Second Time Around (34 page)

The newest infraction was the menu—or rather the lack of the menu. He’d told her to bring it by after she was through at the hospital. That had been hours ago. No menu. No Millie.

But then… Hope surfaced as he remembered he had been gone for an hour. Maybe she’d brought it by and left it with Dina. He buzzed her on the intercom. “Come in here a moment, please.”

Within seconds, she was at the door. “Yes, sir?”

“Did Millie bring a menu by while I was gone?”

“Our menu?”

He didn’t like her presumption. “Actually, it’s my menu. For my dinner.”

She blushed. “No, sir. I haven’t seen a thing. Though I
was
in the file room a good portion of time.”

“Never mind. Thank you.”

He shoved himself away from the desk, shut off his adding machine, and put on his coat.

He had to nip this in the bud. Now.

Rhonda Reynolds answered the door. “Hello, David. Were we expecting you for dinner?”

“No, no, you weren’t.” He looked past her into the house. “I need to talk to Millie.”

“Is something wrong?”

Millie came out of the kitchen. “David. I didn’t expect you—

He strode past Rhonda. “How dare you defy me!”

Millie pulled up. “What are you talking about?”

He hated when she acted innocent. She was far from innocent. With each new day that was becoming stunningly clear.

Rhonda sidled past them, moving toward the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He took Millie by the arm and pulled her into the parlor.

“Let go of me!”

“Then tell me why you didn’t bring the menu by the office like I asked you to.”

“I did bring it by. I left it on your desk.”

He laughed, incredulous. “The fact you can stand there and lie to my face…”

“I’m not lying. I brought it in. Right after I left work. Just like you asked.”

“There was no menu on my desk.”

She paced between him and the piano. “Your secretary wasn’t at her desk, so I put it right where you could see it.”

He shook his head. There had been no menu. “Why are you lying to me?”

She faced him. “Why would I lie?” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe your girlfriend took it.”

“Why would Miss Edmonds take a menu?” That had come out wrong. “I mean—”

She made a massaging motion with her fingers. “I can think of ten reasons why. She’s after you.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Don’t you be absurd. And don’t be blind. That woman has her sights set on you.” She stepped closer. “Think about it. Wouldn’t it be to her advantage to cause trouble between us?”

The front door opened and Ray came in. “What’s going on? I could hear you from the driveway.”

David jumped in, taking the offensive. “Your daughter continues to defy me at every turn.”

Millie’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true.”

Ray turned to his daughter. “I thought I told you to behave, to accept David’s generous direction as he takes time away from the hard work he already does for the company to help give you the best wedding you—”

“This has nothing to do with the wedding, Father. And David’s wrong. He asked me to do something and I did it.”

“Then where’s the menu?” David asked.

She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know! Like I said, ask your precious Miss Edmonds where it is.”

“What does Miss Edmonds have to do with this?”

Millie’s look was smug. “I caught her giving David a back massage. She likes him—way more than an employee should like a boss.”

Ray shook his head. “I can’t believe that. Miss Edmonds is a sweet girl. She’s hardly the aggressive type. You must be mistaken.”

“Why must
I
be mistaken?” Millie yelled. “I’m your daughter. Why can’t you support me? Believe me?”

“Calm down, Millie. You’re being irrational.”

She stood between them, then suddenly sucked in a breath. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I can’t stand this. The two of you are suffocating me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her father said. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Now be a good girl, apologize to David, give him the menu—or whatever it is he needs—and then go tell your mother I’ll be ready for dinner in five minutes. I’m going to change.”

He went upstairs. It was nice to have Ray on his side. David took a seat in the wing chair by the window. “So?”

Millie just stood there in the middle of the room. Her head shook back and forth like a pendulum. It was as if she was in a daze. What was wrong with her?

“I’m waiting.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she marched to the front door, grabbing her jacket off the rack as she passed. Her purse toppled to the floor, spilling its contents, but it was as if she didn’t see. Or care. She stepped over it and opened the front door. “I’m going for a walk.”

David was content to let her go. Good riddance. She was being impossible. And if she wouldn’t even obey her father…

But he did get up to pick up the mess of the purse. As he was putting the items back, he saw an odd key. It was small and had a plastic numbered bobble on it:
24.

He heard Ray at the top of the stairs. He pocketed the key and hung up the purse.

FOURTEEN

Take your evil deeds out of my sight!
Stop doing wrong, learn to do right!

Isaiah 1:16-17

Athens—1976

On Monday morning, Vanessa tried to be as quiet as she could getting dressed. She knew Connie didn’t have a class until ten thirty. She, herself, didn’t have a class for hours. The sun was just starting to come up.

She accidentally dropped her brush on the floor.

Connie stirred and opened one eye, saw Vanessa, then checked her clock. “What are you doing? It’s not even seven.”

Vanessa took advantage of her roommate being awake and put her makeup away in its tray. “I have some errands to run.” She gathered her books and purse before Connie could ask more. “Go back to sleep.”

Connie pulled the blanket over her shoulder and complied.

It had taken Vanessa forty-five minutes to weave her way around campus to the office of each of her professors. She taped the final note on the final door.

There. Step one completed.

She heard footsteps and turned to see Professor Harler approach. “Miss Pruitt?”

She pulled the note from the door. “Good morning, Professor. I was just leaving you a note.”

“Then come inside and give it to me personally.” He put a key in the lock and went in.

Vanessa hesitated, her resolve weakening. Step one, distributing notes to each of her teachers, asking for a meeting, was hard enough. But to suddenly zoom on to step two, the actual meeting, without the proper psyching herself up for it…

Professor Harler settled in at his desk. “Sit, Miss Pruitt.” He extended a hand. “The note, please?”

“Actually, the note isn’t necessary now that you’re here. I was wanting to schedule a meeting with you.”

“Concerning…?”

He wasn’t going to make this easy. Yet maybe it served her right. “I haven’t been doing very well in your class.”

“Why is that?”

She heard her own teeth click together.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Here are the reasons for a student doing poorly.” He used his fingers to count off. “One: The student is dumb. Two: The student is lazy. Three: The student is distracted. Four: The student doesn’t care.” He kept his four fingers on display. “Which one are you?”

Any excuses she might have used broke away like a magnet yanked from its bond.

The professor rocked back in his chair. He clasped his hands across his torso and smiled. “Gotcha, didn’t I?”

It felt good to smile. “Yes, you did.”

“Let’s dissect this a bit.” He held up the four fingers again. “One: stupidity. The truth is very few people are incapable of learning. True, it’s harder for some, but stupidity is usually an excuse used by those who should be claiming reason number two: laziness. A person can achieve most anything through work. Nothing can be achieved through laziness, and dreams die. ‘The sluggard craves and gets nothing, but the desires of the diligent are fully satisfied.’”

Vanessa’s mother had mentioned the necessity for work. About dreams being null and void without it.

“Reason number three: distraction. Distractions are as inevitable as death and taxes. There is always something else to do, someone else needing your attention. The pull of the world can be defined by its distractions. Handle it.”

He balanced an index finger on his pinky finger. “Finally, four: apathy. The most insidious of the four deadly excuses. Indifference is a cancer that will spread from one corner of your life to another. Apathy is the essence of stupidity and produces laziness, which makes you too weak to fend off a total immersion in distractions until they nibble away at what’s left of your life, making you curl into a ball and die.” He lifted his hands and let gravity drop them into his lap. “There you have it. The fate of a person who offers excuses.”

The room fell silent. Professor Harler was looking at her. Waiting. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Excellent.”

“What?”

“If I’ve rendered you mute then I’ve stated my case well, because there are no acceptable excuses for your grades, Miss Pruitt. Your grades are your choice. How you attain the grade you want will vary from teacher to teacher, but the point is,
you
are in control, and sink or swim, it’s your responsibility.” He leveled her with a look. “No one else’s.”

The insinuation made her wonder if her father had contacted him before.

His voice softened. “Here’s the key to doing well in my class, in college, and in life: ‘Be strong and do the work.’ Actually, there
are
enough assignments and tests left to turn this thing around—though it’s best to remember this is not always the case. Time
can
run out.” He stood. “Will there be anything else, Miss Pruitt?”

That about covered it.

The door to the dorm room swung open and Connie and a girlfriend burst inside, dancing and singing “Jive Talking.” Two hustle steps in and they pulled up short. “Vanessa, what are you doing?”

Vanessa turned around in the desk chair. “I’m studying.”

Connie looked at her friend and burst out laughing. Vanessa knew she deserved it. “What brought this on?”

The friend—was her name Suzy?—started doing a hustle step in between the beds. “I don’t want to hear about studying. We’re going dancing at Uncle Sam’s.”

“Wanna come?” Connie opened her tiny closet and changed into a yellow knit top that hugged her curves. “It’s time to boogie down, Vanessa.”

“I can’t boogie down.” She tapped a notebook with a pencil. “I need to buckle down.”

Connie moved her hips. “Let’s party.”

The perfect answer came to mind. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

Connie hesitated a moment, then rushed to Vanessa’s side, putting a hand to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Vanessa laughed. “I’m fine. Go on. Have fun.”

They left her alone.

There. Distraction handled. That wasn’t so hard.