Bad Dad. Alice Shane
had joined her in the living room where she was curled up on a couch, a New Yorker in her lap, gazing out of the sliding glass doors at the water. How she loved this house, with its magnificent view of the ocean and surrounding sand dunes.
“Well, she can’t be too much of a dope – she was clever enough to snag a guy from a rich family,” Margo said. “She probably figured sooner or later she’d cash in. So what else did he have to say? You were on the phone with him for almost an hour.”
“We always had long talks on the telephone when he was away at boarding school and when I was traveling – we’d talk about the things fathers and sons like to discuss. He still likes to go hunting and fishing, he told me,” Lester said defensively.
“C’mon, Lester. I bet he asked you for money. Right?”
“Well, he did say things are tough – he only makes $15.00 an hour, and Mary Lou can’t do anything. Doesn’t work. Doesn’t have any skills. Stays home – a housefrau,” Lester said, his light blue eyes flickering oddly. “She got on the phone and did a lot of bragging about little Charlie and the A’s he gets in school. She sounds like a proud mamma, which is a good thing, I suppose, “ Lester said.
So they did want money. And they’re using the kid as a bargaining chip. It didn’t surprise her. But knowing that Lester would be agitated if she shared these cynical thoughts, Margo swallowed her words.
“Ok, I might as well tell you,” Lester said after a long pause. “Mary Lou got on the phone and asked for a loan. Wants $4500. Said Danny wasn’t expecting her to ask, but decided to take the bull by the horns. They need it for a down payment on a new pickup truck.”
“My! How cheeky! And your son says she’s got a high IQ? Well, I would say so!,” Margo said, unable to control her sarcasm. “She wants a loan? Shorthand for a handout. Let’s not forget she grew up on welfare – she’s conditioned to saying ‘gimme’ without a modicum of diplomacy or bothering to acquire job skills or an education.”
“Ok, ok. She’s a conniver. No doubt about that – she offered to sell her collection of Barbie Dolls to pay us back.” He snickered self-consciously, looking stupidly sheepish, Margo thought. He may have an MBA from Harvard, but Ms. Trailer Trash knows how to play him.
“She offered to sell her Barbie Doll collection? I don’t believe it! I bet you felt sorry for the poor thing and told her not to worry her empty little head about it. Right?”
”I didn’t say anything, just told her I’d discuss it with you,” Lester said, suddenly feeling tired, older.
“Danny told me how Gloria died. When they didn’t hear from her for a few days, they drove over to her house and found her in the bathroom – dead. She must have hit her head on the edge of the bathtub. The coroner said it was diabetic shock, with alcoholism thrown in. She never did take her shots on a regular basis. I always had to keep after her about it.”
“Well, you got your wish. She’s not around to torture you with lawsuits anymore,” Margo responded.
“That’s for sure,” he said, rising from the couch. His conversation with Danny after so many years was a relief and stressful at the same time.
Hearing that redneck drawl made him feel as if he were talking to a stranger, Lester reflected. He had invested so much of himself in this hapless son – from a financial as well as emotional perspective.
He nostalgically recalled his visits with Danny at Bridgefield Academy during football season, their campouts in Wyoming where he taught the boy how to shoot antelope and fish for trout. These memories suddenly made Lester feel eager to reconnect with him. Yet, Margo’s lack of support, was wearing him down. He wished she’d drop the sarcasm. Normally he enjoyed her smart-assed, edgy humor and sharp observations that cut through all the crap, but it was difficult for him to deal with her now.
He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “I think I’ll jump into the Jacuzzi for a while and watch TV he said. “Wanna join me?”
Margo was pleased with the invitation, suddenly grateful that he needed her. When was the last time they had sex? Five, six days ago? Maybe that’s why she was feeling irritable. She always maintained a mental record of their sexual activity – her idea of a spread sheet. But she needed more than sex now. She hoped he would hold her, reassure her that all would be well, that she had nothing to fear.
CHAPTER 11
“Sometimes I wonder about you, Mary Lou! You’ve never met my father. It’s the first time we’ve spoken in five years, and right off the bat you’re asking him for $4500! I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that! I don’t even know how you came up with that figure! The down payment is $2500, not $4500!” Danny said, trying to contain his exasperation.
She was such a greedy little bitch. He wouldn’t be surprised if his father refused to come across with the moolah, knowing he would be offended by the directness of such an approach.
Sometimes he hated Mary Lou and now was one of those times. He reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned the sound of the TV up so their neighbors wouldn’t hear them argue. The walls of their mobile home were thin. If they didn’t keep their voices down, the busybodies next door would hear everything.
Mary Lou curled her legs tightly under her body and arched her back, a position that emphasized her ample breasts. She leaned into the leather sofa they had bought at a yard sale.
“What’s the difference?” she said, brushing strands of long blonde hair away from her face and behind her shoulders. Dark brown roots were in evidence. She was due for a touchup at a local beauty school where the tab would be only $7.00 plus a small tip – cheaper than buying one of those Clairol bleaching kits.
“Your daddy is so rich, what’s $4500 to him? I was just tryin’ to help us. Sometimes you ain’t aggressive enough – he knows how to make big money. Why can’t you? Besides, he respects me for being so forthright about our predicament. I could tell when we spoke on the ‘phone. I’m sure he’ll come up with the money – he sounds like a nice man. Like I said, $4500 ain’t nothin’ to him.”
Mary Lou leaned over to play with a strand of his hair, but he backed away from this conciliatory gesture. At 28, he was starting to bald and felt self conscious about it. Her comments about his not making enough money rankled him. Her pathetic efforts to elicit money from his father were infuriating. Her fractured grammar echoed harshly in his ears.
“Just because my father’s rich doesn’t mean he’s going to throw money at us,” Danny said sharply. “ He inherited a lot and made millions more on his own because he works his ass off. But he watches every penny. My mother hated him for it. She thought that just because he was rich, he’d be a sucker. He’s the kind of guy who rarely talks about money even though he devotes his life to making it. You’ve got to be subtle when discussing finances with him – not too obvious, otherwise he’ll think you’re being pushy. That’s just the way he is; that’s how rich people are. They’re not interested in anyone else’s financial needs.”
Mary Lou’s face folded into an expression of hurt and disappointment, as if she was about to cry. “Gosh, I’m sorry sweetheart. I thought I was helpin’ us by askin’ for the $4500 – I figured the extra money would come in handy,” she explained, moving to the other side of the sofa, her breasts retreating into her chest. “I guess it looks like I’ll really have to sell those dolls – I wonder how much I can get for them?”
“Forget the fucking dolls! You’re ridiculous! I can see Dad laughing his head off at that suggestion. He’s not going to fall for such a harebrained scheme. Besides, he knows that a down payment wouldn’t be $4500! I know you mean well, Mary Lou, but I don’t want you to be disappointed or to hate him if he doesn’t come across with the dough.”
Danny wondered what Margo thought about all this, what kind of woman she was, whether his father’s marriage to her had changed him. Mary Lou had complained that she sounded ‘cold, conniving, downright