezes his arm. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Maybe it was one of the top ten,” Gil says modestly.

Of course I knew that! I only lived with him for almost a year— longer than she’s been dating him! “Actually, I did,” I say, trying to sound polite and yet at the same time inform Doris that she doesn’t know more about
Gilbert
than everyone else in the world.

“Maybe after we’re married we’ll have some horses and you can come over and ride,” suggests Doris.

“Married?” I look at her hand, and sure enough, there’s the diamond ring.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” Gil says apologetically. In other words, he probably didn’t want to tell me while Bernard was listening in.

Gil and Doris, Bernard and Melik—it’s all so
wrong.
I want my adopted parents back! But I try to appear happy for them. Raising my Coke to toast their engagement, I say, “Oh, well, then congratulations!” But I do it too fast and some cola spills onto the tablecloth and down my arm. “Excuse me, but I have to go to the ladies’ room.”

I rush to the back of the restaurant and grab the receiver off the pay phone. But who am I going to call? Bernard might stick his head into the bread machine. No, I’d tell him in person, with trained professionals standing by. Craig? What is
he
supposed to do. Olivia? She’ll just say,
“Que sera, sera.”
I’ll have to deal with this one on my own. And suddenly I have an idea of how to do exactly that.

When I return to the table Doris charges ahead with her sunny conversation. “And what about you, Hallie? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh sure,” I say as if my phone rings so much that I’ve worn out two answering machines just in the past week. “Tons of them. Why be tied down to one person?”

“I suppose not, at your age,” agrees Doris. “But in a few years you may find yourself thinking about settling down and starting a family.” She automatically scrunches closer to Gil in the booth and I’m scared to look down for fear that she may be initiating a game of kneesies under the table.

“Maybe,” I say. “But I feel as if I have two perfectly good families already—my own and the Stocktons. Hey Gil, remember the time Bernard put the earrings on while we were having breakfast and the coffee sprayed out of your nose and all over the tablecloth?”

But Gil is shaking his head from side to side indicating that this would
not
be a good thing to recollect right now. He moves his eyes toward Doris and I think I get his drift. However, I’m suddenly curious as to exactly how much of Gil’s old life Doris knows about. If I really wanted to be evil I could call her up at home and tell her. Or else anonymously send her the picture of Bernard and Gil dressed up as Antony and Cleopatra.

After dinner we drop Doris off at her town house. At first I think it’s rather odd that she doesn’t stay over; however, Gil explains that Doris leaves for her job as a bookkeeper early in the morning. He invites me back to his place and I’m surprised to find that he still hasn’t unpacked. But I suppose that soon enough he and Doris will be buying a house together, and so why bother.

“How is everyone back in Cosgrove?” Gil finally asks. “Is Craig home for the summer?”

“Just for a few weeks, but he’s working on building a pond over at the house, and so I guess I’ll see him a lot.” I feel a sudden rush of excitement talking about Craig. “It’s a wild pond—there are going to be lily pads and fish and even lights for at night!”

“So Bernard finally went ahead with the pond.” Gil says this a bit regretfully, I think, as if he’s fondly recalling the many nest-building projects that were constantly under way.

“He has a new boyfriend.” I say this casually and pretend to look over at the pole lamp but keep a careful eye out for any reaction from Gil. “He’s a rug dealer, and so of course they have a lot in common.”

“I see,” Gil appears interested, but not necessarily in a happy sort of way, more like he’s listening to bad test results from a doctor’s office.

“He loves Bernard’s cooking, but then who wouldn’t?” I begin to lay it on thick. “And they go to lots of movies together. Melik, that’s his name, he’s very knowledgeable about foreign films.” I’m careful not to mention the recent adoption trauma.

“Oh, Melik, is it? No wonder I haven’t heard from Bernard in a while. Does this
Melik
—I mean, is he . . . what does he look like?”

“He’s Turkish, with dark shiny hair and these really gorgeous eyes. I figure he’s in his late twenties, and in nice shape, too. I guess you get pretty good muscles from lifting all those rugs.” I laugh as if this is a joke. But Gil looks really depressed. So I take this as my cue to continue.

“Gosh, he missed you like crazy at first. I was
really
worried about him. Same with Olivia. But now he’s back to his usual happy self. Brandt installed a computer down at the shop so, believe it or not, he actually sells merchandise online. And he finally bought one of those grills that you set up on top of the kitchen stove. It has cast-iron construction for superior heat retention and distribution,” I quote directly from the manual.

It’s hard to tell whether it’s the strain of the engagement or the new grill that does the trick, but it’s at this moment that I know Gil is going to fall right into line with my plan.