“I brought you something,” he said. He pointed at a vase filled with full-bodied red roses. “Some are for you and some are for Abby. . .” He hesitated, then smiled slightly as he said, “And some are for Madeline.”
“Madeline?”
“A special lady,” he said cryptically.
“Mommy.” The little voice from the bed sounded sleepy but otherwise perfectly normal. “I’m hungry.”
Bethany got up and smoothed her daughter’s hair off her forehead. “Good, sweetheart. It’s almost dinnertime. Look who came to visit while you were asleep.”
The little girl studied her father seriously and then gave a tentative smile. “Hi.”
“You look like you’re feeling much better today.” Justin sat down on the bed and casually took his daughter’s hand. “I’m glad to see you.”
Abby looked at the big hand holding hers, and then at the man sitting casually on her bed. Bethany was afraid the little girl would reject this latest gesture of affection. Instead she smiled more broadly. “You carried me here last night. I remember. And the doctor made me better.”
“That’s right.” Justin patted her hand, then released it. “And from now on you’re going to be fine.”
“If I’m fine will you still come and see me?”
“I’ll come and see you no matter what.”
Bethany stood and stretched, running her fingers through her still-damp hair. A yawn escaped. “Well, you two look like you might need to play a game of Go Fish. I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in about half an hour, if that’s all right, Justin.”
“I’m driving you home,” he said in his firmest voice. “Tonight I’m staying with Abby myself.” Her protest was cut off immediately. “No arguments. You’re dead on your feet, and I’m not.”
“I don’t want to leave Abby by herself while you drive me home,” she said.
“Neither do I. That’s why I called Madeline. She’s on her way now to take over while I run you back to the Quarter.”
“You called Madeline? Is this a conspiracy?”
“Let’s just say it’s two concerned people organizing your life for your own good.”
“Let him stay, Mommy.” Abby’s eager voice was a surprise. “I’ve never had a daddy stay in my room before.”
Nothing more needed to be said.
* * *
SUNSHINE THE DARK-GOLD of cane syrup flowed through the windows of the Royal Street apartment. Bethany opened her eyes and propped her arms under her head to stare at sunbeams dancing in tatted-lace patterns on the ceiling. The night before she had called Abby’s room just before crawling into bed, and as she had expected, everything at the hospital was going well. Talking to Abby, she could sense the little girl’s excitement at having her father there to cater to her every whim, and after receiving Justin’s reassurance he would call if there were any changes, she had hung up feeling secure and very sleepy.
She’d slept better that night than she had in a long time. With a small fan drowning out the noise from the street below, she had opened her windows to let in the cooling breeze, stripping down to nothing but a light sheet between her and the fresh air.
In the middle of the night she awoke suddenly, reaching out for Justin. It was a dream she had experienced before. In it Justin was making love to her, slowly bringing her toward climax. Suddenly he began to disappear, his body dissolving into wispy mists. She reached out for him and found nothing. Always she awoke at that point, searching for him in the covers tangled around her body.
It was an obvious dream. Bethany didn’t need years of therapy to understand its meaning. After Abby’s birth, she had forbidden herself to hold on to memories of her former lover. That usually worked during the day, but at night she was reminded of her feelings by the fading images.
Time had passed, and the frequency of the dream had diminished. Last night she had awakened once again to find him gone, but she hadn’t felt completely destroyed by his desertion. There’d been something different about the dream, something that distinguished it from the others. In the morning sunshine staring at the ceiling, she tried to piece it together.
She skimmed over the painfully erotic beginning, for it had always been the same, frustrating and unfulfilling. At the place where Justin always disappeared she stopped. The difference came sharply into focus. Last night Justin hadn’t left her. He had kissed her slowly, thoroughly, and as he did, he had whispered something to her. Straining to understand his words, she had come into full consciousness, destroying the dream.
The words still eluded her, but the new message was a surprise. Justin hadn’t left her. For the first time, he hadn’t left her. Bethany realized she was lying in bed, grinning. His feelings were still unclear to her, evidenced by the words she hadn’t understood, but he had still stayed with her.
Swinging her legs over the bedside, she rose, slipping into a flimsy bathrobe, and headed for the bathroom. Halfway across the room the phone stopped her.
“Is everything all right?” she asked after Justin’s greeting.
“Just fine. Abby has evidently inherited her appetite from you. This morning she put away more food than I thought little girls ate in a week.”
“Did you see the doctor?”
“Not yet. Why don’t you come over in a little while. I’ve arranged a ride.”
“Madeline?’’ Her partner really needed to be working this close to Mardi Gras. Even though the shop didn’t open until late morning, there were masks to make, accounts to figure. With Bethany out of commission the work load had increased.
“No, one of my mother’s staff. In fact, I thought I’d better warn you. Three of them are going to descend on the apartment in about half an hour to clean it thoroughly for you.”
There was silence on Bethany’s end of the phone line.
“Don’t be angry,” he said when it was clear that she was. “The doctor said it would have to be scrubbed from top to bottom to rid it of cat dander. You have more important things to do, and I knew you’d want to spend the time with Abby.”
It was impossible to stay angry in the face of such thoughtful logic. “All right. That was considerate of you.” Then the real impact of his statement hit her. “Your ‘mother’s staff? Does your mother know about Abby?”
“She knows something’s up. I promised to fill her in this evening. In the meantime she’s doing this on faith.”
“How’s she going to take it?”
“We’ll just have to see. In the meantime, when they arrive Homer will drive you right over here.”
As she hung up the phone she understood her relationship with Justin had reached a new level. His family, his wealth, would now play a part in decisions about their daughter’s life, thereby affecting Bethany, too. It was not a comforting thought.
* * *
RIDING TO THE hospital in a sleek black Cadillac with a uniformed driver wasn’t an experience Bethany relished. The old man had been politely formal, as had the two others who had shown up at her door with enough mops and equipment to clean the New Orleans Superdome. With strict instructions not to enter her workroom, where Bum had never been allowed, anyway, since cats and feathers weren’t a good combination, she had turned over her extra key and followed Homer to Mrs. Dumontier’s car.
Unaccustomed to such luxury, she sat quietly trying to imagine what kind of woman Justin’s mother was. If she was half as stiff and formal as the Cadillac, Bethany had a sinking feeling they weren’t going to get along. Somehow the realization that Mrs. Dumontier would have to be told about her granddaughter just hadn’t occurred to her. It only made sense; it was only fair, but Bethany wished it didn’t have to be so.
She thanked Homer and waved goodbye, giving him a bright smile. He rewarded her with a casual salute. As she passed the hospital gift shop she peeked in the window and then stepped in to buy some variegated ribbon barrettes for Abby. With her purchase in a colorful box tied with a red bow, she headed upstairs to the little girl’s room
.
“Why sweetheart,” she said in surprise, “you’re all alone.”
“Justin went downstairs to have coffee with a lady,” Abby said.
“You’re calling him ‘Justin’ now?”
The little girl nodded. “We ‘cided that would be good.”
Bethany sat on the bed beside her daughter, smoothing back Abby’s hair. “Tell me, why don’t you want to call him Daddy?”
The simple question turned the child into a carbon copy of her father, all expression wiped away. “Do I have to tell you?”
Obviously the decision was based on some major emotion. Bethany shook her head. “No, of course not.”
“Good.” She was silent for a moment, and then, unable to keep the reason to herself, she said, “It’s because I want to be sure he really is my daddy.”
“I see. And you’re afraid he might not be?”
“If he goes away again then he won’t be. Then I’m going to ask Lamar if he’ll be my daddy.”
“Abby,” Bethany said carefully, “your father may have to go away again, but he’ll always come back to visit you. Sometimes you can go to his house and spend time with him by yourself.”
“Not without you,” Abby answered, with an expression that indicated the conversation was closed.
Justin announced his arrival from the doorway. “Bethany, you’re here already.”
“Homer brought me right over.” She patted Abby’s hand, turning to see Justin come into the room followed by a young woman.
Wearing a bright smile and a pin identifying her as a member of the volunteer organization that helped staff the hospital, the woman came to stand next to Justin at the foot of Abby’s bed, linking her arm through his as if they were intimate acquaintances. She was dressed in a beige knitted dress that clung everywhere it was supposed to, a raw silk blazer and heels so high she almost tottered. Her hair was long and the same color as her dress exactly, giving the impression it had been dyed to match.
“Bethany, this is a friend, Danielle de Bessonet. Danielle this is my ex-wife, Bethany Walker.”
Bethany looked at him incredulously. Ex-wife? The look on his face was enough to convince her that confronting him about the newly bestowed title would best be done at another time.
Danielle held out her hand. “It’s so good to meet this sweet little girl’s mother,” she gushed. “Can you imagine my surprise when I saw ‘Abigail Justine Dumontier’ on the hospital admission form?”
Bethany took her hand politely. “I think I can. Justin is so good at surprises.” Abigail Dumontier?
“No one knew this sly rogue had been married. He can certainly keep secrets.”
“He certainly can,” Bethany agreed without looking at Justin.
“And such a lovely child,” Danielle continued. ‘‘ Such a sweet little girl.’’
Abby made a face, reaching for her mother’s hand. “Did you bring me something, Mommy?”
Bethany handed her the box with the barrettes. “Go ahead and open it.”
“So did I, Abby,” Danielle said. “I saw something downstairs that was just right for you. Why it’s like Christmas morning.” Danielle presented the child with another box.
Abby opened the barrettes first, fastening them at odd angles in her hair. “Thanks,” she said, digging into Danielle’s present next.
It was a sterling-silver heart on a chain. Engraved on the heart was, “Abigail Dumontier.”
“What does it say?”
“It has your name on it, sweetheart,” Bethany answered quickly. Abby hadn’t noticed when Danielle announced she had been renamed on her hospital admission form, but she was sure to comment on the incorrect name on the heart.
“Let me help you put it on,” said Danielle, taking the heart from the little girl’s hands and unfastening the clasp.
“I want to do it.”
“Why it’s too hard for you, honey.” Danielle ignored Abby’s outstretched hand. “I’ll fix your barrettes, too.”
With polite forbearance, Abby lay quietly in the bed, letting Danielle fuss over her, but Bethany could see the young woman’s appeal dropping, and the thought gave her secret satisfaction.
“Thank you,” the little girl said primly when Danielle had finished.
“Well, Justin, I must run. So nice to meet you, Beth. Goodbye Abby. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow.” Danielle stood on tiptoe and kissed Justin’s cheek. “Will I see you at the auditorium tonight for the Pisces Ball?”
“It’s doubtful.”
“Be sure to find me if you come. I’ll save a place on my dance card.” She waved goodbye and rustled out of the room.
Bethany’s tone was sugar-sweet. “Dance card? I know this is New Orleans, Land of the Debutantes, but I thought that went out a century ago.”
“Actually, women like Danielle went out a century ago. She’s something, isn’t she?”
“Something, yes.”
“I think maybe you and I need to have a talk about a few things she mentioned.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Coffee?”
“You’ll be super-caffeinated today, won’t you? First Danielle, then me? As early as it is, maybe there were even more coffee dates this morning?” She turned to her daughter, knowing he wouldn’t answer. “Will you be all right for a little while by yourself, sweetheart?”
“Can I turn on television?”
Bethany tuned in “Sesame Street” and followed Justin out into the hall. “Let me tell the nurses we’ll be gone for a while. This may take you some time to explain. In fact, maybe I should tell them not to expect us before dinner.” She marched toward the nurses’ station, with Justin close behind.
CHAPTER NINE
“WHAT WILL YOU have, Bethany?” Justin asked cordially after they were seated in the coffee shop.
Bethany eyed the same waitress she had almost knocked over the previous day and shook her head.
“She’ll have two eggs over light, toast and grits. Give her some coffee with lots of milk and orange juice on the side,” Justin said, ordering for her.
“Grits are kinda hard to shovel into your purse, sweetie. Are you sure?” asked the waitress, addressing Bethany with her lips pulled back in a half grin.
“Maybe you’d better serve them on a plate to go, just in case,” she answered. “I have a feeling it may be that kind of a meal.”
“You got it,” said the woman as she headed behind the counter.
Justin sat back in his chair, making a tent with his long fingers. “Well, you don’t look quite as mad as yesterday.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“After you left, a man at the next table stopped on his way out the door to give me his opinion of our little scene.”
“Oh?” She lifted a brow.
“Yes, he said. . .let me get this right. . .he said you were one hot mama when you were mad.”
“I’ll just bet.”
“It’s true.”
“And what did you say?”
Justin’s gaze traveled over the parts of her that were visible above the table edge. “I told him I hadn’t failed to notice.”
In spite of herself she smiled. “I’m surprised you even know what a hot mama is.”
“Remember what I do for a living. I have a vocabulary of slang you wouldn’t believe.”
“The unplumbed depths of Justin Dumontier. And speaking of unplumbed depths, I’d love to hear about your previous marriage. . . to me, if I heard Miss de Bessonet correctly.”
“It’s simple,” Justin said, his voice growing serious as he settled down to the discussion. “We have a daughter who, for better or worse, is going to have to grow up in this town. New Orleans is more liberal than some parts of the South, but a love child might get a certain kind of notice, especially in certain social circles. I had to do something to protect her.”
Love child. She didn’t even want to think about that. “No one has ever questioned me about Abby’s background. No on
e I know could care less.”
“Unfortunately, almost everyone I know would care, at least on some gossipy level. They’ll feel sorry for Abby and pass on their prejudices to their own children, who will be her peers.”
Bethany shook her head firmly, her dark hair swishing around her serious face. “I don’t want her living a lie.”
“Funny you should say that.”
“Justin!”
“Here’s your breakfast, folks.” The waitress eyed them warily. “Shall I put it on the table or in your purse?”
“Thank you,” Justin said without smiling. “We’ll eat it here.”
They ate in silence. Finally Bethany began again. “I guess you’d better tell me our history, so I’ll get it straight.”
“Then you’ll play along with it?”
“Maybe we owe your mother that much. Having an illegitimate grandchild could be a lot to explain.”
“I’m going to tell her the truth, but she’ll probably be glad to have a story to tell everyone else.”
“So what’s the plot of this little melodrama?” Bethany sat back, finishing her coffee, which was the only thing left at her place. In spite of her anger she had devoured breakfast.
“We met five years ago in Florida, fell instantly in love and married. The marriage was a mistake, and when I moved back to Chicago we went our separate ways. You discovered you were pregnant but didn’t want to stop the divorce proceedings, so you didn’t tell me.”
“I just love being the heartless vixen,” Bethany said.
“Can you think of a way to explain the fact that I’ve had no contact with my daughter in four years that doesn’t hinge on you being the heartless vixen?” He cocked his head. “I’ll be glad to use an alternate explanation if it covers all the bases.”
“How about this one,” she said after some thought. “We were married. I discovered you were having an affair with every woman on our block, including a great-grandmother and a nun. I left without telling you about the baby because I couldn’t figure out which house to find you in.”
“This is serious.”
The Unmasking Page 13