“They were yelling over the phone?”
“They don’t fight like that. It’s more these pauses when neither one of them’s willing to talk, you know?”
Troy grimaced. “That’s not how it was in my house. Fights meant throwing things. A couple of my so-called uncles got physical with Mom. More than once, Mom and I ran in the middle of the night so we wouldn’t get the crap beat out of us.”
Chrissie gasped with horror.
“Hey, I survived and I’m a better man for it.”
Chrissie wondered about that. Her respect for his mother, whom she had yet to meet, wasn’t high. She couldn’t fathom any mother putting her child in that kind of situation.
“I’m afraid my parents might get a divorce,” Chrissie told him. That was one of her worst fears. It happened to other families; it could happen to hers, too.
“Hey, my mom and dad never bothered to get married. Does that shock you?”
“No.” From what she knew about his mother, very little would.
“My daddy took off before I was born. The bastard.” Troy’s hoarse laughter followed. “My daddy was a bastard and he made me a bastard.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s the truth, so get used to it.” The humor left his eyes.
“I can’t imagine growing up without my dad,” Chrissie said, wanting to wrap Troy in her embrace and give him all the love he’d missed as a child.
“Hey, don’t go soft on me. There were plenty of men around,” he said with a measure of irony in his voice. “My mother saw to that. She married twice before I was fifteen and after that she provided me with a series of interesting uncles—none of whom stuck around.”
“Troy, that’s terrible.”
“Terrible? I’m a survivor because of it. No matter how bad things got, I landed on my feet.”
“What about your mother?”
He glanced away. “She’s all right. Her life hasn’t been easy, but she’s made the best of it.”
“I’d like to meet her.”
Troy didn’t immediately respond. “Someday.”
“Why wait?” Chrissie asked.
“You’re a bit too—”
“Too what?”
“A bit too virginal.”
Chrissie elbowed him in the ribs.
“I’d like to change that,” he said suggestively. “Maybe you’ll let me before the end of the summer.”
“Maybe I will.” Chrissie giggled. Troy made her see life in a completely different way. It was about surviving, and surviving meant not taking anything too seriously, not getting in too deep.
CHAPTER 26
By late afternoon, Susannah was beside herself with worry. Chrissie had vanished without a word, without even leaving a note. The last time Susannah had seen her was while she was on the phone with Joe. She didn’t know where her daughter had gone or with whom.
Not that it was hard to figure out. Chrissie was more than likely with Troy Nance. The very least the girl could’ve done was tell her. She had a cell phone. Why didn’t she call?
After an hour of pacing, she’d had it. She decided to escape the house. With a heavy heart, she drove to Altamira to visit her mother. Vivian was with friends, Sally Mansfield and two other women. Not wanting to interrupt her mother’s visit, Susannah only stayed for a few minutes. When she returned to the house, she phoned Carolyn, hoping for a chance to get together.
“You sound upset,” her friend said barely a minute into the conversation.
“I am,” Susannah admitted. “I’ve had a horrible day.”
“Come on over and I’ll commiserate with you. My day hasn’t been that wonderful, either.”
Half an hour later, Susannah pulled into the long driveway that led to Carolyn’s home. The scene was picturesque in the early-evening light; soon, the deer would venture down into the wide-open field next door. If she wasn’t so agitated, she’d stop and appreciate the beauty of the countryside, with the surrounding hills standing guard. She envied Carolyn the tranquility of this lovely place.
The front door stood ajar, and after a courtesy knock, Susannah pushed open the screen door and let herself in.
“I poured the wine,” Carolyn announced from the kitchen. “After the day I’ve had, I need something stronger than iced tea.”
Susannah echoed that sentiment. They sat down in the family room, where the air conditioner blew cool air from the vent overhead. The afternoon had grown unpleasantly warm and it felt good to relax. Had she been in Seattle, she would’ve been preparing for a party to celebrate the holiday weekend. As it was, she’d probably join her mother at Altamira for a barbecue.
Carolyn sat at one end of the sofa and Susannah the other. After a sip of wine, Susannah gestured to her friend. “You go first.”
Carolyn gave a weak shrug. “With me, it’s a bunch of small things that added up to one disastrous day. I didn’t set my alarm, so I overslept, which I almost never do. Consequently I was late getting into the office. My entire day was off-kilter. I was rude to Jim although I didn’t mean to be and after that, everyone avoided me. I often stay late at the office, but not today. I wanted out of there the minute the whistle blew and frankly I think everyone was just as glad to be rid of me.”
Susannah could sympathize. “I hate it when my day gets off to a bad start.”
“I’ll be checking my alarm clock from now on.” Carolyn tucked her bare feet beneath her as she made herself comfortable on the couch. “All right, it’s your turn.”
“Anything else?”
Carolyn closed her eyes. “Okay, okay, I took the plunge.”
“You and Dave?”
“I didn’t tell you, but we made…sort of a date. For today.” Carolyn sighed. “I ruined everything, though. He was weeding the flower beds this afternoon and I snapped at him and when I left work, I found a note on my windshield that said perhaps we should meet another night instead. Oh, Susannah,” she moaned, “I’m so disappointed.”
Hearing that her friend had acted on her desires was encouraging news. “You actually approached him? Is that how you made your sort-of date?”
Carolyn blushed. It was so wonderful to see Carolyn this excited that Susannah had to hold back a giggle.
“Dave and I…ran into each other,” Carolyn explained. “At He’s Not Here.”
“What happened?”
“Not much… We danced one dance and talked a bit. We decided to meet here tonight and then I had to make a complete mess of things.” She picked up her wineglass. “Enough about me. It’s your turn.”
Susannah wasn’t sure what to tell her first. The most current crisis was her daughter, so she started there. “Chrissie took off…again.”
“With Troy Nance?”
“That’s my guess.”
“Have you considered talking to Sharon about him?” Carolyn asked.
Chrissie would hate it if she went to Troy’s mother, but Susannah was beyond caring. “I saw her earlier today at Safeway. She says she has Jake’s phone number and that the two of them got back together after I left for France.”
“And you believe her?”
Susannah didn’t have any choice. She nodded. “She knew about the St. Christopher medal I gave Jake. I’d forgotten about it, but she hadn’t.”
“Do you really think she’s telling the truth?” Carolyn asked.
Susannah shrugged. “I have to assume she is. Although she didn’t seem to know that Troy’s seeing Chrissie.”
“She knows,” Carolyn muttered. “Trust me, she keeps close tabs on her boy. If you want to find out where Troy and Chrissie are, she’ll be able to tell you.”
As much as Susannah hated talking to Sharon twice in the same day, she had to do it. This ridiculous situation with Troy and Chrissie had gone on long enough. “How old is Troy, anyway?”
“He must be around thirty.”
Susannah frowned. Not only was this guy completely unsuitable, he was far too old for Chrissie. Sooner or
later, she’d have to confront Chrissie about her relationship with Troy. When she did, she wanted her facts straight.
“Chrissie’s got you down?”
Susannah ran her fingers down the stem of her wineglass and lifted one shoulder. “She’s only part of the problem. Joe and I had an argument this afternoon.”
“Any particular reason?” Carolyn asked, then rushed to add, “If it’s none of my business, just say so, but if you want to talk, then I’m here to listen.”
Feeling as wretched as she did, Susannah needed to share her dilemmas. “I didn’t tell him I’d hired a private eye.”
“Oh, oh.”
Susannah sighed. “I know it’s crazy. You can imagine how Joe felt when he heard what I’d done—from Chrissie, by the way, which just infuriated me. And yet it’s my own fault for keeping it a secret. Joe was really angry with me, but he was at the office and couldn’t very well vent with his entire staff listening in.”
“He doesn’t understand why it’s so important for you to find Jake, does he?”
“I don’t completely understand it myself. I wish I could just leave everything the way it is, but, Carolyn, I can’t. It’s too late.” She bent her head, eyes closed. “Joe is my life raft, so why do I keep pushing him away? I can’t seem to help it. I’m risking everything for this, and when I consider what’s at stake, I have to admit it’s crazy. I can’t undo the past.”
“So what happens next?”
Susannah wished she knew. “I have an appointment with the P.I. on Tuesday afternoon.”
“So she didn’t tell you anything yet?”
“Not really. She mentioned putting out some feelers in Canada. I don’t have a clue what that’s all about. She said she’d tell me on Tuesday.”
“She must have some news, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked for an appointment,” Carolyn said.
“I’m hoping she does.”
“If she has found him, what will you do?”
Susannah hadn’t decided. Yes, she wanted to talk to Jake and apologize for her father’s actions. But that could be done over the phone. Seeing him again was something else entirely. Despite herself, her heart raced with excitement at the prospect.
This was wrong, so wrong. She reminded herself forcefully that she was married. Joe was her husband and he was a good man who deserved better than to have his wife hungering after some high school boyfriend.
Yet Susannah no longer felt in control of what she’d set in motion. She couldn’t stop the search for Jake now, even if she wanted to. And she didn’t….
“Susannah?” Carolyn’s voice broke into her reverie.
“What will I do?” Susannah repeated. “I’m not sure.” She took another sip of her merlot. “Chrissie, Jake, Sharon, Joe—that’s not the end of my hellish day, either.”
“You mean there’s more?”
“Yup,” Susannah said, trying to sound lighthearted without much success.
“Go on. You might as well tell me.”
“I found out something about my brother.”
Carolyn straightened and leaned toward her. “Doug? What did you learn?”
“I went out to see Patricia Carney. Her name’s Anderson now. You remember her, don’t you? She and Doug were seeing each other.”
Carolyn nodded, setting her wineglass aside. “I remember the two of them were dating, yes.”
“Right, but Patricia seemed to think there might’ve been someone else in his life.” She stared down at her wine. “In fact, the night he was killed, Patricia was going to confront him and then at the last minute he broke their date.”
“The night he was killed?”
“Yes,” Susannah said. “If he hadn’t cancelled, Patricia would’ve been with him.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened at the implication and when she spoke her voice was soft. “She might have died that night, too.”
Susannah nodded. “We talked about the twists and turns life takes. I promised I’d let her know when I find out who it might’ve been.”
“Hold on, you just lost me. Who might’ve been what? Are you talking about this other girl he was supposedly seeing?”
“Yes, but in addition to that, someone’s been putting flowers on Doug’s grave. I thought it was Patricia, but she swears it isn’t, so I assume it’s whoever else he was involved with.”
“She’s telling you the truth,” Carolyn whispered. She reached for her wineglass again and got to her feet. Walking back into the kitchen, she replenished her drink.
Susannah followed. “How would you know that?” she asked.
Carolyn stood on the other side of the counter, eyes downcast. “Because it’s me.”
“You?” Susannah asked numbly.
“Doug and I were writing to each other.”
“What?” Susannah said, stunned by this revelation. “While we were in France?”
Carolyn nodded apologetically. “Soon after you arrived in France, Doug wrote to ask me how you were doing. He knew how upset you were with your father, and he was worried. I wrote back and he answered. Pretty soon we were writing regularly.”
“And you never bothered to mention this to me?” Susannah asked, angry that the woman she’d considered her best friend had kept something so important from her. She’d told Carolyn all about her feelings for Jake; Carolyn obviously hadn’t returned the favor. Now that she thought about it, Susannah remembered how eagerly Carolyn had waited for the mail. She had, too. It was what she’d lived for those months in France.
“I’m sorry.” Carolyn shifted awkwardly. She didn’t meet Susannah’s eyes. “I never meant to keep it from you. But the first time he wrote, Doug asked me not to tell you, so I didn’t and then, well…well, one thing led to another and I just never did.”
“The two of you fell in love through the mail? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I guess I am.” Carolyn looked directly at her. “Don’t you remember how frantic I was when Doug was killed?”
Susannah shook her head. She’d been so caught up in her own pain she hadn’t noticed.
“In the last letter I got from him, Doug said he was going to tell Patricia about us. He planned to break up with her that night, I think.”
“You still put flowers on his grave?”
They walked back and sat on the sofa again. “Every few weeks I put flowers on my parents’ graves and Lily’s. I leave some at Doug’s, too. I didn’t realize you’d see them.”
“When you were writing,” Susannah asked, “did Doug—did he say Jake had gone back to Sharon?”
“No. But then, he didn’t write much about Jake.”
Susannah studied her friend. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I do know that Doug was mad at him about something—he just never said what it was.”
CHAPTER 27
Vivian had her good days and her bad ones, and today was good. Many of the bad days were before Susannah and Chrissie had come. Vivian had done her best to hide how defeated she’d felt. In fact, she hadn’t realized how badly she was coping at home until she came to live at this prison place—or hospital or whatever it was.
Not that she was complaining. The food was all right when she had an appetite, and she noticed the meals had improved since her first week there. Granted, most days she didn’t have much of an appetite, but she made an effort to eat. She was growing used to the way they did things here. It worried her some when she discovered that they locked the doors at night, but her friend George—not her husband, the other George—had told her why. The doors were locked to keep the crooks out. She could believe that. She already knew the world was full of people eager to swindle an elderly widow.
Barring the doors to thieves was fine with Vivian, but it kept someone else out, too—her George. She hadn’t known locked doors were a hindrance to the dead, but apparently they were. He hadn’t come to visit—at least not until today. When she woke from her nap, he’d been there, in her darkened room. Oh, he looked wonderful to
her. Vivian had been overcome with joy. It’d been so long since his last visit that she’d nearly given up hope.
She asked why he’d taken all those weeks to find her. He couldn’t answer, but that was all right. None of that mattered when he was with her. For a while they sat and looked at each other in silence. Tears had come to her eyes and although they didn’t speak, Vivian felt his love for her and their children.
Once she’d composed herself, she told him how upset Susannah was, although she still couldn’t recall exactly why. Poor George didn’t know what to think. He’d frowned and shaken his head, and Vivian wished she’d kept it to herself. All too soon he was gone.
Invigorated by the visit, Vivian joined Sally and a couple of other women for dinner. Earlier in the afternoon, they’d also met for tea, which was becoming a regular occurrence, and one she had to admit she enjoyed. Then she’d had her nap, followed of course by dinner. Afterward as she started back to her suite, she felt disappointed that she hadn’t seen her friend George, even though she knew he ate in his room. Vivian was proud of herself. She’d finished her entire salmon cake and small salad, but she didn’t much care for the rice dish. No flavor whatsoever.
Leaning on her cane for balance, Vivian walked past the pool room. Sure enough, her friend was there, using his crutch as a pool cue just as he had the first night she’d met him. George glanced up when he saw her.
“I wondered if you’d swing by,” he said in that gruff way of his.
“Well—here I am.”
George made a dismissive grunt. “What’s put you in such a good mood?”
“My husband visited this afternoon.”
George lowered his crutch to the floor. “Did he now?”
Vivian nodded. “He stayed for a while, too.”
The other man’s gaze narrowed. “I didn’t see him.”
That made perfect sense to Vivian. “Of course you didn’t. He only appears to me. He’s dead, you know.”
“Oh, right, I forgot. I don’t suppose he talks much, either.”
“Can’t. He’s dead.”
George rubbed the side of his face, as if testing to see whether he needed a shave or not. “Did he let you know what he wanted?”