“Seventy-five thousand bucks for this?”
In the shock of seeing Ted Stanford on my once-safe Irish doorstep, I had responded with the first things that came into my head. By instinct, I had chosen the one effective stopper: snobbery. Teddie instantly reassessed the place, as did Number Two. She wasn’t a bad thing, after all.
“So … where the hell are they?”
“The children?”
“I sure as hell didn’t come three thousand miles to see your face again, Irene.”
I didn’t flinch under that old twisting sneer of his. I couldn’t. I was frozen solid. He’d come to see the twins? That made as little sense as his coming three thousand miles to see me.
“I’ve got a legal right to see my own kids,” Teddie went on. “Only don’t try shooting at me, Annie Oakley, or you’ll be in more trouble than you already are. They deport undesirable aliens, you know. And it is Saturday, the legally agreed-upon visiting day.”
Because I was clutching the door frame, I remained upright, and my mind parroted, It is legal. He does have the legal right… but I don’t want them to see him. It’ll upset them terribly.
“They’ve made other plans for the day.”
“They can damned well unmake them. I’m here.”
“Quod erat demonstrandum.”
An angry flush reddened his cheeks still more. “Quit the stalling, Rene. Where are they? And I’m warning you, I’m looking into this business of your firing a shotgun irresponsibly around minors.”
“Speaking of firing, that Mayday you gave the ISPCC has backfired. They were looking for kids in their diapers.”
“Oh?” Teddie affected smug innocence. “My secretary must have mistranscribed her dictation.” He took a step closer to the door. “Simon! Your dad’s here,” he yelled. “Ready and waiting. Sara? Where are you, dollface? Your daddy’s come to see you.”
His yell was superfluous.
“I’m here,” Snow’s voice came from behind me. She was crouched on the stairs, her fingers gripping the banister so hard that the knuckles were white.
“Dad.” Simon’s voice announced his presence right beside me. And I wanted to burst into tears at the sound of defeat in their subdued voices.
“Snow, honey, I can’t see you. Come give your old daddy a big smacker.” Teddie had executed one of those lightning changes of his. Now he was Ye Affable Sire, Doting Daddy, Popular Papa. He peered over my head toward the stairs, Eager Smile #3 splitting his face in two. He took another step, but I blocked his way. I did not want Teddie’s aura to contaminate my house. As he moved to push me aside, Simon stepped into the breach, his hand formally extended to his father. Teddie shook hands absently, then frowned as he realized he was being prevented from entering the house.
“Simon! What a formal way to greet your old man after all this time!”
“I saw you three weeks ago, sir.” Simon took a deep breath. “Sara and I resent the way you’ve been persecuting Mother.”
“Persecuting her? Ah, now, Simon boy, I didn’t persecute her.” Teddie displayed incredulous, jocular denial.
“With a private detective watching us? With that nonsense of the ISPCC? You only thought that up to embarrass Mother.”
I stared at Simon, as astonished as his father. Then I felt Snow’s hand fiercely latching on to mine. She edged close between me and Simon, her young mouth taut and her face very pale.
“Not to mention embarrassing us with all our friends,” she said, “with stupid questions they couldn’t have answered. And what excuse do you have for hanging on to the support money? Mother didn’t fleece you, as she should’ve. You’re getting off easy and you know it. You laugh about it often enough with those precious friends of yours—”
“Snow!” I couldn’t believe the way she was addressing her father.
Teddie gawked, speechless for once, at his daughter. His wife had eased herself away from the doorway, hoping not to become the next target.
“Why, you filthy bitch,” Teddie said to me, his eyes blazing, his chest swelling with inhaled anger, “turning my own kids against me … What kind of—why, I’ll—” His clenched fist lifted.
“I wouldn’t do that!” said Simon, stepping in front of me.
I gasped at the unnatural sight of my son raising a fist to his father.
“My son!” exclaimed Teddie in a muted whisper. “My only son, ready to strike his dad! What have you done to my children? I’ll have you in court for this! You can’t corrupt two nice—
“You’re a fine one to talk about corrupting. Daddy—dear.” Snow’s strident voice was almost unrecognizable. She’d stepped up beside Simon, but she still held my hand in that bone-crushing grip. “Oh, you’ve got a nerve! Corrupting? Nothing’s too good for the client, is it, Daddy-dear? Including your own—
“SNOW!” Simon’s shout was a warning and a command for silence, but I’d heard what she hadn’t said. And Teddie knew. His face turned white, and he staggered back, away from the revulsion in his daughter’s face and voice.
I clutched at the door frame, because everything was whirling about me. Of all the things I’d imagined might have happened that night at the Harrisons’, this … this … was appalling. No wonder the twins had turned against their father! When I thought of all the platitudes I’d uttered … of how often I’d tried to build their father’s image in their eyes … And then he’d pandered to preserve an account…
“I think you’d better leave, Mr. Stanford.” Shay’s calm voice broke the tableau. “It should be obvious, even to you, that your children do not wish for your company.”
“But they’ve got to. I mean, I’m their father!” Teddie had a very curious notion about rights and prerogatives. “I mean, I’ve got to have a chance to talk to them. There’s been a terrible misunderstanding. They got it all wrong. She’s brainwashed them?
“Simon, Sara.” This time it was Michael speaking.
The shock which had engulfed me cleared enough for me to realize that we were scarcely alone in the front yard. Shamus and Michael stood on the left, with George and Kieron by the gate and Mary and Ann at the driveway: the loyal courtiers come to relieve the beleaguered queen.
“I’m Mrs. Teasey’s solicitor, Mr. Stanford. I’ve been in touch with Mr. van Vliet.”
“Good man, now we can settle this all legally.” Teddie turned with smug self-assurance to Michael, his hand outstretched. Michael evaded that issue by reaching into his jacket pocket for some papers. Teddie redirected his hand to his forehead in an exaggerated gesture of relief. “I came here to avail myself of the visiting privilege granted me by the court. I have the right to see my children every Saturday during the year and to have them for a two-week vacation in the summer. I have decided to take them on a European trip, since they’re halfway there already”— Teddie’s attempt at a jocular laugh met with no responsive echo—“and this morning we’re going to discuss where they’d like to go.”
“No, Mommy, no,” said Snow, clinging to me, once more a child needing her mother’s protection. Oh, God, how I hoped that spitting demon of a few moments ago had disappeared … forever.
A hopelessness had settled on Simon’s face at Michael’s words, but now he was glaring intently at the solicitor. Hearing something?
“Yes, sir, those are your legal rights,” Michael said agreeably. I felt as cold as Simon looked.
“However, your children are now over fourteen, aren’t they?”
“Well, yes, of course they are. Don’t they look it?” asked Teddie smugly, as if he were solely responsible.
“Under American law, and indeed under Irish law, they do have certain rights at that age, which I believe Mr. van Vliet explained fully to them.”
All at once the taut spring in Simon’s back relaxed, and he turned to his father.
“Thank you very much for the invitation, Father, but we decline,” he said, quietly but decisively.
“You … you what!” Teddie’s head jutted forward from hi
s body in utter astonishment.
“We don’t want to go with you,” Simon said, gathering courage from the expressions of support on the faces of our friends.
“Nothing would get us to go with you again, anywhere, Daddy,” said Snow, with a resurgence of that bitterness.
“But—but—”
“I think that’s plain enough, Mr. Stanford,” said Michael. “Your children do not wish to accompany you. I’d suggest you leave.”
“Leave?” Teddie’s eyes popped out again, his chest swelled, and his face reddened alarmingly.
It was a sight which had often reduced me to ineffectual tears and pleas for forgiveness. Now he only looked ridiculous. He was drinking too much again, I thought with utter detachment. He’d put on a lot of flab. She really ought to get him on a high-protein diet. He doesn’t resist that.
“Yes,” Michael was saying, “leave.” He stepped up to Teddie with a gesture of dismissal.
“Now just a living minute!”
Teddie solidly planted his feet, and I knew he was capable of slugging everyone in sight.
“Where the hell did all of you come from?” he demanded, just then aware of the full audience.
“Sure and we’re friends of the children and Mrs. Teasey,” said Kieron in a dangerously soft voice. “Come to speed you on your way, since you’re leaving.”
“Why you little sawed-off Irish bastard—”
Kieron assumed a semi-crouch, which would have warned anyone not blind that the “little sawed-off Irish bastard” was prime for a rough-house.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Ted, John Wayne you are not,” said the second Mrs. Stanford in utter disgust. “And there are four of them! Let’s clear out. If your two kids don’t want to go, who needs ‘em? I don’t. They’ll be sorry soon enough.”
If she hadn’t added that last remark, she might not have succeeded.
“It’ll be too late then,” said Teddie, drawing himself up with massive and sorrowful dignity. “I’ve missed our weekly get togethers, kids. I’ve worried about you a great deal. One day you were safely in Westfield, where I could keep a good watch over you …” Even Teddie saw the inappropriateness of that line, because Simon’s head jerked up and Snow’s laugh reminded him of the kind of watch he had been keeping. “Well,” and Teddie half turned, head bowed, “you always know where to reach me. You’ve my telephone number in case of emergencies. You’re still my children … Good-bye.”
I think the catch of his breath was sincere, but he spoiled it with a sideways glance to see how effective he’d been. We all held our positions until we heard his car start up.
Snow’s eyes still flashed with anger and anxiety. “He’ll think of some other ploy. He always does!”
“Perhaps,” said Shamus with gentle amusement. Snow gave him a dark look, but his attitude evidently reassured her. Then he began to unhook my fingers from the door frame, and smoothed them out on one palm. “Holding the house up, Rene?”
“Vice versa,” I managed to reply through a dry mouth. Would my legs work if I asked them to move me? Shamus now took my arm as if he heard. I leaned into him gratefully. “Thank God you appeared. If you hadn’t… And Michael, you scared me to death for a moment. But how’d you know?”
“I sent Jimmy for the Marines,” said Simon, with a ghost of a grin on his anxious face, “the moment I saw Dad coming up the walk.”
Michael took my other arm and led me into the living room. “I thought Henry van Vliet had explained your rights to refuse,” Michael said to Simon and Snow. “He told me that you’d both asked about that on several occasions.”
“What?” I stared at the twins. “You never told me …”
“We don’t tell all,” said Snow facetiously.
“But you always went… you made no protest…”
“Because he’d’ve made things tough on you, Mom,” said Simon, at his most conciliatory, “if we hadn’t gone.”
“But we never went with him in the evening, ” said Snow, her blue eyes blazing again, “not ever again!”
“Oh, my darlings, if you’d only told me!” My chest was constricted in anguish for what they had endured.
Snow took my hands in hers and, sitting beside me, kissed me sweetly, reversing our roles for a moment.
“Mommy, it’s all right. It’s all over, and nothing actually happened. Simon made like big brother.”
I decided not to think more about that right now … or I’d be actively ill. I felt Shay’s hand sliding comfortingly around my shoulder, and I was mightily relieved by the thought that he’d now be able to protect Snow.
“What I don’t understand is why Hank didn’t warn us …”
“Actually,” Michael said, clearing his throat, “I had a cable from van Vliet this morning … came in late last night, in fact … warning me that Stanford was on his way with the avowed intent of taking the children. Ostensibly on a European tour, citing the vacation clause of the custody agreement, but van Vliet was convinced that Stanford would fly them to the States and let you battle to get them back.”
“That fiend! He can’t do that! He can’t!” My last vestige of control slipped.
Very calmly, my daughter fetched me a sharp little slap across my cheek. “If there’s anything more revolting than a dramatic dad, it’s a moaning mom.”
I thanked her profusely, tears streaming down my face, but the incipient hysteria didn’t overwhelm me, as my children comforted me.
“We can prevent him, Rene,” Michael said firmly.
“We bloody well already have,” Shay said, laughing.
“But Snow’s right,” Simon told them. “He’ll try.”
Shay was looking steadily at Michael, who nodded slowly.
“Then, I think, Rene, we’ll just sort him out right now,” Shay said.
“Jasus, yes,” said Kieron. “We’ve only just lifted the siege on one lady’s demesne.” He handed me a glass and told me to drink it, not to spill a drop, mind.
Whatever it was burned all the way down, but the quivering of leftover nerves subsided instantly and the pressure of tears behind my eyes eased.
“All right, then,” I said, getting more of a grip on myself. “I really do not wish to box myself or the twins up on this queendom like”—I glanced hastily around for fear Ann was in the room “but I shamefully confess that’s my intense desire.”
“Nonsense, Rene,” said Kieron sharply and with startled concern. “You’ve shown Ann a thing or two.”
“Me?” A poorer example I couldn’t imagine just then.
Shay grinned. “You’re quite an antidote to Irene, pet, though you start at the same point.”
That was too devious for me right then, but at least they approved, and I didn’t want to lose their approval. Shay gave me another squeeze on the shoulders and moved away from the couch. My instant courage dissolved as fast.
“Don’t leave …”
“Sure now, Rene, that ex of yours can’t regroup his forces that fast. Most of your bodyguard will stay.”
“But where are you going?”
“For reinforcements, love.”
With that I had to be content.
“Two to one Teddie knows somebody who’s buddy-buddy with the Ambassador,” I said, determined to be pessimistic.
“All we need,” said Snow in an oddly muffled tone, “is for Daddy to meet up with Auntie Alice.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I exclaimed in sharp disgust, “you come up with the most extraordinary ideas.”
‘You might say I’ve had practice, Mommy,” Snow replied, propelling herself off the settee and out of the room.
I started to tell her not to leave the house, then realized how silly that was, but Simon, gesturing to Jimmy, went after her. As long as the three were together, they were safe. Jimmy knew who the Marines were in this battle.
“I think if you’ll review the situation carefully, Rene, you’ll realize that you may be unnecessarily anxious,” said Michael.
&n
bsp; I heard him thinking that Snow’s weren’t the only ridiculous ideas. “Humph.” I had to get my wits together. “You didn’t live with that man for fourteen years. His pride has been bruised … badly. He’ll feel he has to reinstate himself with his children, if only to prove they were wrong about…”
“What can he do?” demanded Kieron with irritable sarcasm.
“Kidnap ‘em? Your daughter’s got the lungs of a pig-farmer, and Simon’s no way weak.”
“I suppose you’re right.” I began to believe them. And what on earth was that heavenly smell?
Ann walked briskly into the room with a tray, and the three musketeers were right behind her, falling over themselves to keep up with that tantalizing odor.
“You’ve had a shock and all, Rene, and Snow said you’d no breakfast. So, as the bread was just baked …”
Kieron and Michael were quite as willing to be fed as I, and once that lovely, still-warm-from-the-oven, violently fattening, delicious brown bread found my stomach, I did indeed feel considerably more like facing whatever other challenges the day presented. We all did.
“Stop fussing with things now, Ann,” said Michael, pointing authoritatively for her to be seated by me. He gave me a look, and I suggested to Snow and the boys that they’d better clear the empty bread tray.
“I stopped by to see both Rene and you, Ann. As you know,” said Michael, flicking a look at Kieron, “you can get a legal and binding separation from Paddy.”
Ann opened her mouth to protest.
“It’s no more than the cost of my time in drawing up the proper agreement.” Ann kept opening her mouth, and Michael kept waving her silent. Then Kieron grabbed her hand, and she subsided to a low fume. “This is the first time we’ve had Purdee where we could catch him for a signature. This is the only way in which you can achieve any legal protection against him for just the sort of thing he attempted last night. You can also have sole and legal custody of the children. You can also require him to pay support money—”
“I don’t want his money!” cried Ann fiercely.
The Kilternan Legacy Page 28