They finished their cappuccino and pumpkin pie. Liz signed the credit card receipt. The waiter took the folder away.
She took a deep breath. “Jay, I have some news.”
“Yeah, Mom?” He looked up with a smile reminiscent of when he was eight and came downstairs to find a bicycle under the Christmas tree.
“I’m going to have a baby.”
Jay gagged on his pie and coughed into a napkin. “What? I thought maybe you were going to tell me you had a boyfriend or something, but . . . Oh my God!”
“Shh! I’m five months along, and it’s a boy.” She feigned a smile to distract the other patrons, who were now staring.
“That means you got involved with someone only six months after Dad died. Who is this guy?” Jay’s voice remained scratchy despite clearing his throat. He took a swig of water, sat back, and sighed.
“He’s dead. His name was Edward, and there was an accident.” The profound sadness that weighed Liz down deepened.
“This is getting better and better.” Jay threw his napkin down and stormed out. Liz scurried to keep up with him. He glared at her as he got their coats and helped her on with hers. She saw his gaze linger on the belly concealed beneath a loose blouse.
She’d been honest with Mike and he told her straight up to face reality. The truth would put Jay over the edge.
Elisabeth chafed. Allowing everyone to believe she’d been assaulted would have been an easy way out, but a betrayal to Edward, and a mark upon the baby before he was even born.
They walked along Fifth Avenue and down Central Park South to Liz’s hotel. The Christmas lights were already lit. Red bows hung on the lampposts. Hansom carriages adorned with wreaths clattered by. The bells on the horses’ harnesses jingled. Some drivers wore top hats and tails. She wanted to hail one. Her feet were killing her.
Jay didn’t give her a chance. Liz struggled along after him in her high heels. Telling him in a public place had been the coward’s way out, but in private, she feared an even bigger scene.
Jay’s hand shook when he pushed the button on the elevator. He grabbed the electronic key from her when she had trouble getting the door to open, then tore off his coat and threw it onto the bed. “Mom, when you fired Bill Jeffers and bought that ramshackle house, I wondered if you could handle managing Dad’s estate. Is someone trying to steal money from you? Why would you even consider having a baby at your age? It’s dangerous! You’re going crazy.”
“I knew Edward before I met your father. We got reacquainted. No one is trying to steal anything, and Bill was giving me nothing but a hard time.” None of this was an outright lie. She was just leaving out the past life parts.
“Why would Dad have appointed Bill if he didn’t trust him? Wait until he hears about this!”
“Money makes people do dishonorable things, Jay. And Bill is no exception. I didn’t tell you what he did . . .” She put her hand on Jay’s arm.
“Like get a rich woman pregnant and con her out of money? This whole accident thing sounds ridiculous! That’s it! I can’t let this go on anymore.” Jay picked up his coat and slammed the door behind him.
There were too many doors closing these days. Liz followed him down to the lobby. By the time she’d clattered down the marble steps in front of the hotel he’d jumped into a cab and driven off.
“Taxi, madam?” The bellman held her elbow, which stabilized her a bit, at least physically.
Her swollen feet screamed for relief in the pointy shoes. Her back felt like someone had hit it with a bat. Her abdomen cramped.
“No, my son forgot something but I missed him. I’ll catch him tomorrow.”
“Very well.” He smiled and attended to another couple headed out for the evening.
Liz hobbled across the street to one of the horse drawn cabs and patted a red chestnut. He nuzzled her back.
He looks like Ruddy.
Her heart clenched.
“Would you like a ride, ma’am?” The driver came over and gave the horse some carrots.
“What’s his name?” Liz asked.
“Red, and I’m Joe.” He wore a simple black coat and breeches, with a cap, reminiscent of London cabbies, circa 1873.
“I’d like a ride, Joe, if I can sit next to you in the driver’s seat. And if when we’re done, you’ll take Red home, give him a nice curry, and a special snack. I’ll pay for any lost work. You both look so tired, and it’s Thanksgiving.”
The fellow grinned like he’d won the lottery. “All right, ma’am. I can’t refuse an offer like that.”
Central Park after dark could just as well have been Boston Common, or Streatham Commons, in Surrey. Old-fashioned streetlights illuminated the deserted path, a metaphor for her endless journey through shadows with only a few glimmers of light here and there to offer guidance. Who am I, and why is this happening to me?
Whenever the past intruded on the present, recollecting something happy soothed the restless ghost. The jingling harnesses and clop-clop of hooves calmed her. The horsy smell of the blanket over their laps was as comforting as the odor of fresh manure Red left behind. The baby wiggled inside her—Edward’s final gift.
She recalled his parting entreaty, “Honour my memory by living your life.” Liz wrapped her arms around her belly, and her heart around happier memories.
Mae being shocked speechless wasn’t what Liz had hoped for. Her eyes got wider and wider as Liz told the story in reverse, first announcing the pregnancy, then tracing back to Edward’s visit. She didn’t mention that Elisabeth’s ghost had been resurrected inside her. One preposterous claim at a time was enough.
“Liz, I believe in God and miracles, but I can’t comprehend this. I also know yer a fine woman. And if Michael Keeny is the father of this child, I can’t imagine him not takin’ responsibility.” Mae bustled around, cleaning and straightening up even though there was no mess.
Liz sat on the steps and wound a garland through the balusters. “Mae, I stopped seeing Mike because I didn’t want to put him in a bad position. I know you saw us together that morning, but he isn’t the father. I almost drowned trying to follow Edward. Mike found me on the beach and brought me home.”
Mae nodded a little too fast. “It doesn’t matter who the father is. Babies are a blessing. But Michael keeps callin’. Why don’t ya talk to him?”
“I have to attend that court hearing next week and can’t allow him to get dragged into this mess Jay created. All the assets of the estate have been frozen until the decision is made. I’m afraid if I lose the right to manage my affairs, they could force me to sell the house. No, I don’t need anybody else to worry about.”
Elisabeth squirmed, reliving yet another event in the cascade of misery that had caused her to make a deadly mistake.
“What shall I tell Kevin?” Mae moved poinsettias into place around the entryway. "Whatever you want, Mae. But please don’t speak about this to anyone else.”
“Of course not.” Mae went back into the kitchen and left Liz to her decorating for the party.
I should have lied. No one believes me anyway, and if this gets out Jay and Jeffers would have me committed.
Liz logged on to Amazon.com. There were no more copies of the Kensington book available, anywhere. Good, I got the last one. And I’m not telling anyone what’s in there. If Mike, Mae, and Kevin read the details of how Elisabeth ruined their lives, it might shake some of their memories loose and wake up their ghosts. What they don’t know can’t hurt them.
Mike took two oranges off the pile. Several cascaded around his feet and rolled in the aisles. He laughed, retrieved, and put them back.
“Hi, Michael. Nice to see ya! Playin’ soccer?”
Damn, she’d tracked him down again. “No, just trying to find a few good pieces of fruit, Mae. How are things?�
�
“Just fine. The house is a bit lonely now that ya haven’t been comin’ by. Kevin’s been workin’ on the stable, and I’m helpin’ Liz get ready for the big publicity party.”
“Yes, I got the invitation.” It was sitting on his kitchen table, upsetting him every time he saw it.
“And ya haven’t responded now, have ya?” Mae tapped him on the arm like a nun to a naughty schoolboy.
“I’ve called her a few times, but Liz doesn’t want to see me anymore. She only sent it to be polite. How is she doing?”
“As well as can be expected. Her son is not takin’ it well. She’s down in Boston now, at some sort of hearing he demanded about his dad’s estate. She needs ya somethin’ awful. But, who am I to say what should happen?” Mae raised both hands and her eyes to heaven like a supplicant.
He ignored the flagrant matchmaking. “Is she feeling okay? Physically, I mean.”
“She’s very quiet and lonesome. Me and Kevin are keepin’ a close eye on her.”
He was worried about Liz, too. “Tell her I said hello, and that I’m thinking about her. I’ll be there on Christmas Eve.”
“I’ll be sure to give her the message. Let me get goin’ with the shoppin’ now.” She took off at a trot down the produce aisle toward dairy.
“Bye, Mae.” She got what she wanted out of me, but God she means well. I’m glad Liz has the two of them. She sure as hell doesn’t need me. Nobody does.
Mike paid for his groceries and loaded them into the car. After he got home and unpacked, he dialed his daughter’s number, and got ready to leave a message.
“Allison, I’m surprised to find you home.”
“It’s snowing hard up here, Dad. Already eight inches and it’s only December twelfth.”
“Well they don’t call New Hampshire the White Mountains only for the granite rocks, do they?”
“No, Dad. What’s up? How are things going with your girlfriend?”
His heart sank deeper into his chest. “We broke up.”
“Oh no, what happened? The last time we talked it sounded like the two of you were getting along so well.”
“Remember I told you her husband just died? She didn’t know how to tell me she was pregnant.” That’s the best I can do without getting into dangerous territory.
“Dad . . .”
“Our relationship never got that far, Allison. It’s her husband’s child.”
“That’s so sad. First, her husband dies with a baby on the way. Then, you break up.”
“It was her decision. She didn’t want anyone to make the same assumption you did.”
“What’s the difference? You’re fifty-five years old. And she’s what? Forty-five, you said? Forget what anyone else thinks. You know I don’t believe in sacrificing happiness for social conventions.”
“I know, Allison. Her son was none too happy about our relationship, I hear.”
“His dad just died. I’m sure that his attitude has nothing to do with you.”
Mike steered the conversation away from the land mines. He hadn’t been a model father when she and Dana had come out as a couple. “Allison, I’m going to a party at Liz’s house on Christmas Eve.”
“I have to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day so don’t worry about me.”
“No, I want to bring Liz a gift but don’t know what to get. It can’t be anything too personal or romantic.”
“How about a basket of soaps and lotions? And maybe some aromatherapy?”
“What is aromatherapy, and where would I get something like that?”
Allison laughed. “Oh, Dad, scents affect your emotions. You pick one that matches your mood or meets a need.”
“Smell therapy? I think that would be right up Liz’s tree. She’s into that mystical stuff.”
“I’ll go shopping and have it sent. What colors does she like? Is she a fancy person?”
“Liz wears simple clothes. Her favorite colors are green and gold. Her house is Victorian, all fancy-schmancy.”
“Good. I’ll shop online and have it delivered. The weather is too bad to go driving around.”
“Thanks, Allison. And buy something for yourself and Dana. Send me the bill. I usually give you money anyway. I was thinking I might come up for New Year’s. If that’s okay. Maybe we can go skiing?”
“I’d like that, Dad. Dana doesn’t ski, but we could have a day to ourselves. She won’t mind.”
“I miss you, Allison. The holidays are very lonely here in this big house. I did put up a Christmas tree though.” Mike struggled to keep his voice from breaking. The last time he’d put it up was the Christmas before Mary died. The last time Allison had come home. The last time they had been a family.
“Dad, I hope everything works out with your girlfriend.”
Just hearing Allison say girlfriend was like being stabbed. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate your help with the gift. Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye, Dad.”
The receiver clicked, and Mike stared at it for a while. He didn’t want to hope for anything to happen with Liz. But at least things were getting better between him and Allison.
Chapter 33
December 2009
Boston, Massachusetts
Liz followed her bouncing, blonde attorney into the courthouse. She’d tried to pick an outfit to mask the pregnancy and hoped it was successful. Facing Bill Jeffers with a bulging belly would only throw gasoline on the fire.
“Wait here, Liz.” Marianne Hartley spoke with the court clerk who nodded and pointed toward a door on the left.
Marianne waved, and Liz followed her inside.
“Judge Georges has no patience for bullshit. Just relax,” Marianne whispered.
That was impossible. Jay already sat next to Bill around a gleaming mahogany conference table in the judge’s chambers. It was only a week after the anniversary of Gerry’s death, and Jay resembled him so much Liz had to look twice to believe it was her son. He was no longer her little boy. Losing a parent makes you grow up too fast. I learned from experience, and I wish he’d never had to go through this.
Bill rose, and Jay followed his lead. It appeared Jeffers had insinuated himself as a father figure. Gerry would have been furious.
“Ms. Hartley, Mrs. Levine, ah, excuse me, Ms. Mulcahey.” A crooked smirk spread over Bill’s face.
Liz didn’t smack him because getting arrested wouldn’t help the situation. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jeffers, Jay.” She sat down next to Marianne on the opposite side of the table.
A court officer strode into the room. “All rise. The Honorable Christine Georges now presiding.”
Liz barely had time to settle into the chair and then had to jump up again.
The tall, black woman swathed in judicial robes swept in and took her place at the head of the table. “Please be seated.”
A court stenographer began to tap at the keys. The two lawyers took out legal pads and files. Liz looked at Jay and tried not to cry.
The court officer spoke to the room without looking at anyone. “All raise their right hands. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
After the chorus of “I do’s” Liz sat on her hands to stop them from shaking. She took deep breaths and wished she’d had a chance to go to the bathroom.
The judge droned on in legalese. The stenographer typed.
“. . . in the matter of Levine versus Mulcahey-Levine . . .”
Liz shook off the distraction. The hyphenated name sounded strange, like just about everything else in her life right now.
Judge Georges had the kind of voice that could lull you into a peaceful stupor, if you hadn’t been accused of being incompetent to manage your own affairs.
&nb
sp; “You’ve all been sworn. The complaint reads that Jay Levine, son of the deceased Gerard Levine, believes his mother, the widow of the deceased, has exhibited poor judgment in managing the affairs of the estate. Mr. Levine seeks to have Ms. Elizabeth Mulcahey-Levine removed as its executor and the original custodian, William Jeffers, Esq., re-appointed to handle all further monetary transactions and matters related to the estate.
“Mr. Levine, can you tell me what leads you to believe your mother is incapable, and why you asked Mr. Jeffers to re-open the issue of your father’s estate management?”
Jay stood and looked directly at Liz while he spoke. “My mother dismissed Mr. Jeffers, who my father appointed to manage our financial affairs. She ignored his advice, bought a house, and has spent a fortune fixing it. My mother is six months pregnant and claims the father is dead. I’m concerned she’s not making clear judgments and is at risk of losing all the money my father left to the two of us.”
Marianne put her hand on Liz’s leg in a gesture of reassurance. Liz stared back at Jay, who looked down. Bill cocked his head and flashed his crooked smile again.
“Ms. Mulcahey, do you care to respond?” the judge asked.
Liz stood and stared at Bill. Focusing her attention on him renewed her resolve to remain strong and to restore her own credibility. “My husband died a year ago, after a short illness. But we did have a few months to discuss my future plans. Nothing I’ve done would have been against Gerry’s wishes.
“Mr. Jeffers made unwanted advances to me within two months of my husband’s death. I had always planned to buy property on the Cape, found a house, and negotiated tax abatements with the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. He resisted advancing the money for the purchase, so I fired him.
Breakwater Beach Page 28
