Part 5.2 – A Grandiose Gift
Perry drove the now familiar route from the hospital to the house on East Carmelo Avenue, this time with Alice Street and Mae Kirby in the Cadillac, his nerves a bit on edge, determined to show Della's family the depth of his commitment to her. Della was definitely better this day, her breathing almost normal, her voice still croaky and congested but she spoke in full sentences now. Tart, sharp sentences that bothered him but seemed to escape her family. When they had burst into her room, Della and Kathy had been engaged in conversation, and it was apparent to him that it hadn't gone well between them. Della was uncharacteristically jumpy and grouchy, Kathy seemingly subdued and sad. She quickly excused herself without saying much to them, and he caught Della's searing gaze follow her from the room. All he could think was 'uh oh'.
After a lively visit of perhaps forty minutes, both Mae and Alice began to yawn from weariness and stress, and Jamie insisted that they get hotel rooms, some food, and plenty of sleep. Perry could take them while he and Robbie remained with Della, he proposed. Everyone thought it was a good plan, so Perry didn't protest, especially when Della gave him an encouraging smile. He felt pushed out and unnecessary now that she was better, unsure as to how much of their relationship she wanted him to reveal. When she had been mostly unconscious it had been easy to be himself and show his feelings. He knew if only half of what he had said and done got back to her there would be one hell of a conversation between them.
So since they were going to have a knock-down-drag-out-take-no-prisoners conversation anyway, he automatically steered the car in the direction of the house, making a decision without consulting her. He couldn't stand by and let the Streets pay money for hotel rooms when he had a house with four bedrooms, at which Martin should be this very moment outfitting for guests. Mae and Alice were too tired to notice that they were driving through residential neighborhoods and not the commercial area where there were many lovely hotels, until they reached the magic spot in the winding road.
Alice sat forward suddenly. "That house," she said, pointing out the windshield. "I've seen that house before."
Perry merely nodded, which Alice didn't see. He turned the car into the drive and could almost feel her excitement, the same as he had felt Della's just seven days ago.
"Is this a bed and breakfast?" Mae called from the back seat.
Perry brought the car to a stop and turned off the ignition. "Something like that," he said vaguely. There was a delivery truck parked in the circular drive, and Martin Hightower, the indispensable designer he had hired to manage the renovations and decorating, was standing on the porch with a clipboard, directing several men where to take the various pieces of furniture they were carrying.
"They must be remodeling," Mae observed.
Alice had said nothing since pointing out the house, and sat in silence while Perry walked behind the Cadillac and helped first Mae and then Alice from the car. She stared at the house in awe and confusion.
"Looks like the Martin house, doesn't it?" Perry asked with feigned innocence, taking the elbow of each sister and escorting them toward the front steps.
Alice's mouth gaped open and if he wasn't propelling her forward she might have stood stock-still in shock.
"Mr. Mason!" Martin Hightower hailed Perry excitedly from the porch steps. "I didn't expect you back until later." He held out his hand in greeting.
Perry accepted the exuberant handshake. "Martin, it's good to see you again. The ladies are tired and need to eat. Will we be in anyone's way if we head right back to the kitchen?"
Perry introduced Alice and Mae to Martin as they stood at the base of the stairs while the movers continued to take one piece of furniture after another into the house and up the stairs. Banging could be heard from upstairs as bed frames were no doubt being assembled and drawers put back in dressers.
Martin efficiently checked off items from a list clipped to the board in his hand. "Absolutely not Mr. Mason, go right on in. The men are almost finished, and will be leaving soon. I'll join you in a bit to go over everything."
Perry cut in between the men and ushered Mae and Alice into the house. Both women said nothing as he directed them to the back of the house, into the large airy kitchen. Then Alice turned on him.
"What is this, Mr. Mason?"
"It's a house," he replied, greatly enjoying her befuddlement.
"Don't be a smart ass. It's an almost exact replica of the Martin house in New Jersey. How is this possible?"
Perry shot a glance at Mae. It appeared that the sisters shared a salty tongue. "I'm sure I don't know, Mrs. Street. It's merely a coincidence in a long line of coincidences."
"This is where you brought Della," Mae said almost accusingly. "This is where you were staying when she got sick. Is this your house, Perry?"
"The deed is in the name of D. Paige Street. She lets me stay here."
Alice Street sat down hard in one of the kitchen chairs. "If I were a violent woman I would slap you Mr. Mason. Stop being such a wise acre and tell us what's going on here. Why is my daughter's name on the deed to this house?"
Perry pulled out a chair for Mae, ran water in the teakettle, lit a burner on the stove and put water on to boil. He took a seat at the table and smiled at the women. "Della's name is on the deed because I bought it for her. She told me about the Martin house and how much spending summers at the Jersey shore meant to her. I was in Carmel for a deposition and saw this house, so much like Della's description of the Martin house, and couldn't believe it. I wasn't even supposed to be in Carmel, but the witness in a case became incapacitated and I drove down to meet with him and his attorney at his summer home. I made a wrong turn, and there it was."
"It could be the same house," Alice Street confirmed. Her eyes held the same faraway look as her daughter's as she absorbed all the similarities in the house to that house in New Jersey. "Why did you buy this house in Della's name?" she asked again.
"Because," Perry began patiently, "Della gets homesick sometimes and I thought having a bit of her childhood would make her happy."
"She was homesick, so you bought her a house," Alice Street repeated under her breath. "Tell me, Mr. Mason, if we had spent time on Mackinac Island during the summers, would you have bought her an island?"
"If that would make her happy, yes."
Mae sat back in the chair, her arms stretched out in front of her. "I don't know about you, Alice, but I think Della is one very lucky young woman."
"Thank you, Mae," Perry said gratefully. "But what I give to her isn't half of what she gives to me."
"Are you always this…this…grandiose in your gifts, Mr. Mason?" Alice Street demanded.
"Grandiose? Where did that word come from?" Mae chided her sister.
Perry dimpled deeply. Mae had joined forces with him finally. "Mrs. Street, I'm fully aware you don't approve of Della's personal involvement with me, but I want you to know that her happiness is my happiness, and I plan to spend the rest of my life keeping her happy. She won't be pleased with me for telling you this or for bringing you here, because I realize she guards our privacy even with you, but I think you deserve to know what's going on."
"A house will be hard to top. She went through a phase at fifteen and wanted to learn how to fly. Are you going to buy her an airplane next?"
Perry placed his hand over hers, which were clasped tightly together on the table top. "If she wanted to learn to fly I would arrange for flying lessons and encourage her all I could. And then I would buy her an airplane."
"Usually a man and a woman are married before he buys her a house," Alice pointed out, refusing to be mollified by or to laugh at his joke.
"That's something you'll have to discuss with Della," he replied smoothly. "I've already said and done enough to fuel a two-day discussion with her. Possibly three."
Mae's hand came down on top of Perry's. "Alice, I've been fortunate enough to spend quite a bit of time with Della and Perry –"
"You don't have to keep reminding me that I don't know anything about my daughter's life, Mae," Alice said in clipped, acidic tones.
"Alice, she didn't run away from you," Mae exclaimed in exasperation. "Stop making me the bad guy because I gave her a place to hide when she needed it. You're her mother and she loves you. But she knew this is exactly how you would react to her life out here, so she kept it to herself."
"You approve of her lifestyle? That she practically lives with this man without being married?"
Mae avoided Perry's eyes. "I didn't say I approve. But she's a grown up and has a right to live how she sees fit. She still needs you, Alice. She probably needs you more than she ever has, probably more than she realizes. Don't shut her out because you're too stubborn to open your eyes to what she sees."
Alice looked down at the pile of hands in front of her. Mae's small and square with short fingers, a competent hand like their mother's. Perry's was large and long-fingered, strong but gentle on hers. It was a quirk of fate that she had inherited their father's hands in a feminine form, well-proportioned and elegant, and even quirkier that her daughter had inherited them as well considering her husband's broad, stubby fingered hands. She heaved a sigh.
"Mr. Mason," she said, "after we have a very much needed cup of tea, would you be so kind as to show me around my daughter's house?"
Mae rolled her eyes. "Jeez-o-pete, Alice, call him by his name already, will you?"