Phantom of Riverside Park

by Peggy Webb

  “I’ll go tell David the good news,” Peter said.

  “Can I?” After all, she needed to thank him, too. If it weren’t for David, none of this would be happening.

  “Of course, I forgot. Naturally he’ll want to hear the news from his wife.”

  All of a sudden it struck Elizabeth that she really was a wife, in the legal sense anyway, and that all the good things that had happened in the last few days had happened because of David, this fearsome-looking, demon-ridden, reclusive man who was now her husband. She felt like a creature who had grown a new skin and a new, more brilliant set of feathers. Like one of the large birds she’d seen in the Memphis zoo, she’d molted, and now she stood outside David’s office door watching her old self drift away.

  The woman who was going to enter his domain was not the same depressed, anxiety-ridden woman who had seen him earlier that day. This Elizabeth had her son back. And nobody was ever going to take him away again. Even if she lost her court case. Even if she had to run away to Mexico to protect him.

  This Elizabeth also had a brand new life. Maybe it wasn’t the one she’d dreamed about nor planned on, but it was certainly better than the one she’d had. And she fully intended to make the best of it.

  She tapped lightly on David’s door, and he said, “Come in.”

  She went straight to her husband and put her arms around him the way she would any good friend or even any stranger who had done her a great kindness. Never mind that he got stiff as a wooden Indian and tried to shrink through the back of his chair.

  Elizabeth ignored all that. “Don’t put on airs,” Mae Mae had told her. Papa had put it another way, “Always be yourself.”

  Whether David liked it or not, the self she was, was affectionate. And she’d be darned if she’d treat him any differently just because of the way he looked, or the way he thought things ought to be.

  “Nicky’s coming home,” she told him, and David said, “That’s wonderful,” even while he was still stiff as a poker about her hug. She held on anyway because it just naturally took some people longer to loosen up than others. And because it felt good. He was a broad-shouldered, solidly muscled man, exactly right for hugging.

  “Yes, it is, and it’s all because of you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come back, David. You rescued me. You rescued us all.”

  “I’m happy I could do it.”

  She had no doubt that he meant every word he said, but the way he was acting you’d think happiness was pure torture. Then, the truth hit her: David was scared. He’d been a virtual prisoner for years, and knew nothing of warm hugs and soft kisses and sweet shared secrets.

  Elizabeth could have cried for him. So many years wasted. So many dreams lost. If I can do only one thing to repay this haunted, tender-hearted man, it will be to unbind him and set him free.

  Could love do that? She believed with all her heart that it could. She would love him with all her might, love him as a dear and tender friend, love him for his goodness, his kindness, his generosity, his humor. And perhaps in time he would let go his hurt. In time, he might even learn to hug her back.

  She gave him one last, tight squeeze then sat down in the wing chair Peter always used. David looked like a little boy who had misplaced his bus ticket home.

  “They say I can pick up Nicky this afternoon at five, after all the paper work is done. Papa will be so excited.”

  “How is he doing?”

  “Great. You’re going to like him. I can’t wait for you to meet him...and Nicky.” The truth finally sank in, and almost overwhelmed Elizabeth. She covered her mouth to keep from crying out. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to get him back.”

  David brought her a tissue, then hovered over her still holding the box. Sometimes when a big man doesn’t know what to do with himself he looks ridiculous, like a pro-basketball player trying to fit in at a little girl’s tea party. But David didn’t. He merely looked as if he needed rescuing, and so she did.

  Elizabeth wadded her tissue into her lap, then reached for his hand.

  “We’ll have a celebration dinner this evening. There’s no telling what all Papa will cook.” She laughed just thinking about it. In fact, he was probably at home right now cooking even though she’d told him to rest and try not to get too excited thinking about what was going on at the Lassiter Building.

  “I’d like you to come,” she said.

  He glanced down at their joined hands, then gently disengaged himself and retreated behind his desk. Now Elizabeth understood why the desk was as big as a battleship. It was not only his fortress, but his means of navigating back to a port of safety.

  “I can’t do that, Elizabeth... but thank you for the invitation.”

  “You’re not going to meet my family, are you, David?”

  “No... It’s best this way.”

  Her disappointment was sharp. The thing that surprised her was that she was feeling more disappointed for herself than for anybody else. Oh, she hadn’t had any grandiose ideas about moving into David’s house on the farm, but she had indulged in a small fantasy or two. She’d imagined early morning breakfasts together, maybe even before Papa and Nicky got up, just the two them, Elizabeth in a nice pink robe she’d spotted online and would order with her new credit card, and David in blue jeans and a rumpled tee shirt. Maybe one he’d worn to bed.

  What did he wear to bed? That could tell you a lot about a person, whether they were as buttoned up at night as they were in the daytime, for instance. Or if they cast off every stitch and slept buck naked so that in the dark they were a whole other human being, somebody unexpected and wild and thrilling.

  She felt herself blushing, and David, always full of quick concern said, “Are you all right?” and she told him an outright lie. “Certainly.” She wondered if she were going to turn into that kind of person, the kind of person given to spur-or-the-moment invention.

  “Good, then.” He made a careful steeple of his fingers. She’d read about people who did that, but she’d never seen it. It was a sign of a buttoned-up, closed-tight man. “Let me know when you’re ready to move,” he said, and a gleeful little girl inside her jumped up and down, and a big balloon over her head said goody, like a cartoon.

  “I’ll send Peter over to supervise the movers then escort you down.”

  Her balloon burst with a pop that was almost audible.

  “Fine.” She sounded like an ungrateful wretch. “Thank you, David,” she added, and then because she had the tenacity of one of those ivy roots she’d seen choking whole trees, she said, “When will you be coming down?”

  Or maybe she said it simply because she was a woman.

  o0o

  When will you be coming down? she asked, and his gut reaction was never. At least not while she was there. But how could he say that to Elizabeth without hurting her? How could he say that without softening the sharp edges with an explanation that would reveal his innermost soul?

  His reasons were complex and multiple, but one stood out above all the rest: she had the power to hurt him. He knew she wouldn’t do it deliberately. Elizabeth Jennings was not that kind of woman. She was a sweet woman, kind and gentle to the bone. And when she moved into the farm, the old house would stand straighter and taller, the rooms would be warmer, the verandahs sunnier.

  It wasn’t her arrival that would hurt, but her leave taking.

  All of a sudden, David realized he’d made a Devil’s bargain, and in the end he would lose his soul.

  “I going to be very busy here catching up after my long absence,” he told her. “To answer your question...I really don’t know.”

  She worried her bottom lip, but she didn’t protest, and David thanked God for small favors.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t move just yet. Maybe I should stay here in case my lawyer needs me.”

  “The farm is a great place for a child. You and Nicky need to be there.” It was a gentle reminder that the move was one of the reasons they had
married.

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s right. I almost forgot.” She pushed her hair away from her flushed face. “There’s so much to think about now. What’s going to happen next?”

  “There will be a lot of legal maneuvering, lots of motions filed, none of which will require your presence in Memphis.” She still didn’t look convinced. “I’ll send Peter to fetch you if you need to be here.”

  “Peter?”

  “Yes. Or you can come up with McKenzie.”

  “I like your sister, David. I look forward to getting to know her. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

  Suddenly his marriage took on a life of its own, sending out silken threads in all directions, wrapping its tender tentacles around every member of his family as well as hers. Soon it would be pulling in complete strangers off the street, forcing champagne glasses into their hands and shouting, look at me. I am the legal union of Elizabeth and David Lassiter. Till death do us part.

  David had made that pledge, never dreaming how it might become real, never imagining how much he would yearn for it to become real.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The new lady Sally said, “You’re going home, honey lamb, I’m gonna miss you, precious baby,” and she hugged him and he liked her lots ‘cause she was nice and sometimes she smelled like lemons. When he asked her, “How come?” she said, “Because I use lemon paste wax.” She polished a lot, and if Nicky bent real close he could see himself in the furniture. That was fun, but he’d ‘ruther go home.

  “When’s my mommy comin’?”

  “She’ll be here before you can Jack Robinson, honey lamb.“

  He said, “Jack Robinson, honey lamb,” and she laughed and cried at the same time. Then he saw the car, and the nice lady let him run onto the sidewalk, and when Mommy saw him she said, “Nicky,” and picked him and squeezed him and squeezed him. She was cryin’. Papa was cryin’, too, and when Nicky said, “How come,” Papa said, “Bug in my eye.”

  Nicky was glad he was goin’ home. He was gonna chase all them bugs away.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was the kind of golden glorious day Mississippi is famous for, still warm enough to sit in the sunshine in shirtsleeves but not so hot, sweat rolled over you in rivers and made your clothes stick to you. A perfect day for new beginnings. Like a benediction.

  McKenzie was in the farmhouse kitchen watching their lifelong housekeeper make cookies and trying to prepare her for the change.

  “I haven’t met the grandfather and the little boy yet, but Elizabeth is delightful.”

  “It’s been too long since we’ve had a child in this house.” Puffs of flour rose from the dough she was pounding as Lora Bea talked. “Lordy, it’s going to be good to see a little boy running around here again.”

  “Yes, it will,” McKenzie said, and she meant it. She loved children and used to think she’d have a houseful of her own. That hadn’t worked out, and now she was too old. Not quite, but practically. Even if she started this very minute--which wasn’t likely considering there was nobody who could hold a candle to Paul and nobody was likely to ever come close--she still could never hope for more than one or two, at the most. Unless she had twins.

  “Where are you going to put them?”

  Lora Bea’s question jerked McKenzie back to the task at hand: getting ready for Elizabeth and her family. David had told her to put them as far away from him as possible, naturally. And though he hadn’t said it in exactly those words, McKenzie was smart enough to read between the lines.

  He was scared to death. He’d swung his prison doors open a bit, but he was terrified of stepping out into the real world.

  “Oh, I thought I’d put Nicky and his papa in the east wing on the second floor. It’s got a great view and I thought Mr. Jennings and the little boy would enjoy looking out their windows and seeing the animals. Elizabeth, of course, will be sharing the suite with David.”

  He would have a conniption fit when he found out, but by then it would be too late. The suite in the east wing on the third floor was meant for the master of the house, and that’s what David was, whether he wanted to admit it or not. The spacious and sunny bedroom next to David’s hadn’t even needed redecorating, which was a darned good thing considering the short notice McKenzie had to get it ready. But more importantly, it had a connecting door.

  “What’s she like, this woman David married?”

  “She’s very beautiful, but not stuck on herself. In fact, I doubt she has any idea how lovely she is. She’s intelligent and sweet, but spunky, too.”

  “Good. That’s just what David needs. Somebody with backbone. He’s stubborn as that old jackass you keep in the barn.”

  McKenzie laughed. Elizabeth had backbone, and enough fire in her belly, McKenzie hoped, to swing open that connecting door.

  o0o

  Here they were, headed back to Mississippi in a brand new red Jeep Grand Cherokee--courtesy of David--going back in style, even though they hadn’t done a thing to accomplish this miracle except land in trouble. It seemed to Elizabeth that trouble had followed her around all her life, and she couldn’t help but glance in the rear-view mirror to see if it was trailing along behind her, hiding around a curve on highway 78 just waiting to pop out and yell gotcha at the moment she least expected it.

  Elizabeth wasn’t going to dwell on that, though. She preferred to think she was leaving her troubles behind. Papa was grinning from ear to ear, dressed in overalls he hadn’t worn in five years. She couldn’t remember seeing him so happy.

  And Nicky was practically bursting at the seams, bouncing up and down in his car seat, asking questions a mile a minute.

  “How many cows they got, Papa?”

  “Peter said a whole herd.”

  “How many’s a herd.”

  “Could be fifty. Maybe more.”

  “Fifty pigs, too?”

  “No, just a few, but they’ve got ‘em, they’ve got pigs.”

  “And horses?”

  “So they say. And goats and geese and chickens and a donkey. Not to mention the cats and dogs. Why, I hear they’ve even got a peacock.”

  “Wow! I like my new home.” Nicky was already calling the farm home, in spite of the fact that Elizabeth had explained how they would be staying only a little while.

  As she followed Peter’s car down that shining ribbon of road to the farm in New Albany, Elizabeth wondered how she would ever tell her son after the case was over that the farm wasn’t his home after all. That it was only a temporary resting place. That they had to be moving on.

  Elizabeth was so tired of upheaval in her life, she didn’t know what to do. She wished just once she could wake up in the morning and say hello bedroom, hello kitchen, hello trees and grass and flowers and know for certain that it was all hers, that nobody could take it away, that she would wake up in exactly the same bed, in exactly the same house and look at exactly the same trees for the next two hundred years.

  She craved sameness the way an addict craves a fix.

  Up ahead Peter put on his blinker. “We’re here,” she said, and Nicky let out a shout, but Papa was strangely silent.

  The farm opened up before them, a greening place, and Elizabeth thought of the biblical phrase “splendor in the grass” and how the writer must have been a farmer, for who else could look at trees and grass backed by a patch of blue sky and call it splendid.

  It wasn’t the same patch of earth Papa had called home, and yet the land reached out to embrace them the way a farm will, and Elizabeth had the sense of coming home. One glance at Papa told her that he was feeling the same thing.

  The cattle stood in placid groups chewing their cud and a curious colt left his mother’s side and gamboled up to the split-rail fence to watch them pass by. As the land unfolded, she glanced over and saw her Papa’s lips moving.

  “Well, God, I reckon you showed me who’s the boss. Forgive me for doubting, and thank You for loving me anyhow. Amen.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “Lola Ma
e would have loved this place.”

  “I know, Papa.”

  He would love it, too. That was the main thing. Finally she was able to give back the farm he’d lost. If only for a little while.

  The road curved for nearly a mile. And then she saw the house. Actually it was a mansion. Not one of those austere places that looked as if nobody would be allowed to speak above a whisper inside its walls, but a welcoming place with ferns hanging on the verandah and quilts thrown over the backs of rocking chairs and plenty of tall windows to let in the sun.

  McKenzie came down the wide steps to meet them. Elizabeth could tell she was a little nervous at first because she was chattering on about who would sleep where and sliding her eyes over at Peter as if she expected him to give her some sort of invisible guidance. She was trying too hard. It was often the way of women bent of getting somebody to like them, and Elizabeth felt an instant kinship. Here was a woman who wanted to be her friend. A part of Elizabeth that had been staggering for too long, breathed a deep sigh. She didn’t have to stagger all by herself in this new place. Here was a woman who would catch her if she fell.

  Papa said, “If you wouldn’t mind, I sure would like to see the barn before I see the house.”

  “Can I go, too, Mommy? Can I see the donkey?”

  McKenzie’s smile was one of pure relief. “At last, two men after my own heart. Of course we can see the barn first, Mr. Jennings.”

  “Call me Papa,” he said, though he knew full well about the terms of the marriage. Elizabeth wondered if he had forgotten, which wouldn’t surprise her at his age and after all he’d been through, or if he were being cagey.

  Elizabeth thought McKenzie would be embarrassed because she most certainly knew about the terms of the marriage, too, but she acted as if she were tickled pink.

  “Great. A person can’t have too many good Papas.” She knelt beside Nicky, smiling. “And you must be Nicky. I’m McKenzie.”

  “Is that a boy name?”

  “I dunno. Could be. But I’m a girl. Do you want to hold my hand?”