“But I wanna see Mommy.”
“I know, sweetheart, but we don’t always get what we want.”
Willow’s mouth trembled slightly. “Can’t Mommy have visits because she’s not getting’ well? Is that what it means?”
“It means the doctors want her to use all her strength to get well and not use it visiting with people. She’s still weak.”
“But getting well.” It wasn’t a question. Willow seemed almost defiantly pronouncing that Penny would recover. Then she wavered. “Mommy is getting better, isn’t she? You wouldn’t tell me a fib, would you?”
Being completely truthful versus making a little girl feel better fought a flashing battle in Diana’s mind. Then she looked at Willow’s questioning eyes in her sad, innocent face and knew she couldn’t dash the child’s hope.
“The doctors and the nurses are putting all their efforts into getting your mother well. You know she wants desperately to come home to her little girl that she loves more than she loves anyone else, and she’s a strong lady, Willow. Very strong.”
“I wish I could see her for just a minute,” Willow said droopingly. “If I told her I love her it might help.”
“She knows you love her, Willow. Believe me—she knows.” Diana smiled and put the newspaper aside. “Are you ready to go for a walk and take pictures with me? Uncle Simon and Clarice won’t be home from church and lunch for at least a couple of hours.”
“Yeah, I guess. Can the cats come?”
“Well, cats don’t usually take walks with people like dogs do. Besides, long walks are too hard for Romeo.”
“You could buy a wagon and pull him,” Willow suggested.
“That’s a very smart idea, but we have Christabel to consider. She’d run off. She’d hide in the woods and we’d never find her.”
“I hid in the woods and I got found.”
Diana’s senses sharpened but she tried to sound casual. “Yes, you did. A man found you. How was he able to find you when no one else could?”
“ ’Cause I hid from everyone else.”
“But you didn’t hide from him. Why?”
Willow’s gaze drifted around the room for a few seconds. “I was tired of hidin’ and I was scared of snakes.”
“I see. Did you know the man who found you?”
“Well . . . no.”
“That didn’t sound like the exact truth.”
Willow looked at her, and Diana saw a quick flash of apprehension in her eyes. She faltered then said, “At first I thought I knew him but I didn’t. I got mixed up.”
“Who did you think he was at first?”
“Well . . . I thought . . .” Willow took off her crown and began inspecting the rhinestones sparkling in the sunlight. Not looking up, she said, “I thought he was a friend of Mommy’s but he wasn’t.”
Diana knew the child was telling either a half-truth or a complete lie. But Willow was not a child who lied even when she’d done something wrong and wanted to escape punishment. Diana knew if Willow was lying now, she was following Penny’s orders. But why would Penny want to deny knowing Tyler Raines? And why did he want to deny knowing Penny?
Willow slowly edged away from Diana, growing more absorbed in watching her crown sparkle, when the phone rang. Just as well, Diana thought. Obviously she’d pushed Willow enough on the subject of Tyler Raines.
Diana answered the phone to hear a woman with a bubbly voice ask, “Is this Diana?”
“Yes. Mrs. . . . Wentworth?”
“Lenore, please. I hope I’m not calling too early.”
Diana glanced at her watch. “It’s eleven-ten. Hardly too early.”
“Some people I know sleep until noon on Sundays. Others—a very few—go to church.”
“Today I’m doing neither.”
“Then I’m so glad I was able to reach you!” Lenore paused and her voice grew more serious. “Diana, I always loved my niece dearly. I was so looking forward to being with her last night but things didn’t work out, to say the least. Jeff is going to the hospital to see Penny, and Blake is going with him. I know I should go, but frankly, I just can’t bring myself to see Penny in her condition.”
Conscious of Willow’s closeness, Diana merely asked, “Any word on her condition?”
“Jeff called the hospital but he’s in a ‘yes’ and ‘no’ mood this morning. He said they told him there’s no change in Penny. I got no other details. Maybe he didn’t either. I wish he wouldn’t try to see her, but when he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. Anyway, I wonder if it’d be okay if I—just me—come by and see Cornelia.”
Dread washed through Diana. She didn’t want to cause more trouble by refusing, but she would not have Willow upset again. “Could you wait just a minute until I ask Willow?” she asked pleasantly.
“Oh! Well, I guess not.” Lenore must have known her voice betrayed a trace of irritation. “I mean, of course you should ask her!”
Diana put her hand over the receiver. “Willow, your Aunt Lenore is on the phone. She was here last night but I don’t think you even saw her.” Willow’s gaze grew wary. “She seemed nice and she says she always loved you and she’d like to see you.” Willow frowned. “She made a point of saying she’d come by herself.”
“No Bad Man?” Willow asked fearfully.
“Absolutely not.”
Willow appeared to think for a moment. “Only if she promises it’s just her.”
“Lenore, Willow says it’s all right with her if you promise you’ll come alone.”
“Oh, dear, it’s as bad as all that? Well, we can’t do anything about it now. I promise to come alone. Cross my heart.”
“She says she crosses her heart.”
Willow seemed to think it over then finally nodded.
“Well, there goes our walk,” Diana muttered a minute later, after she’d said good-bye to Lenore. She’d been planning to leave in about fifteen minutes, thinking of how much Willow would enjoy playing in the park on this beautiful day, and the good photographs she could get of the child. Instead, they would be stuck in the house making uncomfortable conversation with Lenore Wentworth. . . .
Sister of Jeffrey Cavanaugh, Diana thought with abrupt uneasiness. Jeffrey, with his cold, silver eyes, his hostility, his determination to see his daughter—who’d called him the Bad Man and had a shrieking fit when she had seen him. Lenore had promised she would visit by herself, but Diana didn’t know how seriously this woman took a promise made to a child. Lenore might come by herself, and shortly afterward Jeffrey would show up while Diana sat there alone in the house with Willow.
For one flashing instant, Diana wished Tyler Raines were still standing out by that oak tree gazing at the house. She dismissed the wish as ridiculous—she should have called the police when she saw him last night, but she’d told herself that she didn’t want to throw the household into an uproar.
After her immediate desire for Tyler’s presence when she felt threatened by Lenore’s visit, though, Diana wasn’t so sure that not wanting to disturb everyone had been her real reason for not calling the police. When she’d crawled back in bed, leaving Christabel to watch him watching the house, she’d felt . . . safe.
“Safe!” she burst out, stunned by the thought.
“What? What’s wrong?” Willow squealed right beside her.
Diana pulled herself back to the moment and laughed. “Nothing, honey. I was just thinking of something and a word popped out of my mouth. Ignore me. I’m silly today.”
“That’s ’cause you didn’t eat breakfast,” Willow said wisely.
“Right,” Diana agreed, and thought she probably was being silly. Reason told her that she couldn’t trust a man who wasn’t telling the whole truth. She could not believe he didn’t know Penny and Willow, at least casually. He said he lived in New York—where Penny had lived with Jeffrey. He refused to tell her his occupation, but he’d gleaned information about the explosion from the police over twenty-four hours before they were read
y to make a public announcement.
She knew nothing about this man . . . except how the night of the fire he’d pulled her car to safety; or that he’d run into Clarice’s house and carried her out before she became trapped by flames; that he’d gone back to the site of the explosion to find Willow; that in the face of her irrational anger and tears yesterday because he hadn’t stayed with Willow in the emergency room, he’d pulled her close and said, ‘Don’t cry, darlin’.’ Most of all, Diana remembered that in spite of herself, she’d felt secure in his arms and both soothed and touched by Tyler’s deep, Southern voice murmuring those words with tenderness, that did not sound phony or patronizing.
Willow stood regarding her gravely, her crown listing to the right. “Diana, are you all right?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes, honey. I was just thinking about Lenore coming.”
The child immediately tensed. “You think she fibbed to us? You think she’s really gonna come with the Bad Man?”
“No,” Diana lied. “Still, I don’t believe we want to sit around here all afternoon, especially because we planned on a walk and taking some pictures.” She paused, thinking. “Willow, how would you like to have a picnic?”
“I love picnics, but maybe we should just hide in the house and not go to the door when the lady comes. I know you’re scared about the Bad Man, no matter what you say.”
The child was acutely perceptive, especially when it came to her mother and Diana. “Well, the Bad Man—I mean Jeffrey—can’t come into this house and cause trouble if we’re not here. We had a walk planned. It’s too pretty a day to miss a walk. There’s no reason why Lenore can’t come with us, and we’ll make a real occasion of it by having a picnic.”
Diana stood up and was talking as she headed for the kitchen, Willow right behind her. “I know we have lemonade. You like lemonade. And peanut butter and jelly and . . .” Diana opened the refrigerator door. “And turkey cold cuts! We can have two kinds of sandwiches! And potato chips—Nan thinks we don’t know she has a bag stashed in this cabinet but we do—and she has sugar cookies, too! Oh, bless you, Nan!”
“Bless Nan?”
“For bringing in food we need for our picnic. I don’t want to go to the store. I want to have everything ready when Lenore gets here.” So we don’t have to spend more than a few minutes alone in this house with her and God knows who else might show up, Diana thought. “It’ll be a surprise for her. She’ll get to see you and have a nice day in the park. Oh, where’s the picnic basket?” Willow pointed to a large pantry. “How did you know that?”
“Sometimes when I came with Mommy and she was workin’ with Uncle Simon, Mrs. Murphy let me explore. She’s way nicer than Nan.”
Nan. And Glen, whose class Nan took spring semester. Glen seducing a student, unless she simply had a crush on him and followed him around. Diana had a hard time believing Glen was merely the innocent object of a crush, now that she recalled a few awkward times when he and Nan had been in the same room and exchanged uncomfortable glances. She also recalled the afternoon they seemed to spring apart in the hall when Diana came down the stairs, and she’d told herself that they’d merely passed too close. And she remembered a day when every time she left the room, she came back to find the nonsocial Nan talking to Glen.
Glen was definitely involved with Nan. Diana knew she had to face it and she had to do something about it, even if it only meant she had to force Glen out of her own life. She couldn’t make Nan give up on a relationship that Diana was certain would only give the girl pain, but she didn’t have time to dwell on those two now.
Twenty minutes later, Diana had assembled a less-than-elegant collection of food in the big picnic basket. She’d just added a handful of paper napkins and three plastic cups when the doorbell rang. She opened the front door to see Lenore Wentworth waving away her husband, Blake, driving a white sedan.
She looked back at Diana. “Jeff took the Lincoln, of course. He left the car with the faulty air conditioner to us,” she said, rolling her eyes. “My! I didn’t even say hello!” She laughed. “Hi, Diana. I wish I was thin enough to wear such tight jeans and look so great in them!”
Diana laughed, slightly taken aback by Lenore’s exuberance but unable to receive her coolly. “Hello, Lenore. As for the tight jeans, I have a habit of getting busy and skipping meals. I’m glad you think I look nice. Uncle Simon complains that the modern woman is obsessed with denim. He claims he’s forgotten what I look like in a dress.” Lenore had stepped into the foyer. She smoothed her beige linen slacks and matching short-sleeved belted top that looked simple but Diana recognized as designer garb.
“It seems awfully quiet around here,” Lenore commented. “Are we alone?”
Diana spent a moment wondering if the question had significance before she decided to answer honestly. “Simon took Clarice to church.”
“And your housekeeper? Ann, is it?”
“Nan. Short for Nanette. Her mother, Martha Murphy, has been our housekeeper for twelve years, ever since she became a widow. Martha had a mild heart attack the first week in June, and she begged Simon to let her daughter fill in for her. All I can say is that we will be grateful beyond words when Mrs. Murphy returns in two weeks.”
Lenore burst into laughter. “So that’s the answer! Blake and I were baffled as to why you would have a housekeeper like Nan. She certainly has a style of her own!”
“That’s putting it mildly. Aside from being totally inexperienced, she doesn’t like us and doesn’t care about letting us know it. Oh well, we don’t have to endure her for much longer.”
“And there’s my niece right behind you. Darling, how cute you look!” Lenore effused. “When did you become a queen?”
Willow smiled tentatively. “I’m not really a queen. I don’t know if my crown’s got real diamonds. Diana bought it for me.”
“So it’s definitely not made of real diamonds,” Diana said dryly to Lenore.
“Who cares? The stones look like real diamonds and you look wonderful Cor—Willow. My husband and I decided this morning that because your mother wanted you to be named Willow, and it’s what you’ve gotten used to, we’ll both call you Willow instead of Cornelia.”
Willow smiled. “Good. I don’t like that other name.”
“That’s very considerate of you, Lenore,” Diana said.
“Well, I’d hate to be called a name I didn’t like.” Lenore looked at Willow. “Do you remember my name?”
Willow had heard Diana say “Lenore” twice in the last five minutes, but when she said, “Len-ore,” the woman clapped her hands.
“Even when you were little more than a baby, you were determined to say ‘Lenore,’ not ‘Len’ or ‘Nore,’ ” she exclaimed. “My husband, your uncle Blake, sometimes calls me Len, but you never did.”
“Oh,” Willow said, looking as if she didn’t really know how to respond to this information.
“I usually walk around the park on Sunday mornings and take pictures,” Diana intervened. “You said you’re an amateur photographer so I thought you might be interested. Then Willow and I decided it would be fun to have a picnic. Is that all right with you?”
When Lenore seemed startled and not pleased by this sudden change in plans, Diana felt a tinge of relief that she and Willow would not be staying alone in the house with this woman they didn’t know. Maybe someone else was supposed to arrive.
But Lenore’s expression quickly morphed into one of pleasure. “That does sound like fun. Maybe you’ll give me a few tips about photography. I’m sorry I didn’t know last night how accomplished you are, but it turns out my husband saw some of your photographs in a gallery in New York. He was very impressed with them. I felt like a complete idiot for bragging about the Christmas picture I’d taken.”
“You didn’t brag and the photo was quite good.” Lenore gave her a chastising look. “All right, it showed promise.”
“I consider that a compliment coming from you.” Her blue eyes darted aro
und. “Well, I guess we have some gear to gather up for our excursion.”
Diana picked up her newest camera and a blanket, while Lenore insisted on carrying the picnic basket. Willow removed her crown and they loaded into Diana’s car and drove down the hills to the parking lot beside the wide, flat land at the front of Ritter Park. Across the street stood some imposing, beautifully maintained homes. Near the entrance to the park, a large fountain sent sparkling jets of water into the air. Several stone bridges arched over the narrow Four Pole Creek and led to rustic steps ascending a hill to rose gardens.
“My goodness, this is just idyllic!” Lenore exclaimed, looking at the acres of lush grass and towering trees. “I had no idea. Last night we focused on finding your house and today I was chattering to Blake, as usual, and not paying attention to my surroundings. How big is this park?”
“About seventy acres,” Diana said as they climbed out of her car and looked for a good picnic spot. “There are tennis courts, the rose gardens—you can see a bit of them from down here—an amphitheater, and an impressive museum at the top of the hills above the park.”
“And see those steps over there?” Willow said, abruptly showing some of her usual ebullience. “There’s about a hundred of ’em goin’ up that hill—”
“I think it’s more like twenty-five or twenty-six steps,” Diana corrected, smiling.
“Yeah, well, a lot. They go up to the rose gardens, Lenore, and there’s this building up there with lots of glass called A Room with a View where people have weddings and parties after the wedding and the guests come out and walk around the roses and look over the hill and the fountain’s all lighted up and that’s where I’m gettin’ married when I pick out the right boy,” Willow ended breathlessly.
“My goodness”—Lenore smiled—“you certainly have things well planned, Willow. Do you have any boys in mind?”
“Mommy says I have plenty of time, but I know I want a prince or a movie star or a rock ’n’ roll singer. There’s a place here where they have rock ’n’ roll concerts and Diana and Mommy took me to three of ’em and I like the guys that sing. And play guitar. If I marry one of ’em, I’ll sing with him and his band.”
You Can Run... Page 17
