When I Found You (A Box Set)

by Webb, Peggy

  Maybe.

  Of course, the unknown factor was Elizabeth. What she would say, what she would do? He couldn’t predict her reaction.

  The only thing he could predict was her motive. A mother would do anything to save her child.

  o0o

  The parlor, as Savannah Rose called the room they were in, reminded Elizabeth of the lobby at the Peabody, lots of crystal and marble, Oriental rugs so thick you sank up to the ankles and found yourself in danger of getting mired up forever, which wasn’t very far from the truth.

  They’d been sitting there for three hours waiting for one of the Belliveaus to return home, and in all that time Savannah Rose had not even offered them a single sip of water.

  “So much for Southern hospitality,” Elizabeth muttered after Savannah Rose had shown them in, then hurried out as if she ants in her pants.

  “Like I always said, money can’t buy manners,” Papa said.

  At first she and Papa had talked in whispers, as if there might be spies hidden behind the heavy velvet draperies and microphones planted in the polished wood tables. Then they got bold. And thirsty. And angry.

  “You’d think people who lived like this would be so grateful for all their blessin’s they’d be a little bit generous hearted,” Papa said.

  “Taylor wasn’t.”

  “You’re right. He was a rotten apple, selfish to the core.”

  It was the first time Elizabeth had ever heard Papa speak ill of the dead, but then it was also the first time the dead had reached out from the grave to haunt them. If Taylor had only told about his son from the very beginning, all this wouldn’t be happening. Nicky would be sitting in the middle of the thick carpet playing with his fire truck while his grandparents sat not two feet away and bragged on him.

  Or else, they’d have dismissed both her and Nicky right away, and that would have been the end of it.

  But no, he had to go and keep his secret that was going to be the destruction of them all.

  “How are you holding out, Papa?”

  “I’m madder than an old wet hen. How much would it cost that woman to offer us a drink of water? If something doesn’t happen soon I’m goin’ to march back there in that kitchen and pour myself a drink of something cold in the biggest glass I can find.”

  Elizabeth was ashamed of herself for sitting there like a mouse and watching her Papa go thirsty.

  “You sit tight, Papa. I’ll get you something.”

  About the time she got up from her chair, the front door slammed and she heard Anna Lisa Belliveau’s voice.

  “My stars! Savannah Rose, there’s a car parked in front of our house!”

  She was the kind of woman who spoke in italics and exclamation points. The emphasis she gave to certain words precisely conveyed her feelings. Elizabeth’s car, she clearly considered junk from the devil’s own junkyard.

  “What’s it doing there?”

  “You got company, Miss Anna Lisa. They’re waitin’ in the parlor.”

  “You let those people in the house?”

  “It was too hot to sit on the verandah. Ain’t fit for dogs out there, much less somebody who says she’s the mother of Taylor’s boy.”

  “Merciful God in heaven.”

  Elizabeth clenched so hard even her hair felt tight. Smoothing her skirt, she stood tall and proud while she faced the door. Papa came to stand beside her.

  When Anna Lisa saw them she looked as if she’d been smacked in the face with a rotten watermelon. She turned so white Elizabeth thought she was going to faint and fall over. She did wobble a bit, then at the last minute she grabbed the heavy carved door and hung on.

  “Why are you here?” she whispered.

  “There’s no accounting for bad manners,” Papa told Elizabeth, then he stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Mrs. Belliveau, I’m Thomas Jennings and this is my granddaughter, Elizabeth.”

  Anna Lisa ignored Papa’s outstretched hand, and that’s when Elizabeth wanted to slap her. For a moment he stood there frozen in his posture of politeness, then he came back to stand by Elizabeth.

  “I know who you are. I have nothing to say to you.”

  Papa puffed up like a bantam rooster, and Elizabeth put a hand on his arm.

  “I’ll handle this, Papa.”

  “There’s nothing to handle, young woman. Savannah Rose! Come see these people out!”

  It was the third time Elizabeth had been treated like cotton patch trash by a Belliveau. And it was her last.

  “You needn’t bother, Savannah Rose.” She was proud of how she could keep her voice soft and her manner pleasant, as if she’d dropped by for a cup of afternoon tea. Her dignity was a sharp contrast to Anna Lisa’s hysterics. She hoped the almighty Belliveau matriarch took note.”I’ve come here to discuss the future of my son and your grandson, Mrs. Belliveau, and if you have no more love in your heart than to throw me out the door like a backstreet strumpet, then I promise you one thing. I’ll make dead-level certain you never see Nicky.”

  Anna Lisa’s lips trembled and all her hauteur drained away. Dismissing Savannah Rose with a wave of her hand, she closed the door then groped toward a chair like a very old woman.

  “Ralph’s not home,” she quavered. “I don’t think we should be talking to each other before the hearing.”

  “I’m hoping a hearing won’t be necessary, Mrs. Belliveau. I’m hoping that you will see you don’t have to take Nicky from me in order to have him in your life.”

  “He’s our grandson!”

  “He’s my son.”

  “You call him Jennings! He’s a Belliveau!”

  “Taylor didn’t want him. He refused to marry me and give his son a name. He refused even to acknowledge him.”

  “He’s living in squalor.”

  “We’re doing the best we can, with no help from Taylor.”

  “My son is dead. How dare you say those things about him?”

  “Because they are true. Taylor didn’t want Nicky, and now you’re trying to take him away from me. Why? Why didn’t you come to me, face to face, and say that you wanted to acknowledge your grandson? I’m a good mother. You never even gave me a chance.”

  “He’s Taylor’s child.”

  “He’s my child, too, and by snatching him from me ...” Elizabeth had to stop and compose herself. Just thinking about the way they’d taken her son brought tears. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done to Nicky? How would you feel if somebody had taken Taylor from you when he was four years old? How do you think Taylor would have felt?”

  “Stop!” Anna Lisa covered her eyes with one hand and waved the other at Elizabeth. “I can’t take this anymore.”

  Elizabeth found compassion in her heart for the woman who had only recently lost her only child, too. She knelt and put her hand on Anna Lisa’s head.

  “Please,” Elizabeth pleaded. “Let’s work this out together. For Nicky’s sake. Because we both love him.”

  The door burst open and Ralph Belliveau stood on the threshold, red-faced and scowling.

  “Anna Lisa,” he roared. “Don’t say another word.” He pointed his finger at Elizabeth. “You. Get out.”

  “Nobody talks to my granddaughter that way.”

  When Papa got his feathers ruffled he stretched his neck till his goiter looked like it was going to pop out. He strutted forward like a peacock, and Elizabeth actually thought he was going to hit the man who was at least twice his size.

  For the second time that day she put a restraining hand on his arm. Then she stood in front of him and faced her adversary.

  “I’m leaving,” she said quietly, “but not before I’ve had my say.”

  Ralph’s face turned the color of a beet. “Young woman, you’re pushing your luck.”

  “I’m not afraid of you. Men who strike women don’t raise sons like Taylor. He might have been a snob, but he always had manners.”

  Ralph lost some of his bluster. “We can’t talk to you without our lawyer.”<
br />
  “I’m not asking you to talk. I’m asking you to listen. We don’t have to be enemies. If you love my son, if you love Taylor’s son, please call off the witch hunt. Let’s just sit down together and work things out.”

  She couldn’t tell whether she’d made any impact or not. Taylor’s daddy had his son’s height and coloring, but none of his easy charm. He might as well have been a mountain, for all the good Elizabeth’s pleadings did.

  “Please ... can’t we be friends for the sake of Nicky?”

  A sob rose up from Anna Lisa that conjured up fresh graves with the rich black Delta earth piled high and golden-haired boys smashed to bits and hearts torn asunder.

  Ralph walked over to his wife’s chair and stood looking down at her as if she were somebody he’d once known and perhaps loved, somebody now lost to him.

  “I think you should leave now,” he said.

  Elizabeth and Papa left without saying goodbye, and set out to their joyless house on Vine Street. The road back home seemed a thousand miles long.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Nicky was scared in the big house he lived in. But he tried to act brave. Papa said always be brave.

  He didn’t like the lady that brought him here. She scared him. She had a Halloween mouth. She was mean and didn’t smile. She made his Mommy cry.

  He had lots of toys in his room, but he didn’t play with them. They didn’t belong to him. Only his fire truck and Bear.

  The lady who lived here said call me Carol, but he didn’t. She tried to get him to eat green peas. He hid them under his bread when she wasn’t looking. Mommy knew he didn’t like peas.

  Carol patted him on the head and called him pumpkin. He wondered if he was turning orange from all the carrots he’d had. She smelled nice, but she didn’t read good stories. She didn’t sing either, or listen to his prayers.

  Maybe she didn’t like God. He’d even heard her blast fuming.

  Nicky didn’t know what that was, but it must be bad ‘cause Papa got mad at Uncle Fred when he did it. Nicky didn’t want to blast fume. He wanted to be a good boy. And he wanted his Mommy.

  He tucked Bear under the covers. “Shh. Be real quiet,” he said, then he ran to the door to see if anybody was looking.

  The hall was empty and scary looking. The big ole clock standing at the end looked like a monster. Nicky hurried back to bed and grabbed Bear. That made him feel better. Then he got on his knees to talk to God. Papa said God was his friend and was never too busy to listen.

  “God, it’s me,” he whispered. “Nicky. An’ Bear, too. We want to go home.”

  Nicky shut his eyes tight and listened, but God didn’t say anything. Papa said you have to listen with your heart. Nicky tried real hard, but he still didn’t hear anything.

  “God, me and Bear’s gonna be real good. We pwomise. If we be real good, can we see Mommy and Papa?”

  He cocked his head to listen, then climbed into bed, pulled the covers over his head and whispered in Bear’s ear, “He said yes.”

  o0o

  Elizabeth awoke with her heart pounding and the certain knowledge that Nicky needed her. She went to the window and looked out into a night as black as the inside of a hole. The darkness had completely swallowed up the stars and the moon.

  It was a night befitting her mood. Papa was exhausted from their futile journey to the Delta. Although it had only been seven o’clock when they got home, he’d gone straight to bed. She could hear his snores through the thin walls.

  She should be so lucky. Sleep eluded her, driven away by the certain knowledge that her chances of getting Nicky back were slimmer with each passing day. She’d only made matters worse by talking to the Belliveaus.

  She leaned her head against the windowpane and whispered, “Be brave, my Nicky. I’ll never stop trying.”

  It was almost daylight when she finally fell into a troubled sleep. She didn’t even hear the phone ringing until Papa came to her door.

  “Elizabeth, it’s for you.”

  She groaned. “Tell whoever it is that I’m sick. Tell them I’m dead. Tell them anything. I don’t care. I can’t talk to anybody.” She pulled the covers over her head.

  “I think you’ll want to take this call, Elizabeth. It’s from David Lassiter.”

  She ran all the way to the kitchen, dragging the sheet behind.

  “David? You’re home. Oh, thank God, you’re home!”

  o0o

  It was funny how everything could look the same, even when you were about to take a step that would alter the course of your life. What David was about to do would forever change the way he lived. He couldn’t say he was sorry about that, for the way he had lived hadn’t really been living at all: it had merely been an existence, a biding of time. He didn’t know what he had been waiting for. Perhaps, this moment. Maybe all the years he’d spent in self-imposed exile from life had been leading up to the moment when Elizabeth Jennings would walk through his door tonight.

  He’d never been as nervous in his life. The room was exactly the way it had been on her previous visits, shades drawn, no lights on except for the lone lamp shining down on the chair where she would sit.

  David fingered his tie. It was brand new. Burgandy silk. He’d had it sent up earlier that afternoon. A new suit, too.

  He laughed at his own foolish vanity. Who in the world would notice his clothes? Certainly not Elizabeth, for in spite of what he intended to tell her, he planned to remain totally hidden from her view, as always.

  His security manager’s voice came through the intercom.

  “She’s on the way up, Mr. Lassiter,”

  He’d thought himself fully prepared, but when he saw Elizabeth standing in his doorway, all his preparations and rationalizations became lies.

  Her trials had taken a physical toll. She’d lost weight, and she was so pale her skin looked translucent. She looked as if she were made of spun glass and the least little jolt would cause her to shatter. Instead of detracting, the fragility only enhanced her beauty, giving her an ethereal quality that made her the stuff of dreams.

  “Thank you for sending the car,” she said. “I don’t think I could have driven here alone. Not with...” Her voice caught on a sob, and she took a while to compose herself. “Not with everything that has happened,” she said, finally, and so softly he had to strain to hear.

  The need to hold her, to comfort her was a beast screaming and clawing at his insides.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I would have come home sooner if only I had gotten a message.”

  “I thought...” She raked her hand through her hair, then briefly massaged her temples. “I don’t know what I thought. Desperate women seldom do.”

  “I’m here to help you, Elizabeth. I want to help you. And that’s my only motive.”

  “I believe you, David.”

  He drew a ragged breath. So far, so good. The problem was, he only half believed himself. Was there a hidden agenda behind the plan he was about to propose, or was his motive purely altruistic?

  “As soon as I found out you had called, I asked my assistant Peter Forrest to find out what was happening in your life. He told that Nicky had been taken from you, that your lawyer is a real estate specialist and that the judge who will hear your case is a personal friend of Ralph Belliveau and is also deeply indebted to him for campaign contributions.”

  He studied her as he talked. She had the look of a woman who had been knocked flat by the worst punch fate could throw and had not only risen before the final count but had come back fighting.

  “You mean the judge is against me, too, even before he hears my side of the case?”

  “So it would seem.”

  She closed her eyes for a minute, and the light from the lamp fell on two tear drops that squeezed from underneath her lids. She made a broken sound in her throat, like a deer caught suddenly in a steel trap. Then, angry, she knuckled her tears and lifted her chin.

  “They can’t have him. I won’t
let them take my child away from me.” Her anger spent, she sagged. “Not again,” she whispered.

  “I have a plan that might work. Two, in fact, but before I go into that, has anything else happened that I should know about, anything that might affect the outcome of your case?”

  “Yes. I went to see Taylor’s parents, the Belliveaus.”

  “I know of them.”

  “Do you know the story in the Bible of the dispute over the child, and how the mother agreed to give him up rather than see him torn apart?”

  “Yes.”

  His answer pleased her. He could tell by the ghost of a smile that played around her pale lips.

  “I thought that if the Belliveaus loved him they would be willing to work out a compromise.”

  “What happened?”

  “Papa went with me. Taylor’s mother came home first, and I think she might have been won over, but then Ralph Belliveau came home.”

  Elizabeth didn’t have to tell the rest of the story for David to know what happened. He could see the outcome of that fateful visit plainly written in her face.

  “He was very angry. I think I only made things worse, if that’s possible.” She stared into the darkness as if she were searching for his face. “It all seems so hopeless.”

  “Don’t give up, Elizabeth. We haven’t begun to fight.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not giving up. If I have to spend the rest of my life trying to get my child back, I will. Nicky is a brave and very fine little boy. He’s probably a little scared right now, and somewhat confused, but he’ll come out all right. It’s Papa, I’m worried about. He seems so fragile these days.”

  “I hope we can solve this problem in less than a lifetime, Elizabeth. I’m not a young as you.” The ghost of a smile flickered across her face once more, and David felt triumphant, as if he’d won a Hero of the Year Award.

  He leaned back in his chair, suddenly feeling mighty fine in his new suit and tie, but more than that, in his new feeling of connectedness.

  “Now, then... I have two proposals to make to you, Elizabeth, and I’d like for you to listen to them carefully before you make any comment, ask any questions or make a decision. Will you do that?”