“I think you’re right, Maud. The little one is different. She loves to be hugged and smooched, and she gives it right back. She’s starved for love. I hate saying that, but it’s a pure fact. You know it, too, Maud.”
“I do, Jess, and it worries me. That little girl has enough to bear without thinking her mama doesn’t love her. I’m sure Nealy does love her, but for some reason she’s afraid to show it. She’s good to her, that’s for sure. She makes sure she eats well, gives the child her bath, makes sure her clothes are clean and pressed. You know what, Jess, it has to be hard talking to a child with your fingers all the time. She’s never short-tempered with her, just weary and tired.”
“What’s going to happen to that child when she grows to womanhood, Maud?” Jess asked. “The outside world isn’t kind to people with disabilities. Do you think after we’re gone, Nealy will want her here to keep her safe from that outside world, or will she send her to one of those special schools? One of those places where you live there on the premises and only come home for holidays and such.”
“I think she’ll keep Emmie here, Jess. I don’t think she would send her away. Nealy feels safe here. If she feels safe, her daughter is safe, too. She never wants to go to town, to a movie or to the Chinese restaurant. If she wants something, she just marks it on the chalkboard and counts out her money to pay for it. I think we both understand that she ran away from a bad situation and is afraid she’ll be found. She’s happy here, Jess. We’re happier than we’ve ever been ourselves since they got here.”
“Then I say we add Emmie’s name to the will. Half to Nealy and the other half to Emmie. That way we’ll be sure the child is taken care of and kept safe. We’ll add a clause to the will that says Emmie is to live here until she reaches her maturity.”
“I’m glad you said that, Jess. That’s the way we’ll do it. No need to tell Nealy. She might fuss up a bit.”
“You’re sure then that she loves the little tyke?” Jess said.
“Damn it, Jess, no, I’m not sure. I’m hoping she does. Just because she doesn’t go around saying, ‘I love you, I love you,’ doesn’t mean she doesn’t. Nealy isn’t all that verbal about her feelings. Sometimes she can be downright cold. Then there’s the guilt attached to the little one. I don’t know if that will ever go away. Add on the fact that she can’t talk. Double guilt.
“What we’ll do from here on in, Jess, is this. We will shower that little girl with love and affection. We’ll tell her a hundred times a day how much we love her because we do, and it will come easy to both of us. We’ll make sure she’s taken care of for the rest of her life. Nealy will be okay because she’s tough and resilient. I feel better now, Jess. Isn’t it time for some tea?”
Maud’s version of tea was a triple shot of Wild Turkey bourbon with an ounce of Lipton tea.
Nealy scurried across the kitchen and fled up the carpeted stairway to the second floor, where she collapsed on a stuffed ottoman next to a little table in the hallway. Her breathing was hard and ragged. Her face felt so hot, she thought she was going to burst into flames any second.
They loved Emmie more than they loved her. They appreciated how hard she worked, but they worried about her loving Emmie. They were going to make sure that Emmie was always kept safe from the wicked outside world. They loved her more. Well, she was never going to think about that again. Never, ever . . .
. . . Nealy woke with a start. She knuckled her eyes. She must have cried in her sleep. She looked around, aware that it would be light soon. Another new day. Maud always said a new day was whatever you made of it. You could waste it, or you could use it. She always used her days to the fullest, most times to the exclusion of all else that was personal.
Now she had to think about that.
In the kitchen she refilled her coffee cup and poured a cup for Hatch that she carried upstairs. “Brought you some coffee, honey!”
“Great. What brings you up here? Whoa, you’re still wearing your robe. Is today a holiday or something?”
“I couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs, made some coffee and sat on the porch, where I fell asleep. I just woke up. You know what, no one is missing me. Everything seems to be working. Oops, I spoke too quick. The phone’s ringing. I’ll get it. I’d kiss you good morning, but I don’t want to get shaving cream all over my face.”
“Hello, this is Nealy.”
“I’d like to speak to Hatch please. This is Cal.”
“It’s for you, Hatch. He said his name is Cal.”
Hatch wiped his face, rinsed his razor, and reached for the phone all at the same time.
“What’s up, Cal?”
“Mr. Zack Leroy applied for a passport yesterday and booked an overseas flight to Singapore. They’re rushing his passport through. This is a man who has never been out of the state of Nevada, and, as near as I can figure, the farthest he’s ever gone is Reno. He made arrangements to take his dog, too. Bought him a seat and everything. First class. Said he was legally blind, had the papers to prove it, and said he needed the dog with him at all times. He conveniently forgot to mention his cataract operation. It’s one way of avoiding the cargo hold for the dog and I, for one, would never ship my dog in cargo even on a short flight. I’m thinking Miz Willow Bishop got hold of him and arranged this trip. What do you want me to do, Hatch?”
“When does he leave?”
“Tomorrow at noon.”
Hatch’s brain raced. “This is what I want you to do. Call Spence Wakley. Tell him I want him on the same flight as Mr. Leroy. I can’t go since he might recognize me. There’s every chance he might remember seeing you around, too, since you’ve been shadowing him. Then book two tickets on the next flight for you and me. Tell Spence not to lose Leroy. Make arrangements for us to meet up when we get there. I’ll fly to Vegas this afternoon, hook up with you this evening at some point. I’ll alert the authorities and, who knows, maybe they’ll deputize me.”
“You know, Hatch, there’s a rumor here in town that someone is passing out free money. All good, worthy causes. Bundles of money to churches, the homeless shelters, hospitals, all kinds of places. The animal shelter out in the desert said they got a couple of million dollars. I just thought I’d mention it. The really funny thing is, all those lucky recipients were visited by Zack Leroy. He went to the animal shelter and donated fifty dollars. He wrote out a check. He sure goes to church a lot. One church after the other. All the churches he visited got money for additions, new roofs, new furnaces, and money to help their poor parishioners. Those soup kitchens . . . they’re serving steak and roast beef, turkey, shrimp, and lobster. Mr. Leroy donated ten-dollar checks to each one he visited. My mind is always working three steps ahead of everyone else. I’m not saying it means anything. Maybe yes, maybe no. It sure is strange, though. I’ll call Spence and get right on those tickets. See you tonight. You’re staying at Babylon, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll meet you at some point in the Harem Bar.”
Hatch turned to Nealy when he hung up the phone. “I’m going to Singapore. I think we have a real hot lead on Willow Bishop. You don’t mind, do you, Nealy?”
“No. It’s okay. Is this ever going to be over?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is my client skipped out on me not once but twice. That doesn’t look good for any lawyer no matter how good he is. She’s as wily as a fox. I feel sorry for that old guy if he aided and abetted her. Why do people always think they’re above the law?”
“Isn’t it human nature to think you’re smarter than the other guy?” Nealy asked. “I hope you find her and bring her back so Nick can lay it all to rest. If she’s out there, living the good life, she’ll always be in his thoughts. It will never end for him. He needs closure. Either she did it or she didn’t. A court will decide that.”
“Spoken like a true mother.” Hatch grinned.
His words so pleased Nealy she reached up and kissed him.
“Now, now, none of that. That leads to other
things, and I have to head for the airport.” Nealy wiggled her butt as she sashayed over to the shower. Hatch groaned.
Nealy argued with herself all the way into town. Do I really want to do this? No. Should I do it? Yes. Why? Because it’s time to deal with that. In fact, it’s way past time to deal with that.
She’d searched the Yellow Pages after Hatch left for the airport and called three different psychiatrists. She asked for an appointment and was told there had been a cancellation and she could be seen at 1:30, the first appointment of the afternoon. She’d agreed.
It was a medical building in the heart of town. It looked like any other building that housed insurance companies, stockbrokers, or travel agencies. Dr. Elizabeth Shay’s office was on the fourth floor.
Nealy climbed out of the car and walked across the parking lot to the front entrance of the building. Inside, she walked to the elevator and stopped, turned around, and walked back to the front door, where she stopped again. She took a deep breath and retraced her steps to the elevator. She pressed the UP button and gulped air again just as the elevator door slid open. Her shaky index finger jabbed at the number 4.
It was a quiet floor. Since she was ten minutes early, she walked down the hall looking at the names on the different office suites. Dr. Leland McEvoy and underneath, Urologist. Farther down was Dr. Anthony Bella, an obstetrician. Across from Dr. Bella was Dr. Nolan Prentice who was an ENT and an audiologist. At the opposite end of the hallway there were only two suites, Dr. Elizabeth Shay and Dr. Monica Lupinsky who was a dermatologist.
A tiny bell, barely audible, could be heard when she opened the door. The waiting room was small but cozy and warm. Current magazines lay on the table along with a bowl of colorful hard candies. A luscious orchid plant rested in one corner. The paintings were subdued watercolors. A meadow full of daisies, a beach scene with tranquil water lapping at the shoreline, and a third painting of an apple tree loaded with bright red apples. The apples looked so real she wanted to reach up and pick one. Instead she sat down and waited.
A young woman appeared quietly with a clipboard. “Fill out both forms, and I’ll need your insurance card to photocopy.” Nealy complied and waited.
Ten minutes later the door opened, and the woman said, “Doctor Shay will see you now, Mrs. Littletree.”
She’d been hoping for an older woman, a more motherly-looking person. This fashionable woman, who was half her age, surely wouldn’t be able to help her. She looked so chic, just like her fast-track attorney, Clementine Fox, with her designer suits and pricey high-end shoes. “You’re so young,” she blurted. Elizabeth Shay smiled, and it was suddenly all right.
“I’m Liz and you’re Nealy. Is that all right with you?” Nealy nodded. “Now tell me why you’re here.”
Nealy looked down at her hands. “Because . . . of jealousy, fear, a dream, my daughter, my husband, the horses, and, of course, guilt. So much guilt.”
“Where would you like to start, Nealy?”
Nealy smiled. “I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. I hope you have a lot of time.”
“I have all the time in the world, Nealy. You were born. Then what happened?”
When Nealy walked out of the psychiatrist’s office fifty minutes later she didn’t know if she felt better or worse. Her throat felt scratchy from talking so much, and her eyes itched. She wanted to cry, but she fought the hot, threatening tears that were forming in her eyes. This was not going to be easy, that much she now knew. Well, if Emmie could bare her soul to a shrink, how could she do less?
The late-afternoon sunshine cast a glare on the beige console of her car, causing it to reflect on the windshield. She continued to sit, staring out the window. Why wasn’t she starting up the car? Why wasn’t she heading back to Blue Diamond Farms? Because I don’t want to go there now. I don’t know why I don’t want to go there. I just don’t. What should she do? Where should she go? Should she just sit and think about the past fifty minutes? She could do that back at the farm on the front porch. Or upstairs in the room she shared with Hatch.
What was it Liz Shay had said? “Don’t expect me to give you answers. You’re going to have to work to find those answers, Nealy. I’ll guide you, that’s my job. Your job is to be truthful and honest and delve into the past that you buried so deep you’re going to need several shovels to unearth it all. I’ll be with you every step of the way, but you’re the one who is going to do all the work. We’re going to start this very afternoon. Can you commit to this?” Of course she had said yes.
But did she really want to do it? Or did she need to do it? Maybe what she really needed to do was to go shopping. Women always went shopping when things overwhelmed them. If they didn’t shop, then they drank tea. Maybe she could buy something and stop for a cup of tea. It sounded like a half-baked plan, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment. She put the car in gear, looked to the right and the left before she pulled out onto the highway. She drove several blocks before she found a parking spot.
The clock on Guerrin’s Pharmacy said it was 4:59. The stores would be closed in an hour. Shopping in a drugstore was just as good as shopping in a department store. You could buy suitcases, cameras, and toilet paper in a drugstore these days. Hatch needed shaving cream and deodorant. She could use a new hairbrush. Toothpaste was always a good thing to buy in a drugstore. Shampoo was something else she could stock up on.
She was pleased to see the long soda counter where hot dogs, sandwiches, and coffee were sold. A sign said they sold nine different kinds of ice cream. The big question was, did they sell tea? One-stop shopping. Tea with lemon or milk? It seemed at the moment like a horrific decision.
Forty-seven dollars later, Nealy carried her shopping bag to the counter and sat down. A perky youngster in a yellow tee shirt and cut-off shorts bounced up to the counter. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
Ma’am. People used to call Maud Diamond ma’am. Ma’am meant you were old.
“Yes. I’d like a cup of tea.”
“Lemon or milk?”
Here it was, the big question she’d been dreading. She eyed the three sugar donuts under a glass dome. “Plain. Three sugars.” Ah, the world was looking brighter.
She felt a presence and looked up. “Nealy. You’re the last person I expected to see in here. I know you don’t want me to sit down next to you, but I’m going to sit down anyway. We need to talk, and this is as good a place as any. I was on my way out to the farm to pick up Emmie when I saw you come in here. It’s a good thing, because Gabby needs some more Mister Bubble.”
Dillon Roland sat down next to her. He placed the package with the Mister Bubble on the counter in front of him.
Nealy swiveled on the stool to stare into the man’s eyes. The man she hated with every fiber in her body. “You’re the last person on this earth I want to sit next to, Dillon. You aren’t spying on me, are you?”
“No, I’m not spying on you, and I know I’m the last person in the world you want to sit next to. I’ve wanted to talk to you for years, really talk to you. That time you came to my office you were loaded for bear. It wasn’t the time then because I was still doing all the things my father demanded of me. Just hear me out, Nealy, and I’ll never subject you to my presence again. Just hear me out. Ten minutes. Eight if I talk fast. Surely you can give me eight minutes of your valuable time.”
Nealy eyed the huge clock over the back of the counter. She could see powdered sugar on the oak frame. The girls must dust the donuts under the clock, she thought. “Okay, Dillon, eight minutes.” She pointed to the clock. Dillon nodded.
“Let’s get right to it. I can never excuse what I did or said way back then. Look, I was just a young kid of seventeen just like you were. I had a father that was demanding just the way yours was. The truth is, I think he was worse. I loved you back then, Nealy. You were the sunshine in my life. Those poems I wrote to you were from my heart to your heart. Back then I didn’t know what to do. Call me gutless, a cowa
rd, whatever you want. I won’t deny it. I was all those things and maybe more. I didn’t think about you, what it was like for you. My mind couldn’t accept it. I just thought about myself and what my father would do.” He paused and checked the clock. “I never once measured up in his eyes. God knows I tried and tried. Jesus, my life was hell, and so was yours. Don’t you remember how we told each other all our secrets and how being together for those little bits of time made it all better? At least for a little while.
“Some small part of me, the decent part, wants to believe I would have done something for you at some point in time. I thought about you all the time, day and night, wondering how you were, what you were doing. That shotgun business, that was bravado. Hell, we didn’t even own a shotgun. I know it was worse for you. Much worse. If there was a way to unring the bell, I would.
“I finished school and got married to someone my father approved of. She came from an incredibly wealthy family. My father adored money. Actually, the man worshiped it. It wasn’t a happy marriage. I had many affairs over the years. So did my wife. After our sons were born, we lived separate lives. I know now that I was looking for you in every woman I met. No, no, don’t say anything. My children are worthless human beings. It pains me to say this, but it’s true. My wife spoiled them and so did my father. None of them has worked a day in his life, and I don’t expect that will ever change. They never call, and I never see them. Their trust funds will outlive them.
“When Emmie called me that night it was like my whole world turned around. I love her, Nealy. You did a good job raising her. She and Gabby are the sunshine in my life these days. I don’t ever want to lose that. They’re the reason I want to get up in the morning. No, I don’t want your horses. I don’t want anything from you. I never wanted one of your horses for myself. I wanted one for my father. Back then, I was still seeking his approval. When I finally realized I would never get it, I quit trying. I did love you, Nealy, with all my heart. If I close my eyes, even now, after all these years, I can still remember how you smelled, how you laughed, how good you felt in my arms, how your eyes would shine when I read one of my poems to you. At night I would lie awake in bed and ache for you. Then I’d get up and write a poem for you. Look,” he said, pulling a tattered notebook out of his inside breast pocket. “I kept this in my car for years and years and never took it out until Emmie came into my life. When I saw you come in here, I went back to the car to get it. The dates are on the poems. I’m giving this to you so you can understand me a little better. I waited a long time to say these things to you. My shoulders feel better already.
Kentucky Sunrise Page 22
