Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(77)

Her first words were “I hope you don’t mind driving.”

“No, not at all,” Gina said as she tried to ignore the smell of alcohol that seemed to grow stronger each time her passenger exhaled.

“Do you know Barney’s Steakhouse?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. This is my first time in this area.”

“That’s all right. It’s about ten minutes from here. I’ll direct you. Start by turning around.”

Barney’s was in a converted barn. About ten tables were spaced around the almost windowless structure. A bar with seating for six was on the left. A Hank Williams tune played softly from an ancient jukebox.

After they seated themselves, a waitress came over, greeted Lucinda by name, and handed them menus. “Can I get you anything from the bar?”

Lucinda looked at Gina. “You’re buyin’, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Gina responded, once again wishing the magazine was covering her expenses. Lucinda ordered a Scotch while Gina contented herself with a Pinot Grigio, the only white wine they carried.

“I know what I want,” Lucinda said. “Why don’t you take a look so we can order when she comes back.”

Gina glanced at the menu then put it down. “I want to thank you again, Mrs. Stephenson, for agreeing to meet me on such short notice—”

“Call me Lucinda. Everybody does. My daddy named me that because he loved to play ‘Lucinda Waltz’ on his accordion. It was about the only song he knew,” she said breaking into a loud laugh.

“Okay, Lucinda it is. We spoke briefly on the phone last night. Are you familiar with the MeToo movement?”

“They talk about that a lot on TV.”

“That’s right. They do. For a lot of years women who were taken advantage of, abused, in the workplace either suffered in silence or left the company and never shared their story with anyone. They thought correctly that the deck was stacked against them and no one would believe them.”

“Did this happen to my Paula?” Lucinda asked in a voice now filled with sadness.

The waitress placed their drinks in front of them. Gina ordered the eight-ounce filet; Lucinda the twenty-six-ounce prime. They continued after the waitress walked away.

“I’m almost certain it did. But thanks to MeToo, women who come forward with complaints are now being listened to. In most cases, their accusations are taken seriously. All companies hate bad publicity. Many choose to make confidential cash settlements with the victims to keep everything quiet and make it go away.”

“Are these big settlements, more than a hundred thousand dollars?”

“Yes, they are.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

Lucinda caught the eye of the waitress, jiggled her now empty glass, and turned back to Gina.

“My son Jordan, Paula’s baby brother, three years younger, he got caught up in the opioid mess.”

“I’m so sorry. Is he,” she paused, “all right?”

“He’s doing much better. The treatment, if you can find it, is so expensive, more than I could ever afford.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last year.”

“Did you reach out to Paula for help?”

“I did, but not right away. Paula and I loved each other in our own way, but we didn’t always get along. She was a neatnick. I was the opposite. She wasn’t but twelve or thirteen when she started getting on me about drinking too much. We fought about that a lot. Maybe I should have listened to her.”

“I haven’t heard any mention of Paula’s father. Is he in the picture?”

Lucinda took a long sip and slowly put the glass down on the table. “He’s gone, thank God. He drove his truck into a ravine two years ago. Of course, no seatbelt and drunk as usual. It’s because of him Paula and me stopped talking.”

“What happened?”

“Paula was always smart as a whip. She got herself a full scholarship to University of Nebraska in Lincoln. She was a beautiful girl and was working at the college TV station. Her senior year she came home for Christmas break. Her father and I had stopped,” she paused searching for the right words, “being husband and wife a while ago. Lloyd came home late, I’m sure really drunk, went into Paula’s room and tried to get in her bed. There was a lot of yellin’ and fightin’. Thank the Lord nothing really bad happened.”

“What did you do?”

“Lloyd said he just made a mistake about which room he was in.”

“And you believed him?”

“It’s not easy when two family members who hate each other are both asking you to take their side.”

“What did Paula do?”

“She took off the next morning, went back to Lincoln to finish her senior year. She left me a note saying she was never coming home again. Don’t bother to look for her.”

“Did you ever see her after that?”

“No, but when her brother was going through his troubles, I tried to find her, hoping maybe he’d listen to her. A friend who was visiting relatives in Dayton saw her on the TV. She wouldn’t take my calls or answer any messages so I wrote her a long letter about Jordan’s problems.”

“Did you finally connect with her?”