Chapter 25

LINDY

The day was darkening with angry clouds rolling in from the north as Lindy walked through the curving streets of 1950s tract homes known as the Meadow. Like the rest of Wolf River, the Meadow was decaying. Although, at thirty years, it was still one of the newest sections of the town, it had fared worse than others.

The two- and three-bedroom houses, put up during the boom of the 1950s, lasted about ten years, then began to fall apart. Neglect and the passage of time had taken a toll, and the cheap materials originally used by the developer speeded the deterioration.

After hearing the news from Merilee Lund that her father was back in Wolf River, Lindy had looked up Wendell Grant in the phone book and found him listed on Lilac Lane, one of the saccharine names given to the streets when they were still paths marked out with colorful flags. She had tried to call, but static on the line kept her from getting through.

Now, as she stood before the house where her father lived, she was having doubts about coming out here. The look of the house made her groan inwardly.

The paint was flaking from the clapboard walls, the lawn was unmowed and weedy, one shutter was missing on a front window, and another hung awry from a single hinge. Visible in the garage was the dented rear end of a ten-year-old station wagon.

Nothing about this pathetic house reminded Lindy of her father. Not the father she remembered.

She drew a deep breath and walked up the short concrete path to the front door. A three-by-five card tacked over the door was hand-lettered: BELL OUT OF ORDER.

Lindy knocked. She heard movement inside, and the door opened about eight inches. It took her a moment to recognize the pinched, suspicious face that peered out as that of her stepmother. Norma Wirthwein had been a dark, thin girl, pretty and vivacious when Judge Grant married her. Now only the lively brown eyes were unchanged.

"Yes?"

Lindy found her voice. "Norma?"

The woman opened the door wider to look at her. Norma was still thin - painfully so. The cheap print dress hung on her like a badly folded sheet.

"Well, look what we've got here," she said. "It's Lindy, isn't it?"

Lindy nodded.

"You know, we never expected to see you back in Wolf River. Nobody did."

"Well, here I am." When Norma said nothing, she went on. "I didn't know you and my father were back living here."

"We didn't exactly announce it on television. Maybe you didn't hear about the mess in Madison."

"No."

"I guess it wasn't such big news out there in Hollywood, but everybody around here sure heard about it." Her mouth quirked in a bitter parody of a smile. "I suppose you want to see your father."

Lindy began to get irritated. "That's what I came out here for."

"You might as well come in."

Lindy followed her stepmother into the living room. There was none of. the furniture she remembered from the old Elm Street house. The sofa, chairs, and rickety end tables looked like mismatched Sears Roebuck. The sofa had been recovered in a flowered print that didn't match anything else in the room. The carpet had a large dark stain near the doorway to the kitchen. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in gloomy twilight.

"Wendell!" the woman called. "Somebody to see you."

"Who is it?" came a muffled voice from another room.

"A surprise. Come on out."

From out of what Lindy assumed must be the bedroom shuffled a man who superficially resembled her father of twenty years ago. The face was still handsome, though thinner, and he needed a shave. The hair was grayer and poorly cut.

The biggest change was in his bearing. Where Judge Grant used to stride into a room and take possession of it, this man entered tentatively, as though fearful he might be ordered back out. His smile had a guilty quaver. He wore a pair of suit pants that needed pressing, and a gray cardigan sweater over a plaid shirt.

"Lindy? My gosh, it is you, isn't it?"

She wanted to say, My God, what's happened to you? but she held it in.

"Hello, Daddy."

He came forward to embrace her, but as his arms went around her Lindy could feel him looking over her shoulder at his wife, as though for permission. He released Lindy and stepped back. "Gosh, you look wonderful. What brings you back home after all this time?"

"Daddy, this isn't my home anymore."

He seemed not to hear. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"It was a sudden decision. And I didn't even know you were living back in Wolf River."

His eyes shifted away from hers as the old Judge Grant's eyes would never have done.

"I guess we haven't been very good about writing." He came back to her. "You didn't exactly keep in touch either, you know."

"No, I suppose I didn't."

An uncomfortable silence grew in the room.

Norma said, "Maybe I ought to leave you two alone to relive old times."

"No, no, dear," Wendell Grant said quickly. "You don't have to leave."

"I know I don't have to," Norma said with peculiar emphasis. "But it will give you a chance to talk about me."

Lindy looked at him curiously, but his attention was on his wife, his eyes pleading.

"I've got some shopping to do anyway," Norma said.

"Have you got enough money?"

"Never enough," Norma said, "but I'll make do."

"Better take an umbrella," said the judge. "Feels like it's going to rain."

Norma shrugged him off. To Lindy she said, "Nice seeing you," and went out.

Wendell Grant clapped his hands together in a charade of heartiness and laughed without feeling. "Well, shall we sit down and have a talk?"

"I can't stay long," Lindy said.

"Too bad." He looked around the cheap living room. "It's not much like the old place, I guess."

"No, not much."

"When we moved to Madison I sold the Elm Street house and the furniture along with it. It was too big, anyway. And Norma said it was too gloomy and old-fashioned." Quickly he added, "She was right, of course."

"Of course," Lindy said dryly. Then she could no longer hold it in. "Daddy, what's happened to you?"

"Happened?"

"You're so... different. Norma said something about a scandal while you were living in Madison."

Wendell Grant seemed to grow smaller before his daughter's eyes. He walked over to the flowered couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside him for her. His face suddenly showed all of his sixty-seven years.

"There are a couple of things I've done in my life that I'm not proud of," he said. "That was one of them. I was counsel to the legislative highway commission. One of the commissioners got involved in a conflict-of-interest mess. There was a bribery thing involving a construction company, and kickbacks to members of the governor's staff. Very complicated. And very ugly."

"You were involved in that?"

Slowly he nodded. "I was. It started out just doing a favor for a friend. Rearranging the names on some corporate documents. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't think anyone would get hurt. Then it kind of got away from me."

"What happened?"

"There were no indictments or anything. Nobody went to prison. But there were deals made that put some people out of the state government and into retirement. I was one of them. The legal expenses pretty well wiped me out. I was lucky to have Norma. She stood by me through the whole thing."

"Wasn't she the one who pushed you into getting involved in politics in the first place?"

"I wouldn't say pushed, exactly. She thought there would be opportunities for us in Madison, and there were, until I messed everything up."

"Oh, Daddy." Lindy stared at her father, more shocked by his feeble acceptance of his fate than she was by the confession.

"But, hey, we're doing all right," he said. "I get a pretty good pension, and Norma does some design work for stores in Milwaukee."

"That's good," Lindy said dully.

"Now tell me, what brings you back to town?"

"Class reunion."

Her father's face darkened. "Your high school class?"

"That's right. What's the matter?"

"It wasn't a very happy class."

"No, it wasn't." She made a decision. "Daddy, there's something I always wanted to tell you about what happened my last year in high school. Something you may already suspect."

He gave her the counterfeit laugh again. "Hey, honey, you were a pretty grown-up girl. Whatever it was, you seem to have gotten over it."

"I'm not sure I did," she said.

"Hey, this sounds serious."

"It is," she said. "And it's important. I want to tell you about Frazier Nunley."

"No." He shook his head. "It's too late to talk about all that old news."

"It's not too late. I think it's because of Frazier I'm here now."

He moved away from her on the couch. "I don't know what you mean."

"Just let me tell you what happened."

Wendell Grant checked his watch. "I wonder what's keeping Norma."

"Daddy, she just left."

"I wou1dn't want her to get caught in the storm."

He got up and crossed to the front window. There he pulled the curtain aside to peek out. Lindy waited for him to turn back, but he just kept watching the street.

Finally she said, "You don't want to hear this, do you?"

"Hear what, honey?"

"What I want to tell you about Frazier Nunley. And what happened at that Halloween Ball."

"Hey, I'll talk about anything you want," Judge Grant said. "I was just wondering if maybe I ought to see if Norma's all right."

Lindy sighed heavily, saddened by the slump of her father's shoulders. She said, "Never mind, Daddy. I guess I'd better be going."

Judge Grant turned from the window. His relief was evident. "Do you have to?"

"Yes, I think I do. I'm staying at the inn, if you want to call me or anything."

"The inn," he repeated. "Yes, I've got that. Hey, it was great seeing you, Lindy."

Impulsively she ran into his arms. "You too, Daddy." She hugged him very hard, and for a moment felt the old strength return to his arms as he hugged her back. Then the station wagon pulled into the driveway and his embrace went limp.

"Goodbye, Daddy," Lindy said. She hurried out before she would have to face her stepmother again.