Getting Some Of Her Own (13 page)

The words were as daggers in her heart. Of course, Lucas would want children. However, her feelings about him were her own business, so she neither affirmed nor denied an interest in him. Instead, she said, “Didn't you and Kix discuss children before you married?”

“That's part of the problem; he asked if I would, and I said yes, but I would have said most anything he wanted to hear.” She took out a linen handkerchief and blew her nose. “Susan, if I don't get pregnant, he's going to leave me. He deserves better than I've given him. A lot better.”

“Perhaps you both deserve better. Don't underrate yourself or what you mean to him, Cassie.”

Cassie smiled through her unshed tears. “Thanks, Susan. I'm sorry I dumped on you, but you can't imagine what a weight this is. Sometimes, I feel as if I'll go bonkers.”

Back in her shop, Susan mused over her conversation with Cassie. Would the woman risk losing something so precious because she couldn't contemplate doing what to most women came naturally?
If only she knew how gladly I'd change her prospects for childbearing with mine.
At three o'clock, she closed the shop, got into her BMW and headed for Wade School to begin the most enjoyable hour of her day.

Driving past Children's Village, a store that specialized in clothing for children six and younger, Susan impulsively stopped in front of the store, put a quarter in the parking meter and went inside. Almost at once, she saw a blue knitted cap, scarf and mitten set that she thought would become Rudy.

Why can't I buy it for her?
she thought.
I won't hurt anyone, and Rudy doesn't have a hat or mittens.

“May I help you, madam?” an eager salesperson asked her.

“How do you think this would look with that red coat over there?” She pointed to the same red coat she bought for Rudy.

“It will look lovely.”

“I think so too, and I'll take it.” She put the set unwrapped in her briefcase, aware of the consequences if Lucas saw her carrying a package with Children's Village printed on it. She found a gray sleeveless sweater for Nathan and rushed back to her car. Rudy and Nathan waited outside her classroom door as usual and ran to greet her as she entered the school's front door. She hugged them both, opened her briefcase, put the cap and scarf on Rudy, handed her the gloves and gave Nathan his sweater. The children hugged and kissed her, giggled and danced with joy. When she thought her heart would burst with happiness, she straightened up and looked into the eyes of Lucas Hamilton.

 

 

Lucas neither smiled nor spoke to Susan, but patted the children's shoulders and walked rapidly to his office. She couldn't know the drama of his life from nine o'clock that morning until the minute he found her breaking the Department of Education's rules, drama that he had raced to Wade School to share with her. He closed the door, sat down at the principal's desk, leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes and relived those awesome moments.

As he was about to enter General Hospital, he stepped away from the door and gazed at the world around him, aware that no matter how their meeting went, when he stepped out of that hospital, his life would have changed. At the desk, he asked for a visitor's pass to suite A-6, identified himself and got the pass. Why didn't he feel anything? Not happiness, sadness, nervousness, or anger. Nothing. He knocked on the door, didn't hear an answer, cracked the door and peeped in.

“Come in.” The voice was strong enough. He walked in, looked toward the bed and the man who was half sitting and half lying in it. He walked over to the man who sired him.

“I'm Lucas Hamilton. Why do you want to see me?” Of all the words he might have uttered, those were perhaps the most benign. They were also the most impersonal, without any reference to the man's health and well-being.

“I'm Calvin Jackson,” the man said. “Have a seat. This may take a while.”

Lucas nearly laughed. He'd said only ten words, and Calvin Jackson had sized him up as cut and dried. No nonsense. Lucas was a replica of the man who sired him. He sat in the only available chair, crossed his knees and leaned back, comfortable and projecting it.

It was his father's turn to be amused, and he half laughed. “You're so damned much like me that it's frightening, and I'm not only talking about your looks, height and bearing. It's like watching myself. Don't sit there and give the impression that you have nothing to say to me. If I wasn't in this bed, you'd probably consider slugging me.”

“Why do you think I still won't do it?” Lucas shrugged. “You're right. It wouldn't be the least bit gratifying. I have nothing to say to you until you say something to me, and I'm sure you appreciate the value of time.”

“You're a gentleman. I know all about you. I have a box this high”—with both hands he suggested an interval of about thirty inches—“full of clippings, photographs, and letters about you and the things you've done. They are among my most precious possessions.”

That hadn't moved him. “So, what does that tell me?”

Calvin braced his hands on the bed and propped himself up further. “I'd be the last one to speak to you against Noreen. I should have stayed away from her, but I didn't. I loved her.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I was older and wiser, and I knew better than she the consequences.”

“But you took advantage of her anyway.”

“Yes, and she told me that if I ever contacted you for any reason, she would tell my wife and my daughters everything about our affair and about you. I was the age you are now—though not as far advanced—building a name for myself in Danville, and I didn't want to break up my family. So, like a fool, I stayed away from you.”

“I didn't know you had any other children. Where are your wife and daughters now?”

“We'll get to them later. A few weeks ago, I got tired of the secret and told them about Noreen and about you. I had to tell them, because of what I want to do now. I could have done it years ago, because Marcie—my wife—said that she had been suspicious of Noreen and me and that the first time she saw your picture in the paper, she guessed. And to think I let all those years pass without knowing you or contributing in any way to your growth and development. Believe me, I am sorry. I would be so proud of you, if I had the right.”

Lucas looked his father in the eye. “Don't think for a second that I'm a victim. I'm not. And yes, there have been times when I wanted to dismember you, but I resented my mother more than you, because she told me that she forbade you to see me and moved away from Danville so that you and I wouldn't be near each other. I could have contacted you, but doing so never once entered my mind.” He rested both feet on the floor, leaned forward and covered his knees with his hands. “I always planned to get my revenge by besting you at what you do best, and without any help from you.”

“And you're practically there, if you're not actually ahead of me.”

Lucas looked at his watch. “We've talked a long time, but you haven't told me why you wanted to see me.”

“I need a spinal operation that will incapacitate me for months, maybe years, and I want you to run my business enterprises.”

“
What?
You can't be serious. What about your daughters? Why can't they do it?”

“Neither of them has ever showed the least interest in business. Besides, a woman's place is in the home, and they're both married . . . and childless, I may add.”

“A woman's place is in the home? You're a century behind the times. Some of the Fortune Five Hundred's top CEOs in this country are women, and I say right on.”

“We disagree, but that isn't important. Will you do it?”

“I don't have time. I'm focusing on a new development opposite Pine Tree Park, and I want it to be outstanding for its class. I haven't finished the design.”

“But what you've done is fantastic, miles ahead of Scenic Gardens. You can do it. You'll have ample staff who know their jobs, but they need guidance.”

“What will your daughters say? I get two half sisters who'll hate my guts before they meet me. I don't like it.”

Calvin took the pitcher from his night table and poured a glass of water for himself. “My daughters are not in the habit of disobeying or confronting me. They've always been happy to accept the environment of wealth that I provide for them, and they don't question the source.”

He stared at the man whose supine position in a hospital bed in no way diminished his aura of authority. “Pretty authoritarian, aren't you? I imagine you know that doesn't work with me.”

“Will you do it? I'll give you the reins, and you'll be amply compensated.”

Imagine being at the helm of Jackson Enterprises, a conglomeration of real estate holdings, media outlets and transport facilities. Wasn't it rightfully his duty and opportunity? “What will you do if I refuse? I have to look after my own business.”

“Hire an architect to assist you.”

Pride suffused him for he could truthfully say to Calvin Jackson, “I have an assistant, but I'm the chief architect, and I develop the original plans from my own ideas. I'll think about it.”

“And some award-winning ideas you've produced, too. I want you to do more than think about it. My operation is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Only God knows whether I will survive it. I've drawn up a contract, and all my lawyer has to do is type your name in the appropriate place. This is important, Lucas. I am not trying to make amends; in my view, that isn't possible. I want to preserve what I've worked so hard for over the last forty-six years, and you will do that, and more.”

“How do you know that I wouldn't deliberately destroy it?”

When Calvin Jackson laughed disparagingly, Lucas had to wonder at the power of human genes. How frequently he allowed his laugh to make an unspoken statement. “You're too proud. Your ego would drive you to succeed if only to show me that you're as capable as I am, or more so. I'm not concerned about that.”

Lucas thought of his mother and what her reaction might be if he told her about his meeting with his father and what his father had offered him. Would she be angry and distressed if he told her that he wanted to accept the challenge of managing one of the most successful African American conglomerates in the country? He leaned back in the chair and gazed at his father. Both of his parents had let him down. He had succeeded beyond his dreams, and he would go farther. His mother lived in a house that he designed and built for her, and he gave her a sizeable monthly stipend. He didn't owe either of his parents anything.

“Do you have a copy of the contract here?”

Calvin reached over, opened the drawer of the table beside his bed, grimacing as if in pain. “It's in there.” He pointed to the drawer.

He walked over to his father's bedside, gazed down at him for a full minute during which their gazes locked. He hadn't counted on the emotion that welled up in him, and he couldn't describe the feeling. He did know at that moment that he was not immune to his father, to his evident pain or to what could happen to him. He picked up the paper, went back to his chair and sat down to read the contract.

“Well?” Calvin said when he folded the paper. “What's the verdict?”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Surely, you don't think my decision is contingent upon the terms of this contract. Far from it. Money has nothing to do with it, though you're dangling a sizeable amount of it. You're giving me carte blanche. I answer to no one, and I return the company to you whenever you ask for it, but in not less than one year. Why the guarantee of a year?”

“Because you can't accomplish anything in less time. If you take the job, what will you do first?”

He was testing him. Lucas knew his smile said that the question pleased him. “Announce the appointment and call a meeting of all unit heads and assistant heads.”

“You're a smart man. If you have the assistants and deputies there, the chiefs can't mislead them. What do you say, Lucas? I would be so relieved and content knowing that it's in your hands.”

He got up, walked over to his father for the second time and looked down at him. “All right. I'm obligating myself to do this because the role is rightfully mine, and not for any other reason.”

Calvin Jackson's face bloomed into a smile as he extended his hand. “That's all I need to hear.” When Lucas grasped the proffered hand, he knew that it was more than a handshake. For the first time in his life, he was touching his father, feeling the warmth of his flesh, and he wondered if his father felt the tremors that raced through him.

“This is one of the happiest days of my life,” Calvin said. “Do you have a pen?” He took the pen Lucas handed him, wrote the name of his son in the proper place and handed Lucas the contract. “Sign it, please.” Lucas signed the three copies and handed them to Calvin who also signed them.

“You're head of Jackson Enterprises, and I can give in to this awful pain and get some morphine or something to ease it.”

“Do you want me to ring for a nurse?” Lucas asked him, stunned that the man showed no sign of discomfort except when he reached over to open the drawer.

“I have a pill here,” he said, “but I couldn't take it because I didn't know when you would come, and I didn't want to be in a stupor when you got here.”

Lucas poured a glass of water and handed it to him, aware that it was the first thing he had ever done for his father. “Take it now.”

Calvin's eyes widened and a half smile flashed across his face. “You're not bad at authoritativeness yourself.” He swallowed the pill. “Your office is in the Jackson Building at 18 Tiner Street, about four blocks from here. Your secretary, Miriam Payne, will give you the folder that I prepared for you.”