BJ Vadis, a
large,burly man with a thick shock of silver-gray hair and piercing blue eyes under bushy brows that moved up and down to punctuate
his sentences. A sober Scandinavian without much humor in him but loving and generous in his fashion, he had adored Ellen
and been kind to Roxanne and Simone.
Roxanne didn’t think he’d ever cavorted like Johnny. Cavorting just wasn’t in his nature.
Roxanne had no particular memories of BJ before she was ten or eleven, when he began to distinguish himself as someone important
to her mother. With one memorable exception, they never ate a meal alone together. Shortly after the party to announce Simone’s
and Johnny’s engagement, BJ invited Roxanne to dine with him at Rainwater’s, an expensive steak house favored by conservatives
in the business community. At the time Roxanne shared an apartment with Elizabeth and was paying off school loans and credit
card debt, trying to save for the down payment on a house. Filet mignon was a rare treat.
“Glad you could come, Roxy,” he said, sounding like he meant it. He pulled out her chair. “I thought maybe those students
of yours mighta wore you out.”
The students at Balboa Middle School did wear her out, but they entertained and stimulated her too. It had been her good fortune
to find the work she loved early in life. That night she had talked for a while about the challenges posed by a classroom
crowded with more than thirty boys and girls deep in puberty.
“You deserve hazard pay for that job. And a martini? One’s not gonna make you tipsy.”
They talked about Simone and Johnny.
Roxanne said, “I like him.”
“Do you suppose there was ever anyone who did not like Johnny Duran?” BJ pulled the olive off the toothpick with his teeth.
“Your mom’s happy, although between you and me and Old Blue Eyes, I think she was hoping for someone with a title.”
Roxanne laughed, though it seemed a little dangerous to be out in public with BJ making fun of Ellen.
“He’s going to be a very rich man someday. I talked to a couple fellas I know, builders like Johnny, and they say he’s a man
to watch.”
Roxanne had only one reservation. “It’ll be a big life. I wonder how she’ll manage.” It wasn’t necessary to explain what she
meant.
“We talked about that. I told him the same thing you would. You’ll always be there to help her out, make sure she doesn’t
get overwhelmed.”
Roxanne remembered her reaction to his words, the impulse that rushed into her making her want to stand up and walk out of
Rainwater’s. She’d never do it but the urge was there and powerful enough to make her hands shake. When had she become a tool
to be handed around as needed?
“Johnny knows she’s young and got a delicate disposition. He promises he’ll take it easy, bring her along slow.”BJ leaned back, resting his forearms comfortably along the arms of the chair. “And what’s gonna be so hard for her anyway?
It doesn’t take many brains to give a party. All she’ll have to do is hire the right people, and you and Ellen can help her
do that. And what pretty girl doesn’t like to buy a new party dress?”
Roxanne had wondered how much BJ actually knew about Simone, what he guessed or had been told. Her mother had insulated him
from the worst of her moods; and if he noticed that she often missed school and stayed in her room for days at a time, he
never commented to Roxanne.
BJ pulled an envelope out of his lapel. He laid it on the white tablecloth beside her wineglass. “You can open this now or
later. Your choice.”
“What is it?”
“Take a look if you’re curious.”
She slit the envelope with her knife and drew out a check written on BJ’s private account.
“This is our little secret, okay?” He reached across the table and took her hand. “You’re a good girl, Roxy.”
She looked at the check, counted the zeros.
“I don’t understand.”
BJ beamed,
large,burly man with a thick shock of silver-gray hair and piercing blue eyes under bushy brows that moved up and down to punctuate
his sentences. A sober Scandinavian without much humor in him but loving and generous in his fashion, he had adored Ellen
and been kind to Roxanne and Simone.
Roxanne didn’t think he’d ever cavorted like Johnny. Cavorting just wasn’t in his nature.
Roxanne had no particular memories of BJ before she was ten or eleven, when he began to distinguish himself as someone important
to her mother. With one memorable exception, they never ate a meal alone together. Shortly after the party to announce Simone’s
and Johnny’s engagement, BJ invited Roxanne to dine with him at Rainwater’s, an expensive steak house favored by conservatives
in the business community. At the time Roxanne shared an apartment with Elizabeth and was paying off school loans and credit
card debt, trying to save for the down payment on a house. Filet mignon was a rare treat.
“Glad you could come, Roxy,” he said, sounding like he meant it. He pulled out her chair. “I thought maybe those students
of yours mighta wore you out.”
The students at Balboa Middle School did wear her out, but they entertained and stimulated her too. It had been her good fortune
to find the work she loved early in life. That night she had talked for a while about the challenges posed by a classroom
crowded with more than thirty boys and girls deep in puberty.
“You deserve hazard pay for that job. And a martini? One’s not gonna make you tipsy.”
They talked about Simone and Johnny.
Roxanne said, “I like him.”
“Do you suppose there was ever anyone who did not like Johnny Duran?” BJ pulled the olive off the toothpick with his teeth.
“Your mom’s happy, although between you and me and Old Blue Eyes, I think she was hoping for someone with a title.”
Roxanne laughed, though it seemed a little dangerous to be out in public with BJ making fun of Ellen.
“He’s going to be a very rich man someday. I talked to a couple fellas I know, builders like Johnny, and they say he’s a man
to watch.”
Roxanne had only one reservation. “It’ll be a big life. I wonder how she’ll manage.” It wasn’t necessary to explain what she
meant.
“We talked about that. I told him the same thing you would. You’ll always be there to help her out, make sure she doesn’t
get overwhelmed.”
Roxanne remembered her reaction to his words, the impulse that rushed into her making her want to stand up and walk out of
Rainwater’s. She’d never do it but the urge was there and powerful enough to make her hands shake. When had she become a tool
to be handed around as needed?
“Johnny knows she’s young and got a delicate disposition. He promises he’ll take it easy, bring her along slow.”BJ leaned back, resting his forearms comfortably along the arms of the chair. “And what’s gonna be so hard for her anyway?
It doesn’t take many brains to give a party. All she’ll have to do is hire the right people, and you and Ellen can help her
do that. And what pretty girl doesn’t like to buy a new party dress?”
Roxanne had wondered how much BJ actually knew about Simone, what he guessed or had been told. Her mother had insulated him
from the worst of her moods; and if he noticed that she often missed school and stayed in her room for days at a time, he
never commented to Roxanne.
BJ pulled an envelope out of his lapel. He laid it on the white tablecloth beside her wineglass. “You can open this now or
later. Your choice.”
“What is it?”
“Take a look if you’re curious.”
She slit the envelope with her knife and drew out a check written on BJ’s private account.
“This is our little secret, okay?” He reached across the table and took her hand. “You’re a good girl, Roxy.”
She looked at the check, counted the zeros.
“I don’t understand.”
BJ beamed,
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