Phantom of Riverside Park

by Peggy Webb

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?”

  “Yes. Before you begin, I’d like to ask one question.”

  “All right. Go ahead.”

  “What do you think are the chances that either of these plans will work?”

  “I don’t have an answer to that, Elizabeth. I do believe that your chances are better with one of my plans than without.”

  She bowed her head for a moment and pressed the flat of her hand against her forehead. Then she stared across the darkened space, and it seemed she was looking straight into his eyes.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

  David decided to propose the least innocuous plan first. Besides, he needed to work up courage before proposing the second.

  “I think you can weaken the Belliveaus case, and even topple it altogether by moving into a better neighborhood and hiring a competent credentialed nanny, who might not be as good as your Papa, mind you, but who will be much younger. Also, I think you need the best child custody lawyer you can get because the Belliveaus not only have a cracker-jack lawyer in their corner, they have a judge.”

  He paused briefly, watching her face. She’d opened her mouth to protest about replacing her Papa, as he’d known she would, and that’s why he’d added the caveat. It was fascinating how much you could learn about a person simply by observation. Loyal to the bone was one of the terms that came into mind when he thought of Elizabeth.

  “To do all that, you’ll need the million dollars I propose to give you. And because the Belliveaus’ lawyer will try to put a nasty spin on your sudden wealth, I will reveal myself not only as your donor, but as the donor of many millions over the past ten years.”

  True to her promise, she was still silent, waiting for his cue.

  “That’s the gist of my first proposal. Any questions?”

  “You’d give up your anonymity for me... for Nicky?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there no other way?”

  “No. If you take the money and I don’t come forward, you will be dragged through the dirt and painted as a harlot, or worse. Belliveaus’ lawyers will crucify you.”

  “You make it sound horrible, and I know you’re right. I never dreamed this could all turn so ugly.”

  “I could be wrong, of course, but I don’t think so. Did you perceive Anna Lisa and Ralph Belliveau as people likely to give up easily?”

  “No. I think she could be persuaded to reason, but not Taylor’s daddy. He’s a bulldog. He’s got his teeth in this case, and he’s not about to give up without a fight to the death.”

  “From reports I have, that’s also my perception of him.”

  David waited for everything he’d proposed to sink in. Elizabeth sat with her hands folded in her lap, her head slightly bowed. A casual observer might have thought she was defeated or praying, but David was not casual, not about Elizabeth. There was tension in every line of her body.

  He wanted to go down to the Delta and personally throttle everybody responsible for her agony. His anger was way out of proportion considering that he was a mere bystander, an outsider whose only interest was in seeing justice done.

  Wasn’t that his only interest? It was a question that would keep awake most of the night. He knew that, even now while Elizabeth was still sitting in his office with her silky hair half-hiding her face.

  She might as well be on the moon.

  “You said you have two proposals?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is the second?”

  “You would move Nicky into a good house in a good neighborhood. Papa, too. You would have the best nanny money could buy. You could continue working if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t have to. The same with school. And you would have the best lawyer money can buy.”

  His palms began to sweat, and he felt as if his skin has suddenly stretched too big for his suit. His tie felt like a noose.

  “I don’t understand,” Elizabeth said. “That’s exactly like the first proposal. What’s the difference?”

  Her question hung fire. There was no backing out now, no changing his mind. He’d gone too far to quit.

  “The difference is that everything would belong to you legally, the house, the money, everything. The difference is that you would be my wife.”

  She didn’t gasp. She didn’t look terror-struck, or even astonished. In fact, she didn’t even move.

  If she had done any of those things he’d probably have told her it was a bad idea and to forget the whole thing. Or else he’d have walked the three steps to safety and vanished behind his secret door.

  “You’re asking me to marry you?” Her softly spoken question brought him back to reality.

  “In name only.” Why did it hurt so much to say those words? He’d have many long, empty hours to ponder. “After the case is settled or dropped, as we hope it will be, I would give you an annulment, and you could walk away, free and clear.”

  He found himself using his most persuasive manner. That’s something he’d have to think about, too. Why? Why, all of a sudden, was he so desperate to make proposal number two sound like the better deal?

  “Furthermore, I would give you a generous settlement that would allow you to live anywhere in the world. Nicky could go to the best schools. Your Papa could live out the rest of his life in ease and luxury. You would never have to worry about money again.”

  “It all comes back to money, doesn’t it?”

  “Children can’t be taken away because the parents don’t have money. If that were true, kids around the world would be snatched from their homes. Your case, though, hinges on what money can buy: safety and security for Nicky and a good lawyer.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t understand your question.”

  “Why me? Why have you chosen to shower all this generosity on me? What do you hope to gain?”

  He should have known she wouldn’t let him get by with making such outlandish offers without asking the hard questions. Unfortunately, she’d chosen the most difficult of all.

  “Why did I chose any of the recipients over the years? Their stories intrigued me. I thought them deserving. Helping them made me feel good. Perhaps that’s the crux of the matter. Perhaps I’m merely trying to redeem myself.”

  “That’s it? You want nothing more from me than another chance to feel good about being the giver?”

  “If you’re worried that I will try to claim any conjugal rights, you can put your mind at ease.”

  “The thought never entered my mind. You said you would marry me ‘in name only,’ and I know you’re a man of your word. I trust you, David.”

  It wasn’t much. A crumb. But it would have to do.

  “You don’t have to make your decision now, Elizabeth. Take as much time as you need.”

  “Time’s running out for me.”

  “We do need to move fairly quickly. Still, at least sleep on it. You can let me know in the next couple of days what you decide.”

  “Thank you, David. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come home.”

  “I’m here to help you get your child back. That’s my only motive, Elizabeth. Please don’t think I’m trying to use your situation to take personal advantage of you.”

  “The thought never entered my mind.”

  He was amazed at how much more relaxed she seemed than when she’d first entered the room. Amazed and somewhat scared. Elizabeth was placing her future in his hands. Her act of courage required enormous trust, enormous confidence. What if he let her down?

  He wouldn’t let himself even think of defeat. If he did, he was doomed before he ever started. They all were: Elizabeth, Nicky, Papa.

 
Beware of challenging the gods. Where had he read that? Or had he just made it up because it was so fitting for the situation?

  “Edwards will see you safely home,” he said.

  “I don’t know what to say, David, except thank you, and that seems so inadequate.”

  “You’re welcome, Elizabeth. Take care.”

  As he watched her leave the circle of light across the room, David realized that the possibility of losing Nicky was not the only danger. He stood in peril as well. If she accepted his second proposal he was in danger of losing everything: his anonymity, his privacy, and perhaps even his heart. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for the child ... but most of all, for the child’s mother.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Elizabeth didn’t know how one mortal being could contain so much anxiety without exploding. In the car going home David’s words played over and over in her head.

  Thank goodness Edwards was not the nosey, talkative type. If he’d asked her a single question, even which was the best street to turn on to get to her house, she would have exploded. Right there in the lemon zing.

  Oh, God. Nicky.

  She missed him so much that sometimes she couldn’t even breathe. She would sit up at night gasping for breath, then race to the window and lean her head out into the night looking for relief in air that hadn’t even cooled a decent five degrees from the wretched, blistering heat that had gripped Memphis since early summer.

  It was almost as if the elements were smothering, too, in sympathy with her plight.

  What was she going to tell David Lassiter in the morning? What would her answer be?

  She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. Her head was pounding so she thought she might faint in the car. There were so many people she had to consider, so many angles. Nicky was paramount, of course. Getting him back was her main goal, her only goal.

  If she chose the money she would have the best of everything for all of them--the best house, the best neighborhood, the best life, the best lawyers--and without the legal entanglement, not to mention the emotional one, of a marriage.

  How could he think she would go into a marriage with a man she didn’t even know? Marriage was supposed to be about love that melted your bones and a four-poster bed built for two and promises before Papa and God to cherish forever after. Marriage was supposed to be the kind Mae Mae had.

  Still, there was the question of facing a firing line of lawyers bent on proving her criminal connections if she suddenly turned up rich. The worst had already happened to her: she’d lost her son. There was nothing she couldn’t face now.

  But could Papa hold up through such an ordeal? And what about Nicky? If she took that route would it take longer to get him back?

  Maybe. Probably. She didn’t know.

  She longed for a tall glass of Mae Mae’s lemonade with lots of ice and sugar and real slices of lemon floating on the top. One of her favorite stories from Mae Mae was how she used to make it by the barrel to take to Memorial Day services at the Baptist church that featured all-day singing and dinner on the ground.

  The all-day-singing part made sense to Elizabeth, because it was an obvious and tedious truth. So many people in Tunica and the surrounding counties fancied themselves singers that everybody and his second cousin showed up with a group in order to make his talents known to the Tunica Baptists in particular and the world at large.

  It was the dinner-on-the-ground part that got Elizabeth. Dinner was not served on the ground, Mae Mae said. Fifty good Baptist women would have dropped dead at the mention of such sacrilege. The fried chicken and potato salad and fresh coconut cake they’d slaved over, bragged over and prayed over was served on makeshift tables spread with snow-white linen table clothes.

  “White as snow... washed in the blood of the Lamb...marching to Zion...Jesus saves.”

  Snatches of the old hymns tumbled through her mind, and sitting right there in the limousine she thought she heard Nicky belting out “Gladly, the cross-eyed bear.”

  Who was going to save him?

  Elizabeth started to cry. What she longed for was not Mae Mae’s lemonade but the simplicity and promise of days gone by, days when the most exciting thing that happened all day long might be seeing Taylor zip by in his sports car while she sat on a rocking chair on the front porch surrounded by shade and peace.

  “Shall I pull over, Miss Elizabeth, and get you a coke?”

  A coke wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was a miracle.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Morning brought Elizabeth no closer to a decision, but it did bring Quincy, full of good news for a change. When Elizabeth opened the door, her friend was fairly bouncing up and down with excitement.

  “I did it, girl friend! I did it! Give me five.” She held up a hand as big as a side of bacon and slapped her palm against Elizabeth’s.

  “What did you do?” Elizabeth held her hands out like a traffic cop. “No, don’t tell me standing out here on the porch where all the neighbors can see my nervous breakdown. Come on in the kitchen. Papa’s got coffee ready.”

  “He’ll want to hear this, too.” Papa, who was already at the table with his mug of coffee, nearly jumped out of his skin when Quincy’s big voice boomed, “Great news, Papa.”

  “Wait a minute. Let me take my vitamins first. These days I have to get fortified before I can stand any more news.”

  Quincy’s laughter rattled the chipped plates and cups with missing handles.

  “If this is not the beatin’est family I ever saw. Do y’all want to hear my news or not?”

  Elizabeth wished a vitamin would fortify her. She felt like a piece of cracked china fixing to fly apart if somebody sneezed in her direction.

  “We got Nicky moved,” Quincy said, and Elizabeth didn’t trust herself to speak. “He’s with my daughter this very minute, eating country-fried ham and biscuits big as a washtub and talking a mile a minute.”

  Elizabeth was still speechless, and so was Papa. They both had tears in their eyes as big as baseballs. Only this time they were tears of gratitude.

  Quincy wrapped her arms around Elizabeth, and it was like being in the lee of a rock. Rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee. Why did the old hymns keep playing through her mind?

  Maybe because Mae Mae was always singing them, in times of trouble as well as times of joy.

  “There’s nothing like a good hymn to give voice to the heart,” she used to say.

  I have the joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart. Down in my heart to stay.

  Was it? Was it there to stay or was this merely a brief respite before the storm washed them all out to sea once more?

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” Quincy asked, and Elizabeth nodded. “It means you get to see your baby, never mind what some uppity government folks say ‘about visitation rights. Nobody in Quincy’s family is going to tell. Ununh, no sirree.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Papa grabbed his hat. “Let’s go see our boy.”

  o0o

  The lady who said call me Carol had hugged him too tight and called him sugar pumpkin when he left her house, but Nicky was not sorry to go. Bear, neither. No more peas. No more scary clock monsters in the hall. No more silly stories from call me Carol, who didn’t know about Mae Mae and her garden and her lemonade and silber lining.

  He liked the new house better. The new lady, too. She had chocolate cookies baking when he got there. They smelled just like Papa’s. She was nice, too, and she didn’t call him pumpkin. She said his name.

  Then when that mean lady with the Halloween mouth left, Quincy came! Him and Bear was so glad to see her they ‘bout cried, but Papa said be brave, and so Bear cried but he didn’t. Quincy said he could see Mommy and Papa any time he wanted to. He just couldn’t go home. Not yet.

  He was gonna be real good so he could go home soon. ‘Fore he went to bed he promised God, an’ God said all right, Hal Luya, just like in church. He wished God would
learn his name. Nicky was gonna tell him someday, but Papa said it wasn’t polite to argue.

  The new lady made biscuits nearly as good as Papa’s, an’ Nicky ‘bout busted eatin’ so many. Then she told him Mommy was coming, an’ he said, “Can I watch for her,” and the lady said, “Baby, you stand at that window as long as you want to.”

  He pressed his nose to the glass. Bear’s too. Bear was real ‘cited. Nicky needed to go to the bathroom, but he was scared to leave the window. What if Mommy came and he didn’t see her and she went away and that mean lady with the Halloween mouth came and took him to another house?

  “She’s here,” the new lady said. Her name was Sally.

  Nicky pulled Bear up close and whispered in his ear, “See. I tole you God said yes.”

  His Mommy started crying when she saw him. Nicky felt like crying, too, but he didn’t. He was being real good and real brave so he could go home.

  o0o

  It like to have killed Thomas to see that baby standing there so brave and Elizabeth squeezing him around the middle and crying her eyes out. The awful words on the custody papers got stuck in his mind and wouldn’t get out, no matter how hard Thomas tried to concentrate on the joyful reunion between Nicky and Elizabeth. All of a sudden he felt weak as a kitten and had to sit down without even being invited, which in his book was about the most impolite thing you could do in the house of a perfect stranger.

  Of course, Quincy’s daughter Sally was not exactly a stranger, but still he felt like a lout, and wobbly besides. He reckoned too little sleep and too much worry would do that to a man. Especially a man his age.

  He was fixing to try and strike up another bargain with God. He could feel it coming on. And sitting right there on that couch with the chintz roses that hadn’t faded a speck even though it was in the bright sunshine pouring through those fancy French windows he sent a silent petition winging heavenward.

  “Lord, it’s me again, your old friend, Thomas Jennings. But then I guess you know my name by now. If you don’t you ought to, meanin’ no disrespect.”

  “You see those two over yonder? They mean the world to me, and it would just about kill me to die and leave them torn apart like this. Now, I’m hopin’ and prayin’ that won’t happen. I’m hopin’ and prayin’ You’ll give me a little more time. At least another year, maybe, till all this gets straightened out. I’m not a selfish man, mind you. I’m just askin’, is all. And hopin’.”