Temporary Paragon - Emma GoldrickBeth's life was far from simpleImpulsive Beth Murphy tackled life's problems head-on. When her errant niece appearedin Boston "in terrible trouble," Beth promised tacy that the culprit would marry her.!s a temporary secretary for "ichard Macomber, #n$lish professor, writer and culprit,Beth put her plan into action. he soon learned the computer codes at Macomber%ublishin$--and how to chan$e them.But Beth hadn't counted on her own warm response to "ichard or the heartache ofplottin$ his marria$e to someone else.&hapter 'neB#() M*"%)+ barely mana$ed to sta$$er up the front steps of the old wooden three-decker in outh Boston, identical to all its nei$hbours, and dropped into a chair. (hree ofthe bi$$est boys on her ,ittle ,ea$ue baseball team clattered their spikes behind her,depositin$ the duffel ba$s full of bats and paraphernalia in odd corners. he waved themoff, and they tramped out of the house, not at all unhappy.'-ood -od, Beth, you look a mess. What the devil is an unmarried.''pinster,' Beth interrupted, in her husky voice.'I wasn't $oin$ to say that.''But I did, Mary. It's true, I admit it.in fact, I'm proud of it. !nd I do it because theycouldn't find a mana$er for the team, and the kids wouldn't have been able to playbaseball in the lea$ue if I didn't volunteer/''o there/' Mary ,ockrid$e lau$hed, rollin$ her wheelchair away from the desk. hewas a tiny, dark-haired woman, dau$hter of an old Italian family from the 0orth #nd,who had married a warmhearted 'ld +ankee, and come to outh Boston to settle. 1espitethe le$ problems that had bothered her since birth, she mana$ed well in a wheelchair,ade2uately on crutches, and from time to time essayed 'unsupported fli$ht', as she calledit. !nd she was an office mana$er par excellence.Beth tu$$ed the old baseball cap off her head. )er mass of $olden-red hair fell downto her shoulders. he shook her head a couple of times to free the tan$les. '-ot a &oke3'she asked.'0ot e4actly,' Mary chuckled. 'I've $ot a ti$er by the tail here, thou$h.' he $esturedtowards the telephone handset lyin$ on her desk. 'Mr %omp and &ircumstance himself.Wants to talk to the Mana$er. (here may be a even-*p left in the frid$e there. )ow wasthe $ame3'Beth stretched up to her slender five foot si4 and stalked the frid$e. 'I think we had amoral victory,' she $loated as she pulled a bottle of pop out of the ice. '(he last time weplayed this team they beat us twenty-five to nothin$. (his time they only won by seven toone. (hat's our.where the heck is the bottle-opener3'''n the desk, silly. Where I always keep it.''+ou're $oin$ to die of neatness, Mary. Why are you leavin$ the ti$er han$in$ on thetelephone3'')e thinks I'm runnin$ around lookin$ for the Mana$er. +ou were sayin$3''I was sayin$, $loatin$, that's the first run we've scored all year/' (he telephone mades2uawkin$ noises. '+ou really want me to talk to him3''0ot particularly,' Mary lau$hed. 'But if you want to, I don't mind. It's a 2uarter to five,and I've had enou$h for this week. (hank -od it's 5riday/''!men.' Beth walked slowly over to the desk and picked up the telephone. '-ood day,this is Miss Murphy speakin$.''(his is the mana$er of "entasec3 6ust a minute for Mr Macomber, please.' Beth shookher head, lau$hin$. (he old one-upmanship business. I won't put my boss on the line untilyours is on. It was a $ame played in every business, but Beth was not at all impressed.')ello.' ! male $rowl, low-pitched, indi$nant. 'h lord, here's one who not only $ot upon the wron$ side of the bed, but stayed there all day/ she thou$ht. 'It's about time,' hecontinued. 'I've been waitin$ for almost ei$ht minutes.'!nother one of those, Beth $roaned to herself. he was 7ust not in the mood forplayin$ the $ame. 'Well, we can't all 7ump at command,' she said. '(here are other thin$sthat re2uire doin$.' !nd I hope that's cold enou$h for you, Mr Macomber.'0ot when you're dealin$ with me,' the voice returned. 'When I call, I $et instantaction.''1o you really3' she si$hed, and then, in pseudo-sympathy, '+ou must have a terriblekidney problem in your or$anisation.'(here was a second of silence, followed by a $ruff lau$h. ''8, so you put me in myplace. I'll 7ust have to chalk that up on my board. 0ow, where was I3''"entasec' she prompted, tryin$ to hide the $i$$le.'"entasec. +es. I've been told you keep a staff of 2ualified e4ecutive secretaries.''(hat's correct. 5or temporary work, of course.''(ell me about it.' It was a command, not an invitation. Beth shru$$ed at Mary, andmotioned her to $o ahead closin$ up the office.'"entasec is a co-operative association of si4ty women who have retired from thebusiness scene to raise families,' she e4plained. '5orty of our members are hi$hly skilled,and we provide updatin$ briefin$s re$ularly.''+ou've $ot a se4y voice, lady. What do the other twenty do3'tartled, Beth half lowered the receiver, covered the mouthpiece, and called to Mary,'Who is this Macomber3'')e's the &hief 'peratin$ 'fficer of Macomber %ublishers,' she was told in one ear.'Well.3' the telephone barked at her, Beth shook her head to clear her mind. (he$ame must have been a $reater strain than she had thou$ht.'I.' he fumbled for a moment, then pulled her well known reserve around her like asuit of armour. '(he remainin$ members act as baby-sitters while our front-line peopleare at work,' she said as coldly as she could.he must have been successful. 'Brrrrr,' he chuckled. 'Mi$hty cold in Boston thesedays, isn't it3' Beth was not about to answer. 'Well, I need an e4ecutive secretary,' headded. 'omebody who understands word processin$ and computer techni2ues. omeoneold enou$h not to $i$$le every time I say somethin$. omeone who's not husband-huntin$.''I think all of our personnel 2ualify,' she said stiffly. 'We deal only in the best.'''h, and somebody who knows how to handle people, bi$ and little ones,' he added.'What are you doin$ toni$ht3'(hrown off-track a$ain, Beth sputtered, then settled down. 'Isn't that rather personal,Mr Macomber3'''f course,' he returned. 'We're talkin$ about my own e4ecutive secretary. It's bound tobe a personal relationship.''I'm sure it must be,' she said fri$idly, havin$ made up her mind. '!s for myself, Iintend to spend the weekend with M!&. he looked fondly into the ne4t room, crammedwith racks that made up their Multiple !ccess &omputer.',ucky $uy,' he said. )is voice had shifted from harshness into a smooth baritone, analmost come-hither sound. It was time to turn him off.'*nfortunately, Mr Macomber,' she said politely, 'a firm like ours must be mostselective of our clients. We couldn't possibly send our ladies out in an environment wherea concubine is wanted. We deal only with secretaries.''Well, I'll be damned.''%robably,' she si$hed, and dropped the handset on to its cradle.'What was that all about3' Mary wheeled herself back from the computer room, asmile teasin$ her olive-toned Italian skin.'I'm darned if I know,' Beth said reflectively. he thou$ht it over for a minute. 'I don'tknow 7ust what the man really wanted.but I turned the 7ob down, anyway. Macomber.%ublishin$3 %robably some old fo$ey in his third childhood, I'll bet. )e wants atemporary secretary who's willin$ to play footsy with him. What the devil are youlau$hin$ at now3''(ake a look at this.' Mary held out a pa$e from the Globe. '(he -overnor's ball. eethe man ne4t to him3'(he -overnor of Massachusetts was short and slim. 0e4t to him was a lean, hawk-eyed si4-footer. (he black and white picture failed to do him 7ustice. 'Brown hair, browneyes.curly eyelashes,' Mary $i$$led. '"amrod Macomber, they called him in his colle$edays. )e's the playboy of the year in Boston, Beth. Where've you been lately3 )ispublishin$ company handles the hottest detective stories in the country.and a mess ofthose "take off all your clothes" books.historical romances.'')ysterical romances, you mean3 My, he certainly mi$ht be able to catch someone.especially in a small office. &urly eyelashes3 Isn't that a shame3 Well, I turned him down,anyway. )e probably needs someone from the &ombat 9one, not "entasec.''0ot to worry,' Mary told her, handin$ over a computer sheet. 'Most of our $irls arecommitted for ne4t week, anyway. I never cease thankin$ -od for this computer. (hene4t time your brother comes in from &alifornia, I'm $oin$ to kiss him.homely as he is.'he wheeled her chair over to the terminal, and punched a few more keys. (he bi$machine in the ne4t room $rumbled, flashed a few li$hts, and settled down to its weekendrun of mundane thin$s. %ayrolls, $overnment-re2uired statistics, postin$s of earnin$s,that sort of thin$.'5red really did a $ood 7ob of pro$rammin$,' Beth a$reed. '!nd spent his four-weekvacation rustlin$ up the parts cheaply.that was a sacrifice, too.''It used to be a $irl's best friend was a diamond,' Mary chortled. '0ow it's a brotherwho's a computer-ma$ician.''We could have scored twice,' muttered Beth, her mind already back to the baseball$ame. 'Would you believe it."obbie Bettencourt hasn't had a hit all season. (heywalked him. )e was so proud he tried to steal second base, their catcher threw the ballout into the outfield, and "obbie walked home/''ounds like an avera$e ,ittle ,ea$ue day to me,' Mary lau$hed. ',ucky you turnedthe man down. M!& says we don't have an e4ecutive secretary free on Monday.'''h, wow,' Beth si$hed. 'i4ty members in our cooperative, and we haven't a one freefor Monday3'')ey, well, thirty-five of them are on assi$nment, fifteen are baby-sittin$ for theworkin$ mothers, and the others have various ailments and aches. We $row old, Beth.''1on't say that,' Beth lau$hed. 'I don't mind bein$ a spinster, but I don't $row old. Whydon't you scoot home, love3''I will, Beth. pendin$ the weekend alone a$ain3''I suppose. With M!&, as I told the $entleman on the telephone. (here are a numberof thin$s to clear up.''+ou know what you need, Beth3''+eah. ! $ood ri$ht-handed pitcher. urely there's some kid in the area who can throwthe ball all the way from the pitcher's mound to home-plate3''(hat isn't what I was thinkin$. What you need is a man/''+eah, one who's four foot three and can throw a $ood hi$h inside pitch,' Bethchuckled. '-o on, now. +our husband will be frothin$ at the bit.''0o, he won't. I cook better than that.'(he two of them walked each other to the back door, where ramps had displaced stairslon$ a$o. Beth stood at the door as Mary navi$ated the slope and headed ne4t door to herown house.Beth stopped for a minute on the back porch. (he house, desi$ned e4actly like all tenof the nei$hbours, was a hu$e three-storey affair, ori$inally cold-water tenements built atthe turn of the century. But they were built for lar$e families, and were built well. #achfloor contained ei$ht rooms, with a double sittin$-room separated by slidin$ doors.%lumbin$ had been improved, and in most of the houses on the street, each tenement hadbeen broken up into flats. But not Beth's pride. (he house had been left to her by herfather. he lived in the e4pansive second-floor apartment, devoted the first floor to herbusiness, and rented out the third. )ousin$ was ti$ht in Boston. (he three-decker thatsold for thirty thousand dollars three years a$o was now 2uoted at one hundred andtwenty thousand, and there were few houses offered for sale. Meanwhile, the rentalincome from the third floor paid the ta4es, and there was no mort$a$e. he leaned backa$ainst one of the porch pillars and took a deep breath.(he wind was in the ri$ht direction for deep breathin$, a flock of sparrows wereconductin$ fli$ht manoeuvres over her tiny back yard, and Beth Murphy's world seemedalto$ether satisfactory. he had spent all of her life here in the district, within walkin$distance of (ele$raph )ill, and was at peace with herself.he started to make the rounds of the office area, checkin$ windows, lockin$ doors,and settin$ the alarm system. It had been a lon$ time a$o since one could leave unlockeddoors in outhie. &limbin$ the steep back-stairs brou$ht protests from her knees. hesmiled, revealin$ the two dimples, one on either side of her heart-shaped face, the bane ofher e4istence. Without them, she looked her a$e. (he dimples cut her back almost tosweet si4teen, a time she hardly cared to remember.0ot because I was somebody at sweet si4teen, she told herself as she laboured up thestairs, but because I was a red-headed freckle-faced nobody, who knew nothin$. heunlocked the door at the second landin$ and went in, lau$hin$. Mrs )ennessey, whoobli$ed with cleanin$ three days a week, was $ivin$ the kitchen a last swipe with herdusty cloth.'omethin$ funny3' (he stooped little old lady must have been seventy if she was aday, but had no intention of stoppin$ work 'until the day they pat me in the face with ashovel', she would say from time to time.'6ust reminiscin$,' shru$$ed Beth. '+ou're not done yet3 It's pretty late.''!in't nothin$ to $o home to,' her housekeeper returned. '(ell me what's funny and I'llmake you a cup of coffee.''It wasn't much, but you're on. I could use some coffee.' !nd she could use someone tolisten to, Beth thou$ht, as she pulled an old wooden chair out from the kitchen table andsat down. (he coffee was hot, and percolated, evidence of premeditation. Weekends werelonely times for the elderly. )avin$ outlived all their friends and families, they turned toanyone who would listen. Beth took a $rateful sip.'Well, I was thinkin$, comin$ up the stairs, about bein$ si4teen and red-headed andfreckled, and stupid.and it struck me that only the freckled part has chan$ed. )ow aboutthat3''0ot red-headed, either,' the old lady told her. 'In the summer, when you're out in thesun, it's more $old than red. +ou remind me of your $randmother. 0ow, there was a one.''weet and demure3' Beth knew the answer, but was encoura$in$ the tale.'! real hell-raiser,' Mrs )ennessy chuckled. 'Me and your $randma, we cut many aswin$ in our youn$er days.'Beth settled back to listen with one ear. (he story improved on each tellin$, this taleof the Irish in outh Boston before the -reat War, but a $ood listener knew where to$runt, or comment, or $i$$le, without even listenin$. !nd it $ave time to assess the week.Business had been $ood. Baseball had been terrible. !nd to end up with someinstitutional $rouch like "amrod Macomber.wow, there was a name/(he housekeeper had come to the end of her weekly tale, and was ready to leave. Bethsaid all the ri$ht words, paid her for the week, and watched her out of the door with herusual warnin$s. '!nd watch those stairs. I'll see you Monday/''(ime to unwind,' Beth told herself when the door was safely closed. he added 7ust adollop of Irish Mist to her coffee, and took it alon$ with her to the bathroom. (he tub wasold: si4 feet of white enamel set up on four clawed feet, with a shower-head added yearslater. &asually, she dropped off her clothes a piece at a time, leavin$ a scattered trailbetween the livin$-room and the bathroom, and turned on the hot-water tap. (he heaterwas in the cellar, re2uirin$ a lon$ run of cold before the warm water arrived. he waiteduntil the temperature met her needs, turned on the cold water to balance, and pulled theshower curtain around the tub.It was a lon$ step upward to $et in. he mana$ed, revelled in the water, then latheredup with her favourite perfumed soap. (here had been more brick-dust at the park than sheneeded, and half of it had come home in her hair, so she shampooed vi$orously, and then7ust stood there, lettin$ the comfortin$ warmth run down off her shoulders, across hersmall, pert breasts, and down her stomach. (he soap was barely out of her hair when sheheard the noise in the kitchen.'tupid,' she chided herself. '+ou didn't lock the back door/',eavin$ the shower water runnin$, she fumbled her way out of the tub, slippin$ on theloose bathmat. )er ancient robe hun$ on the back of the door. he shru$$ed herself intoit, still wet, with soap on her cheeks and ears. (here was no weapon in si$ht e4cept forthe rubber-tipped plun$er. he hefted it. It would have to do. he eased the bathroomdoor open and peeped out. (here was nobody in the livin$-room, but the noises persistedfrom the kitchen. )oldin$ her plun$er up with two hands, she crept across the room,leavin$ a trail of wet footprints on the old carpet.omebody was in the kitchen, cryin$. &all the police, her subconscious dictated. "unlike hell, her careful mind admonished. I$norin$ them both, she eased herself around thecorner of the door, and into the kitchen. omebody was sittin$ at the table, head down onher arms. !ll that was visible was the bri$ht blonde head of hair.'tacy3' she asked, disbelievin$ly. (he youn$ head snapped up, tears still coursin$.'!unt Beth/' (he $irl scraped back her chair and came runnin$ around the table intoher aunt's arms. ''h -od, !unt Beth, I had to come/'!nd that's par for the course, Beth told herself as she welcomed the tiny creature toher side. !nastasia Murphy, ei$hteen years old, five foot two, platinum blonde, fullfi$ure, empty head. (he dau$hter of her brilliant brother 5red, who, at this very moment,ou$ht to be happily ensconced in her dormitory at Marymont &olle$e, in upper 0ew +orktate.')ey, you're always welcome,' she whispered softly into the silky crown of hair. (hat'swhat aunts are for.'''h -od, !unt Beth. I'm in terrible trouble/'Beth s2uee;ed the $irl a little ti$hter, her chin firmin$ up. '(here's a man involved3'she asked softly.''h.yes. )ow did you know3'Beth smiled $ently and patted the $irl's head. In a typical Irish family, when a $irl $otherself into 'terrible trouble', it meant only one thin$. But first, somehow, she had to stemthe hysteria.'#verythin$ will be all ri$ht,' she soothed. '+ou'll stay a while. I'll let your father know.'''h.no, not that. 1on't let him know/''But he'll worry about you, tacy. We'll tell him that there's a break in the colle$eschedule, and you.decided to take pity on your poor old aunt. )ow about that for asolution3'(he blonde head at her breast nodded up and down, and it did seem that the tears wereslowin$. With the skill of lon$ practice, Beth manoeuvred the $irl back into a chair. )erthree brothers had already provided her with seven nieces.none of whom thou$ht it atall unusual to run to their !unt Beth. '(here now, I was about to make supper, and.''It was terrible. ,ord, it's $ood to be here/ #verythin$ is so.so ordinary.')ow about that for your obituary3 Beth fumed to herself as she headed back to thebathroom to dry off and dress. Everything about Aunt Beth is so ordinary! I have threebrilliant brothers, each in their own field, but the daughter of the house is ordinary/he was standin$ in the middle of the bathroom, without a stitch to her name, runnin$the hot air into her hair, and cau$ht a $limpse of herself in the mirror. ,uckily, themirror's cracked, she told herself, as she assessed. (all enou$h.for a $irl. 0ice hair,when it dries.if only it didn't curl so impetuously at its ends. -reen eyes that sparkled,stormed, smiled, at need. 2uare shoulders, with two freckles left from childhood, ri$htin the hollow. Breasts that stood out firmly but not boastfully, tipped bron;e, sometimesachin$. ! flat stomach that narrowed precipitously before it swelled out into ample hips.,e$s, perhaps too lon$ for the rest of her, $racefully shaped. 0ot at all bad for anordinary old ha$, she assured herself. !nd then, not $ivin$ herself a chance to chan$e hermind, she rushed out throu$h the livin$-room into her bedroom, and dressed.)ow did you welcome a niece in trouble3 By casual dress, for one thin$. It was stillcool in the Maytime evenin$ of Boston, and the radiator heat was inefficient. heshru$$ed herself into a cashmere pullover, stepped into the tiny briefs that were alwaysso at odds with her personality, and snatched up a wrap-around plaid skirt. )er hair fellinto place with a simple brushin$, and she was ready to act as the family cryin$-towel.tacy had found herself a ci$arette, still sittin$ at the table. ')ey, you're in my housenow.' (he $irl $uiltily stubbed out the butt in her empty coffee-cup.'I for$ot,' tacy apolo$ised. 'I was feelin$.nervous, and I thou$ht a ci$arette would.''%ut you ten steps closer to lun$ cancer,' her aunt chided. ')ave you been travellin$lon$3''!.friend.brou$ht me all the way by car,' the $irl said, and ducked her head out ofBeth's line of vision. '!bout ei$ht hours. It's a nice car.''I'll bet. &olle$e boy3'''h, heavens, no/ !n adult. I don't $o out with colle$e boys. (hey're so.so youn$.'''f course,' Beth si$hed. I don't $o out with colle$e boys either, she thou$ht. 'fcourse, I did walk by )arvard yard one time, and look throu$h the $ates/'What are you thinkin$ about, Beth3'he smiled back at her niece as she opened the refri$erator door and assessed herstock of food. ''h, nothin$ important. 6ust what a nice time youth was. Will steak do foryour supper3'''h yes, fine. I'm hun$ry. (he dinin$-room at colle$e is.not very $ood. !nd 1adsends me such a small allowance.''+es, of course. (here's a head of lettuce there. Want to make us a tossed salad3 I mustsay that dress looks $ood on you. I thou$ht most colle$e kids.er.students, wore 7eans.''+es, usually. +ou like it3' (he $irl twirled around. )er crimson skirt flared andfollowed her. 'I chan$ed at 0orth tation. I.well.''%uttin$ your best foot forward for your aunt3' Beth lau$hed.(he $irl blushed and confessed, '+es. 1ad always coached us before we came to yourhouse. "-et dressed like a woman.your aunt doesn't like unise4 nieces".'(hey worked side by side, the effort easin$ the tension. When everythin$ wasprepared, and the steaks were $rillin$, Beth hu$$ed the $irl a$ain. 'Why don't you $et a2uick shower or bath3' she su$$ested. '!nd remember to turn on the hot water first, oryou're liable to $et scalded.'Beth waited outside the bathroom door until she heard the shower runnin$, and thendashed throu$h to the telephone and dialled her brother's office in &alifornia. (he timedifference came out 7ust ri$ht. It was almost si4 o'clock in Boston, and coffee-break timein %alo !lto.'It's Beth,' she hissed into the receiver. 'I have your errant dau$hter here.''Well, that's a damn relief,' said 5red. '(he 1ean called her mother two hours a$o, withsome cra;y mi4ed-up messa$e. I mi$ht have known she'd $o to you. What's the trouble3''I don't know, 5red. 1on't worry about her. I'll find out, and do somethin$.''Well, I'll worry, anyway,' he chuckled. 'I know you mean well, Beth, but you bein$the baby of the family, I worry about you, too.''Well, you needn't,' she told him huffily. 'I've mana$ed to $et alon$ without all youmen for some time now/''(hat's what worries me,' her brother returned. 'een any $ood ball-$ames lately3''0o. Why did you have to ask me that3 (he "ed o4 are in last place in the !merican,ea$ue. !nd so is my ,ittle ,ea$ue team. +ou couldn't find me a pitcher, I don'tsuppose3''"i$ht after you strai$hten my dau$hter out and $et her back to colle$e.''Well.er.that mi$ht take some doin$, 5red. I think we have big problems.''!nd there's nobody in the family better at settlin$ big problems than you,' he lau$hed.'I worry about the little ones, but with bi$ ones you're some sort of marvel. )ow's thecomputer comin$ alon$3''1oin$ fine, 5red. I have to run. tacy's almost finished with the shower, and.''!nd she told you not to call her old man, I suppose3''I suppose,' Beth si$hed. '5unny, how you understand her so well, and yet shecontinually $ets in trouble.''(hat's why we named her !nastasia #li;abeth,' 5red chuckled, and hun$ up.'Is that somebody on the telephone for me3' tacy came hurryin$ out of the bathroom,lookin$ like some sort of an$el, wearin$ Beth's best robe.'0o. 6ust a nei$hbour. !re you e4pectin$ a call3''Well, I.I thou$ht he mi$ht call.'')e3 1oes someone else know that you're in Boston3''I.I suppose they must. I hope the steak isn't burnin$.'!nd so do I, Beth told herself wryly. +oun$ she mi$ht be, but my lovely little niecesurely knows how to chan$e the sub7ect/upper was a little strained. tacy was so obviously tryin$ to avoid a whole ran$e ofsub7ects that conversation was like walkin$ throu$h a minefield. (hey talked about theweather in Boston, the weather in Buffalo, the sprin$ fashion styles, and familyanecdotes. But no matter how often Beth pressed the $irl about her life at the colle$e, sheclammed up and went on to somethin$ else.It was almost ten o'clock that ni$ht, over coffee, that she mana$ed to $et an indicationof the si;e of the problem. '+ou mi$ht as well stop dod$in$ the issue, tacy,' she said.'We've 7ust $ot to take the bull by the horns. !re there any other clich