Seasons of Her Life (23 page)

There was no smile on Eve's plain face, no light of excitement in her eyes the way there had been when he had asked Ruby the same thing. She seemed to be weighing his question, mulling it over in her mind as though she weren't sure of what he said. “I don't have anything else to do. I guess it's a good idea.”

“You do!” Calvin gasped in surprise. “I ... I thought ... what you said was ... you hated men. I'm a man.” Jesus, had he really said that aloud?

“You said you hated women. At least we have that in common. I'm not getting any younger,” she said bluntly. “I would like to have a child. You don't seem to fare too well in the female department, so if I'm willing to accept you as you are, then you can accept me.”

“Your family . . .” Calvin said desperately.

“You won't be here, so why worry about them? Their attitudes are their problems, not yours. They're never going to accept you; you have to understand that.”

Calvin's heart pounded in his chest. He had to get out of this. “Why don't we wait till I come back? This way we'll both have time to think about it. It's a serious step, and I don't want to alienate you from your family. As you said, I have trouble meeting women, and as your mother said in the kitchen, you don't do well in hanging on to a man.” This last was said with bitterness, although he felt contrite when he saw Eve flinch.

If there was one thing Eve Baylor dreaded more than anything in the world, it was becoming an old maid. In the South, a woman didn't count for anything unless she had a
Mrs
. in front of her name. A husband and a child made her respectable.

“I don't need time to think, Calvin. If you're serious, then I'm serious. We can decide right now before you leave. You'll want me to convert to Catholicism, won't you?” Calvin nodded weakly. “Then I can take instructions while you're away. When you return, we can get married quietly in your priest's house, not the church, because my family will throw a fit. I might not even tell them I'm converting until ... until I'm an actual Catholic. The question is, Calvin, are you serious?”

Calvin cleared his throat. Now his honor was at stake. By one careless, impulsive move, his whole life was changing right before his eyes. Was he serious? Hell no, he wasn't. The only problem was, he didn't know how to get out of the mess he'd just stuck both feet into without seeming an out-and-out skunk. “I suppose I'm as serious as you are.”

“I guess it's settled, then. I'll make the arrangements when I go to the church to sign up for the conversion program, or whatever you call it. I'll write you.”

“How can you do that when you don't have my address?”

“I'll have to wait to hear from you, and then I'll write. Do you feel all right, Calvin? You look a little pale.”

“No, I'm fine. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about? Anything you want to share with me, secrets you want to unburden?” Eve asked suddenly.

“Should there be? I don't seem to recall you sharing any with me. I
do
recall hearing your mother say there was a long string of men before me. Do you want to talk about
that
?”

“No, I don't. We'll start fresh. Your business is yours and mine is mine. One thing, though, Calvin, I want your word that you will never be unfaithful to me. I want your word as an officer and a gentleman.”

Calvin shrugged. “You have it. What about you, do I have your word?”

“You don't have to worry about me, Calvin. I really do hate men. So if you ever shame me, I'll make your life miserable until the day you die.”

Calvin shivered in the warm sun. “Since I really do hate women, I don't think that's going to be much of a problem.”

As good as his word, he'd returned to Charleston in six weeks and married Eve at four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. The church secretary was Eve's matron of honor and his best man was the janitor. Eve's sister and parents did not attend the wedding. Calvin considered their absence a blessing.

An hour after the wedding they drove in Eve's rattletrap car to Columbia for their honeymoon, a honeymoon that was a total disaster as far as Calvin was concerned. His face and ears turned various shades of red as he remembered the shame and humiliation of his wedding night.

Anxious, yet excited, he didn't bother to remove his pajamas and undershorts that he'd bought for his honeymoon. He was light-headed with anticipation as he rolled on top of Eve and ejaculated almost immediately. He reared back, his head snapping at an awkward angle when Eve screeched, “I thought you knew what to do!”

In his shame and dizziness he forgot to be a gentleman. “I didn't know you were so damn knowledgeable. I thought you were a virgin!” he accused.

Eve jerked away from her new husband. “I didn't think
you
were a virgin. Men your age aren't suppose to be virgins,” Eve said, her voice dripping venom. “If you were wearing any more clothes, you'd be outfitted for a ski team.”

“Don't talk about what I'm wearing, look at yourself. New brides usually wear silky, slinky nightgowns. You look like an old woman in those pajamas, and you have on a bra and underpants, Jesus, how was I supposed ... this is our goddamn wedding night.” Embarrassment and anger drove him on. “I couldn't even find your ... oh, shit!”

“You found it and shot off as soon as you did. What about me? Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am,” Eve said, rolling over on her side of the bed.

“You mean I was
in
!” Calvin said stupidly. A split second later he wanted to bite off his tongue when Eve rolled back over and slapped him in the face.

“Are you saying I'm so big you got ... you didn't . . . oh, you hateful bastard. You're too
small
is more like it!”

Calvin recoiled. It was the final insult to his heritage and his manhood. He wanted to reach out and strangle his new wife. His manhood demanded he retaliate. “As compared to who!” he barked. “How many, Eve, how many before me? Give me numbers and measurements. Now I know why you hate men,” he ground on. “And I was the fool who married you! Well, we can change that real quick. When we get back to Charleston, we'll file for divorce! You're just a damn dried-up old maid.” If he'd thought for days and weeks, he couldn't have come up with anything that would hurt Eve more. He saw the tears in her eyes and the way she cowered up close to the headboard of the bed. She'd struck the first blow, why shouldn't he retaliate?

Divorced on her honeymoon! She'd never live it down and would be the laughingstock of Charleston. Dumped on her honeymoon by a damn ... damn foreigner! She couldn't let that happen. Her parents ... her friends ... this was no time for stupid pride. In a voice she hardly recognized as her own she set about trying to make things right.

“Calvin, we're both upset. Things ... we said things we didn't mean, at least I did. I'm sorry. It's just that ... we each expected ... certain things ... we should have talked, shared our thoughts and what it was we expected ... I'll take half the blame for that. Going against my parents . . . it's been traumatic for me ... here in the South, women are brought up differently ... what I said was hateful and I'm sorry. I'm willing to put this evening behind us and do my best to make up for your ... disappointment.” She risked a glance at him, then threw in the clunker. “I changed my religion for you, and you know the Catholic Church forbids divorce. I changed my religion, Calvin. I don't know too many women who would do that for the man they marry.” His countenance remained stony. “Let's get it all out in the open, Calvin, You are different. You're not white and I am. You're from a different culture, a different land. That's one of the things we should have discussed. We can't pretend you're the same as me because you're not. I accept you, and you'll have to accept me. I want to try again. Not right away. Tomorrow will do or the day after. It's up to you.”

If she'd smiled or softened her voice, Calvin might have believed her. He capitulated only because he knew he'd be excommunicated from the church if he filed for divorce. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Their eyes locked. Eve was the first to break eye contact.

Calvin straightened the covers on his side of the bed and prepared for sleep. He didn't think about the past hour and his wife's pleadings. Instead, he thought about Ruby Connors and how their wedding night would have been.

Five days later Calvin boarded the plane for the Philippines, leaving behind his new wife, who would join him in a month's time.

Marrying Eve Baylor was the biggest mistake of his life. He knew it, and so did Eve.

Calvin was jolted back to the present when the operator told him there was no answer at the Pentagon. He wiped the sweat dripping into his eyes. Of course there was no answer at the Pentagon, it was after eight in the evening. Ruby worked late once in a while, but usually not past seven. The operator was asking him if he wanted to leave a message. “No, I'll call later.”

Calvin stared at the black telephone for a full five minutes. He could call this evening when he was off duty if he wanted to. What good would it do? Calling now had been purely reflexive. Later he would have to really think about everything. What was that old saying? Let sleeping dogs lie. Calling Ruby now would serve no purpose. He was a married man and had given up his right to pursue happiness. “I'm sorry, Ruby,” he murmured, “so very sorry.”

 

The days were all the same now, Ruby thought as she window-shopped on 14th Street for her trousseau. It was going to be skimpy at best: a few new items of underwear, a nightgown that was sinfully sheer and wickedly expensive. When she'd tried on the sheer black froth of lace, she'd blushed from head to toe. She'd showed it to Rena the day she bought it. The little woman had clapped her hands gleefully and said it was exquisitely decadent.

Her roommates were giving her a shower and inviting some of the girls from work, along with Rena. She knew she'd get presents and had tactfully tried to mention little things she thought she might need, though nothing expensive, as all the girls lived on strict budgets.

She stopped to peer into a shop window at a dress she thought might be appropriate for her wedding. It was outrageously expensive, well beyond her budget. She smiled at her reflection in the plate-glass window. She knew exactly what Nola would say. Go buy a basic beige dress and do the trim yourself. Ruby stared at the creation in the window and mentally calculated the cost of the seed pearls, the lace, and the tiny pearl-covered buttons. She could probably buy all that for two dollars, maybe three. Of course she'd be blind by the time she finished sewing all of them onto her dress, providing she could find a dress.

She wanted her wedding to be the best she could make it, and for all intents and purposes it was measuring up very well. Rena had agreed to hold the small reception in her living room, which would comfortably take care of her dozen guests. Her roommates agreed to chip in and make a wide variety of finger foods. Rena offered to buy the champagne, and Bruno had beamed with approval. Tight as she was with a dollar, Ruby was a little surprised at Rena's generosity. She also wondered if she would be slapped with a small fee at some point.

Ruby's thoughts turned to her real estate project as she meandered down 14th Street, her eyes alert for a beige dress. In just three days she would close the deal on both houses. So far, no hidden costs had sprung up to haunt her. She'd paid her overseas call to Saipan, managed to buy the few items for her trousseau, and still had seventy dollars in the bank. All of Rena's little fees were also taken care of. She had renters who would take possession two days after the closing. It had all gone so smoothly, she was hardly aware of what was going on.

Rena had asked her where she planned to keep the deeds to the property and if she didn't plan to include her soon-to-be husband. “And how do you plan to pay your mortgage and collect the rent?” the little woman asked curiously. It was decided finally that for a small fee, Rena would collect the rents and deposit the money into a checking account in Ruby's name. For an additional fee she would make monthly withdrawals and pay the mortgage in cash. This last had been tricky, but the bank manager had gone along with the plan once he realized Ruby was moving out of state. For yet another small fee and a supply of stamps and envelopes, Rena had agreed to send on receipts once things were settled down and operational. Minus all of Rena's fees, the mortgage, and the utility bills, Ruby was left with sixty dollars a month.

Once Ruby had it all down securely in her mind, she made a special trip to the bank and spoke to the manager herself. She asked to have forty dollars sent to her parents on the first of the month. The remaining twenty dollars would be left to accumulate in her small savings account. She felt pleased with herself when she walked out of the bank. She wasn't going to take anything from Andrew's pay. And what she was doing was fair. Anything that happened up to the day she became Mrs. Andrew Blue was none of Andrew's business. Rena agreed. So did the bank manager.

Ruby was so intent on her thoughts, she almost missed the dress in the window of a shop called Helen's Apparel. Even through the window Ruby knew the dress was so cheap it would probably fall apart if she washed it. It was eight dollars and ninety-nine cents. It was, however, the exact style she'd been looking for: an empire waist and a skirt that flared, but not too much. She closed her eyes and tried to picture how it would look with pearls and buttons. If she didn't overdo it, the way Nola said most designers did, she would have a creation worthy of a wedding.