“How'd Chet take it?"
“Oh, Jane, I was so afraid he'd be disgusted with me, but he was wonderful. He knew how sorry I was that we'd never had children. He said that he had his sons and I should at least get to know mine. He got some person who worked for him to find Bobby—”
Some person who worked for him, Jane reflected. That's how the rich did things. Wonderful, thoughtful Chet buying Phyllis yet another new stuffed toy. Only this one could bite and make messes in their lives.
“Bobby's adoptive mother had died, and his father remarried someone who just couldn't get along with poor Bobby, so they were happy to let him come visit us on the island. And we all got along so well that he stayed with me.”
I'll bet he did, Jane thought. Having driven some poor stepmother crazy, he was suddenly thrown into incredible wealth and a brand new mother who worshiped him. What young man wouldn't have stayed? Bobby might be pond scum, but even scum knew when it was onto a good thing.
“Jane, I can't tell you what a comfort it's been to have Bobby these last few months. Without him to lean on, I'd have probably just gone to pieces. You see, Chet has been acting very strange. It isn't anything Bobby says or does, exactly, that's so comforting. It's just knowing I have him. Somebody who is my own. Chet's boys are very nice, but they were half-grown before I got to know them, and they're so—so businesslike. Not like Bobby at all.”
Oh, Bobby's businesslike enough, Jane thought bitterly. He's gotten into a lovely investment, and he knows it. Too bad he doesn't know enough to treat it with the respect it deserves. "What does Chet think of Bobby?" she asked.
“He loves him!" Phyllis said with almost shrill confidence. "He doesn't really understand him, but he loves him."
“Doesn't understand him how?" Jane felt she shouldn't be picking at this, but she wanted some confirmation that Chet wasn't as foolish as Phyllis.
“Oh, just little things. Chet's a very affectionate, very open person, and he's just a little disappointed that Bobby's so—so reserved.”
Disappointed that Bobby's a sullen jerk who treats you like shit, Jane thought. Well, good for old Chet. "What about Chet's sons? What do they think of Bobby?"
“Everett lives in London and handles all the European part of the business. He's never met Bobby, but John—Oh, Jane, you must know John and Joannie, don't you?"
“I don't think so, but Shelley does."
“That's good. I mentioned you to John, and he said he knew you. Something about a ball game. Basketball? Volleyball?"
“Oh, that John Wagner!" Jane suddenly remembered him. Boy, did she ever remember him! She and Steve had belonged to a neighborhood volleyball team for a mercifully short time the autumn before Steve died. John Wagner, the captain of the team, was a good-looking, athletic man in his mid-forties who played volleyball as if the future of the human race depended on the outcome of each game. He was a Type-A personality run amok. People had told her he was quite nice if one didn't presume to engage him in competition of any sort, but she'd never believed it.
Jane had looked forward to the first game, buying a cute, sporty outfit and new sneakers. Her game plan had been to stand around looking smashing while other people yelled cheerful things like, "Heads up," and "I've got it." But John Wagner had disabused her of this concept within the first five minutes. His remarks to her had included, "If I'd known you couldn't hit an elephant in a closet, I'd have gotten that ball," and "You've never heard of spiking, then?" and "If you'd quit carrying on like that it would stop hurting.”
She never went back, and Steve lasted only three more weeks before coming home in a rage, muttering about neighborhood bullies.
John Wagner and Bobby Bryant trussed up together by family ties was impossible to imagine. "Yes, it was volleyball," she said to Phyllis and, refraining from rubbing her hands together in glee, asked, "How does John like Bobby?”
Phyllis looked troubled. "It's odd, Jane. They don't get along at all. John was quite rude to Bobby both times they met. I suppose it's jealousy. All men are just grown-ups boys, aren't they?"
“Jealousy? Of what?"
“Chet's affection, of course.”
Or Chet's money, Jane thought. As Phyllis's son, Bobby might have a financial claim on her and, therefore, on Chet. John Wagner wasn't a model person, but it wasn't unreasonable that he might fear and dislike Bobby even more than most people would.
Aside from Phyllis, did the boy have a friend in the world?
Sooner or later, she was going to have to hear about Phyllis's marital problems, so she decided to get it over with. Jane asked, "Why didn't Chet come with you to Chicago?”
Phyllis paused a long time before she answered. "I—I really don't know. I thought it would be wonderful to have a good old-fashioned Christmas here—a nice dinner with John and Joannie and all Bobby's adopted family. But Chet never liked the idea. I kept bringing it up, and I guess it irritated him, because he finally said—”
She stopped, as if choking on the next words.
With a sort of funny hiccup, she suddenly got up and ran to the guest bathroom. Before Jane could figure out what to do, Phyllis came back, dabbing at her eyes with a folded piece of toilet paper. "I'm so sorry to act silly, Jane. I want to tell you the truth and get it over with, but it's so hard for me to say. You see, Chet finally said I should just take Bobby and go to Chicago—forever, if I wanted.”
She started sniffling into the toilet paper. "I didn't want that. Not in a million years, but he kept insisting, and then one day I had a terrible headache—not that that's a good reason—and I snapped back and said I'd be glad to go away from him. I didn't mean it, Jane. You know I didn't mean it. But the next morning, Chet was gone. He'd flown off on a business trip without even letting me say I was sorry. On the bedside table were two one-way plane tickets and a checkbook. Jane, I should have just torn them up, but I got mad instead. And after that—I don't know. It just got worse. Bobby even tried to find Chet to talk to him and explain that we didn't want to leave—"
“I'll bet he did," Jane said, thinking what a shock it must have been for greedy Bobby to find he was about to be out of a life he'd just discovered suited him so well. "I mean—”
But Phyllis had accepted the remark at face value and plowed on, still sniffling. "I've seen things on television about men having middle-age problems. Male menopause, I think they call it, although I think that's a peculiar term. Still, I think that's what Chet must be going through. I know he didn't really want me to leave, but I did go so that he'd have the time and freedom to rethink our marriage. He's just being irrational. I'm praying he'll come to his senses. We've had the most perfect marriage in the world, and nothing's changed, but Chet has turned into a different person for no reason."
“Phyllis, there has been a change. Bobby."
“But that's a change for the good!" Phyllis insisted. "Chet is crazy about Bobby. He offered to send him to college or on a nice long trip to Switzerland for the skiing—”
—Anything to get him out of his hair, Jane thought. Surely even Phyllis couldn't fail to see the truth in this. And yet, it was amazing what people could fail to see if they put their minds in it, she realized with a sick feeling. She herself had managed to be completely blind to her own husband having an affair right under her nose. When Steve had announced that he was leaving her, it had been a hideous shock. She'd never suspected, and even if someone had tried to tip her off in advance, she probably would have refused to believe it. Just like Phyllis was working so hard at not understanding the trouble.