He didn’t kiss me. I knew he wanted to. I could see it in his eyes, in the way they looked at my mouth. I could also hear it in his breathing, which was less steady than it had been. Mia was back in her carrier, asleep now and totally limp, hanging over his front so that if he was aroused, I couldn’t see.
But he had to leave. I wanted him to leave. Something was happening too fast. I needed time to focus.
I got it, though in an unexpected way. James was no sooner out the door when my cell phone rang. It was Greg’s friend Neil, calling not from Washington but from Anchorage, where he had flown after being granted an emergency recess in his trial. It seems Greg had fallen during the descent of Mount McKinley and smashed his leg. He had already had surgery. Now Neil wanted to help him return home, and fast.
My first sense was sheer envy that Greg had someone who cared enough about him to drop everything he was doing to fly to his aid.
My second was that I wanted to be there when Greg got home. I could help make him comfortable in the condo, could stock the fridge, do some cooking, air the place out after it had been closed up for two and a half weeks.
I told Neil I would be at the condo by noon the next day.
Then I called Tom. “Too late?” I asked.
“Nah,” he said easily. “I’m reading.”
“I was wondering what your thoughts are about Phoebe coming home. There’s an emergency in D.C. I’m flying out early tomorrow. If she’s coming home, I’ll have Sabina take care of her.”
“Have Sabina take care of her,” Tom said. “She’s starting to feel better. Now that we’ve identified the problem as mercury, there’s no need for constant monitoring. The occasional test next week is fine. Is the emergency something to do with this?”
“No. It’s my roommate, Greg. Broken leg. His partner flew out to be with him in Anchorage. I think they’re already flying back.”
“Huh,” Tom said in a tentative way. “When were you thinking of leaving?”
“Here? No later than seven.”
“And coming back?”
“Probably Sunday night.”
There was a pause, then, “Want company?”
“Sure. I’d love it. But can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, but the tempo of his voice had picked up. “I have a friend in the EPA who could answer some questions I have. I’m long overdue for a visit anyway. Let me see if Mrs. Jenkins can come. I’ll call you right back.”
He called five minutes later to say that he would be with me. I called the airline and booked tickets, then called Sabina to let her know.
I didn’t tell her about the notebooks, didn’t want her getting her hopes up. Honestly? I didn’t want her asking to see them. As the last-born child, I had always had to share. These journals were a link to our mother. For now, I wanted them all to myself.
Chapter 25
KAITLIN WAS UP early Saturday morning, showering and putting on clean jeans and a new jersey and clogs from the store. She took care with her hair and applied only as much makeup as her mother liked—but not to please Nicole. She didn’t care what her mother thought. She wasn’t dressing for Nicole. They had barely talked in a week.
Leaning closer to the bathroom mirror, she studied a little raised dot on her chin. It was a zit in the works, no doubt about it. Taking a tube of acne medicine from the medicine chest, she dabbed on just enough to zap the zit without spoiling her makeup. It used to be that her whole face was covered with zits. She loved her dermatologist for helping with that. Actually, she loved him anyway. He was always warm and smiling. He looked at her, not at Nicole. He acted as though she was the important one there, not Nicole. And in follow-up visits, he would tell her how fabulous she looked.
She didn’t necessarily believe him. He told that to all the kids he treated. But it was nice to hear it, anyway.
“You’re up early.”
Kaitlin jumped. The slight movement brought her mother into the mirror’s frame. Nicole was at the bathroom door in her silk robe, shoulder to the jamb, arms crossed. Kaitlin leaned in again to block the view. She pushed her tongue against the spot with the zit. Definitely a zit.
“Where are you going?” Nicole asked.
“The store.”
“Again? What’s with this? You’ve been there every day this week. Wouldn’t you rather be out by the pool than stuck in the back room of Miss Lissy’s Closet with cartons of clothes? Everyone knows that’s where you are, Kaitlin. They’re not putting you out front, are they.” It wasn’t a question.
“Today they are,” Kaitlin said with pride. “Joanne’s been showing me how-to stuff all week. Annie can’t be there today, because she’s going to Washington, and Sabina will be with Phoebe, so I’ll be on the floor.” That was the expression Joanne had used when she called last night. On the floor. It meant actually selling clothes to customers. Kaitlin still couldn’t believe Joanne had asked. Salespeople had to look good in the stores clothes. Wasn’t that a major selling tactic?
“Joanne, Annie, Sabina, Phoebe—on a first-name basis with all of them?”
“Yes,” Kaitlin said. Finished in the bathroom, she headed for her bedroom. That meant slipping past her mother. Fortunately, Nicole stepped aside. Unfortunately, she didn’t go away.
Following Kaitlin to her room, she said, “I’d be careful of aligning myself with those people, if I were you.”
Kaitlin was in the process of reaching to neaten the bed when she stopped and straightened. “Those people?”
“The Barnes women. They’re not in the mainstream in this town. I’m sure you know Sabina was fired.”
Kaitlin stared at her mother. “By your boss, because he’s so afraid of what she knows. I’m sure you know Phoebe has mercury poisoning. What does your boss have to say about that?”
Nicole frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Mercury poisoning. She’s being treated for it, and it’s absolutely pouring out of her body.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Call Dr. Martin. He’s the one who’s treating her. And there’s only one place mercury could come from in Middle River, and that’s the mill. If I were you, I’d be worried about working there. But your boss hasn’t told you that, has he?”
Nicole looked momentarily flummoxed. It was all Kaitlin could do not to smile. And, of course, her mother recovered. Nicole always recovered. “See?” she charged. “That’s the foolishness you’re getting from those Barnes women. Hal Healy is right. They’re a bad influence on this town.”
Kaitlin did smile this time. She couldn’t help it. “Hal Healy is history.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He submitted his resignation yesterday.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m at the store, where Middle River comes and goes, while you’re at the mill hearing only what the Meades want you to hear. Mrs. Embry came by the store yesterday to ask about Phoebe. She’s the vice chairman of the school committee, second only to your boss’s father, so either Sandy is keeping Aidan in the dark, or Aidan knew about it and chose not to tell you. Mr. Healy resigned.”
“Why did he do that?”
“It wasn’t only Mr. Healy. It was Miss Delay, too. Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“Kaitlin.”
“Oh, come on, Mom. Everyone knows they’re fooling around. Like he’s in her office all the time talking about students, only no one believes there are that many students with that many problems, and if it’s only school business, why do they lock the door?”
Nicole was quiet. She looked confused. It was such a rare thing that Kaitlin almost took pity on her—almost, but not quite. The moment was too good to waste. “So, if I were you, I wouldn’t worry about the Barnes women being a bad influence. I’d worry about people like Mr. Healy and Miss Delay, and I’d worry about your boss, because if it’s true that the mill is poisoning people, he’ll get his. You may get yours, too. Want me to tell you the symptoms of merc
ury poisoning?” She raised her voice to follow Nicole, who had turned and was walking down the hall. “Because I know about those, too. It isn’t Alzheimer’s, and it isn’t Parkinson’s. It’s sometimes both, and it isn’t pretty, Mom!”
Since Anton left early for golf or whatever it truly was that he did, Nicole liked her Saturday mornings. Weather permitting, she spent them out by the pool with coffee, strawberries, and the catalogs that had arrived in the mail that week. Last night’s storm had left thick clouds and dense humidity, so the pool would have been a bad idea today, but the sunroom at the back of the house would have been fine. It was air conditioned.
But she didn’t go there either, instead just sat at the kitchen table. She had the coffee, but no strawberries and no magazines. She wasn’t in the mood to eat or to read. She was bothered by what Kaitlin had said—bothered that Kaitlin knew more than she did, but not simply because as the mother, she should be the one to know things first. She was bothered because Kaitlin was right. You’re at the mill hearing only what the Meades want you to hear. It was insulting. It was humiliating.
Aidan knew things he wasn’t telling her, and it had to be deliberate—a concerted effort to hide certain things—a calculated absence of the word mercury in any e-mail she might see—a willful withholding of the news about Hal. There had been phone calls yesterday. She knew there was a board meeting on Monday, but was it anything out of the ordinary?
Aidan had said it was not. He had specifically said that, when she asked. Apparently, he had lied. Apparently, he hadn’t thought she was important enough to know.
So where did that leave her? Was she or was she not his executive assistant? Was she or was she not his right-hand man? Was she or was she not the one who had to know everything, if she had any hope of representing his interests in the best possible way?
Picking up the phone, she dialed his cell number. He didn’t answer, but she knew how that went. He didn’t answer his cell when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.
But she was. She had too much invested in their relationship to let this go. He owed her an explanation or two.
So she called on his home line. Beverly answered, which, had Nicole been a lesser woman, might have been reason to hang up. But she was used to talking with Aidan’s wife. The woman often called the office.
There was a bedlam of children’s voices in the background. Nicole spoke loudly and with authority. “Hi, Bev, it’s Nicole. I’m sorry to be bothering you at home, but I’ve run into a problem with one of the spreadsheets I’m preparing for Monday’s board meeting. Is Aidan around?”
“Are you sure this can’t wait?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
“Yes,” Nicole replied firmly.
“Aidan! It’s your secretary!” The phone hit the table with a clunk. The cacophony of background noise went on and on.
Nicole simmered. Secretary? She was a lot more than Aidan’s secretary. This woman had no idea how much more than Aidan’s secretary she was.
She waited for what seemed an eternity through yet more bratty child sounds, and she knew exactly why it was taking Bev Meade so long to get Aidan. He was hiding somewhere in the house where he wouldn’t have to hear the kids’ noise.
“Yuh,” he finally barked into the phone.
“I need to see you.”
“What spreadsheet?”
“Mine. Everyone here is gone for the day. Can you come over?”
“And this can’t wait the hell until Monday morning?”
“Absolutely not,” Nicole said and slammed down the phone. Then she sat back, fuming, thinking every vile word she could about Aidan Meade until he pulled into her driveway and stormed out of his car—and still she sat. Unshaven and uncombed, he let himself in the kitchen door and slammed it shut.
“What spreadsheet?” he asked, looking at the half of her silk robe that showed.
She ignored the look. “Why didn’t you tell me about Hal Healy resigning?”
His eyes rose to hers. He seemed taken aback. “Why should I? What’s he got to do with the mill?”
“My daughter knew he’d resigned before I did. But more important, what’s the business about mercury?”
“What business?”
“The business about Phoebe Barnes having mercury poisoning.”
Aidan scowled. “She doesn’t have mercury poisoning.”
More lies? Nicole fumed. “Yes, she does. She’s being treated for it at the clinic. I thought the mill didn’t use mercury anymore.”
“It doesn’t. Phoebe Barnes is a bizarre person. She hasn’t been right for months.”
“Exactly, and now they know why. So there I am sitting up in that office at the mill five days a week, forty-nine weeks a year.”
“There’s no problem with the office.”
“Then the plant. I’m up there three, four, five times a week doing your bidding. Do I stand to become a…a…bizarre person, too?”
Aidan made a face. “Geez, Nick. I can’t believe you got me over here for this. You know who started the trouble, and you know why. Annie Barnes was waiting for an excuse. Sabina being fired was it.”
Nicole might have bought into that excuse before. But to do it now went against common sense—not to mention Tom Martin, Sabina Mattain, and everyone else walking in and out of Miss Lissy’s Closet. To do it now said that her daughter, Kaitlin, was as much of a troublemaker as Annie, and somehow, suddenly, Nicole didn’t believe that. Suddenly, Kaitlin seemed perfectly reasonable.
“And if you got this from your daughter,” Aidan was going on, “it’s because she is furious at you because you have failed to hide your lousy marriage from her. By the way, did you ever find out if she knows about us?”
By the way? Like it was an inconsequential aside? Even that annoyed Nicole. “She doesn’t know.”
“Are you sure?”
She rose, went to the sink, and put her mug down none too gently. She turned, her back to the counter. “For God’s sake, Aidan, I couldn’t exactly ask directly, or she would have known something she might have only guessed up until now. Are you sure? Pu-leeze.”
“She knows.”
“She does not. She talked about Hal Healy and Eloise Delay and would have talked about us in the same breath, if she’d known.”
“Good,” Aidan said. “Wouldn’t want the girl ruining a good thing.” His eyes fell to her robe. “Where is she now?”
“Out. Define a good thing.”
He took a step closer. “And Anton?”
“Out. Define us, Aidan.”
Smirking, he came up close and gripped the tie of her robe. “What’s under this?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Nicole said, as much in defiance as anything else. She wasn’t turned on. She didn’t know whether it was the fact that this was Anton’s house, or the fact that Kaitlin had been eating breakfast in this very room not that long before, or the fact that Aidan had just come from his wife and kids, and Nicole had never set out to cheat them. Perhaps it was just the fact that here in her own home, where there was no pretense of work, where Aidan didn’t have the aura of the would-be heir to gild him, he wasn’t as attractive to her. “I need you to tell me this, Aidan.”
“Tell you what?” he said, distracted as he untied the robe.
“What we are. You just called us a good thing. What does that mean?”
He opened the robe. “Quick. Easy. Sex.” His eyes were on her along with his hands, and she let him do it. She let him fondle her breasts, bury his mouth against her neck, put a hand between her legs. She even moved against that hand, moved against his crotch, until he began to breathe in that half-gone way he had, “Ooooooh, baby. Ooooooh, that’s good.”
“Is it, Aidan?” she whispered breathlessly, pressing her hips forward.
“Oh yeah, it’s good. It’s always good.”
“Is it good and hard?”
He grabbed her hand and showed her just how hard it was, and that made it easy for her to squeeze, to squeeze tightly and t
wist, then shove him away.
“Bitch!” he cried hoarsely, doubling over.
She pulled her robe together and straightened. “A good thing, Aidan? Is that what I am, a thing?”
“Bitch,” he repeated, adding several other pithy epithets under his breath. He raised threatening eyes, but before he could say a word, she spoke.
“Don’t even think it, Aidan,” she warned. She was the brains behind their duo. It was about time he realized that. “You fire me, and I’ll say it’s in retaliation for my rebuffing your sexual advances. I’ll say that what you just did was attempted rape.”
“It wasn’t any freaking rape,” he snapped, still trying to catch his breath, now with both hands on his knees.
“Okay, then,” she said calmly. “Let’s call it consensual sex that’s been going on for three years, and how will your wife take to that, Aidan? How will Daddy take to it?”
“You can’t prove a thing.”
“But I can. I have hotel receipts, plus the names of clerks everywhere we went. We were a handsome couple. They’ll remember us.”
“You go public about us, and Anton will divorce you.”
“Well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Nicole said. She was thinking about Kaitlin, who was no longer fooled. And she was thinking about herself. Aidan was right. What they had was quick, easy sex. Having Aidan gave Nicole a good excuse to stay with Anton. So she was beholden to two men, neither of whom she personally cared for. Didn’t she deserve more? Wasn’t she worth more? There had to be someone who would see that, someone who would worship the ground she walked on.
“This relationship is taking its toll,” she said with both men in mind. “Maybe it’s time we call it quits.”
Chapter 26
I WAS UP late Friday night reading Mom’s journals, then up again at dawn to pack, which meant that two nights in a row I hadn’t gotten much sleep. That might have explained my heightened emotionalism, though I suspect that between James’s declarations and those of my Mom, there was good enough reason for it.
I was ready when Tom came by to pick me up for the drive to the airport in Manchester, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. He seemed to know that without my having to say it, which in turn made me wonder why I couldn’t fall in love with this man. He was good, decent, and compassionate. He was attractive and intelligent. He was a success at what he did, and he wasn’t enamored of my success. Admiring, yes. But at no point did I feel that he was playing up to me because I had a big name and a solid stock portfolio.
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