Leota's Garden (2 page)

“Do you have anyone in your own family who might fit the lifestyle scenario you’ve presented, Mr. Solsek?”

“No, sir.” His entire family lived in Connecticut and upstate New York, too far away to do the number of interviews he’d need for a paper. Besides that, his family had money. His father had broken the chain of middle-class mediocrity. Corban’s paper zeroed in on those who were economically challenged. Nobody in his family depended on Social Security to survive. He thought of his mother living in Switzerland part of the year with her new investment-broker husband.

“Well, that presents a problem, doesn’t it, Mr. Solsek?” Professor Webster lifted his briefcase from the table. “However, I’m quite sure you’ll work it out.”

“Quit grousing, Cory,” Ruth said that afternoon in their shared apartment a few blocks off University Avenue. “It’s simple. If you want an A, do what Professor Webster wants you to do. It’s not like he’s asking you to do something terrible.” Raking her fingers through her straight, short black hair, she opened a cabinet in the kitchenette. “Are we out of coffee filters
again
?”

“No, there are plenty. Look in the cabinet to the left of the sink.”

“I didn’t put them there,” she said, closing the cabinet where she’d been searching.

“I did. Made better sense. The coffeepot is right underneath where the outlet is. I moved the mugs too. They’re on the shelf above the coffee and filters.”

Ruth sighed. “If I’d realized how difficult you are, I would’ve had second thoughts about moving in with you.” She took the can of coffee and pack of filters down from the cabinet.

“One case study.” Corban tapped his pencil. “That’s all I need.”

“A woman.”

He frowned. “Why a woman?”

“Because women are more ready to talk, that’s why.” She made a face. “And don’t ever tell my advocacy friends I said that.”

“A woman, then. Fine. What woman?”

“Someone with whom you can develop some rapport,” Ruth said, adding a fifth heaping scoop of French roast to the basket.

“I don’t need to get that personal.”

“Sure you do. How do you suppose you’ll get answers to the kind of questions you want if you don’t make friends with your subject?”

“I haven’t got time to develop a friendship, Ruth.”

“It doesn’t have to be
lifelong
, you know. Just long enough to finish your paper.”

“I’ve got a few months. That’s it. All I need is someone who meets my criteria and who’ll be willing to cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m sure
that’ll
impress Professor Webster.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Simple. Offer an incentive.”

“Money, you mean?”

“No, not money. Don’t be so dense, Cory.”

It annoyed him when she spoke to him in that condescending way. He tapped his pencil again, saying nothing more. She glanced back at him and frowned slightly. “Don’t look so ticked, Cory. All you have to do is offer services in exchange for information.”

He gave a hard laugh. “Sure. What kind of services could I offer?”

She rolled her eyes. “I hate it when you’re in one of these moods. You can’t be such a perfectionist in this world. Good grief. Just use your imagination. You’ve got one, haven’t you?”

Her tone grated. He leaned back in his chair, shoving his proposal away from him on the table, wishing he had taken a different avenue with his project. The prospect of having to talk with people made him nervous, although he wasn’t about to admit that to Ruth. She was working on a double major in marketing and telecommunications. She could talk to anybody, anytime, on any subject. Of course, it also helped to have a photographic memory.

“Quit stewing about it.” Ruth shook her head as she poured herself a cup of black coffee. “Just go down to the supermarket and help some little old lady carry her groceries home.”

“With my luck, she’ll think I’m some mugger after her purse.” He took up his pencil and started tapping it. “Better if I go through some community organization.”

“There. You came up with a solution.” She leaned down to kiss him on the lips, then took his pencil away and tucked it behind her ear as she straightened. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“What about dinner?” he said as she moved away from him. “It’s your night to cook.”

“Oh, Cory. I
can’t
. I’m sorry, but you know how long it takes me to put a meal together. If I’m going to do it, I have to do it right, and I’ve got two hundred pages of reading and some materials to review before a test tomorrow.”

No less than what he had to do most nights.

She paused in the doorway. Leaning against the jamb, she gave him a winsome smile, her dark hair framing her perfect, oval face. She had such beautiful dark eyes and the kind of smile toothpaste advertisers liked on billboards. Her skin was flawless, like an English lady’s. Not to mention the rest of her from the neck down. Ruth Coldwell came in a
very nice package, and underneath it all, she was smart. Not to mention ambitious.

One date was all it had taken for Corban to know she was a match for him. Even more so after the second date and a passionate night in his apartment. She made his head spin and sent his hormones into overdrive. A month after their first date, he was having trouble concentrating on his work and wondering what he was going to do about it. Then providence had smiled on him. Ruth had spilled out her money worries to him over coffee. In tears, she said she didn’t know where she was going to get enough money to finish the semester. He suggested she move in with him.

“Really?” Her beautiful brown eyes had glistened with tears. “You’re serious?” She’d made him feel like a knight in shining armor saving a lady in distress. Money was no problem for him.

“Sure.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Why not?” Once Corban made up his mind, it was a matter of finding the best way to achieve his goal.

“Because we haven’t known one another very long,” she had said, troubled.

“What don’t you know about me that you need to know?”

“Oh, Cory. I feel as though I’ve known you all my life, but it’s a big step.”

“I don’t see that it would change much. We spend every spare minute together as it is. We’re sleeping together. Save time if we lived together.”

“It’s sort of
serious
. Like getting married. And I’m not ready for that. I don’t even want to think about marriage at this stage in my life. I have too many things I need to do first.”

The word
marriage
had sent a chill through him. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment either. “No strings,” he had said and meant it. “We’ll share expenses and chores right down the middle. How’s that?” He grimaced now as he remembered saying it. But then, he’d said a lot of things to convince her. “It’d cut expenses for both of us.” Although money was no problem for him, he had been worried about hurting her pride.

She’d moved in the next afternoon.

They’d been living together for six months, and sometimes he found himself wondering . . .

Ruth came back into the kitchen and leaned down to kiss him again. “You have that look again. I know it’s my turn to cook. I can’t help the way things fall sometimes, Cory. School comes first. Didn’t we agree on that?” She ran her fingers lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. Her touch still made his blood warm. “Why don’t you order some Chinese food?”

Last time she’d called in an order, it had cost him thirty bucks. It wasn’t the money that bothered him. It was the principle. “I think I’ll go out and have some pizza.”

Straightening, she grimaced. “Whatever you want,” she said with a shrug.

He knew she didn’t like pizza. Whenever he ordered it, she ate it grudgingly, pressing a paper towel over her slice to soak up the grease. “I need my pencil,” he said as she headed toward the doorway again.

“What a grouch.” She took it from behind her ear and tossed it onto the table.

Sitting alone at the kitchen table, he wondered how it was possible to be so crazy about someone and still feel things weren’t quite right.

Something was askew.

Raking a hand through his hair, he stood up. He didn’t have time to think about his relationship with Ruth right now. He needed to figure out what he was going to do about his report. Snatching the telephone book, he slammed it on the table and flipped it open to the yellow pages. There was a long list of charity organizations offering services to seniors. He spent the rest of the afternoon calling them and asking questions until he found the one that might suit his purposes.

“It’s wonderful that you’re interested in volunteering, Mr. Solsek,” the lady on the other end of the line said. “We have very few college students among our ranks. Of course, you’ll need to come down for a personal interview, and we have forms for you to fill out. You’ll also need to take a weekend orientation class. Do you have a CPR certificate?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, stifling his irritation. Personal interview? Forms? Orientation classes? Just to volunteer to take some old lady to the bank or grocery store?

Jotting down the pertinent information, Corban gave a deep sigh.
A pox on you, Professor Webster, for getting me into this!

“You will do no such thing, Anne-Lynn! What ever made you even consider anything so utterly ridiculous?” Nora was positively trembling. Just when she thought everything was perfect, her daughter threw a monkey wrench into the works. Well, she wouldn’t have it! Everything was going to move forward as planned.

“I’ve tried to tell you how important—”

“I’m not going to listen, Annie.” Nora rose from the table, picking up her cup and saucer. They rattled, revealing her lack of control. She forcefully steadied her hands and carried the dishes to the tiled sink counter, setting them down carefully. “You can just call Susan and tell her you’ve come to your senses.”

“Mom, please. I’ve thought it all through very carefully—”

“I said
no
!” Nora refused to look at her daughter. She didn’t want to see how pale she was, how pleading her blue eyes could be. Emotional manipulation, that’s all it was. She wouldn’t fall for it. Striving for calm, she rinsed the cup and saucer, opened the dishwasher, and placed them carefully on the rack. “You’re going to Wellesley. That’s been decided.”

“You decided, Mom, I didn’t.”

Nora slammed the dishwasher door at the quiet comment and turned to glare at her daughter. “Someone has to have a little common sense. For once, even your father agreed. Didn’t he tell you a degree from a prestigious college like Wellesley will open doors for you?”

“He said Cal would do the same.”

“Oh,
Cal
. Just because he went there.”

“Dad said he wants me to do what will make me happy.”

Nora’s heart pounded in anger. How dare he undo all her work. Just once couldn’t he think of someone besides himself? The only reason he wanted Annie to go to Cal was to keep her on the West Coast. “He wants your best, and I don’t? Is that what he’s implying? Well, he’s wrong! Love means you want
the best
for someone.”

“This is best, Mom. I have a job. I’ll be able to make it on my own.”

“As a waitress. Earning minimum wage. You’re so naive.”

“I know I won’t be living as comfortably as I do here with you and Fred, but I’ll have a place of my own—”

“Shared by a hippie—”

“. . . and food and—”

“Do you think I’ve sent you to the best private schools so you can wait tables? Do you have any idea how much it’s cost to educate you? Music lessons, dancing lessons, gymnastics lessons, deportment classes, modeling classes, cheerleading camps. I’ve spent thousands of dollars, not to mention thousands of hours of
my
time, bringing you up with the best of everything so that you would have the opportunities I
never
had. I’ve sacrificed for you and your brother.”

“Mom, that’s not fair—”

“You’re right. It’s not fair.
To me.
You will not go off and live in San Francisco like a hippie in that cheap little flat of Susan’s. You are not tossing your opportunity to go to Wellesley to the wind just so you can take some art classes. If you had any real talent, don’t you think I would have sent you to Paris to study?”