Vintage Love (254 page)

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Authors: Clarissa Ross

Tags: #romance, #classic

BOOK: Vintage Love
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Judith promised that she wouldn’t and hurried up to wash. It had been a long, wearying day, and she was feeling exhausted and not very hungry. But knowing that her mother had probably been working hard all afternoon to get the meal ready, she made up her mind to show some enthusiasm even if it was spurious.

When she seated herself at the table, her mother at once began to question her. “I’ve been hearing about some special petition Senator Lafferty is presenting. It’s been on television all day. He’s heading a delegation calling on the city council this evening. It has something to do with the bridge, hasn’t it?”

Judith purposely busied herself buttering a biscuit. “These look just too good.”

“It has something to do with the bridge, hasn’t it?” her mother repeated in a querulous voice.

Judith glanced across the table with an expression of resignation. “I really can’t tell you much about it yet, Mother,” she said. “Senator Lafferty is trying to cause some trouble and delay the bridge.”

Millicent’s pale face under the lifeless, frizzled brown hair showed annoyance. “But you must know all the details! You’re Alan Eraser’s secretary, and he’s chairman of the bridge authority.”

Judith sipped her juice and tried to control her own rising anger. If only her mother would give her a few minutes to enjoy the meal! She said, “We don’t know much more than you.”

Millicent tossed her head. “Of course if you feel you can’t trust your own mother, I suppose you have a right to keep quiet.”

“It’s not that!”

“I can’t imagine why else you’d refuse to tell me anything,” Millicent said tartly. “Just like your father. He wouldn’t ever discuss his business with me, and look where it landed him!”

“Please don’t drag Father into this,” Judith pleaded. “Whenever you want to hurt me, you bring up his name.”

“Touchy! But you don’t mind hurting my feelings with your silence.”

“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” Judith protested. “Anything I’d tell you now would be nothing more than guesses. And they mightn’t be right at that. When I’m sure of my facts, I’ll be glad to tell you what I know.”

“I’m used to being treated like a child,” her mother said with exaggerated resignation, “first by your father and now by you.”

Judith said, “Brandon Fraser was inquiring about you today.”

The prematurely withered face took on a pleased smile. “Was he really?”

“Yes. We had quite a long chat at noon. And he seemed in quite a nostalgic mood.”

“And what did he say about me?” Millicent asked eagerly.

Judith held back a smile. “He inquired about your health and said he missed seeing you, that you should go out more often.”

Millicent sighed. “I wouldn’t want him to take a close look at me now. I’ve faded to nothing since all the trouble and your father’s death.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything like that to him. I told him you hadn’t been feeling yourself, but you hoped to get around again this summer.”

Her mother sighed pensively. “I only wish that was true.”

“You could at least work in the back garden,” Judith suggested. “It would give you some air and sunshine. You needn’t do much. And when neighbors came by, you’d have a chance to chat with them informally, pick up some old threads of friendship.”

Her mother assumed an attitude of dejection, lingering over her plate. “I haven’t wanted to. You know that. I feel they are all staring at me, whispering about me, talking about your father’s bankruptcy, wondering how we are making ends meet!”

“That’s all in your mind,” Judith said firmly. “I have to meet the public, and so should you.”

“You’re different!” her mother protested. “You’re not at all sensitive. You take after your father’s people.”

Judith bent over her plate to conceal her annoyance. “I still say Brandon Fraser showed interest in you, and you should be pleased.”

“I am.”

“He also brought up the fact that we had lived close to each other for a number of years.”

“That is true,” her mother said happily. “The Melroses and the Frasers were good friends ages ago, long before your father and I came to live here.”

“He doesn’t seem too happy a man,” Judith went on. “He keeps mourning for Brian. I should think that would be over by now.”

Her mother frowned. “Brandon Fraser is not that type, my dear. We members of fine old families take the loss of an elder son as a devastating blow. It is quite understandable that he should grieve.”

“But he is so lucky to have a son like Alan!”

“I have no doubt Alan is a fine boy,” her mother agreed. “But still, he does not take the place in his father’s heart and hopes of poor Brian.”

“So it seems,” Judith said disconsolately.

“It seems to me,” her mother said with a certain coyness, “that Brandon Fraser must be showing quite an interest in you.”

“Not really. He just happened to come into the office.”

Her mother’s eyes were bright and knowing. “But he did talk to you about family. And I’m sure he’s wondering the same thing as I am: why you and Alan don’t realize how right you are for each other!”

Judith groaned. “Oh, Mother, don’t start that again.”

“I mean it for your own good,” Millicent replied. “After what I saw last night, I know it’s purely your fault if he doesn’t ask you to marry him!”

Judith couldn’t restrain a small burst of hopeless laughter. “Mother, you’re positively mid-Victorian! You peek out through the curtains when you have no right to and see a man kissing me, and at once you think we should be married.”

“It showed he’s fond of you!” Millicent said stubbornly.

“All right, so we like each other!” Judith admitted. “And he kissed me good night on the doorstep. You surely don’t think it was anything more than a polite gesture, like shaking hands or wishing me luck!”

“It meant a good deal more in my day,” her mother said primly.

“Honestly,” Judith said in despair, “I sometimes think you stepped right out of the pages of Godey’s Lady’s Book into the twentieth century. What do you think a kiss means today?”

Millicent got up indignantly and gathered the dirty plates. “I have no doubt my ideas are old-fashioned and out of date. But I would much rather live by my standards than by those of your generation, which engages in all kinds of degrading acts in the back seats of cars in drive-in theatres!” She retreated to the kitchen in a rage.

“I haven’t been to a drive-in more than a half-dozen times in my life,” Judith said angrily. “And at least a couple of times I went with girl friends. It happens I don’t care for drive-ins. And anyway, they’re not nearly as bad as you say they are. I don’t suppose young people of your generation ever parked on side roads in model A Fords or some other kind of cars! You’re being unfair!”

Millicent responded by giving her the silent treatment. It was her favorite means of showing Judith she couldn’t be reasoned with. Judith silently accepted her dessert and went along with her mother’s new mood. It was the simplest way.

It was over coffee that Millicent finally chose to find her voice and say, “I should think you’d be needed at that meeting tonight.”

Judith said, “I’m not needed, but I do feel I should be there to hear what goes on.”

“Then why don’t you go?”

Judith was surprised at her mother’s reaction. Usually Millicent was anxious to have her stay home. With a questioning glance, she said, “Do you think I ought to?”

“Yes, I do,” Millicent said definitely. “And I’m sure Alan Fraser would appreciate it as well.”

Judith gave her mother a reproving smile. “You’re not trying to match-make again?”

“Of course not,” her mother said in a prim voice. “I’m more concerned about your job.”

Judith sat back with a sigh. “It’s at times like this I wish we still had a car,” she said. “If I hurry, I guess I can catch the quarter-to-eight bus.”

“Surely you can afford a taxi for an occasion like this,” her mother said. “Then you won’t have to rush so.”

Judith laughed. “You’re right! I’m so used to pinching pennies I’ve eliminated taxis from my world. But tonight shall be an exception.”

“Take one home as well,” her mother said, “unless someone you know offers you a drive back. I don’t want you walking up the dark hill from the bus stop alone.”

Judith got up, went over and kissed her mother affectionately on the forehead. “Very well, Mother. And mind you don’t worry!”

Millicent called after her as she started upstairs, “I’ll certainly expect a little more information from you than you were able to give me earlier tonight when you get back.”

When Judith got out of the taxi in front of the courthouse, she saw there were a large number of cars parked there. Without a doubt the council meeting had attracted a large crowd. Since it was close to eight, it was almost time for it to begin.

She hurried up the winding stairway to the top floor of the old building where the council meetings were held. As she neared the top, she was able to hear a murmur of voices from the crowded room. She edged her way in and saw that the spectators’ benches were crowded. A friendly-faced young man in working clothes smiled at her and rose to give her his seat at the end of the bench nearest the door. Judith nodded her thanks and sat down.

The faces near her were mostly male and all strangers. There were a few older women scattered through the crowd, and she supposed these would be members of the real estate association. As she cast her eyes further afield in her survey of the room, she saw a serious-faced Alan seated to the right and near the front.

Then the council meeting began, and her attention was riveted to the happenings in the front of the big room. Mayor Jim Devlin conducted the meeting with an authority she found revealing in the normally easygoing man. There were a number of routine items before the matter that concerned her most was brought up.

She saw Senator Lafferty rise, a solemn expression on his pouting, bloated face as he began to read from his petition in his resonant courtroom voice. The Mayor stared gloomily at his desk top during the performance, and not until the Senator had finished and placed the petition on his desk did Devlin turn to the members of the council seated in a semicircle around him and say, “You have heard this petition. What is your pleasure, gentlemen?”

A sour-faced councilman with thick glasses was the first to speak up in a nasal twang. He asked, “Am I to understand the Senator claims bad faith toward the North End of the city in the way the bridge plans have been developed? And is he asking us to delay further construction until the matter is threshed over again?”

“That is essentially it,” Mayor Devlin conceded.

The sour-faced councilman threw up his hands indignantly. “Worst kind of nonsense I’ve ever heard. If he wants to wreck the bridge, why doesn’t he toss a bomb at it and get it over with!”

This brought laughter, boos and general confusion. In the melee of voices no one could be heard, and Mayor Devlin banged his gavel a number of times for silence.

Senator Lafferty was quickly on his feet, a supercilious smile on his florid alcoholic’s face. “The councilman is making the issue too simple,” he said in his easy way. “The minutes of earlier council meetings will show that a spur to the North End was considered and the public was not properly notified when the design of the bridge was decided on without that vital ingress to this important section of our fair city. This room is filled with taxpayers who will suffer if the completion of the bridge is rushed through and their welfare not considered.”

There was a roar of approval and clapping from the section of the taxpayers’ association gathered near the front of the room, and the Senator bowed his appreciation and sat down, smiling.

Mayor Devlin cleared his throat. “I believe the public was properly notified of the approved design of the bridge,” he said. “The chairman of the bridge authority is in the room. Would he please stand and clarify this point?”

Alan quickly rose, and there was a murmuring from the taxpayers’ group. He hesitated a moment for silence and then, addressing the mayor, said, “News items clearly indicated the final design of the bridge. We showed models of it in several locations, including one of the large department stories. There were programs concerning it on both radio and television. I feel we did all we could to let the citizens know what was happening.”

As he sat down, various members of the council took up the debate. It became a heated one, and it was all the Mayor could do to keep reasonable order. As the different councilmen offered their opinions, it was easy for Judith to pick out those favoring the S.C. North interests. They lost no time in agreeing with the Senator that he was presenting a just complaint.

Senator Lafferty sprang to his feet again and in his most unctuous tone said, “I believe it would be possible for us to argue the various points for days and reach no agreement. I submit that an outside authority should look into this complaint and make an objective decision. Therefore, let us turn it over to the state and have a Governor’s committee say whether or not the basic design of the bridge should be changed to include a North End spur.”

There were cheers and loud applause and a stamping that made the old building tremble. Judith felt she could shed tears of frustration and, glancing at Alan, saw that he’d gone quite pale. It wasn’t hard to judge the tenor of the meting. The Senator had played his wily game for S.C. North well, and it seemed that everything the absent Fred Harvey and the Mayor had predicted was going to happen.

Mayor Devlin pounded his gavel for order. “I guess we have reached the point where this calls for a vote,” he said in a grim voice.

Judith watched tensely as the vote was taken. It was seven to four in favor of turning the problem over to the state. It seemed that S. C. North and his front, as represented by Senator Lafferty and the North End Real Estate Owners Association, had won this round. The meeting was declared adjourned, and Judith rose, to be jostled by the surging crowd as she headed toward the stairs in a depressed state of mind.

The crowd was an unruly one, and she found herself pushed forward toward the stairs in a frightening way. It was as if she were being propelled ahead by an angry wave. The stairs were steep, and she became afraid that she might stumble and be trampled on by the heedless group surging around her.

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