"Oh."
I don't know why it surprised me, even though I was sure neither Mommy nor Miguel would have told him. Gossip was the lifeblood of this community, I thought
"Some family planning." he muttered. "You'll probably be married with kids of your own before he's out of diapers."
"I will not. Daddy. That's silly."
"Yes, well, silly is as silly does." he said. "I'll call you tomorrow. I might be home for dinner Friday, and you can come over and have a normal evening," he said. "No one will analyze the salad dressing."
"Daddy..." I began.
"Sorry, Hannah. I have to get back to work. I'm in the middle of winning a half million dollars for a client whose poodle was accidentally on purpose dropped down a laundry shaft in one of our better hotels."
"Really?"
"Gotta go." he said. and the phone went dead.
My feelings seemed to do the same thing: just come to a stop and drop away, leaving me numb and silent inside. There was nothing to do but go home.
That must mean something terrible. I thought. to think of home as the absolutely last place you wanted to be.
.There was a message waiting for me. Miguel had gone to the hospital. and I should either follow or have dinner at home by myself. Reluctantly I was going to go to the hospital, but a surprise phone call stopped me from doing that.
It was Heyden Reynolds.
"I decided to keep poking my nose in your life." he began. "Before you ask. Selma Warden gave me your phone number. She was guarding it as hard as she's been guarding her virginity," he added. and I laughed.
"Then how did you get her to give it up to you?"
"Can't tell you. If I did. I would have to kill you immediately."
It felt good to smile. He was like some antidote for depression, a dosage of fun.
"I know it's a precious school night and all, but I was wandering if you would like to go for some fast food. I can afford as much as a royal, deluxe supreme burger or chicken delight supreme, if you don't order any extra French fries.
"I know," he added before I could respond, "someone has already prepared dinner for you."
"For your information. Mr. Know-it-all, no one has. and I was on my way out to eat some hospital cafeteria food."
"Oh. Well, if you would rather do that. I can meet you in the emergency room or even the OR."
I laughed again.
"I'll meet you at your favorite fast-food restaurant. Just give me directions." I said and he did.
When I hung up. I felt a surge of new energy and excitement. The heavy cape of dark depression slipped away, and I hurried to fix my hair, put on some fresh lipstick, and change into a one of my prettier blouses and a pair of designer jeans. Then I thought I was over-doing it for a fast-food restaurant and felt a sense of new panic. Would he think I was silly? Was I being too anxious? Confusion added to delay, which intensified my panic. Stop acting stupid. I finally ordered myself and shot out of my room, down the stairs, and out the front door. I heard the phone ringing behind me. but I didn't wait to see who it was.
Minutes later I was heading for the Flagler bridge to drive into West Palm Beach. Both Mommy and Miguel didn't like me going into new places without them or without them being aware of it. but I wasn't feeling like paying much attention to their rules at the moment. The particular area of West Palm Beach into which I was driving was not an area featured in any tourist magazines. The housing was the least expensive and the least attractive. It was home mostly to the people who served as menial laborers and service employees in the fancier resorts. The storefronts were dull and weathered, the streets not as clean looking. Coming directly here from Palm Beach's Worth Avenue was one of the best ways to appreciate the vast gap between the rich and the poor in America,
Sometimes I think rich people are threatened by the mere sight of poor people, of poor communities. They prefer to ride through them quickly or pull down the shades on their luxurious limousines following the premise that what you don't see, what you don't know can't hurt you. Who wants to be reminded just how disgustingly wealthy he or she is? As Mommy often says, "Rich people here put a gag on the mouth of their conscience."
Heyden was standing outside the front entrance of the fast-food restaurant when I drove into the parking lot. Mommy's Mercedes C-class looked out of place. Heyden wore a smile of amusement as he started toward me.
"Feel like you're slumming?" he asked.
I looked around. "Actually, I'm here every other day."
"Sure, and there really is a Santa Claus," he said. laughing. "C'mon. I've decided to splurge and buy you extra large fries. too."