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Chapter 10
First, CC decided to talk to Pearl.
He came to Johnny's Place, the cafe where Pearl worked as a waiter, soon after it opened. There was
hardly a customer other than himself, and it suited CC.
He occupied a table in the corner, and, natural enough, Pearl the waiter approached him. His dark hair was
dishevelled; and there was his braid, his apron, his kitchen towel, his eternal earring - phew.
"Morning, Mr Capwell."
"Good morning Pearl. Or shall I say, Michael? Or Mr Bradford, rather?
Pearl's amicable smile did not fade. "Pearl's the name," he informed CC. "I like it."
"Ok." CC leant back. "Would you sit down with me for a minute - Pearl?"
"Don't think I should. Ready to order?"
"Come on, there're no customers here yet."
Reluctantly, Pearl sat down.
"Strange," CC remarked. "You dated my niece, then got friends with my own daughter, and all the time I
had no idea you were a Bradford."
"Maybe it's not important," Pearl supposed.
He did not like to be reminded of Courtney; as to Kelly, the wound still had not healed. He was trying hard
to let bygones be bygones. He'd just started paying advances to an Eleanor Norris, and he was really
trying to and forget about the Capwell girls*; they just were not for him.
"Well, it's your life," CC agreed. "Pearl, you're a sensible young man, and you know everybody out here - I
get the impression you're actually friends with everybody. What can you say of Julia Wainwright?"
This, Pearl liked even less. When someone like CC suddenly started on compliments...
"She's my friend all right," he replied. "A very good lawyer who never goes against her moral principles.
And a very good friend, too. You can ask Cruz, or Eden, or Ma-"
"Maybe I will but now I'm asking y o u."
"Ok, then I've answered. Anything else? A cup of coffee?" Pearl started getting up.
"Why did she want a baby by you?"
CC's words made Pearl sit back. For a moment he looked at CC openly, in a kind of genuine wonder.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he said then. "You know the rules, either you order or I ask you to go."
"I will order. I've asked you a question."
"So you have, and an odd one; what of it?"
There was a pause, and then Pearl said, in his own benevolent tone, "You know what? You are a very
unhappy man, Mr. Capwell. You think you know the strings and keep everything under control, but in
reality you haven't the slightest idea what the people around you are like."
It was one of few times the 'great CC Capwell' felt at a loss. There was something about Pearl, or about his
manner maybe, that made CC wonder if he was right, instead of flying into a passion and showing the
insolent youth his place.
After all, Pearl always seemed to know what everyone in Santa Barbara was worth.
"Why don't you tell me," CC muttered.
"I've told you. You don't want to hear."
*
On his way to Julia's, CC was turning the talk over and over in his mind. A singular person, this Pearl
Bradford. CC could see why his children thought highly of this eccentric individual.
But what about Miss Wainwright? He couldn't picture her yet. A good friend for Mr Bradford, a good friend
for Mr Mason Capwell... Was it natural to get pregnant by your good friends these days? When CC was
young friends were friends and lovers were lovers.
Julia was not too surprised when she opened her door and saw the tall lean figure of Mr CC Capwell: Pearl
had called, warning her CC might come to ask some unpleasant questions.
"Ms Wainwright?"
"Good morning," she said without a smile, stepped back and made a broad gesture with her right hand,
inviting him in.
Not for the first time, meeting CC, Julia noticed how domineering he was; you couldn't help feeling at once
who the boss was here. Against her will, for a moment she, too, fell under this spell, and had to make a
conscious effort to shake it off. 'Poor Mason,' she told herself, 'to grow in the shadow of such a man, and to
strive to be loved!'
Julia's pregnancy started showing, and CC looked at her belly openly. This helped her. She walked past
him.
"What brings you here, Mr Capwell?"
"I want to ask you some questions, Ms Wainwright, if you don't mind."
It never sounded like a polite formula with CC. "Yes?"
"What do you want from my son?" His lower jaw went forward, his lips set in a haughty mask of contempt
and displeasure. 'Poor Mason,' Julia thought again.
She was not quite ready for this talk as she never wanted any hostility, least of all - between her and the
Capwells. And she was not quite sure how she should be talking to CC now.
"Nothing that he does not volunteer," she said after a pause, trying to sound dignified but not too hostile, in
her own turn.
"You're pregnant, I hear."
"I am."
"And you're saying it's my son's baby."
"It is. Now, if you have any questions concerning this, you'll have to keep them to yourself. Or ask your
son."
CC glared at her; well, this was easier, this left her no choice. "What do you want from my son?" he
repeated with more force.
"Why don't you--"
The doorbell rang. "Excuse me." Julia opened the door.
"Ms Wainwright?"
"Yes?"
"We've something to deliver you..."
Men in florist's uniform started bringing in flowers. There were so many kinds in so many bunches, all
different forms and styles, from exquisite bouquets to very simple ones. Julia counted ten. The men were
placing them on her desk, on the floor, anyplace they could find.
"What is it?" Julia said, amazed.
"Mr Capwell's present."
She closed the door slowly, and then met CC's questioning look; she herself did not know what to think.
"Starting a florist's business, Ms Wainwright?" CC said sarcastically.
"No thank you, I'm quite happy to be an attorney," she replied automatically.
Her eyes fell on a replica of her yesterday's bouquet, and she saw a little envelope. "Let me see..."
The card read,
"Dear Julia,
I'm ashamed to admit I do not remember what your favorite vase looked like. So, in case you don't find one
like that among these specimens, at least you will have something to break the next time I make you upset.
I am sorry.
Mason."
She smiled.
"P.S. I'm very busy now; there's something happening, but you don't need to know. I promise I'll get back to
you as soon as I can, to resume from where we left. I do not want any misunderstanding between us;
please wait and don't start hating me."
Julia put the card back. "So it's about the vases rather," she said to herself. Now she could see the vases
and pots were all different, too, intended to suit the style of the bunches in them. She shook her head: only
Mason would do this.
"So, Ms Wainwright--"
The phone rang. Julia gave a laugh - for some reason, she felt much more relaxed now. "Excuse me."
"Mr Capwell? No, I'm afraid he's not here - oh wait a moment. Which Mr Capwell do you mean?"
She handed CC the receiver. "CC Capwell," he said, just like his son several hours before. "What?
Coming."
He turned to Julia. "Ms Wainwright, you will excuse me."
She shrugged her shoulders. To excuse him was one thing, to forgive for this attempt to interfere, quite
another.
First, CC decided to talk to Pearl.
He came to Johnny's Place, the cafe where Pearl worked as a waiter, soon after it opened. There was
hardly a customer other than himself, and it suited CC.
He occupied a table in the corner, and, natural enough, Pearl the waiter approached him. His dark hair was
dishevelled; and there was his braid, his apron, his kitchen towel, his eternal earring - phew.
"Morning, Mr Capwell."
"Good morning Pearl. Or shall I say, Michael? Or Mr Bradford, rather?
Pearl's amicable smile did not fade. "Pearl's the name," he informed CC. "I like it."
"Ok." CC leant back. "Would you sit down with me for a minute - Pearl?"
"Don't think I should. Ready to order?"
"Come on, there're no customers here yet."
Reluctantly, Pearl sat down.
"Strange," CC remarked. "You dated my niece, then got friends with my own daughter, and all the time I
had no idea you were a Bradford."
"Maybe it's not important," Pearl supposed.
He did not like to be reminded of Courtney; as to Kelly, the wound still had not healed. He was trying hard
to let bygones be bygones. He'd just started paying advances to an Eleanor Norris, and he was really
trying to and forget about the Capwell girls*; they just were not for him.
"Well, it's your life," CC agreed. "Pearl, you're a sensible young man, and you know everybody out here - I
get the impression you're actually friends with everybody. What can you say of Julia Wainwright?"
This, Pearl liked even less. When someone like CC suddenly started on compliments...
"She's my friend all right," he replied. "A very good lawyer who never goes against her moral principles.
And a very good friend, too. You can ask Cruz, or Eden, or Ma-"
"Maybe I will but now I'm asking y o u."
"Ok, then I've answered. Anything else? A cup of coffee?" Pearl started getting up.
"Why did she want a baby by you?"
CC's words made Pearl sit back. For a moment he looked at CC openly, in a kind of genuine wonder.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he said then. "You know the rules, either you order or I ask you to go."
"I will order. I've asked you a question."
"So you have, and an odd one; what of it?"
There was a pause, and then Pearl said, in his own benevolent tone, "You know what? You are a very
unhappy man, Mr. Capwell. You think you know the strings and keep everything under control, but in
reality you haven't the slightest idea what the people around you are like."
It was one of few times the 'great CC Capwell' felt at a loss. There was something about Pearl, or about his
manner maybe, that made CC wonder if he was right, instead of flying into a passion and showing the
insolent youth his place.
After all, Pearl always seemed to know what everyone in Santa Barbara was worth.
"Why don't you tell me," CC muttered.
"I've told you. You don't want to hear."
*
On his way to Julia's, CC was turning the talk over and over in his mind. A singular person, this Pearl
Bradford. CC could see why his children thought highly of this eccentric individual.
But what about Miss Wainwright? He couldn't picture her yet. A good friend for Mr Bradford, a good friend
for Mr Mason Capwell... Was it natural to get pregnant by your good friends these days? When CC was
young friends were friends and lovers were lovers.
Julia was not too surprised when she opened her door and saw the tall lean figure of Mr CC Capwell: Pearl
had called, warning her CC might come to ask some unpleasant questions.
"Ms Wainwright?"
"Good morning," she said without a smile, stepped back and made a broad gesture with her right hand,
inviting him in.
Not for the first time, meeting CC, Julia noticed how domineering he was; you couldn't help feeling at once
who the boss was here. Against her will, for a moment she, too, fell under this spell, and had to make a
conscious effort to shake it off. 'Poor Mason,' she told herself, 'to grow in the shadow of such a man, and to
strive to be loved!'
Julia's pregnancy started showing, and CC looked at her belly openly. This helped her. She walked past
him.
"What brings you here, Mr Capwell?"
"I want to ask you some questions, Ms Wainwright, if you don't mind."
It never sounded like a polite formula with CC. "Yes?"
"What do you want from my son?" His lower jaw went forward, his lips set in a haughty mask of contempt
and displeasure. 'Poor Mason,' Julia thought again.
She was not quite ready for this talk as she never wanted any hostility, least of all - between her and the
Capwells. And she was not quite sure how she should be talking to CC now.
"Nothing that he does not volunteer," she said after a pause, trying to sound dignified but not too hostile, in
her own turn.
"You're pregnant, I hear."
"I am."
"And you're saying it's my son's baby."
"It is. Now, if you have any questions concerning this, you'll have to keep them to yourself. Or ask your
son."
CC glared at her; well, this was easier, this left her no choice. "What do you want from my son?" he
repeated with more force.
"Why don't you--"
The doorbell rang. "Excuse me." Julia opened the door.
"Ms Wainwright?"
"Yes?"
"We've something to deliver you..."
Men in florist's uniform started bringing in flowers. There were so many kinds in so many bunches, all
different forms and styles, from exquisite bouquets to very simple ones. Julia counted ten. The men were
placing them on her desk, on the floor, anyplace they could find.
"What is it?" Julia said, amazed.
"Mr Capwell's present."
She closed the door slowly, and then met CC's questioning look; she herself did not know what to think.
"Starting a florist's business, Ms Wainwright?" CC said sarcastically.
"No thank you, I'm quite happy to be an attorney," she replied automatically.
Her eyes fell on a replica of her yesterday's bouquet, and she saw a little envelope. "Let me see..."
The card read,
"Dear Julia,
I'm ashamed to admit I do not remember what your favorite vase looked like. So, in case you don't find one
like that among these specimens, at least you will have something to break the next time I make you upset.
I am sorry.
Mason."
She smiled.
"P.S. I'm very busy now; there's something happening, but you don't need to know. I promise I'll get back to
you as soon as I can, to resume from where we left. I do not want any misunderstanding between us;
please wait and don't start hating me."
Julia put the card back. "So it's about the vases rather," she said to herself. Now she could see the vases
and pots were all different, too, intended to suit the style of the bunches in them. She shook her head: only
Mason would do this.
"So, Ms Wainwright--"
The phone rang. Julia gave a laugh - for some reason, she felt much more relaxed now. "Excuse me."
"Mr Capwell? No, I'm afraid he's not here - oh wait a moment. Which Mr Capwell do you mean?"
She handed CC the receiver. "CC Capwell," he said, just like his son several hours before. "What?
Coming."
He turned to Julia. "Ms Wainwright, you will excuse me."
She shrugged her shoulders. To excuse him was one thing, to forgive for this attempt to interfere, quite
another.