Containing a tidal wave of anger, I gnawed the inside of my cheek for a moment. Finally I said, “Do you have something to tell me?”
I heard the rustle of fabric; he was probably in bed and pulling himself up to a sitting position. “Dad called you?”
“Then it’s true?”
His voice grew childlike. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
Trembling inside, I felt like a coiled snake, ready to spew out venom. I wanted to say, “How could you be such a fool?” but I curbed my tongue. Lambasting him wasn’t going to help anything. And those cutting words could never be retracted.
Finally I said, “How do you know you’re the father?”
“Andrea’s not that kind of a girl.”
“I’d say she is.” I could kick myself for not warning him about feminine guiles, and about women like me.
Later that morning I found Lois in the back room of the office leaning over the copy machine. Clad in a Chanel-style suit emphasizing a trim waist, she removed a printed page from the copier and looked it over.
“Hello,” I said, and she noticed me.
“My quarterly newsletter,” she said, her face awash with pride. “I like to keep in touch with my clients. Don’t want them forgetting me.” She pressed a button, and the machine began to stir, then spit out more copies. “By the way, the Troutman-Henrick sale is dead.”
I attempted to hide my shock, but frantic words tumbled out. “That’s impossible. What happened?”
“The couple buying the Troutmans’ home had their inspection yesterday and found out the electricity and plumbing needs to be updated. They bailed out, don’t want to buy the Troutmans’ house anymore—which is just as well since there’s no way the Troutmans can move right now.”
“But the Troutmans made a deal with the Henricks.” My words sounded like mush, like my mouth was clogged with oatmeal. “They can’t change their minds now. The Henricks are buying their new home on the contingency that they sell their old.”
“Yes, I know.” Her face remained composed, her voice like velvet. “The Troutmans are willing to let the Henricks keep their earnest money and just bag the whole thing.” She eyed her newsletter again; the corners of her mouth turned up. She glanced back to me. “Win some, lose some. Right?”
I couldn’t stand on the sidelines and do nothing, not after all the hours and work I’d poured into this sale. I inched toward the door. “I’ve got to call the Henricks.”
“Don’t bother. I just spoke to Sherry a few minutes ago. She said it would be bad karma to force an elderly couple to buy their house, and wasn’t it cool she and Wayne made all that money?”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“I’m afraid not. The sale just isn’t going to fly.”
All I could think about was how much I needed the commission money. I felt like running out the door and never returning. Tears were threatening the backs of my eyes, but I willed them away. Lois was the last person I would want to see me fall apart.
“Are you okay?” she said.
“Sure.” I tried in vain keep my bottom lip from quivering. I sucked it in and held my breath. I couldn’t admit that I barely had enough cash in the bank to cover my mortgage payment. What was I going to do for food and gas?
“Come on.” Her eyes probed mine. “You should be used to this sort of thing by now. It’s all part of the real-estate game.”
In an effort to save face, I said, “I’m having some other difficulties in my life.”
“I know how that goes. In a few minutes I’m making my mandatory daily visit to see my mother.” The copier crunched to a halt, and a light started blinking, indicating the machine was out of paper. Lois yanked out the paper tray. “Father and I put her in an Alzheimer’s unit a few weeks ago.” She stuffed in more paper and rammed the tray back into the copier. “She’s never been a very nice person to be around.” She stabbed the start button. “Now she’s impossible, tells me she hates me.”
“I’ll bet she doesn’t mean it.”
“If you only knew my mother.”
It was the first time I’d seen anything but self-confidence radiate from Lois’s symmetrical face. “I’m sorry.” I stepped closer, into a zone I’d never before entered. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Not unless you know a way to keep me from growing old and losing my mind. My grandmother had Alzheimer’s too. How’s that for crummy genes?” Her eyes became glassy. “I don’t want my Walt getting stuck with a loony wife.” She spun around, as if to check the copy machine, but I could see her dabbing the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. I reached out to touch her shoulder and felt rocklike hardness.
She jerked away as if I’d hurt her. “I’m all right. I must be coming down with something.”
I thought of my own parents, how important they were to me. “I’d like to help,” I said. “I could fill in for you if you want to take that vacation you were talking about.”
“Thanks, but I can’t leave my father alone right now.”
How unfair, I thought. I remembered Henry’s futile attempt to comfort me. If his God could change darkness to light, why would he let Lois’s mother’s brain decay?
Through the driving rain I could see my mother’s aged station wagon sitting in their carport. Since Mom loved Rob almost as much as I did, I figured she would be the best person to offer support and advice.
Opening the car door, I squinted as blobs of water dampened my face. I zipped my jacket to my chin, then strode up the walkway. Ahead, by the front door, three large crows darkened the branches of the rhododendron. The birds cawed as I approached. In an effort to frighten them away I waved my arms, but they stared back with shiny black eyes. I clapped my hands, and
