Page 16 of Phoenix Fire

Maybe it was simply that he could not, would not, face the truth about himself. No matter the jealousy, favoritism, whatever his perceptions, it had always been easier for him to rebel, to play the role of the aggrieved. Perhaps it was his way to subliminally belittle the talents and the achievements of a younger brother. A sibling rivalry had somehow formed, and it was easier for Carlton to mock and cajole than to join in a friendly sibling competition; it was easier to try and take away from, to discount, Jason's accomplishments; it was easier for Carlton to cause problems and to get in Jason's way.

Did he love his brother? Yes, he loved him. That made him, what? Hell, he was just who he was. Carlton’s acknowledgment of this sibling paradox both amused and unsettled him. The four Manhattans were making him too soppy.

Carlton had to get away from this kind of thinking. It was easier to think about Jenny Mason. Now, there was a lovely lady. Too lovely for Jason! Not really, but it was easier to think so. Too much of a woman for Jason! Probably not, but it was easier to think so. In any event, Jason already had a love affair going with his 'Apple Brown Betty.' Jason did not have the time for a pretty lady like Jenny Mason. Maybe, just maybe, Carlton should help his good brother out, sort of keep it in the family. Maybe a little of that sibling competition was in order.

'Apple Brown Betty.' What a stupid name for a real estate development project! It was just the kind of name Jason would come up with.

His brother, Jason, was a righteous man, moral, upstanding, so pure. Jason was so all together, so typically all American in every way. Jason was Grandmother Wimsley's shining star, her polished medallion of perfection.

But, there Carlton goes again, he thought. Grandmother Wimsley had helped him a lot, maybe under false pretenses, his false pretenses, but she had helped him nonetheless. And, maybe grandmother Wimsley even loved him in her own way. Of course, she loved him! He had to stop with the crap! But, at least, he was right about Jason being her favorite. She could not hide that sparkle in her eyes when Jason was around. Grandfather Wimsley was more even in distributing his attention. That is, the attention he had time to give. Again, he was not being fair.

Oh, well, Grandfather Wimsley was gone. All was as it was. There was nothing Carlton could really do to change it all. Oh, really! How about the attitude, pal? No, it was too much fun this way, he thought.

Jenny Mason, however, was another matter. She was a lovely lady. He thought back to the night of Grandmother Wimsley's dinner. Had Jenny given him the eye once or twice? He could not be sure. Perhaps she was just being friendly and sociable. Then, again, one could never tell. After all, sibling rivalry, competition, all that good stuff, was likely very important in families.

It was 9:00 PM when he left his bar stool and went to the bank of phones in the walled space outside the rest rooms. He found Jenny Mason's phone number in the directory and dialed it. Leaning unsteadily against the wall he let her phone ring seven or eight times. No answer. Back at the bar, he ordered another Manhattan.

Jenny was probably out with Jason. She had not answered last night either. She must go out a lot, he thought. Why the hell not! She was beautiful and no doubt in high demand, no doubt had many suitors. He would like to be her suitor. There was, beyond her physical appeal, something else that was drawing Carlton to her. He could not say exactly what it was, but he felt it strongly. He definitely wanted to know her better.

Perhaps tomorrow he would accidentally run into her at lunch time. He would just leave his office earlier than usual, hang around her office building for a while, see where she went to dine. She did not strike him as a brown bagger. She would be the 'eat out' type.

He sat through another Manhattan. Strange, he thought, he had never sat at a bar this long. But he had needed to unwind, particularly after his meeting with the goon, Danzetti. He chuckled to himself. He had done a damned good job of unwinding. He was so relaxed and pleasantly buzzed that he began to get antsy. All the thinking! Too much! He needed some radical change of pace.

He checked his watch, debated, decided not to call Jenny Mason again. She was likely not home in any event. He thought about her, about how she had conveyed warmth, a certain animal magnetism, So lovely, she was, and so desirable. He could see her face in his mind's eye and he unconsciously moved his tongue over his lips.

His mind, all of a sudden, did an abrupt turn, and he thought of Sheila. Damn, he was supposed to have seen her tonight for dinner at her place. The Danzetti business had thrown him off track.

Sheila? She was okay, good to him, likely in love with him. She was pretty and sexy, but not in the same league as Jenny Mason. When they had first met, he had thought that she would come to mean more in his life. But they had run their course. He had tired of her, of the sameness in her routines, her placid life style. He knew that she wanted him, long term commitment and all. She had even begun, ever so manipulatively, to throw out her thinly veiled feelers. There were a few times when, in his anger, he had perhaps overreacted. But, dammit, he did not like being manipulated.

Women! They could be so subtle. They could even be recklessly bold at times. He had never met a woman who could hold his attention for very long. Actually, Sheila had done pretty well in holding his attention, and, truth be known, he probably felt more for her than he was admitting to himself.

Okay, time out! Enough! He couldn't start giving too much to the enemy.

Jenny Mason, now! She was a keeper, a definite possibility. Maybe, just, maybe …

He checked his watch again. 10:00 PM. He loosened the knot on his tie. He began to notice all the activity around him. Voila! Where had he been with all the thinking? The place was jumping with beautiful people. He was truly surprised that he for so long was not aware of his surroundings.

A familiar feeling awakened within him He fought the feeling for about ten minutes. He asked for his tab, got it, paid it, and went again to the bank of telephones.

He dialed a familiar number. A familiar voice answered. Then, Carlton Prince asked a familiar question.

“Where's the game tonight?”

Chapter Eleven

Myrena Wimsley was surprised when Sheila Broward had called and asked if she could stop by for a visit. Sheila had never called before and Myrena was sure the reason for Sheila’s visit was to discuss Carlton. What else could it be? Myrena and Sheila shared no social calendar, although Myrena had invited Sheila to call and visit. The fact that Sheila was now doing just that came as a surprise.

Myrena asked Rosemary to prepare a finger sandwich tray and some lemonade. Now, at 11:35 AM, Myrena and Sheila sat in the day room, the finger sandwiches so far untouched. The sunlight was heavy in the room, but the specially treated windows kept the temperature steady. It was a 'happy' room with gay colors and furnishings. It was supposed to be a 'happy room,' but Myrena somehow suspected by Sheila’s tentative and timid behavior that the atmosphere was soon to change. They sipped the lemonade, discussed the weather and flower gardens for the first few moments.

When an uncomfortable pause came, Sheila began.

“Myrena, you must know that I feel very close to you and I suspect you realize that Carlton and I have reached a crossroad in our relationship.” Sheila began to choke up, paused, sighed, swallowed hard, and nodded slightly with a weak grin.

Myrena placed her hand on Sheila’s arm. “It's all right, my dear, just take your time.”

“Oh, Myrena, it's just so hard. I've just been kidding myself for several months now that Carlton and I are going in the same direction. But we're not, and I ...” A word caught in her throat, and she again swallowed hard. “I won't be seeing Carlton again, Myrena, and it breaks my heart. I love him so much and I had such high hopes for us: marriage, perhaps, children, at least, a long union together. But it is never going to happen. I know that now. Perhaps you've known it all along, longer than I have known, but I'm sort of retarded when it comes to men, I guess, when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Myrena smiled sadly and again touched Sheila’s arm. “It's difficult to ever fully understand Carlton, my dear.”

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