"Chester is a very sweet looking baby," she went on, skipping from topic to topic like she was in a hopscotch game. "I think he's going to look more like Samuel. Samuel thinks so, too," she said, adding that because she thought it would bother me.
"Oh? Well, I'm not troubled by that. Samuel is a good-looking man."
"Yes, he is. Maybe not as handsome as Nelson Childs, but good-looking," she teased. I gave her my best scowl and she laughed. How she could vex me when she tried, I thought.
The next morning Nelson came to the hospital with Samuel to see Chester.
"He's a fine-looking baby," Nelson said. "Your father would have been very proud."
"Daddy was hoping for a granddaughter to spoil," I replied and then added, "like he spoiled my sister. Everyone is always spoiling her."
I watched Nelson's eyes. They shifted guiltily away and he quickly changed the topic.
Sometimes the world around me seemed like it was filled with small pools of deception, lies that like quicksand would pull me down into confusion if I wasn't careful about where I stepped.
"I'm sure we'll have a daughter someday," Samuel declared with his chest out.
"Not someday soon," I said and the two men whose only pain in the birth of their children was the pain in the pocketbooks, laughed heartedly.
Thelma said she would have no difficulty looking after Chester as well as Jacob. She truly enjoyed children and wanted to be more occupied. I considered her my best discovery and I was truly grateful I had her. It meant that as soon as I was on my feet, I could return to my work and feel confident that someone reliable was looking after our children.
Events in our lives took on a quick pace when I returned from the hospital. Less than a month after I had put Daddy's house on the market, we had a viable offer. I closed the sale satisfactorily and then went about selling, donating and bringing home the family possessions I wanted. I told Belinda to go to the house to see if there was anything she cherished, but she never went back once she had gotten her own things. Nothing apparently held any sentimental value for her. It didn't surprise me. She had spent most of her youth finding ways to leave the house. In my mind she used it like a hotel and all the rest of us, even our parents, as servants.
Belinda didn't settle down after Daddy's death. I learned that she had done passingly well at the business school and might even have graduated if she had wanted, but real work was not something she sought with any enthusiasm. Somehow, she was able to occupy her time with her frivolous activities, traveling with friends occasionally and always talking about doing something dramatic.
"Maybe I should become an actress. I might try out for a part in a play at the Provincetown
Playhouse," she declared at dinner one night. "I met a young director who thinks I might be just right for a character in a play he's doing. I'm seeing him this weekend. For a private audition," she added, batting her eyelashes at Samuel. Amusement with her made his eyes brighten as if they had fireflies dancing in them.
"Acting might be just the right thing for you, Belinda," I said. "It comes naturally."
She took it as a compliment.
"That's what I think. I'll see. I'm really not too excited about having to memorize lines and be at the same place every day for weeks and weeks," she said.
Becoming an actress was just another thing she tinkered with, never really intending to do anything serious about it. To Belinda there was nothing worse than being bored. She had the attention span of a hummingbird, hovering over some sweet possibility for a moment and then jerking herself away to explore another and another. Even when she talked to someone at a party, her eyes wandered about to see if there was someone else to whom she should be speaking. The only way she would ever get married was if she were placed in a straitjacket and brought-th the altar, I thought.
When it became clear that Belinda was now someone with some money, she attracted an entirely new clique of male acquaintances, dangling the promise of a serious relationship like fish bait. There seemed always to be someone calling on her. She played with them, amused herself with them and then dropped them as if they had contracted the plague. Still, they came around, called and begged for an opportunity to win her affections. I never stopped being amazed at how gullible most men were.
It went on and on like this for nearly a year, and then suddenly, a week went by and no one came. She remained at home watching television or reading magazines, having only an occasional phone call from one of her girlfriends. She stopped in at the offices more often and showed some interest in what we were doing. Samuel took her to lunch and answered her questions, ostensibly to keep her out of my way and amuse her.
Soon after that she started to go places again, but as far as I could see, she was always by herself. She had her own car, of course, and took herself wherever she wanted. Her comings and goings became more unpredictable and when I asked her what she was doing now, she was cryptic, and did not brag about the men she was stringing along, the places they were taking her and the money they were spending on her.
One day at the office, I went to Samuel and asked him about it. He seemed to know more about Belinda these days than I did. He thought a moment, sat back and nodded.
"I think she has someone," he said, "someone a little more serious than her usual male fare."
"Who? Is it someone who will disgrace us? Is that why she's being secretive?"
"I don't know," he said. "I'm just guessing. I really don't know. Why don't you ask her?"
"I have been asking her and she's avoided answering me."
"Have her followed," he suggested with a smile. I recalled her once accusing me of doing just that.
"Maybe I will," I said. He widened his eyes.
"I was just joking. You wouldn't, would you?"
"We have a great deal at stake in this
community, Samuel, not the least of which is our family reputation. Congressmen, judges, major businessmen and their families have all been invited to our home. You are judged by the company you keep," I said, recalling one of my father's adages.
"Of course," he said. "If you think it might be necessary . ."
"I don't want any more dramatic surprises," I affirmed.
He shook his head in despair, but didn't disagree. I let another week pass before deciding I would take some action. There were nights Belinda never came home. She claimed she had visited a friend down the Cape or had gone on someone's boat, and she got angry at me for even asking.
"I'm not a little girl anymore, Olivia. I agreed to the sale of Daddy's home and my living here as long as I wasn't going to be treated like a little girl. I don't ask you where you go every time you leave the house, do I?"
"That's quite different. Where do I go but places with my husband or places for business reasons?"
"Still," she said petulantly, "I don't give you the third degree, do I? Live and let live."
"You're spending money like it's going out of style," I said. "I have a pile of bills on my desk that would choke an accountant."
"What I spend, I need to spend," she claimed. "Isn't it mine to spend, too?"
"At this rate you'll deplete your inheritance in a few years," I told her. She shrugged.
"There will be someone to take care of me, I'm sure," she said with an arrogant confidence that made my blood almost hot enough to boil.
Frustration like arthritis crept into my very joints. Why I should even bother with her, I didn't know. I vowed to put her out of my mind, but I couldn't help worrying about what she would do to us in the community. Samuel's and my reputations had been growing dramatically. We were on everyone's Alist for parties again. People didn't necessarily like me, but they definitely respected me. I wasn't going to see all that jeopardized by an empty-headed self-centered sister.
Finally, I picked up the phone and called someone a business acquaintance had recommended. He was not a private detective so much as he was an insurance investigator. His name was Nicholas Koson. I didn't meet h
im at my office because I didn't want Samuel to know I was hiring him. I went to him and told him what I wanted.
"I don't have to emphasize how important it will be for you to be discreet," I said.
"Of course. That's what I do best," he claimed and I gave him his retainer, along with pictures of Belinda.
I could have waited and saved money. Less than ten days later, Belinda came to me on her own and revealed everything. The dark shadow that had been lingering behind my heart moved over it like a conquering army, full of joy and pleasure in its victory. I had been right; I had always been right.
Sometimes, when evenings were warm, after the children had been fed and were put to bed, I would go out and sit in my gazebo. Samuel liked to read his papers or watch some sporting event on television. More and more lately, he would go down to the wharf and talk with fishermen. I didn't mind the solitude. I welcomed it. My days were hectic and full of interaction with people. It was good to have these quiet moments during which I could reflect on how things were going and what I hoped to do in the future for the family. I was already thinking about Jacob's and Chester's prospects, what kind of men they would be, wives they would have. I hoped I would be a bigger influence on them than Samuel.
Tonight, the moon was big and bright with an occasional cloud streaking its face, making it seem sinister for a moment and then happy again. It was the way I felt.
"There you are," I heard and turned to see Belinda come out of the house and walk toward me. She was wearing a sleeveless light blue cotton dress and her arms gleamed in the moonlight. Despite her cavalier lifestyle, her drinking and late hours, she still maintained an attractive figure and a remarkably soft, rich complexion. Why she should be so blessed, I did not know. What I did know was she took it all for granted, never thanking her lucky stars.
There was a warm, steady breeze tonight. It made some of the strands of her hair dance wildly about her forehead. She paused at the steps of the gazebo.
"Honoring us with your presence at home tonight?" I asked. "Or am I invading your privacy by asking?"
She looked toward the sea.
"You're going to hate me," she said. My heart stopped and started.
"I thought you believed I already did," I replied. She turned.
"Don't joke with me, Olivia. I'm in trouble."
I took a deep breath. The fear in her voice, the smallness and little girl sound softened my hardened heart. I heard Daddy's death-bed whisper, urging me to promise to watch over Belinda.
"What have you done now?" I finally asked.
"I don't know how it happened. I have always been very careful ever since . . . ever since that time," she said. She sat on the steps with her back to me. I didn't move.
Against the horizon, a luxury liner with its glittering lights appeared. Although it was too far from shore, I imagined I heard the music and the laughter of people who had left all their cares and worries behind. They were floating on a ship of happiness where no one talked of sickness or failure or defeat. All their family problems had been left on shore. How I wished I could fly over the water and be dropped on its deck.
"So you're pregnant again?"
"Yes."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes," she said. "I went to a doctor. Don't worry," she quickly added, "he's not a doctor here. He's a doctor in Boston. He called me today to tell me I was pregnant."
"And like last time, you have no idea who the father is because there were so many in so short a period, right?" I said in a voice dripping with exhaustion and disgust. It was like deja vu.
She turned. Even in the darkness, I could see her eyes burn.
"No. I know who the father is. He's the only one I've been with this last month or so," she said.
"Really? Well, that's some relief. Do you intend to marry?" I asked.
"No, we can't marry."
"Why not?"
"He's already married," she said.
I held my breath. Ice seemed to enter my lungs and shrivel them with constricting pain. It couldn't be. No, it couldn't be.
"Who is it?" I finally found the courage and strength to ask. She looked at the sea again.
"Don't be mad at me," she said.
Was she going to name Samuel? My own husband had betrayed me. Was that why he was always defending her, why he didn't want me to hire a detective? I had left them alone together too many times. I should have known. What a fool I've been. What could be more embarrassing?
I didn't reveal my fears.
"Why should I be mad at you? It's not like I didn't expect you'd come to tell me this one day, not with the life you lead, Belinda."
"Promise?" she asked.
"Oh, stop these childish games. Out with it and that's that."
She turned.
"Nelson," she said, "Nelson Childs."
How many times can you die in one life? How many times can your heart sink, can everything that kept you buoyant and energetic be swiped away from you? Did I ever go to sleep without some fantasy involving Nelson? Could I ever stop my heart from pounding when he approached or touched me or when we danced at affairs? His laughter lingered in my ears, his breath on my cheek. How I enjoyed the way he always drank me in with his eyes, those laughing eyes, full of sparkling lights. When it came to Nelson Childs, I was the cockeyed optimist. It was practically the only time I was.
"You're lying," I said.
"I'm not. I wish I was," she moaned.
"When could you . . . did you . . . and he, I mean . ."
"We met in Boston whenever he had to be there for a trial or to do some legal business. I couldn't help it!" she cried.
"Why would he bother with you? He's happily married," I said desperately trying to find reasons, ways to disprove her confession and accusations.
"His wife's always pregnant. She's pregnant now. I don't know why. He likes me. He's always liked me, but not enough to marry me," she wailed.
"Then why didn't you stay away from him? How could you let this happen?"
"I don't know. I was bored and Nelson's always been lots of fun."
I sat there, fuming. I didn't know who I was angry at more, Nelson or Belinda? After I had confronted him with what I had seen him and Belinda doing in the boathouse, he had assured me nothing like that would ever happen again. Men should never be permitted to make promises, I thought. Their tongues should shrivel as soon as they begin to say the words "I promise."
"I guess I have to go get an abortion," she said through her tears.
I thought for a long moment.
"No," I declared.
"What?"
"No, you're not getting an abortion, Belinda. You're not letting him just get away with this, not this time. I forbid it," I said.
"Well what will I do then? I can't have a baby. What am I going to do with a baby?" she wailed.
"It's not just your baby, is it? It's Nelson's child, too," I said.
She whimpered and sobbed and stared up at me.
"What do you mean, Olivia? You're going to make him keep the baby? His wife won't like that, will she?"
"I'm not thinking about his wife right now. Did he think about his wife when he met with you in Boston? Did he?" I snapped at her. She shook her head.
"I don't want to have another baby," she cried. "I'm frightened."
"That's stupid, Belinda. I've had two, haven't I? The reason you had that horror show the first time is you kept it a secret and didn't do the right things. It will be different this time. Yes," I said with a strong sense of determination turning my spine to steel. "It will be quite different. This time you have me."
"I'm still afraid," she said. "It gives me chills just thinking about it," she said shaking herself as if she were shaking off ice water. "And I have nightmares every night. I can't fall asleep unless I drink myself to sleep. Olivia, do you hear me?"
I snapped out of my deep thought and glared down at her.
"I saidI'll be with you, didn't I? You won't have to be afraid of an
ything," I told her. "Now, does he know yet? Well?" I demanded when she hesitated.
"No. I thought I'd do what had to be done. I wasn't going to tell him. I'm afraid to tell him. I was afraid he would just blame me or he would deny it and make me look foolish. He's a very important man now. Do I have to tell him?"
"No," I said softly, "you don't have to tell him. I'll tell him," I said.
"You will?" she asked, drying her eyes and sniffling.
"Yes," I said turning back to the sea. The luxury liner was gone. There were no lights except the reflections of cold stars above. "Yes, I will."
16
Forced Confessions
.
If I had had any doubts that Belinda was telling
the truth, and I wish I had, they would have been snuffed out the following afternoon when I received a phone call from Nicholas Koson.
"Is it all right for me to talk?" he asked in a loud whisper, which I thought was overly dramatic. He sounded like someone with a hoarse throat.
"Pardon?"
"Is this a secured line, Mrs.. Logan?" he explained. I nearly laughed aloud at his cloak and dagger style, but that was what these people were paid to produce, I supposed.
"Of course it is," I said. "You think my telephones have been tapped?"
"No, no, not at all. I've completed a report and following your instructions for hard facts as soon as possible, I thought I would give you the highlights verbally. During the past week, your sister was in Boston twice. She checked into the Admiral's Inn, which is just north of the city, and signed her real name."
"Belinda is not a spy," I reminded him. "She's my sister."
"Yes, of course, but when people conduct clandestine affairs, they usually take some basic precautions."
"Not my sister," I muttered. That was painfully true now, I thought.
"Yes, I see. Continuing," he went on in a rather nasal tone, "she was soon visited by a prominent Province-town attorney." He paused. "Are you sure it's all right to give you this over the phone?"
"Please finish this," I snapped. "I have a desk covered with business that cries for my immediate attention."
"Yes, I'm sorry. You surely know the gentleman to whom I refer, Nelson Childs. I think he was recently appointed to a judgeship. He remained at the location with your sister for nearly three hours the first time and a little more than four the second," he added.
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