but I do! And if it wasn't for your precious Rachel things would have turned out different for me. I'd have a… a mother
and a father like other kids, and… and-was
Suddenly Beth threw her dish and spoon on the floor and spun from the room, sobbing.
'Beth, wait!'
'Go to your precious Rachel! Go!' she screamed, slamming up the stairs.
Tommy Lee's heart thundered as he stood in indecision. Should he go to Beth and allay her fears, assure her he'd never leave her as he had her mother? For that was her greatest fear, it was plain. Years of living with a single parent-and a bitter one at that-had left Beth insecure and grasping.
Tommy Lee sighed and dropped to a chair, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.
Complications. The need for love, that all-powerful drive experienced by everyone-would it work against him all his life?
He considered going upstairs and telling Beth the entire story about Rachel and himself, but she was only fourteen years old. She had her whole sexual life ahead of her. A story like that might leave her with any number of false impressions-that he condoned sex at sixteen, that Rachel was a 'bad girl' when she was young, that she
was indeed responsible for Nancy's 407 bitterness.
Lord, what went through the minds of fourteen-year-old girls? He didn't know. He'd never had one before. If he told her the whole truth, would it soften his daughter or add to the problem? And to tell it was to include, by necessity, his own estrangement from his parents. Surely she would question him about that. He had promised Rachel he'd make an attempt at reconciliation, but stepping up to that house, then inside it, after all these years, was going to be even more difficult than dealing with Beth.
Gentry, how did you get into this emotional mess?
Disconsolate, he held his head in both hands and stared at the floor between his feet. Then with a weary sigh he unfolded himself and went to clean up the bowl of ice cream. It had left a stain on the carpet, and he supposed he should have hauled Beth back to pick up the mess herself, instead of allowing her to throw a tantrum and get away with it.
How does a guy learn to be a father?
Hunkered down on one knee in the middle of the
living-room floor, a dishcloth dangling from his fingers, he dropped his elbow and forehead onto the upraised knee and fought the urge to cry.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fall moved on with no perceptible changes in the attitudes of either Beth or Everett. In October Rachel listed her house with a realtor, believing the decisive move would force her father to accept the idea of her upcoming marriage, but he remained unyielding. The few times Rachel confronted Beth at Tommy Lee's house the girl was chilly and aloof, escaping to her room as soon as possible.
In November the realtor found a buyer for Rachel's house, and with that enormous obstacle overcome, she and Tommy Lee set the wedding date for the Saturday following Thanksgiving. But as the holiday approached, they still had not overcome the other obstacles that were casting shadows over their future together. And they both wanted very much to begin their married life without clouds hanging over their heads. They had done all they could to give the two time to accept the idea of their marriage, yet neither
had. 409
And so, they agreed, it was time for an ultimatum.
The November wind was chilly, catching at Tommy Lee's trouser legs as he strode purposefully from his office, crossed Jackson Avenue, and covered the distance to the First State Bank of Russellville. He flung the door open, marched inside, and stopped before the receptionist, who looked up with a cheery smile.
'I want to see Everett Talmadge.'
'If you'll have a seat over there, I'll ring him.'
Tommy Lee was too agitated to have a seat. He stood, his feet widespread, before the receptionist's desk, eyes riveted on the glass cubicle that was clearly visible in the far corner of the bank. He saw Talmadge reach for his phone; then the receptionist spoke.
'There's someone here to see you.' Talmadge appeared to be distractedly scanning something on his desk when the woman answered his unheard question. 'It's Tommy Lee Gentry.'
Talmadge's head came up with a jerk and his eyes met Gentry's across the width of the business
floor. His lips moved again and the receptionist asked Tommy Lee, 'What is this in regard to?'
Still staring at the bank president, Gentry replied, 'Tell him I want to make a deposit.'
The woman pivoted the mouthpiece below her chin. 'But depos-was
'Just tell him!' Tommy Lee interrupted.
Obediently she brought the phone to her lips. 'He says he'd like to make a deposit, sir.'
Even from this distance, Tommy Lee could see the belligerent expression overtake Talmadge's face before his mouth worked again.
'Deposits are made at the teller windows, Mr. Gentry,' came the relayed message.
'I'll make this one personally with the president,' Tommy Lee informed her, then added impatiently, 'Never mind. I can see he's not busy. I'll just go right in.'
'But, Mr. Gentry-was
Tommy Lee was halfway across the room before the woman could rise from her chair. He opened the door without knocking to find Talmadge already on
his feet, then slammed it with a resolute 411 thud that shook the glass walls. He dropped a portfolio in the middle of the desk with a slap, then confronted his foe head-on.
'It'll take more than a timid receptionist to keep me out this time, Talmadge.'
'There's a whole row of tellers out there. Any one of them can open an account for you.'
'You'd like that, wouldn't you? But you're not getting off that easy, not this time! We're going to have this thing out once and for all-you and me.' Tommy Lee planted his hands on his hips while his face took on a stubborn look to match any Everett Talmadge had ever exuded.
'I don't want or need your money in my bank, Gentry.'
'This isn't about money and you know it-but my money's going to be here whether you like it or not. I'm sick and tired of driving up to Florence to do my banking, just because you had a burr on your ass twenty years ago and decided you'd show me who was boss. Well, I've proved myself, financially-without your help. I ran a quarter of a million through that damn Florence bank last year, and I've just closed my accounts there, so
get used to the fact that you'll have to face my success along with a few other things.'
'Gentry, I can have you thrown out of here!'
Tommy Lee bent over the edge of the desk, demanding, 'And exactly what would that settle? Throw me out- go ahead!' He straightened and flung a hand in the air. 'But you can't throw me out of your daughter's life, so isn't it time we both tried to live with the fact and reach some kind of compromise… for her sake?'
Talmadge only glared, standing stiffly with his brow beetled and his hands knotted into fists.
'I love your daughter and she loves me, and all the feuding in the world isn't going to change that fact.'
Talmadge emitted a disdainful sniff and eyed Gentry askance while moving with calculated laziness around his desk chair. He stood behind it rolling a pencil up and down between his palms. 'Been seein' any of the local trollops lately, Gentry?' he asked unctuously.
Tommy Lee resisted the urge to settle his fist in the middle of the old man's face as he went on resolutely, 'I've asked her to marry me and she's agreed. Now, we'd like to do
it with your blessing, but if not-so be it. 413 We've been fighting the whole damn world, it seems-you, my daughter, even each other at times-but we're done waiting. We're going to be married next Saturday.'
Talmadge's eyes remained cold. 'For how long?'
Tommy Lee swallowed his pride and said stiffly, 'I'll admit, my past is far from spotless, but I don't feel compelled to justify it to you as long as Rachel trusts me enough to marry me, and she does.'
