Crossing the Line

by Kay Lyons

  Yes, she was pregnant. But pregnancy was a process, one that took months and would require her to do no more than eat and rest properly. Women worked right up until their delivery these days and with her father promising to spend as much time as he could helping her finish the interior of the mill house, she had seven months to get things done. The question was whether to time the opening before or after she delivered?

  In seven short months.

  “Ms. Brookes? You have a phone call. It’s Rosetta Tulane. I don’t know what’s going on, but I could hear someone screaming in the background.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat. Luke’s grandmother? Oh, no. Had Luke told them? “Ah, thank you, Michelle.” She took the portable phone and held it to her ear, walking away from the hostess’s podium so as to not be overheard. Thankfully the hallway leading to the meeting rooms was clear. “Hello? Rosetta?”

  “Hello, dear. Can you hear me?”

  Shelby pressed her finger to her ear. Someone was indeed screaming. “Yes, I can. What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry for bothering you at work but it’s an emergency. You need to come right away.”

  “Come where?” Wait a minute. She recognized that screech. “Is that my mother?”

  “Yes, dear. We’re at Mason Cemetery, attending the burial of Zacharias Bennington.”

  The burial? Oh, Lord, no. Please, no!

  “Your mother is here and she’s quite upset.” Rosetta’s voice dropped. “Shelby, you need to come quickly.”

  She didn’t want to. She hadn’t talked to her mother since her big confession and she didn’t want to talk to her now. “I—”

  “She threw herself on top of the casket—”

  “What?” Shelby pressed a hand to her mouth when her stomach threatened to heave.

  “—and had to be removed. She keeps babbling something about…Well, I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

  Rosetta knew. Shelby could tell by the tone of the older woman’s voice. Alex’s grandmother knew all about her mother’s affair with a married man, how Shelby was the unfortunate by-product. All because the Drama Queen had made a spectacle of herself—again. “I’ll be right there.”

  It was a busy day and Mr. Long wasn’t pleased that she had to leave due to a family emergency, but he handled the news with frowning concern and told her to drive safe. She was going to have to give the man more credit. In the right moments, he appeared quite nice, nearly human, and less like the guy on Hell’s Kitchen.

  It took her twenty-two minutes to get to the cemetery, and during every one of them she pictured her mother telling Zacharias’s mourners every lurid detail of their secret affair. Finally Shelby topped the rise where the road leveled off and slowed to a stop. The funeral was obviously over but, from appearances, the attendees had lingered to see the encore. All of the guests stared at her mother, who’d apparently thrown herself full tilt into mourning her former lover by dressing in widow’s black and…a veiled hat? Where on earth had she gotten that?

  “This can’t be happening.” It was like a scene out of a movie where the best friend/mistress showed up with her face veiled so the wife couldn’t recognize her. The only problem was that her mother had lifted the veil and draped it so that it flapped in the breeze, and at this moment she was holding court beside the casket surrounded by Luke and Alexandra’s parents, the matriarch of the Tulane family, Rosetta, and quite a few of the country club’s patrons. “Oh, crap. Oh, crap, oh, crap, oh, crap.”

  All her life Shelby had fought to keep her chin up, to ignore the talk and speculation about her parents and their on-again, off-again marriage, to rise above the drama her mother so loved and to create the persona of a professional, normal person.

  But in a matter of minutes her mother had ruined everything.

  Shelby got out of the car, her entire body on fire as humiliation and degradation coursed through her veins. This was what her father meant when he said he’d had to separate himself from her mother. The time had come. As soon as she got her mother away from the casket, she’d have to keep her distance—or go to prison for strangling her.

  Prison just might be worth it.

  Maybe you could run the kitchen.

  Every eye was on Shelby as she made her way to the burial plot. She’d removed her crested uniform jacket on her way to the car due to the heat, but her lavender-colored blouse and white linen pants stuck to her skin and the hives that had almost gone away returned with a vengeance. She felt them but she kept going, one foot in front of the other instead of what she really wanted to do, which was turn tail and run the other way. How could her mother do this? Hadn’t she done enough to embarrass them?

  Her mother was sitting dead center in the front row, and Shelby tried hard to think of the positives. First, there truly weren’t that many mourners at the burial. Apparently, her biological father didn’t have many friends or else he’d outlived them. Second, her mother was no longer atop the casket. And third and best of all, the casket was closed.

  She couldn’t imagine viewing her biological father’s face for the very first time since finding out he actually was her father at a moment like this.

  “What are you doing?” she growled as she stopped just shy of stepping on her mother’s feet. Stilettos. What woman wore four-inch, open-toed stilettos to a funeral?

  “Shelby! Oh, baby, I’m so glad you decided to come. I know he treated you wrong, but turn around, honey, and at least say goodbye to your fath—”

  “Will you please, for once in your life, shut up and not make a scene?” Shelby forced herself to glance at the people around them, unable to make direct eye contact until her gaze met that of Rosetta Tulane’s. Shelby faltered, wondering why she hadn’t realized before that Luke inherited his eyes from his grandmother. “I am so sorry.”

  Rosetta tilted her head to the side, her expression one of sympathy and love. Compassion. In an instant Shelby saw Luke, because Rosetta wore the same expression as Luke after she’d taken the test.

  Shelby blinked and tore her attention away from Rosetta, well able to imagine what Luke’s family thought of the spectacle, and addressed the portly minister holding his Bible in front of his belly and frowning at them with hell and brimstone disapproval. “Please forgive the intrusion. As you can see my mother is…not right.”

  “I’m right as rain, Shelby Lynn. Why, you make it sound like I’m—”

  “Mother, let’s go.” Shelby bent and tried to pull her mother from the seat.

  “Shelby, dear, why don’t you and Pat come with us?” Rosetta placed her hand on Shelby’s shoulder. “You’re both upset. Let us drive you home.”

  “I’m fine.” She could only imagine how she looked. Her blouse covered her arms, but bright red splotches the size of quarters now covered the tops of her hands. She felt them on her neck, her scalp, didn’t doubt they were beginning to form on her face, which only happened under the most extreme of stressful circumstances for which this apparently qualified. Bennington’s Spotted Illegitimate Daughter. There was a caption and photo for the newspaper. “I just want to go. Mother, get up.”

  “You’re angry with me again.” Big tears flooded her mother’s eyes and trickled past her fake eyelashes. “I can’t ever do anything right with you.”

  Shelby managed to keep from rolling her eyes, somehow. Here we go again. “We’ll talk about this in the car.”

  Her mother didn’t move. “I’m sorry, Shelby. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have but I knew you’d be hurt and upset and you are, because that man—”

  “Isn’t able to defend himself. Can we please discuss this in private?”

  “I tried but you won’t return my calls. I had to do something to set the record straight.”

  “Shelby, perhaps—”

  Shelby held up her hand when Marilyn Tulane spoke. “Thank you, but I’m fine. We’re fine, aren’t we, Mom?” She bent closer to her mother in the hopes her voice wouldn’t carry. “Do you
have any shame whatsoever? Get. Up.” She grasped her mother’s other arm and pulled, trying to find purchase even though her heels kept sinking into the grass. Seeing what she was doing, Luke’s father, Alan, stepped forward and together they managed to get her mother to her feet. Without a word, they headed toward the parking area. Rosetta and Marilyn followed behind them.

  And so did the whispers. The snickers. The stares and the shaking of heads. Her entire childhood repeated itself in an instant. Teachers at school, classmates and their parents. PTA meetings, the Grand March at prom. Scene after scene.

  Shelby did her best to ignore them all but she was aware of every word being said. With Alan’s help, she shoved her mother into the passenger side of her Beemer and managed a strangled thanks to the Tulanes. Rosetta tried to stop her once more, but Shelby put her head down and marched around the car to the driver’s side. She had to get out of here before she committed a crime with witnesses around who’d testify against her later.

  She started the engine and pulled away with a jerk of the wheel, acutely aware of her mother lifting her hand to those watching and executing a textbook-perfect pageant wave.

  Chapter 9

  DID YOU GET what you wanted?” Shelby demanded quietly on the way down the mountain toward Beauty. The scenery would have been breathtaking if she’d had any attention to spare it. The slightest touches of orange, yellow and red could be seen in the trees, but distracted as she was by her mother’s abominable behavior, it took everything in Shelby to keep the car under control on the curvy road.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “That was a man’s funeral.”

  “That was your father’s funeral and I had to have my say.”

  “You made it a sideshow.” Shelby squirmed in the seat, attempting to scratch the itch on her back. When that only created more itches, she glanced over at her mother. Her stomach coiled like a snake ready to strike. Please don’t throw up now. The last thing she needed was more drama if her mother found out about the pregnancy. “Take off that stupid hat. You look ridiculous.”

  “It’s designer and it’s beautiful.”

  Only a drama queen. Of all the mothers in the world, why did she have to be hers? I won’t do that to you, kid. I promise. Grandma, on the other hand… “Why, Mom? Why did you do it? You don’t think you caused enough pain this week? You had to cause more? Rosetta said you threw yourself on top of the casket.”

  “I was angry. It just…hit me. All these wasted years.”

  “There wouldn’t have been any wasted years if you had stopped acting like a child and taken responsibility for your life.”

  Her mother sniffled. “That’s easy for people to say, but they haven’t walked in my shoes.”

  No one could.

  “Shelby, don’t you see? I had to have my say. I had to see for myself that he was gone.”

  “Dead usually means dead.”

  “I also wanted to give those stuffed shirts a piece of my mind. It’s their fault he was so uptight about our affair.”

  “He was a married man. Those people had nothing to do with him being embarrassed over what happened. Anyone would be. It’s called morals.” That, and the fact he was probably embarrassed by her mother’s antics. If she was embarrassed by her mother, a straitlaced, married banker would most certainly be embarrassed given all he had to lose. And with her mother’s flight-of-fancy mood swings, he’d probably realized pretty quickly that anything was possible.

  “But they’re the reason he wouldn’t divorce his wife. He said it would look bad on him and on me.”

  She didn’t want to think about the man who’d refused to acknowledge her, but her mother’s comment made her believe that Zacharias had tried to spare Pat’s feelings by blaming the situation, not her flamboyant personality. “And it would have. Don’t you remember the part about in sickness and in health? You’ve said it enough times you should have it memorized by now even if you’ve never kept your vows.”

  Pat shook her head stubbornly, her earrings clinking together. “But if they’d supported him and left him alone, he could have acknowledged you. That’s the important thing. You would’ve been able to grow up as a Bennington, gotten to know him.”

  “Why would I want to know a man who was ashamed of my existence?”

  “I know you don’t understand my behavior but…he could be kind. Zacharias was deathly afraid of scandal, and he said his father would have him removed from the bank if anyone ever found out.”

  Shelby glanced across the interior of the car, knowing there had to be still more to the sad, pathetic story she told. But did she really want to know?

  Curiosity killed the cat.

  She jerked her attention back to driving and slowed as she approached a curve. Her mother’s words repeated in her head, bringing more questions. “Dad said you wanted him to take money from Zacharias. Is that what you did?” A thought struck and she moaned softly. “Is that how you bought the salon?” Shelby glanced at her again, and released her breath in a huff when she saw the truth on her mother’s face.

  “Shelby…now, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  Shelby gripped the wheel tighter. Oh, but it was, wasn’t it?

  “Jerry got upset about it, too, but like I told him, I had to be able to support you. I’m glad I took that money. After Jerry walked out, things were tight and—”

  “You sponged money off him.” Her tires squealed as she entered the S-shaped curve. “You were mad that he wouldn’t acknowledge me or you, so you made him buy your silence. Dad blamed Zacharias, but what he was really doing was protecting you because of what you did. You extorted money from the man.”

  “I did no such thing. I accepted money from him, yes, but it was to help you. You were best friends with Alexandra Tulane, of all people. Zack might not have acknowledged you, but do you think he wanted his daughter to not have the things Alex had? How do you think I bought those pageant dresses?”

  Her ears popped as they descended and the ground began to level out. Beauty was ahead. None too soon, either. She’d despised her mother forcing her into those pageants for everyone to ogle and talk about her. Had her mother hoped someone would figure it out? Wonder where the money came from for the gowns and the lessons?

  “It was the same as child support.”

  Child support? “Dad paid child support when you split up. I remember seeing the checks. Did you give his money back?”

  “Shelby Lynn, don’t give me sass over things you do not understand. Since Zacharias wouldn’t acknowledge you, Jerry made sure no one thought you weren’t his.”

  Jerry Brookes had been her father in every way that mattered most. But he was a working man, one who could have used the money he’d sent her mother. Shelby shook her head, simply unable to comprehend her mother’s gall. How greedy. How utterly, utterly greedy! “So you asked both of them for money and they gave it to you?”

  “Jerry knew people would talk if he didn’t. He wasn’t going to be a deadbeat dad.”

  “He wasn’t, my biological father was.” Shelby squeezed the wheel. “Dad said the first time you went to Zacharias was because I was sick but afterward you went back for more. What did he say when you kept coming back?”

  Her mother fussed with the beads and sequins on her black silk purse. “Shelby…he’d told me he loved me. He made me promises and we had a baby together. That should’ve counted for something. That man was taking care of his wife and had her in a home treating her like a queen when she didn’t know him from Adam, but I had given him a daughter. It was up to him to take care of us, too.”

  “And now that he’s dead, you’re shouting it from the rooftops because he’s not around to give you any hush money and—” she laughed, the sound dark “—probably didn’t mention you in the will. I’ve already received my inheritance from him, roundabout though it came, but you…Nice, Mom. That’s it, isn’t it? Even though he bought you the salon, you want more. And since it’s doubtful you’
ll get it, you went out and ruined his name.”

  You could have avoided all this if you’d gone to California with Luke.

  Shelby rubbed her aching head. Running away wouldn’t have solved anything, and if Rosetta had called her cell phone and discovered she was in California even more questions would have been raised. It would have been the icing on top of the lopsided and burned cake.

  “First you were mad because I kept the secret, now you’re mad because I felt passionate enough to be honest and tell people how he treated us?”

  “You’ve humiliated us—me and Dad and yourself, not to mention Zacharias Bennington. At least it was private before, but now? What happened, Mom? Couldn’t you find enough entertainment on your soap operas?”

  Her mother turned sideways in the seat. “Shame on you for not appreciating the pain and upset I went through to give you a good life. Jerry left me because he couldn’t stand the fact that your father wanted to help us.”

  “You might have put a pretty spin on it, Mom, but you virtually blackmailed the man. Had Dad gone along with it, it would’ve made him an accomplice.” Shelby pressed her foot harder on the gas as they passed the Welcome To Beauty sign. “I would’ve respected you more if you’d have taken up for the man you loved and screwed over, rather than the one you cheated with.”

  She turned down the street with a jerk of the wheel, her mother’s house up ahead on the right. She used to ride her bike down the street, used to climb the neighborhood trees, used to believe the things her mother told her. “Now that Zacharias is dead you’re scared, aren’t you?”

  Her mind was full of memories, anger. Fear. Did her paternity change things? Who she was? “Not only is your sugar daddy gone, but the man who really loved you and gave you chance after chance that you blew is gone, too. Which leaves me—the daughter no longer talking to you until someone has to call me to come get you. You are unbelievable.”

  “Why? Because I wanted people to know how horribly he treated you? Now when they read his will and you’re not in it, they’ll know what kind of man he really was for denying his only child.”