Read Woman of Substance Online

Authors: Annette Bower

Woman of Substance (8 page)

“No, I didn’t get that message.” Robbie remembered checking her phone messages yesterday. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because I sent mine to the Goodwill a long time ago or you could have used it. We used to be about the same size.”

“Robbie Smith.” She said, turning and smiling at the check-in woman who peered down the list.

“Thank you.” She scooped up her nametag and event schedule. “See you on stage,” she said to Nancy, then strode, head held high down the hall to the girls’ washroom, checked the stalls, and leaned against the sink. Under the fresh scent of expensive cologne she sniffed at those lingering odors of gym socks, tampons, and cheap hair spray, but it was still a refuge from the hallways as it has been for girls throughout their school years.

Nancy hadn’t changed. She’d upstaged her again.
So what if I can’t get into my cheerleading costume today. Those days are gone but strangely not forgotten by everyone.

The door swung open and a woman who looked as if she was ready to deliver right there on the floor flung herself into a cubicle.

“Sorry to rush by you. But when you gotta go . . .”

“You gotta go.” Robbie straightened her long-sleeve top. Not everyone at the reunion could fit into the sizes they wore back in high school. Yes, it was time to meet her friends and acquaintances from the past. She held her arms out from her side and twirled. The filmy material rose behind her like a protective cape.

Chapter 7

Jake caught a glimpse of himself in his rearview mirror. The neon plaster was still stuck to his jaw.
Thank you, Granddad. You could have at least said something, pointed to it.
Jake knew the obvious little things about appearances weren’t of much interest to Frank. He paid attention to how a person lived their life. His grandmother had tried to stay in Jake’s life with her care packages. White sport socks, season-themed underwear, and chocolate chip cookies.

Various roommates over the years had laughed and teased him, especially women, that his grandmother still bought him underwear. He tried to suggest that she stop but she had said, “It’s the least I can do for you, Jake. A man can always use spare underwear and socks.” After a couple of years, he gave in and sent her his right size, medium, and the brand and brief style. He’d forgotten how much he missed her care packages. Even though she didn’t give birth to him, she had a mother’s intuition where he was concerned. Maybe he should have taught in the university here. Maybe he could have encouraged her to think about what was best for her. Maybe she’d still be here.

Jake checked the needle on the round speedometer. It was easy to drive without care and attention and lately he had so many thoughts vying for attention.

And maybe the University of Ottawa wouldn’t be investigating his integrity. He would never misappropriate research funds. The anthropology department head and the President of the University believed him, but the money seemed to be gone and they had a responsibility to the government and to the taxpayers to conduct an investigation. It had to be a technical error, but until his name was cleared he felt as if he was guilty. His lawyer, Harold Richmond, came well recommended for his experience in these types of allegations and was working hard reviewing the evidence and had even hired a private investigator to scout around the department.

Driving North on Albert Street, Jake wondered why Jean had decided to contact him after at least fifteen years. She hadn’t hinted at specific reasons while they were in each other’s company at the university, nor Friday evening when she had picked him up from his hotel. They’d had the same homeroom teacher in their final year in high school but hadn’t been in touch since graduation. He suspected that Jean had emailed him more by design than coincidence just when he needed to be close to his grandfather. She suggested that he compile his research notes at the University of Regina. She must have her finger on the pulse of Regina because she knew that the Chamber of Commerce needed a replacement guest speaker for a fund-raiser.

She lived in one of the downtown office towers that had been converted into condominiums. The concierge telephoned her, then escorted him into an elevator and swiped the security card.

When the elevator door opened to hallway with plush carpet and polished porcelain tile, Jean stood in her doorway and with her arm extended. “Jake, come in.”

The open-concept apartment had huge windows that drew his eyes to the horizon. He could see for miles. Only in a city like Regina could he be on the fourteenth floor of a building and see forever.

“Great view.”

“Isn’t it just,” Jean said.

He heard the closet door close.

“You don’t mind if we hurry, do you?”

“No, of course not. I’ll drive you to where you need to be and get you there on time.”

When she handed him her coat, he felt the difference between the bulk of another coat he’d held not too many hours ago and the cashmere he held for Jean. What was wrong with him? Jean Clifton was a beautiful woman who’d provided him with an office and a teaching position. His anthropological experience taught him to pay attention to the person he was with. They always knew if he was not fully engaged. Robin Smyth probably reminded him of a future without the two people who had loved him unconditionally, and that was that.

Jean hooked her arm through his and they closed the door on the magnificent view of blue sky and farmland stretching to the horizon.

After locking the door, Jean said, “I’m glad we’ll have this time together. There doesn’t seem to be enough hours in a day to catch up on all the years that have passed.”

The elevator doors swished open and they stepped inside.

“I’m all yours until three forty-five. I promised Frank that I would join him for dinner.”

He thought her lips pouted for just a second.

“Frank?” she inquired, brows drawn together.

“My grandfather, Frank Proctor.”

“Oh yes, one of the reasons we could tempt you to our university.”

With her back to him, he watched her shoulders straighten before she turned to him with a look of concern on her face. She laid her hand on his sleeve. “He raised you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he and my grandmother.” Jake’s gut clenched. Soon he would be the last branch of the Proctor family tree.

“I met him at our high school graduation. I almost fell into his lap,” she said. “He was so sweet.”

“He’s a charmer when he wants to be.” Jake remembered his grandmother calling Frank a lady’s man. Of course Jake could never see it.

“How is he?”

“Not well. That’s why I want to be with him whenever I can.”

The prairie wind whipped at Jean’s coat. She held the collar tighter.

“It’s like a wind tunnel downtown with the tall buildings,” Jean said.

Jake opened the passenger door and helped her in. When he settled into the familiar leather seat and started the ignition, the heat blasted on the high setting that Frank needed. He fumbled with the dials. “Sorry about that. Granddad wanted heat.” He turned to Jean. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for contacting me when you did.”

“Works for you and for us. It’s a feather in our cap, having a young, famous researcher at our university, teaching our students. I know the Vice-Chancellor was pleased when I told him you agreed to come on board and fill the temporary position.” Her eyes sparkled and she swayed toward him.

Uh, oh, time to move.
He checked over his shoulder and turned the signal indicator on. “So where are we going?”

“Not far. Just down Highway 11 to the Town of Lumsden. It’s only about twenty minutes. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I remember Lumsden. It was place to go for an ice cream on a hot day.” He turned toward her.

“Oh, I never did that.” She blew out a sigh of frustration. “I borrowed a cheerleading costume for a Halloween party from my brother’s ex and it seems that she needs it right this minute for a school reunion or something. She was the captain of the squad and their idea of fun is to perform some old cheers. I just haven’t had a minute until today and then my car wouldn’t start.”

After they were settled in their seats with the belts securely fastened, Jean looked around at the dash. “What a great car. This couldn’t be the same car I envied during high school?”

“One and the same. It was my mother’s.”

Her blue eyes flashed. “I’ll bet it cost a pretty penny to store for all those years?”

“Yes. But it is important to my grandfather that it’s here. He bought it for her after she passed her driver’s test. I drove it until I left for the University of Ottawa and when I came home for visits.” He felt her fingers brush his hand on the top of the gear shifter. He gripped the knob tighter to keep from pulling away from the contact.

“That’s sweet.”

“Do you keep up with our old class?”

“I never left the city, except to travel, of course, so I tend to hear about most of us.”

He accelerated along the straight highway. “I’ve been away for so long, I think I recognize people on the street but I’m not one hundred percent sure. Friday night was great catching up with some of the guys. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome, but remember we both benefited.” She turned her body in the seat and spoke to the side of his face while he watched the road. “You’re probably wondering why I contacted you when I did.”

He turned quickly and glanced at her before he looked back to the road. “Yes, I have. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great but it does seem more than coincidental.”

“Sorry, it isn’t a coincidence at all. I heard from a friend of a friend that your grandfather was ill, and the circumstances at your own university might be right for you to return home for awhile.”

With an economy of motion, he held the car on the road. For a moment, he stared at the horizon. Who would have told her? Only a handful of people knew that he was under investigation.

He glanced when he felt pressure on his arm and saw her red nails lay against his black leather sleeve.

“Don’t be upset, Jake. There wasn’t any direct information about the university’s investigation. I made some discreet inquires. I wanted to put your name forward for our university but I also needed to protect my back.”

He sat deeper in the seat, loosened his grip on the wheel. “There isn’t basis for these allegations. I promise you.” He met her watchful eyes.

“I believe you. I convinced the Dean that there must be some mistake. He believes me.” She responded readily enough. She shifted in her seat, turning to watch the hills and leafless trees rush by. Finally she said, “Let’s enjoy the drive. Get to know each other again. Tell me more about Africa.”

He relaxed his left foot on the floorboards. “As you know, I lived with the !Kung San in the Kalahari Desert. They were the people portrayed in the film
The Gods Must Be Crazy
.”

“I saw that movie. You lived with them for
three
months?”

“Yes.”

“But why them if they’ve been studied so often?”

“I studied the changes in their life since the movie. Drought and overgrazing have impacted the wildlife they hunted and they’ve also been exposed to the role models from the outside world. Some of the members of the community have permanent houses and cultivated gardens, instead of packing up their material possessions and abandoning their temporary grass houses to hunt and gather food.”

“Everything changes.”

He enjoyed talking about his research. Downshifting, Jake eased up on the accelerator while he turned into the town. Judging by the traffic, something big was happening.

“Just down Main Street then left on Sixth Street to the high school. I’ll only be a minute. I want to hear more about what you discovered,” she said.

When he approached the school, the parking lot was full. He stopped in the loading zone and stood beside his car as men and women climbed out of half-ton trucks, vans, compacts, and SUVs. They were in dresses, suits, and jeans. He nodded to those who greeted him as if he might be a former classmate and said “hello.” Jake released his breath in a half laugh when he saw Robin’s vehicle. Her vanity license plate, ‘Almost There’, gave her away. Wonder where ‘there’ is she wants to be? He’d paid attention to the license plate one day when he arrived as she drove away. He could not have missed the mass of curls in the driver’s seat.
So this is the reason she was dressed up.

The canvas welcome sign ruffled above the entrance doors. It looked as if someone had played fox and goose in the skiff of snow on the grass.
Can’t take the kid out of us.
He’d run his fair share of winter tag. Shifting his body off the car, he followed another couple into the foyer. Class photographs lined the hall. He wandered through them, seeing mullet cuts, big wind-blown hair, pixie cuts, and eyes filled with hope.

Muffled laughter filtered through the closed gymnasium door. He slipped inside, then leaned against the pillar and observed. The basketball hoops were folded up to the rafters. The stage was set up for a band. The all-too-familiar bleachers were tucked against the wall. It looked as if Jean had found the woman she needed to see and was handing over her package. They’d be driving back to the city again soon. His attention was caught the moment Robin turned away from a group of women. He’d been waiting to see her. Her face was flushed but beaming. She listened attentively, laughed openly, and hugged freely.

When she looked in his direction, Jake raised his hand and grinned, but she didn’t see him. A short, bald guy was guiding her into a seat beside him and she focused all of her attention on the man who spoke to her with an old familiarity.

The emcee announced Sue Brown, the class of ‘95 star jazz singer, would sing and those who wanted to dance should because they were older now and they’d better get their dancing in before they had to go home to kids and bed. Most of the members of the crowd laughed, some booed, but couples began to reach for each other and move toward the dance floor.

Jake moved away from the wall and ambled toward Robin. She shook her head in disbelief, looked into his eyes, then her brow furrowed. He offered her his hand and led her to dance floor that was quickly filling up.

“Jake, what are you doing here?”

“Dancing with you.” He moved to place one hand onto her back. She grasped both his hands and kept him at arms’ length. “You know what I mean. I know that you didn’t attend this school.”

“No, I didn’t. We could say I happened to be looking for a dance.” They moved to the music in sort of a high school version of a waltz.

The mellow notes soothed Jake and he felt Robin’s hands relax for a moment. His thumb of its own volition massaged her palm.

“Seriously, how come you’re here?” she asked.

“Coincidence. I drove a colleague here. She’s standing over there next to the stage returning a cheerleading uniform.”

Robin dropped her hands free from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I promised to meet a friend.” She wove around the dancing couples.

He felt his mouth drop open, before he clamped it tight. He’d never been abandoned on the dance floor before. While he watched Robin slip away from him, Jean touched his arm. “I’m glad you came in. Nancy can talk the leg off a table. I see you recognized someone.”

“Grandfather’s friend.”

“Oh.” Jean smoothed her hands along her hips. “Dance?”

Jake raised his arms once again and this time the woman willingly stepped into his arms. His palm rested against the sinew beneath Jean’s shoulder blade, so different from the arms’ length Robin kept him at few minutes earlier. Jean’s hand slipped behind his back and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Strange, though he held a beautiful, successful, woman in his arms, his thoughts kept drifting toward Robin, wondering where she’d gone to and why she’d left him so quickly.

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