That Summer

by Joan Wolf

  “It's true.”

  “You're the best person that I know.”

  “But I'm sleeping with you and we're not married.”

  “We'll get this business with Liam fixed up in no time, Anne,” the senator said gruffly. “Abraham Kessler is an excellent attorney.”

  “You've heard of him?” I asked eagerly.

  “I certainly have,” the senator replied. “Kevin came through big time.”

  “He certainly did,” Liam said wryly. “Now he'll always be one up on me.”

  “Liam!” I protested.

  He gave me a crooked grin. Then he turned to his father. “Did you have a good time up in Maine? How was your golf game?”

  The two men talked while Mrs. Wellington sipped her wine, looking pale and fragile. I loaded our dinner dishes in the dishwasher and filled the kettle with water for tea.

  While I was waiting for the water to boil I uncovered the angel cake that Mary had made that morning. It had some kind of a caramel filling that was truly heavenly.

  “Who would like a slice of Mary's angel cake?” I said.

  The senator and Liam said yes, but Mrs. Wellington shook her head no. The kettle whistled and I filled the china teapot and put a teacup in front of all four places at the table. Then I gave out the cake, sat down and began to pour the tea.

  Right in the middle of the senator's describing a hole-in-one he almost made, Mrs. Wellington said, “If it wasn't for the medal, they wouldn't have arrested you. Is that right, Liam?”

  “I don't know about that,” Liam began, but I cut in over him.

  “That's right, Mrs. Wellington. And do you know, he identified the medal the minute he saw it? ‘Here's the medal, Mr. Wellington.’ Boom!‘Oh yes, that's mine.’ Surprise! ‘You're arrested.’”

  The senator said stiffly, “If it was his, someone was sure to identify it.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But by identifying it, he handed himself over on a silver plate.”

  Then we heard the clatter of something falling and we all looked. Mrs Wellington had dropped her fork on the floor. “Oh, how silly of me.” She bent as if she would get it.

  “Don't, Mom. I'll get it.”

  She looked awful, as if she might faint.

  “Can I get you something, Mrs. Wellington?” I asked. “A glass of water?” She looked as if what she really needed was smelling salts.

  “No, oh no. I'll be fine.”

  “I think you should lie down,” I said firmly. I looked at her husband. “Why don't you take her upstairs and see that she lies down? She's going to faint any minute.”

  “I think you're right,” he replied. “Come along, Alyssa. Let's go upstairs.”

  She stood up, but she swayed. Liam was by her side in a flash. He bent and picked her up. “It's okay, Mom. I'll carry you. Lead the way, Dad.”

  I sat by myself at the table as the three Wellingtons left the room, contemplating the scene I had just witnessed.

  Mrs Wellington had known about Liam's arrest when she entered the room. She had not become distraught until she learned of the existence of the medal. What could that mean?

  The likeliest explanation was that for the first time she realized there was actually some evidence connecting her beloved son to the murder. She had been resting secure, believing that there was nothing other than speculation to tie Liam to the crime. Then she had found out about the medal.

  Liam and his father had probably tried to keep the information away from her because they feared she would fall apart. She was certainly a fragile flower.

  I was very glad she wasn't my mother.

  Liam came down to rejoin me at the table and poured himself a cup of tea.

  “How is your mother?”

  “She's okay. Upset. Dad's going to stay with her for a while.”

  “I still can't believe she had to learn that you were arrested from the radio.”

  “You saw how she fell apart just now. Is it any wonder that we tried to keep the news from her?”

  “I would hate to be a person that people felt they had to keep things from.”

  “Mom has always been fragile. You know that. It's just the way she is.”

  His face looked shadowed and tense. I patted him on the hand. “Well, at least they're here. That looks good for you.”

  “I wish they weren't here,” he said savagely. “I wish they were back in Maine playing golf.”

  That note of savagery disturbed me profoundly. I didn't know how to account for it. After a moment I said quietly, “I wish I could be alone with you, too.”

  He took my hand and held it so tightly it hurt. He didn't speak.

  “Is there something you want to tell me, Liam?” I asked softly.

  He shook his head. “I can't, Annie. I can't.”

  “All right.”

  He held my hand to his mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Can we go upstairs?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Now?”

  “Sure.”

  We left the tea and cake on the table and went up the stairs to our bedroom. There was an element of desperation in Liam's lovemaking that night that had not been there before. He held onto me the way a drowning man might hold onto a flotation device. I didn't understand what was happening, but I did know that it had to be connected in some way to the visit of his father and mother.

  I drew him as deeply into me as I possibly could, wanting to take all his pain, his need, wanting to give him the closeness, the oneness, the reassurance that we were there for each other, two persons in one body. When it was over we lay pressed against each other, our hearts hammering, our breaths hurrying, and Liam said, “Annie. My other self.”

  I turned my head and kissed his cheekbone. “I wish I could help you.”

  “You do help me. Just by being here, you help me.”

  “That's good.”

  “One day I'll tell you. But I can't now.”

  “Okay.”

  We lay quietly for a little while. Then I said, “I'm going to have to clean up that kitchen. I can't leave the cake and tea dishes out for Mary to find in the morning. The dishes have to be put in the dishwasher and the cake has to be put away.”

  He groaned. “We have to get up?”

  “You can stay in bed if you like, but I have to get up.”

  “Yeah, and what kind of a heel will that make me look like?”

  “The worst sort.”

  “That's what I thought.”

  “We can catch the news, then.”

  “Great.”

  I handed him his jeans. “Here you go, buddy.”

  He accepted them and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on.

  CHAPTER 28

  Senator Wellington hustled his wife away the following day. She didn't want to go, but he bullied her into it. What surprised me was that Liam stood by and made no effort to stop it.

  “Will you be coming to the Belmont?” I asked as they stood outside the car.

  “Of course,” the senator replied smoothly.

  “Anne, dear, come and give me a kiss,” Mrs. Wellington said.

  I went over to her. She put her arms around me and said in my ear, “Have you seen that medal, dear?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Go and look at it,” she said.

  “Alyssa, we're waiting for you.”

  She released me. “We're so happy about you and Liam.”

  I looked into her face and nodded.

  Then they were in the car and driving away. Liam put an arm around my waist. “Dad said he thought he could let me have a few of the mares after all. Isn't that great?”

  I thought it was odd. Something about this whole visit was odd. I was going to get a look at that medal the first chance I could.

  Jacko and I worked with the yearlings in the morning, then in the afternoon I drove into town to the police station. I was hoping I would see Michael Bates on duty, but someone else was in
the office when I walked in.

  “Hi,” I said. “I'm Anne Foster. I'm Liam Wellington's fiancée.”

  “Hi there Dr. Foster,” the young policeman behind the desk replied. “What can I do for you today?”

  “I'd like to see the medal that's the evidence in the case against my fiancé. I've never had a chance to look at it and I'll be testifying about it so I thought I should see it.”

  He frowned. “I don't know if I should just show it to you.”

  “Why on earth not? It's a matter of public record, isn't it?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Do you want to ask someone?”

  “The chief isn't here just now.”

  “I promise you, I just want to look at it. I'm not going to try to steal it or anything.”

  “Well… I guess it's all right.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “It's in the evidence safe.”

  “If you'll go and get it, I'll wait here.”

  I waited in the small, bare waiting room, my heart pounding. There was something fishy about this medal. There must be, or why had Mrs. Wellington told me to look at it? After what seemed like an eternity, the policeman came back carrying an envelope in his hand. He brought it over to me. “Here it is,” he said, and slid a medal out onto his hand.

  It was gold. That was all I saw. The medal was gold.

  Liam's medal had been silver.

  What the hell was going on here?

  “You can see where the chain was broken,” the policeman pointed out helpfully. I looked at the tear in the delicate chain.

  “Yes,” I said faintly. “Yes, I see. Thank you very much, Officer. I appreciate your help.”

  I stumbled a little as I went down the front step of the police station and I caught myself at the bottom. My mind was in a whirl.

  Liam had lied. He had known that the medal wasn't his and he had lied.

  Who did the medal belong to?

  I thought of Mrs. Wellington, of how her husband and son had struggled to keep the news of Liam's arrest from her; of how the senator had whisked her away this morning; of how she had asked me to go and look at the medal.

  Could the medal belong to Mrs. Wellington?

  But that didn't make sense. I certainly couldn't picture fragile Mrs. Wellington killing Leslie.

  Nothing made sense.

  What was I going to tell Liam?

  Clearly, this was the secret he said he couldn't tell me. And now I knew it. Would he be upset if I told him? Would he be angry?

  I had to tell him. This was not something I could keep to myself. I walked to my car, my heart thumping.

  It isn’t Liam's medal. It isn’t Liam's medal.

  But whose medal was it? Who was he protecting?

  His father?

  I got into the car and drove back to the farm. For almost the first time in my life I had a dilemma I couldn't lay before my mother. This was something that had to stay between Liam and me.

  I cooked a pot of pasta for dinner, then Liam asked me if I wanted to take a walk to check on the mares and foals. We put on jackets against the evening chill and walked hand in hand down the path to the big pastures that housed the mares and their babies.

  It was a beautiful night. The stars were clear in the sky and the moon gave enough light for us to see our way. The air smelled of grass and horse and earth.

  “I'm going to hate to see all this go,” Liam said.

  “You'll have a new farm,” I replied.

  “We will,” he replied. “And it will be easier now that Dad has said I can take some of the mares with me.”

  A bribe, I thought cynically.

  “Which ones will you take?” I asked out loud.

  “I'll have to think about it.”

  “How many did he say you could take?”

  “He didn't exactly give me a number.”

  “You'd better pin him down to a number, so you know what you're talking about.”

  “You're probably right.”

  I looked up at the stars. If only people were as clear and straight and true, I thought.

  One of the foals decided he wanted to nurse and nudged his mother. She curved her neck to nuzzle him.

  Liam said, “I might take Ring Of Kerry. She's had some very nice foals.”

  Better say it out here, I thought. Under the stars.

  My heart began to pound. “Liam,” I said. “When I was saying goodbye to your mother yesterday she asked me to go and look at the medal at the police department. I had never seen it, you know.”

  His hand went rigid in mine.

  “I went today.”

  He didn't say anything.

  “The medal at the police station was gold, Liam. Your medal was silver.”

  Still he didn't say anything.

  “That's not your medal,” I said. “You identified it as yours, but it isn't. That's what you couldn't tell me, isn't it?”

  Silence.

  I looked up at the sky and let the silence build.

  Finally he said, “My mother asked you to go and look at it?”

  “Yes. When she was hugging me to say goodbye. She asked me if I had seen it and when I said I hadn't she asked me to go and look at it. So I went.”

  “Shit.”

  “She didn't know anything about the medal until I mentioned it to her. I let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?”

  He dropped my hand and leaned against the fence. “Yeah,” he said. “You did.”

  “So what's going on, Liam? Are you going to tell me now?”

  He looked at me, his face bleached white by the moon. “How much have you guessed?”

  “I've guessed that you're covering for someone, but I don't know if it's for your mother or your father.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Try both of them.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Christ, Annie, I can hardly believe it myself. When I saw my mother's medal I almost fainted.”

  “So it was your mother's medal.”

  “Yeah. Grandma had given one to her as well and she usually wore it. I couldn't believe it when I saw it. I knew it was damning evidence, though, so I thought I would say it was mine until I could find out what was going on.”

  The June night was cool because of radiation cooling, but the chill I felt had nothing to do with the weather. He knew it was damning evidence. He had kept telling me it wasn't important.

  “So what did you do after you got home from the police station?”

  “I called my father and told him what had been found. I told him what I'd done. I told him I expected to be arrested.”

  “What did he say?”

  “At first he said he had no idea how my mother's medal had come to be at Leslie's grave site. I told him that wasn't good enough, that if that was all he could tell me, I'd tell the police who it really belonged to. After a great deal of heated discussion, he came clean.”

  There was silence. Out in the field the horses moved slowly around. I didn't say anything.

  “This is so hard for me Annie.”

  I put my hand over his on the fence.

  He drew a deep breath. “Did you know that Leslie was having an affair with my father?”

  “Good God. At the same time she was with you?”

  “That's right.”

  “Did you know that?”

  “Of course not. But my mother did.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. The night of the party Mom was very drunk— and very angry at Leslie. Dad had always kept his affairs away from Midville. At home he played the faithful husband and Mom could hold up her head. She was furious that he had broken that rule with Leslie. At some time during the party she accosted Leslie and asked if she could talk to her in the summerhouse. Leslie went with her. The conversation did not go well. Basically, Leslie said it wasn't her problem if Mom couldn't keep her husband faithful. Mom was drunk and livid and she picked up the baseball bat and bashed Leslie over the head with it.
”

  I stared at Liam in stunned amazement. “Your mother killed Leslie?”

  “That's right.”

  “But she's so fragile …”

  “Not apparently with a baseball bat in her hand,” Liam said grimly.

  “I can't believe this.”

  “It took me a while too.”

  “All these years, while people were suspecting you, it was really your mother!”

  “The last person anyone would suspect.”

  “But how did your father know this, Liam? Did she tell him?”

  He looked at me in irony. “Who do you think buried Leslie? Mom?”

  My eyes popped. “Oh my God. Your father buried her?”

  “That's right. Mom went and found Dad and told him what she had done. They waited until the party was over, then they got one of the farm trucks, loaded up the body and drove it out into the woods. Dad dug the grave and buried the body. Mom was there; that's when she must have lost the medal.”

  “I can't believe I'm hearing this.”

  “You can imagine how I felt. They're my parents.”

  “You can't take the rap for this, Liam. It's outrageous that your parents should expect you to.”

  “The alternative is that Mom would go to prison for murder and Dad would go for being an accessory.”

  “So it's better for you to go?”

  “Dad said they won't let me be convicted.”

  “Great. They'll step forward after we've all perjured ourselves by swearing that your mother's medal is your medal—so we'll go to prison for perjury!”

  “Oh God, I don't know. It's all such a mess, Annie. I don't know what I'm doing any more.”

  “I'll tell you one thing, Liam. I don't think your mother intends to let you take the fall for her. Once she finds out that the medal is hers, I think she intends to claim it.”

  “Dad won't let her.”

  “This may be one time when your father can't stop her.”

  “Dad can always control Mom.”

  “He couldn't control her drinking and he couldn't control her killing Leslie.”

  He didn't say anything.

  “Where did your parents go?”

  “To the Georgetown house.”

  There was a stand of trees in the pasture and a bird began to call from them.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  He rubbed his hands across his eyes. “I don't know.”