Love Me Tonight. Gwynne Forster

man who fathered that child?”

      “Well, you know, that’s not something anybody can swear to, but I remember she was in love with the man, an architect, who designed and built the Americana Hotel. They can tell you his name. It wasn’t a common name. My daughter-in-law might remember it. I’ll recognize it if I hear it. A lot of our young girls were after him, because he was one good-looking man, tall and… If I’d a been single, I’d a gone after him, too.” She laughed. “A bit older than Beverly, but that didn’t seem to bother her.”

      He wanted to know about the man’s character, in case he was on the right track. “Did he date all those girls?”

      “Not to my knowledge. It looked like he was as crazy about Beverly as she was about him. Nobody ever could say why they didn’t get married. Come on in here while I get our lunch together. I hope you like home-cooked food.”

      “I certainly do, and I haven’t had any since my mom got sick.” He took a bottle of perfume out of his coat pocket and gave it to her. “I didn’t know what to bring you, but I figured every woman likes this.”

      Her eyes rounded to twice their size. “This woman certainly does. This is quite a gift. Thank you so much. I don’t know when I last had any perfume.” She handed him the bottle. “Would you please open it? I’ll just put on a little dab of it. I always used to put it on my handkerchief, but nowadays it’s so dear.” She put some on her index finger, sniffed and a wide smile covered her face. “This is just the kind of scent I love.”

      She put the food on the kitchen table, turned on the air conditioner and handed him a face towel. “You can wash up right around there.”

      Cissy said grace holding his hand and then passed him a platter that contained barbecued baby back ribs, broiled lamb chops and grilled pork loin. “Help yourself. There’s plenty more.”

      His gaze took in a pan of baked corn bread, string beans, rice, sliced tomatoes and pickled beets. “I know I’m a big guy, Aunt Cissy, but this is enough food right here for six people.”

      “Oh, go on. Who cooks for you?”

      “I’m thinking about getting a cook, but right now, I do. I also eat out a lot.”

      “And you take home a lot of pizzas and beer. Right?”

      “Bad, huh?”

      “Yes, sirree. Do you have a nice girl?”

      “I met someone recently, and I think she may be the one. I’m not sure.”

      “Of course you’re not sure if you haven’t known her longer than that. Anyway, finding the right person is part luck. What does she do?”

      He told her.

      “That’s a good fit for you. You willing to live wherever she goes?”

      He liked that question. Aunt Cissy was a modern woman, her age notwithstanding. “If it gets to that point, we’ll have to strike a deal. I haven’t looked that far ahead.”

      “Well, you better. It’s those surprises up ahead that throw a monkey wrench into the sweetest relationships. You be careful.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I generally stay alert to what’s going on in my life.”

      After lunch, they sat in the cool living room, and he shared with her his fondest memories of his mother.

      “She raised a fine man. No matter what happens and what you find out, always remember that.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I’d better move on, Aunt Cissy. I want to get to the Americana Hotel. Is it far?”

      “Nothing’s far here, son. Drive to the corner, turn left and drive till you see the hotel. It’s about ten blocks.”

      She walked to the door with him, and he gazed down at her with mixed feelings. There were so many things he wanted to ask her that he knew she hadn’t told him, and he wanted to stay longer. But the answer he sought could be ten blocks away. It was only a slim chance, but he wanted to know for certain.

      “Thanks for that wonderful lunch and for receiving me so kindly. I won’t forget it. If you need anything ever, you know how to reach me.”

      “Thank you, son, and thanks for my lovely perfume.”

      Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the Americana Hotel, presented his card to the receptionist and asked to speak with the manager. A short, formally dressed man appeared at once. “Is there a problem?” the manager asked him.

      “No, there isn’t a problem, sir,” he said and shook hands with the manager. “I’m Judson Philips, and I wonder if you can tell me who designed and built this lovely hotel.”

      The manager beamed. “It is a fine one, isn’t it? Just a minute. Have a seat.”

      Judson wasn’t in the habit of perspiring so profusely, but as he waited for the manager to return, the sweat soaked his shirt in spite of the comfortable air-conditioning. The manager returned after what seemed like hours, though only twelve minutes had elapsed.

      “I’m delighted to tell you, Mr. Philips, that one of Maryland’s most famous architects designed and built our hotel. His name was Fentriss Sparkman, and here is the original brochure that commemorates the dedication. I hope you will come back and stay with us very soon.”

      Accepting the brochure with trembling fingers, Judson thanked the man, promised to return and headed for Baltimore. Something was missing, but he’d get to the bottom of it, no matter what. He had to go through his mother’s personal belongings. He hadn’t done it, because he hadn’t expected to find anything among her intimate things. Now, he realized that the woman he had always believed was his adoptive mother may have kept things from his father, secrets she hadn’t wanted him to know about, including the child she bore out of wedlock. And that child was most likely him.

      He walked into his house ready to renew his search through his mother’s things and stopped short as if a bomb had dropped. He’d forgotten to check Fentriss Sparkman’s name with Aunt Cissy. He sat on the nearest dining room chair and telephoned her.

      “Aunt Cissy, this is Judson.”

      “Did you go to the hotel?”

      “Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’m calling you. The man’s name is Fentriss Sparkman, and the hotel’s manager gave me a brochure that proves it. Do you recognize that name?”

      “I sure do. He’s the only person I ever heard of with a first name like that one. I hope you learn something good from all this. You let me know what happens, you hear?”

      “Yes, ma’am. You and I are linked from now on, Aunt Cissy.”

      “You come to see me. I have a nice guest room, and you’re welcome to use it whenever you want to.”

      “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

      Fentriss Sparkman. His mother had never mentioned the man to him. “I hope I don’t discover something I’d rather not know,” he said to himself and ran up the stairs to continue his search. Three hours later, tired and hungry, he looked at his watch and considered having some food delivered. He went to the phone, then suddenly remembered that he hadn’t called Heather to give her his news or started getting ready for dinner at her place.

      He dashed to the bathroom, taking off his clothes as he went, got a quick shower, shaved and dressed. He had less than an hour, and he had to drive past DeLong’s Florist to get some calla lilies. He adjusted the gray-and-yellow paisley tie and checked his image in a flawless suit and light gray shirt. With no time to go to the liquor store, he chose two bottles of wine from his wine rack, locked his door and gave thanks that he’d remembered Heather had invited him to dinner at her home.

      The florist had only yellow and white calla lilies, so he bought six of each and had them wrapped in clear cellophane paper tied with yellow and white ribbons. Fortunately, the building in which she lived