The Champagne Sisterhood

by Chris Keniston

  “Not yet, but I think my source in legal is going to come through for us this morning.”

  “Any particular reason you might think that?” Anna accepted a fresh cup of coffee from Kat who quickly perched herself on a nearby chair, listening intently.

  “I heard he and champagne don’t get along very well. So last night I poured enough down his throat to float the Intrepid. Turns out champagne really doesn’t agree with him. This morning he doesn’t remember his own name, never mind if anything happened and he owes me some favors or not.” Liz giggled.

  “Liz,” Anna said with indignation.

  “Hey, eventually I’ll fess up that he was a perfect gentleman, but for now, if it works--”

  “If it works, it’s a start. But I’ll still need to figure out a way to show Junior’s behind it all.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you up to?”

  Liz giggled a little louder. “Just checking out a few options. I’ll warn you if it’ll earn me any jail time.”

  “That’s not funny.” This was already the morning from hell. She didn’t need Liz taking unnecessary risks.

  “Okay, boss. What do I do with Sandy?”

  “Tell her the original orders stand and I’ll fax the instructions directly to her. If she doesn’t ask for more, don’t volunteer. What’s her number?” She scribbled the direct fax number on a nearby napkin. “Thanks. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do, but what problem did Harrison have?”

  “It wasn’t important.”

  Liz waited a beat as if expecting Anna to volunteer more information. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

  “It’s only six o’clock in the morning here. All I sound is sleepy.”

  “If you say so. I’ll give Sandy a heads up.”

  “Great, Liz. Thanks.” She disconnected the call, considered throwing the hunk of plastic across the room, but settled for tossing it on the table.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Kat asked.

  “Isn’t there always?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You sneaky son of a bitch!”

  Mark did the closest thing possible on a narrow couch to rolling over. He didn’t like this dream. Nothing worse than scorned blondes with mouths like truck drivers.

  “Damn you. Wake up!”

  In a chilling rush the blankets were ripped away and he realized this was no dream.

  “How could you?” Anna stood over him, her hands fisted at her waist, her eyes shooting daggers, and for a groggy moment, he thought he saw steam coming from her ears.

  “How could I what?” Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, thankful he’d brought pajamas instead of sleeping in his usual boxers.

  “Who the hell are Howard and Amanda Prescott?”

  His hands froze. Through the tips of his fingers he could see Kat hovering behind Anna, pale as the paper on his drafting board. Shit.

  “Damn it. Answer me! Is it true? Are they Tom’s parents?”

  Resting his hands on either side of him, he took a deep breath, then another. “Yes.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Anna did an about face and marched off. Turning on her heel, she walked back to within inches of where he sat, paused long enough to glower at him, before returning to her pacing. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

  Kat sank into the nearest chair. “What were you thinking?”

  “That I’d face the devil himself before I’d risk those people finding out about Marcia.”

  “You could have told us.” Her fists still tightly clenched beside her, Anna stopped and stared out the back window. With one hand she reached into her pocket and tossed a fistful of pills into her mouth.

  “I considered it. But if you must know, that...” He pointed in her direction with a slight lift of his chin. “Is one reason I didn’t tell you. You have enough to worry about. You didn’t need more on your plate to aggravate those ulcers you don’t have. I thought I could keep them from finding out about Marcia. Ever.”

  “Tom and Barb never told them about the baby. Hell, they never even told his parents they were married. As far as Tom and Barb were concerned, Howard and Amanda were dead, Tom had no parents. I thought it best to keep it that way.”

  He wanted to go to her, touch her, ease the tension he could see building in her stiffened shoulders, pull her into his arms, let her know she could lean on him, but he didn’t dare move.

  “Well they did find out! If I’d known, been prepared...” She blew out a deep breath. With one arm wrapped across her waist, Anna brought her other hand up to her forehead. Two fingers rubbed back and forth, easing her frown. “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

  Mark glanced from one woman to the next. It was amazing. For two women with such different features, they looked like matching bookends. Kat’s deep brown eyes were steady, her gaze sharp enough to pierce stone. Anna’s lips pressed into such a tight thin line, he could almost see the back of her teeth grinding impatiently.

  He should have known with all the publicity he couldn’t keep Marcia’s existence a secret from Tom’s parents. He pushed to his feet. “Let me give Sid a quick call. We need to see him first thing this morning. I’d rather only have to tell this once.”

  “You expect us to wait--” Anna glanced at her watch, “almost two hours to find out what the hell is going on?”

  “You know they’re not dead. What difference will the details make?” Roughly rubbing the back of his neck, he took a step toward Anna, stopping when she bristled and backed up a half step. “Look, Marcia will be up any second and I need to talk to Sid first. We can drop her off at my office on our way to Sid’s. I’ll try and get us in as soon as possible.”

  With alarm clock precision, Marcia let out her first calls of good morning. Mark looked to the ceiling and sighed. “I’d better go get her. One of you please call Sid and clue him in. The sooner we get there, the better.”

  The morning fog sat heavily over the bay. Any traces of the beautiful views of days before were buried under the cotton-like layers of gray.

  “I appreciate your coming in early like this.” Mark took the seat closest to Sid’s desk.

  “You’re damn lucky I didn’t have court this morning or all of this would have had to wait.”

  Anna and Kat nodded their greetings and sat on either side of Mark, their expressions uniformly grim.

  “If you want me to handle this, the first thing we’ll have to do is make me attorney of record on the custody case. This way we won’t have to go through...“

  “Harrison,” Anna supplied.

  “Right. We won’t need Harrison to keep abreast of the situation. Next, expect an appearance in court to set a date for the actual custody hearing. A guardian ad litem will already have been appointed to look after Marcia’s interest. In the meantime, we’ll build our arsenal. We’ll have psychological reports to show Miss Bartiglioni is excellent parent material.”

  Mark stole a glance in Anna’s direction. At Sid’s words, her grip on the armchair tightened visibly. What would it take for her to believe she’d be a great mom?

  “The doctor and nurse who heard Barbara specifically say she wanted Miss Bartiglioni to have custody—”

  “Please, call me Anna.”

  “Okay, Anna. The doctor and nurse will be crucial to our case. The courts will most likely want both potential guardians to undergo evaluation from the same court appointed psychologist. There will be a home study, so you’d better decide fast where this child is going to be living.”

  Anna released her stronghold on the chair and clasped her hands together on her lap. If Mark was any judge of strength, he’d guess she was nearly crushing her own fingers.

  “Basically we’ll have a bevy of witnesses lined up to testify to your good character and why you’d be the better guardian.” Sid leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and looked to Mark. “Now would be a good time to tell me how I�
�m going to convince the courts why a blood relative isn’t the ideal guardian - and it better be good.”

  “Which part do you want first - the religious zealots, or how they almost beat their sons to death?”

  Spines stiffened, eyes widened, and Mark couldn’t miss the way Kat and Anna’s mouths hung open. Only Sid remained apparently unfazed by the declaration.

  “Sons?” Anna asked softly.

  “Tom has a brother?” Kat’s question tumbled over Anna’s.

  Mark squared his shoulders. “Tom had a brother. The key word is had.”

  Sid leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “Do you have proof?”

  “I’d have to check with Mom. She’s a bit of a packrat. There’s always a chance she still has the bills from the hospital.”

  “Were the police called?”

  Regretfully, Mark shook his head. “No. Tom refused to press charges. It was all Mom could do to drag him to the hospital.”

  “How old was he?” Kat asked. “Isn’t suspected child abuse supposed to be reported?”

  “Tom was nineteen. The doctor tried to convince Tom to let him call the police, but Tom wouldn’t budge. He was afraid it would only make things worse for Allen.”

  “Allen?”

  “Tom’s kid brother.”

  Kat’s eyes widened with sudden insight. “The boy with Tom in the photo on the dresser.”

  Mark nodded. “Probably.”

  While Sid scribbled a few notes on a pad of paper, Anna’s thoughts seemed to be lost somewhere on the other side of the picture window. “Amanda and Howard are them. Babs didn’t want them to have Marcia,” she mumbled before turning her attention back to Sid. “How hard is this going to be?”

  “I don’t know yet.” His gaze turned to Mark. “You’d better tell me everything you know. All of it.”

  Mark cleared his throat. “When we were kids his folks were a little strict, especially about church and such, but it wasn’t really a big deal. My mother got along fine with Mrs. Prescott, said she didn’t have to worry about what kind of trouble we’d get into around Tom’s house.

  “Things got a little weird by the time we got to junior high. The Prescotts began to attend this small church on the outskirts of town. The Church of the Lambs of God. Bit by bit things started to change. At first Tom and Allen weren’t allowed to watch certain TV shows, then no TV at all. Soon it was movies. It wasn’t long before Tom wasn’t allowed to go out with friends at all. Eventually they even withdrew from after-school activities. Tom used to be a pretty good basketball player, but his parents didn’t want him mixing with the wrong people. By the time Tom’s junior year rolled around, anyone not in the Lamb’s church were the wrong people.”

  “Even you?” Anna asked.

  “Even me. Mom tried to talk to Amanda. She was always polite and understanding, but in the end it didn’t do any good. I don’t think she dared to go against Tom’s father. I realized how bad it was right after prom. His parents didn’t want him to have anything to do with that heathen practice. The way Tom explained it, they were convinced all that ungodly dancing and devilish music could only lead Tom on a path straight to hell.”

  Sid listened intently, occasionally pausing to write down a few words on his yellow legal pad. “What happened after prom?”

  “Tom missed a couple days of school. His mom said he wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t come to the phone. At first I thought she simply wouldn’t let me talk to Tom because she didn’t approve of the friendship, but after two days I started to get worried.”

  Mark paused, remembering too clearly the feeling of desperation, how he knew something was terribly wrong and feared he wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. Glancing at Anna, he noticed she’d gone back to staring blankly out the oversized window, and forced himself to keep talking.

  “Mom took me over after school, before Mr. Prescott got home from work. She thought we’d have a better chance of reasoning with his mother. Mrs. Prescott wouldn’t let us in, but then Mom heard Tom calling from the sofa. I don’t know if it was maternal instinct or what, but she realized something wasn’t right and shoved right past Mrs. Prescott. She practically shot into the living room.

  “It was awful. His eyes were swollen nearly shut. I could tell at least a couple of his fingers were broken. And the way he wheezed, he probably had a cracked rib or two. Some of the bruises were changing color, and you knew under his clothes there had to be more.

  “I remember every word that woman said: ‘Howard had no choice. It was the devil who made Thomas disobey. He needed to be chased away.’ The woman stood ramrod straight in the middle of the living room and tried to convince us beating the devil out of her son for attending his senior prom was the right thing to do.”

  The pictures he’d buried so many years ago rushed to the surface littering his mind like flotsam after a shipwreck.

  “When Mom started fussing over him, I thought I saw Mrs. Prescott ease up, maybe come to her senses, but then she threatened to call the police if we didn’t leave. Mom dug her heels in and dared the woman to call the cops. Tom pleaded with us to go home, that it wasn’t that bad. He even got up and walked my mom to the door to prove he looked worse than he felt, but I could tell. I think Mom knew too.”

  “Is that when your mom took him to the hospital?” Kat was the only one asking questions. Anna continued to look away, occasionally casting a vacant glance in Mark’s direction.

  “No. That was a year later. During Tom’s freshman year at Berkeley, scandal erupted at the church. The pastor ran off with some deacon’s wife and took all the church money with him. Mr. Prescott went ballistic. Said they had to clean the house of all impurities. Insisted they couldn’t let the devil get a foothold in their household, too. When Tom came home for summer vacation, Mr. Prescott went through all his things. Tom had a couple of condoms in his shaving kit--”

  “Oh, God, no.” One hand flew to Kat’s mouth, the other covered her heart. Anna turned to Mark, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Mom had asked one of the neighbors to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Thank God she called Mom as soon as she heard crashing sounds coming from the house. By the time Mom and Dad got there Tom could barely breathe, never mind move. My father actually slugged Mr. Prescott. I’d never known Dad to hit anyone, but Mom said it was the only way to get Tom out of the house alive. They were afraid to wait for an ambulance. Dad ran every red light racing to the Emergency Room. They had to wire Tom’s jaw. He had bruised kidneys, several cracked and broken ribs and a punctured lung. That’s why he was having such a hard time breathing. He looked like he’d gone several rounds in a dark alley with Mike Tyson.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna heaved a sigh, then opened her eyes again. “Babs knew about this?”

  Mark nodded.

  “And she didn’t put it in writing for anyone else to have custody?”

  “Not that we’re aware of,” Sid offered.

  “Oh, Babs.” Anna pinched the bridge of her nose and heaved another deep sigh before raising her eyes to Mark. “What about Allen?”

  “He was away at summer Bible camp. Tom moved in with us and Dad arranged for him to get more scholarship money so he could stay in school.”

  “I remember you mentioning that.” Kat tilted her head at Mark. “Now that I think about it, your mom did seem a bit upset. This was the nasty business she mentioned at dinner isn’t it?”

  Mark nodded. “Yeah. I was afraid she was going to say too much.”

  Anna didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The frigid glare she shot in his direction told him exactly what she thought of his hiding the truth from her.

  “Mom suggested Allen should come stay with us too, but he was convinced he’d be okay. Allen wasn’t as gregarious as Tom. He didn’t mind staying home reading or tinkering with his gadgets. Tom thought Allen would have a chance to spread his wings once he went off to school. Smart kid. Full ride to Stanford. Tom was so proud of him.”
<
br />   Memories of a dark haired little kid with glasses helping his older brother with his chemistry homework brought a smile to Mark’s face. “Really smart.”

  “So what happened?” Kat asked.

  “Jeannie Phillips.”

  “Huh?” Kat muttered.

  “Some of the kids from school threw him a going away party. A few of the cool kids thought it would be fun if Jeannie gave him a farewell kiss. One to curl his toes.”

  “Mark.” Kat waved a hand, urging him on. “What the hell happened?”

  “She kissed him. Someone snagged the moment on a Polaroid and put the photo in Allen’s pocket without telling him. When his mom cleaned out his jacket the next night, she found the picture. His father went berserk again, yelling he’d beat the devil out of this son too before he’d let him follow a path of sin and degradation. Howard hit him so hard Allen fell backwards across the coffee table and banged his head on the fireplace hearth.

  “He got the wind knocked out of him, but managed to scramble to his feet. I’m not exactly sure how he did it, but when he got to our house he mumbled something about catching Howard off guard and running out the front door.

  “My sister Rachel was the only one home. She called Tom at school, he told Allen to stay put he’d come and get him. Allen insisted he wasn’t hurt that badly, that he could drive to San Francisco. Both those guys were as stubborn as mules stuck in mud. He’d almost reached Oakland when he blacked out, skidded off the road and crashed into a tree. No air bags, no seat belt.”

  “Both brothers lost in car crashes. I wonder what the odds of that are?” Kat said, more to herself than anyone else in the room.

  “That’s the year Tom changed his name. He didn’t want anything to do with the Prescotts. Never wanted to see them again. Didn’t even go to Allen’s funeral.”

  “What we’ve got is mostly hearsay.” Sid put down his pen and addressed Mark. “Your mom, dad and sister Rachel’s accounts of what Tom and his brother told them. We’re going to have to find something more solid than that to prove these two are a threat to Marcia’s safety.”