Randy White - Deceived

There was something I wanted to ask and tried to widen the opening he’d just given me. “Chapel By the Sea on Captiva,” I said. “I missed last Sunday, but, most weeks, we’re there. Loretta goes Wednesday nights, too, but we stopped attending Foursquare Pentecostal like before. Are you still a deacon there, Mr. Chatham?”

The man was wily, knew exactly where I was going with it, so he shared another secret as a preemptive. “You’re right. Never was the good Christian I pretended to be-didn’t I just admit that? We aren’t perfect, Hannah, but we are forgiven. Or did you forget?”

I replied, “I hope you told me about Joel because you trust me. See… I’m not perfect either. I’m too suspicious sometimes and can’t help thinking it might be because you have something on my family and me.” I used my hand to stop him from interrupting. “I’d like to ask you something, Mr. Chatham. Were you involved with smuggling drugs? Normally, it would be none of my business, but it is my business because I know you and Loretta had an affair-ten years, it lasted, all during the pot-hauling days. She never said a word, but I knew. Now someone is blackmailing- extorting ’s probably a better word-or bullying her and her friends and they’re afraid. If you were involved, she was involved. See why I’m concerned? I’d like the truth, sir.”

Chatham held up his Scotch, which he’d been nursing, savored the color, and took a sip. Through the limo’s back window were the cabins of Munchkinville-Loretta’s house, too-and coconut palms green against blue water. That’s where his eyes were focused when he said, “They’re being squeezed out. Accuse an older person of a crime, they’ll believe it, ’cause everyone’s guilty of something. Call it extortion or whatever you want, but it’ll appear to be done legal- if it gets done. I’m not behind what’s happening, though.”

I felt my face warming, which happens when I am snubbed by an evasion. I said, “That’s interesting, but you didn’t answer my question.”

The man continued talking as if I hadn’t said a word. “See, the problem with those piddly old fish shacks is they’re on lots too small to conform to code. One by itself is worthless. Even if three got blown down, you couldn’t build a decent place. Put all twelve together, you’ve got a chunk of multimillion-dollar waterfront. Developers have tried to buy the whole kit ’n’ caboodle, but folks here are too stubborn to sell. So someone come up with a smart way to get rid of them. At least they think it’s smart.”

I said, “Mr. Chatham, this morning I told Joel almost the exact same thing because that’s what I suspect is happening. Maybe he told you, I don’t know. What I asked was, did you involve my mother in drug trafficking?”

Chatham tilted the whisky glass, barely wetting his lips, which seemed to signal that I was being ignored again. That did it.

I said, “I’d rather walk than ride with a man who won’t answer an honest question,” then tried to open the door-a dramatic exit that was ruined because the door was locked. I tried several times before tapping on the Plexiglas to get the chauffeur’s attention. Apparently, Reggie had been through these scenes before because he ignored me, too.

“Is this how you charmed Loretta?” I sputtered. “Joel’s mother? I bet your wife was real proud of you!”

“No, my late wife tolerated me” was the reply. “She was a good woman. Deserved better than me, I’ll admit that, too.”

Now I was mad. “While you’re in a confessing mood, why not tell me the truth?”

Chatham looked at me, his expression sharp for the first time, and so was his tone. “Young lady, if you ever ask a man to admit to a felony again, expect to be disappointed. If he doesn’t answer, your blood pressure’s gonna shoot up. If he does, you’ll be conversing with a fool. Worse than that, you’ve given him a reason to do you harm. Maybe even kill you.”

“Now you’re threatening me?” I asked, and picked up my phone.

“I’m talking to you like you’re my own daughter!” the man fired back, but it was the look of pain on his face that stopped me from dialing. “I would’ve never done anything to hurt you or your mother. I loved her, Hannah, and protected her as best I could. Always will.” Chatham let me deal with that while he touched the button again and told Reggie, “Open Miz Hannah’s door, please. She might want to stretch her legs.”

Reggie was a cackler. “She got the legs to do it, Governor,” and there was an electronic click that told me I was free to go. I didn’t budge, though. Sat there blankly while a numbing possibility formed in my mind-Mr. Chatham saying he’d kept track of me, had viewed me from afar as I grew into adulthood, and now admitting that he had loved my mother.

Was it possible?

I did some rapid math.

Yes… it was possible.

Sitting in the backseat of a limo with my mother’s ex-lover-and a former lieutenant governor of the state-it was suddenly difficult for me to form words let alone pose a question that might change my life forever. I finally did, although it sounded like a stranger’s voice as the words left my mouth.

“Is this the way you handled it with Joel?” I asked. “Are you telling me that you’re my-”

I couldn’t finish. Didn’t need to.

“Wish I could say it’s true,” Chatham interrupted. “I would have taken better care of you both.” He cleared his throat, then pretended to sip his drink while he looked away, his eyes tearing possibly.

Because my own throat felt tight, I said, “It was stupid of me to think such a thing. I shouldn’t have asked about smuggling drugs either. If Loretta wants to tell me, that’s up to her.”

“Your mother’s not the same woman,” Chatham reminded me, and, for the first time, the man sounded lost and old.

“You’d be surprised,” I said, trying to boost his spirits for some reason. “Her head’s clearer sometimes than she let’s on. When’s the last time you spoke?”

“Up until her stroke, we talked on the phone every week, usually more. Once she was out of the hospital, though, it caused her too much upset-Lorrie gets embarrassed when she can’t remember something. You know what a proud woman she is.”

Lorrie? I sat back to clear my head. “I had no idea!”

Mr. Chatham had been a good-looking man in his time and carried the genes required to smile while flexing his jaw. He did it now, saying, “All through your school years, Loretta couldn’t wait to tell me when you’d done something special. Hannah got all A’s or about your clarinet recital, then when you were on the swim team. If Lorrie didn’t answer for a couple of days, I’d call Pinky and she’d catch me up on the news.”

“Lorrie and Pinky,” I whispered, thinking about it.

The man sensed the question forming in my mind. “No,” he said gently, “I only phoned Pinky because they were best friends. No other reason. And she liked to gossip even more than Loretta.”

I laughed and suddenly felt better about things, but Chatham remained lost in the past. “Poor, poor Pinky,” he murmured. “It was a nice funeral, wasn’t it?”

“Mrs. Helms had a lot of friends,” I agreed.

“Strange how things go, Hannah. It’s the rare person who meets their real partner before they make a mistake-Pinky told me that herself. She was in the hospital at the time ’cause Dwight beat her, but she wouldn’t do anything about it. The man she married brought the Devil into her house and the ol’ Devil doesn’t leave until he’s planted bad seed. The way her kids turned out about broke that woman’s heart. By then, it was too late for her to start over.”