Of course, Sophia sees the truth of this, that Sharon would have as much or more to lose than Sophia by calling attention to Greg’s difficulties. She apologizes. “I’m not thinking clearly.” Her eyes collide with Carolyn’s that are filled with fresh curiosity and apprehension and she thinks: Wonderful. Now there is something else she will have to explain.
Sharon is dismissive. “Think no more of it, Sophia. It must be such a shock. Jasper and I want to help if we can. He’s working now on a way to get you into the Terrell Unit for a visit.”
“Oh, no,” Sophia says. “I don’t— I’m not sure I—”
“But we thought, that is Trent said you were working with the Capshaw family. He mentioned you were attempting to negotiate a visit in the company of the Capshaw children, that there’s been some difficulty.”
How had Trent Hunter come to know that? From Cort? Grace? But Sophia can’t imagine them speaking to him. “The children are reluctant, yes,” she says aloud, “but I’m not at liberty to—”
“You know, I had no idea that your late husband was acquainted with Mrs. Capshaw’s father. I was surprised to hear that.”
Sophia’s stomach lifts and falls. “They shared an interest in pre-Columbian history. Trent wasn’t suggesting there was more?”
“Oh, I didn’t speak to him directly, so I don’t know. All I can say for certain is that Jasper and I are here for you, whatever you need to help you through this.”
“Thank you, but I—”
“And, Sophia? One other thing, you know our government would very much like to know the whereabouts of the 2037 codex, if possible. It would be supremely advantageous in our relationship with our South American neighbors if we could recover it and return it to them.”
“But surely you aren’t suggesting that I know where it is or that Russ did?” Sophia’s heart taps quickly against her ribs. She thinks of what Thomas told her in confidence. Technically he’s not her patient, but neither is this situation the same as the one involving Jody Doaks and little Benny Chu. No one’s life is jeopardized by her silence in regard to the codex.
Sophia closes her eyes wishing it were like the night she and Sharon sat together at the hospital, that they could again be just mothers talking. But Sharon is the wife of a U.S. senator and must necessarily put politics ahead of everything else and Sophia’s obligation is to the Capshaw family, not the United State’s government. She won’t be used as some sort of pawn in the hunt for an antiquity regardless of its historic value or the state of relations between countries. Who is to say the United States would return the codex to South America in any case? Cort had once mentioned Jarrett’s theory: that contrary to what was reported, the police had found it when they searched Jarrett’s car and had sold it themselves on the black market. It was possible, wasn’t it? Sometimes nothing was more astonishing than the truth.
“Sophia, are you still there?”
“As I said before, I’m not at liberty to comment, not without violating the doctor-patient privilege. You understand.”
“Of course, but Sophia, as a mother, and I realize I didn’t actually lose my son, but still, well, if you change your mind about visiting your son, Jasper can arrange it.”
Sophia manages to eke out her thanks. When she stows her cell phone, tears are trembling on her lashes.
“Mom? What did she say?”
Seeing that they are safely berthed in the parking lot of the bakery, Sophia allows herself to be taken into Carolyn’s embrace. And even as she weeps, she thinks what an odd feeling it is to be comforted by one’s own child. It is as strange in its way as having the man on death row referred to as her son.
She blows her nose and says she’s concerned that Trent Hunter has contacted the Capshaw’s in regard to Russ’s connection to Louis Tilley.
“Do you think Dad was involved with the smuggling?”
“No. I would have heard something from the museum by now if there was any question, especially given all the current publicity.”
“Then I don’t understand why you’re worried.”
“I should have told Grace your dad knew Louis. She had the right to know and to discontinue therapy if she chose.” Sophia bites her lip. “But it’s more than that. We really talked, you know? In more than a professional capacity.”
“You’re saying you were friends?”
“Beginning to be, I think.” Sophia shreds the tissue. “Although I might be reading more into it.”
“You could call her.” Carolyn goes abruptly still. She sucks in her lips.
“What’s wrong? Is it your head?”
“No, Mom, it just dawned on me, we’re related, you, me, Grace, Cort and the kids. I’m an aunt. Grace is your daughter-in-law.”
But Sophia can’t think of Grace in those terms.
“It’s so weird,” Carolyn says. “Isn’t it?”
Without volition, an image of Thomas rises in Sophia’s mind along with a wave of affection. Imagine it, he’s her grandson. She wonders what he thinks of it, that his mother’s shrink is his grandmother. She wonders what Brian and Megan are like. She thinks of the single thing in the world that means the most to Grace right now: that her children should visit their father. If Sophia could talk to Thomas, she might be able to change his mind. They have a good rapport, she thinks, or they have had. She has to at least try. For Grace, who has every right to be angry, to feel that Sophia has betrayed her. She finds Carolyn’s glance. “You’re right. I do need to talk to the Capshaws. But first you’re having something to eat. No arguments,” Sophia adds before Carolyn can voice the objection riding in her eyes.
Inside the small restaurant, that mingles rich and wonderful aromas of fresh bread, coffee and cocoa, they are shown to a table for two by the window. For a minute or two Sophia worries that someone will recognize her, but the waitress gives no indication of it when she takes their order: Carolyn’s for onion soup with extra croutons and Sophia’s for quiche.
And over lunch, when Carolyn asks, Sophia describes the night she spent with Sharon Slade at the hospital and how perturbed at her Russ had been for her indiscretion. She presses one side of her cold, damp tea glass against her temple and says her guilt at having caused Dylan’s death has haunted her all her life. “I was thrilled when I became pregnant with you, but terrified, too, that I would harm you in some way.” Her glance falls.
I knew there would be others. Esther’s words are blazing in her mind. As if Sophia could just insert another child into the slot where Dylan had been. As if somehow a second pregnancy would obliterate every trace of her crime against him. She’d had no faith that she deserved such a gift, nor had she any confidence in her parenting skills. In everything to do with Carolyn, Sophia had deferred to Russ. For all intents and purposes, he had been both mother and father to Carolyn, while Sophia had kept her distance, her anxiety, and her secret. To please Russ, to prevent him from being tarnished by her misbehavior, her foolish—
“Mom?”
“You know, I advise patients all the time about the value, the absolute necessity of forgiveness, if they want to recover their peace of mind, but right now I am so angry at your father and grandmother.”
“Me, too, but I think you have to let yourself feel it. I think I’ve heard you say it’s only bad when you get stuck in the anger.” Carolyn smiles. “We’ll just have to watch out for each other.”
“Oh, Cecie, yes, we will.” Sophia smiles too. “Can’t you finish your sandwich?”
“I’m full. Does Sharon Slade think you know something about the codex or that Dad did?”
“She didn’t say that, exactly, but it sounded as if she has her suspicions. I have the impression that the powers that be would like nothing more than for me pay a visit to Jarrett Capshaw to see what I might worm out of him.”
“Do you think he took it, that he’s hidden it?”
Before Sophia can answer her cell phone rings. “It’s Cort,” she says.
They speak briefly.
“Does he think we should come?” Carolyn asks when Sophia ends the call.
“Yes.” Sophia stows her phone. “They’ve told the children.”
“And Grace? Does she think we should?”
“Cort said she asked him to call.”
o0o
When Sophia and Carolyn arrive, Grace opens the door. “We’re having lunch. In the great room,” she adds. “Sandwiches, if you’re hungry.”
Sophia thanks her and says they’ve had lunch.
Grace’s eyes are quiet, her nod seems resigned. Carolyn and Sophia exchange a glance and Sophia sees the reflection of own apprehension mirrored in Carolyn’s expression. They follow Grace down a palatial, marble-tiled entry hall that is vacant of furnishings with the exception of an imposing, three-tiered Venetian chandelier that hangs from a domed ceiling. Their footsteps echo like ghosts.
“You can see we’re a little bare,” Grace says. “We don’t have meals in the kitchen or dining room anymore. All that furniture has been sold too.”
The great room, long and sleekly-proportioned, is only sparsely furnished with a low-slung armless sofa, one chair and an over-sized ottoman. One wall, sheathed entirely in glass, overlooks a multi-level patio and a sparkling pool. A padded piano bench sits alone near the fireplace looking forlorn. Cort had mentioned that Grace had sold the baby grand piano that had belonged to her mother. It must have anchored that end of the room that is now yawning space.
“These are my younger children, Brian and Megan.” Grace gestures toward the boy and girl who are on the floor playing a game.
Chutes and Ladders. Sophia wonders how she knows. “I’m happy to meet you,” she says into their upturned faces.
“Happy to meet you,” Megan repeats and then giggles into her hand, eyes dancing along with her pink-ribboned pigtails.
She looks like Thomas, Sophia thinks. She has his engaging smile, the same dark hair and sturdy build. But Brian favors his mother. He’s slender and fair-haired and his features, like Grace’s, are delicately drawn. When he nods at Sophia, there is no smile, no glimmer of welcome in his eyes. Instead what Sophia sees is caution, the wary question: What awful thing will happen next? He’s understandably anxious and Sophia’s heart reaches for him. There is such a burden riding on those narrow shoulders.
She hears a door slam and Thomas appears. “Hey, Doc,” he says, “Carolyn, what’s up? Or maybe I should call you Aunt Carolyn now.”
She grins. “Better make that Queen Aunt Carolyn, I think.”
“Hah, yeah. In your dreams, Auntie C.”
Grace gestures toward the sofa. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
Cort comes into the room bearing a tray filled with sandwiches, hollering, “Chow’s on,” and, “Better hurry, I think there’s a hungry bear following me.” He sets the tray on the ottoman and letting out a huge growl, swings Megan over his head and around in a circle to her utter delight.
Grace has mentioned her worry to Sophia, that Megan calls Cort Daddy frequently enough now that they have stopped arguing with her about it. He sets Megan, laughing, on her feet, tugging her pigtails. There is such love in their eyes for each other, Sophia thinks. How could you argue?
Sophia refuses the offer of something to drink, but Carolyn accepts a glass of orange juice from Grace and says she’s feeling fine when Grace asks.
Brian and Cort each help themselves to a sandwich half and sit near each other on the floor.
“Are you my grandma?” Megan leans against the sofa as near to Sophia's knees as she can be without touching them.
Sophia blinks at her. There’s something very like Carolyn in the shape of Megan's head, the narrow curve of her chin. Sophia cups Megan's cheek with her hand. No one seems to notice or to hear her when Sophia whispers, “Yes. Yes I am.” And she is loose and light with the wonder of it.
Grace says, “Megan, honey, come and eat your sandwich. I made peanut butter and jelly for you.”
She sidles away and an ill-shaped quiet settles into the room.
Thomas is sitting on the hearth wolfing down his sandwich as if it’s been a month since his last meal. Without looking up from his plate, he addresses Sophia. “Did you hear what happened with the cops?”
“Just that you were released.”
Brian says, “If he goes to jail, I get his room.”
“I'm not going to jail, moron, so shut up.”
“Shut up,” Megan repeats with an impish grin. She returns to the sofa and offers her sandwich to Carolyn who pretends to take a bite and chew blissfully. Grace watches, a bit of a smile playing across her mouth.
Cort says, “There’s been talk about probation and community service for both boys.”
“Luke’s parents aren’t pressing charges?” Sophia asks.
“Not since I threw myself on their mercy,” Thomas says, and Sophia realizes he took her advice and apologized.
“It’s my first offense, anyway.” Thomas wipes his mouth.
“It had best be your last.” Cort drills him with a stare.
“As it is you’ll be lucky if I let you see outdoor daylight again,” Grace says. “Other than to work,” she adds with a glance at Sophia.
She smiles and thinks of the elephant in the living room that waits for someone to mention its presence.
“So—” Grace’s syllable dangles.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia begins.
“For what? Abandoning your son or is there something else?”
“Grace.” Cort’s voice is gentle but chiding.
Nonplussed, Sophia says, “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand?” Grace’s eyes are wide with challenge, offense.
“I thought you would say you were angry that I didn’t tell you my husband knew your father.”
“That is the least of it, Sophia.”
“Grace,” Cort speaks more forcefully. “You agreed we’d keep this civil.”
“But she’s behaving as if she bears no responsibility. She’s Jarrett’s mother and she abandoned him. She lived her cushy life while her own son nearly starved. You both nearly starved, Cort.”
Sophia covers her face and Carolyn moves next to her dropping an arm across her shoulders.
“Geez, Mom, lighten up.” Thomas turns to Sophia. “I think it’s pretty cool myself. This family can use its own shrink.” He laughs, but no one else does.
Brian is slumped over his sandwich.
“Mommy?” Megan is bewildered.
Carolyn says, “Megan, why don’t you and Brian show me your rooms?”
Sophia shoots her a grateful glance.
When Thomas says he’s staying, no one argues.
Cort says, “Grace isn’t herself.”
“Of course not.” Sophia brushes something unseen from her lap. “This is such a shock to me, too. I had no idea, no warning. I don’t know what to say.” She hears herself babbling and taking a breath, she appeals to Grace. “Truly, I didn’t know. I believed my son was dead. If I had known he wasn’t, I would have—” What? What would she have done?
“His life was so hard.” Grace’s eyes are sheathed in tears.
“Yes.”
“They said the man you and Jarrett lived with abused you?”
“It’s true.”
“Did he hurt Jarrett too?”
“Not—not physically.” Sophia drops her glance.
Thomas says, “Well, I think it’s pretty incredible, Doc. Your life was like totally screwed up, but you turned it around. Makes me think maybe there’s hope after all. Maybe I won’t end up in a cell like Jarrett.”
Grace’s irritable sounding sigh shapes Thomas’s name.
Sophia meets his gaze. Despite the flippant tone, he’s not joking, not entirely. But she’s been aware that he feels at risk, that he’s hunting for sense, a reason to have faith in his future. She knows this from her own experience, that is now public knowledge and according to some, the Slades, Phil, Thomas, helpful. Imagine, the very
scandal Russ and Esther had sought to suppress has become an example, a source of inspiration. She tells Thomas, “There were times when I thought I wouldn’t make it.”
“But you did.” His eyes search hers.
“You are more, all of us are capable of more than we think. Never doubt that.”
Grace says, “I still wonder how this can be true. There was another woman who claimed she was his mother.”
“Some crackpot,” Cort interrupts Grace.
“Jarrett may think she’s a crackpot.” Grace’s gesture indicates Sophia.
“I don’t intend to visit, if that’s a concern,” Sophia says. “I understand Trent Hunter spoke to Senator Slade regarding the possibility, but I hope you’ll take my word that I had nothing to do with that.”
Carolyn reappears with Brian and Megan, who is holding a Barbie doll by her hair. Megan goes with Carolyn to the sofa, but Brian settles on the floor near his uncle. He looks ill, Sophia thinks; his eyes are reddened wounds in his face that is as pale as milk.
“I think you should see him,” Grace says and Sophia looks wide-eyed at her. “Jarrett is your son. He deserves an explanation from you.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think—” Sophia begins and Cort says, “Jarrett told us he didn’t want us there again.”
But Grace isn’t listening. “All of us should go. Usually only two visitors at a time are allowed, but Senator Slade has said it can be arranged as a favor because of the circumstances.”
“He contacted you?” Sophia is incredulous. But hadn’t she suspected the situation would be used in this way? “You do understand, don’t you? Why they’re making an exception? That it’s a ploy by the government to get information about the codex?”
Thomas stands up with his plate as if to make his exit.
“Sit down,” Grace orders.
“I’m not going. There’s no way you can make me.” Thomas sets his plate on the mantle.
“You sure were fired up to go the other night,” Cort says.
The Volunteer Page 26
