Blue Lake

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Blue Lake Page 24

by Elizabeth Buhmann


  Beckie grimaced sympathetically. “I don’t know.”

  Rosa whispered, with a glance at the door, “Steven’s behind it.”

  “Steven? How?”

  Beckie explained. “Steven convinced Ron that what you did was the wrong approach, and the two of them pulled an all-nighter, working up a whole new presentation. Ron said he didn’t think it sounded like you’d be back.”

  Rosa crossed her arms. “Steven said you walked off the job.”

  “I’m sure it did sound that way. So they went with Steven’s version.” She looked at her own materials. “But you’re taking mine?”

  Beckie dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think the clients liked it! They didn’t say much, but I could tell they weren’t thrilled. So Steven said, ‘I can show you an alternative,’ and Ron told me to get the ‘other’ proposal. He didn’t say anything about you.”

  Rosa said, “Steven would have taken credit for yours if they liked it better.” She nudged Beckie. “Tell her what you said.”

  Beckie giggled. “I played dumb. I said, ‘What other proposal?’ Then I said, ‘Oh, you mean Regina’s? It’s in her office.’ You should have seen Ron’s face.”

  Rosa zipped the portfolio and handed it to her. “You’re just in time.”

  “You take it in,” Beckie said. “It’s your work.”

  “You won’t get in trouble, will you? Say I barged in.”

  Beckie said, “Come on, I’ll get the door. I’m warning you, it’s tense in there.”

  When she stepped into the doorway of Ron’s office, Regina paused to get her bearings. She had the sense that it was silence, not discussion that she’d interrupted. Ron, Steven, and two women were seated at the round conference table by the window. Ron slouched to one side in his chair, his hand covering his mouth. Steven’s fingers tapped the edge of the table. The two women, one heavyset and in her thirties, the other older, white-haired, well-groomed, and thin, were both expressionless.

  An instant later, all four reacted to her presence. Ron and Steven both said, “Regina.” The two women perked up, seemingly relieved.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

  Ron stood and offered his chair. “I explained about your father. We would have understood if you hadn’t come at all.”

  She addressed the two women, looking from one to the other. “My father’s been in failing health for some time. My whole family is with my mother right now. I’m Regina Hannon, and I’ve been working on your wonderful project. What you’re doing is so important.”

  She barely heard Ron’s belated introductions, failed to catch the women’s names. Her eyes fell on the poster on the table, a picture of a forlorn-looking hippie flower child. Everybody makes mistakes, it said.

  The younger woman asked Regina, “What do you think of this one?”

  Steven answered. “I think we need to show these girls that they can put the past behind them. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, and they can start over.”

  Neither of the women looked his way. They waited for Regina to speak. Steven opened his mouth, but on second thought shut it.

  Regina drew breath, her eyes taking in the shadowy image. “It’s fine, very well done, but it bothers me that we’re assuming she’s done something wrong. The message seems to be that these young women are misguided.” She spoke to the younger woman who had asked her opinion. “We don’t know what their stories are.”

  She set the edge of her portfolio on the table, and Ron hastened to move aside the poster and half a dozen brochures. Regina thanked him and laid out her version.

  The two women reacted at once with Oh! and Ah!

  The older one said, “How beautiful.”

  Regina handed out brochures. “If I were someone who might need your services, I would want to think you’d hear my side of the story. I wouldn’t want to think my life was ruined or that I had lost control. I would want you to understand that I had my reasons for what I did, and it wasn’t necessarily all my fault, wasn’t necessarily a mistake. It doesn’t all come down to me.”

  The women were nodding and smiling.

  “Maybe some of them just ran away for a lark, made bad decisions, underestimated the danger. But you don’t know that. They may have come from an abusive home, they may not have been protected, they may have had to shift for themselves. You don’t know why they need a place to stay.”

  25

  Anything For You

  Al went looking for Regina several times Thursday. The first time, early, the door to her office was closed. He knocked. No answer. He found Rosa, who said Regina had gone home again.

  “She got a call from her sister. I don’t know if she’ll be back.”

  He called the number for Blue Lake and asked for her. The woman who answered the phone, an unfamiliar voice, told him in terms that seemed quite frosty that Regina wasn’t there and was not expected.

  Later, around noon, he found her office open but empty. Rosa was nowhere in sight.

  At about two o’clock, he walked down the hall a third time to find the office closed again and Rosa in her station as usual.

  “You missed her.”

  “She came and left again?”

  Rosa made a lugubrious face. “Her dad died.”

  “Oh.” He knew her feelings were mixed, but he also knew that she loved her father, maybe more than she realized. He wondered if she had reconciled with him before he died.

  Rosa broke into his thoughts, leaning forward and whispering, “I don’t know what’s going on with her and Ron. You know she had that big project?” Rosa was all but chortling. “Steven convinced Ron that he could do it better than her, but the clients didn’t like Steven’s stuff. So Regina came in and showed them her version and they loved it.” She giggled. “It was a complete fiasco for Steven and Ron. Then Ron asked, didn’t they have to ask the donor whether he liked it? And they said they were pretty sure she’d love it! Beckie said she had to run for the ladies’ room so she could die laughing.”

  “This all happened today?” He looked around, puzzled. “So where is she now? Did she leave again?”

  Rosa sat back, no longer in gossip-mode. “Yeah, and I’m not sure she’s coming back.”

  “Wait, what? Did she just go home or did she quit?”

  “I don’t know. Ron doesn’t seem to know. He didn’t think she’d even be here today. Apparently when she left yesterday, it sounded like she might’ve quit. And today she left again as soon as the meeting broke up. Walked out with the clients, so Ron didn’t get to talk to her afterward.”

  Rosa babbled on about Ron being really nervous, because he’d almost screwed up the job by not listening to Regina, and how he was worried that the clients would follow her if she didn’t stay on. And about the donor, a widow who had once been a stripper and married a millionaire.

  But Al had latched on to the part about Regina not coming back. He waited for a break in the flow, thanked her, and tapped her desk. “Sorry, I’ve got to run.”

  Back at his own desk, he pondered. He felt as though she was slipping away from him again. The only number he had for her was the one for Blue Lake, and he knew that with her father gone, the family planned to sell the house. He had no idea where she was. And he didn’t like the way they’d parted the day before. He twirled a pencil once or twice, then slapped it down. He was going to have to find her before she disappeared again. He would leave right after work.

  When he got to his parents’ house that evening, his father greeted him with, “You driving back and forth again?” He held up the newspaper. “I see where Old Man Hannon died.”

  “Yeah.” An idea came to him. “Does it say anything about the funeral?”

  “Saturday. Grace Church.”

  He called Blue Lake again, prepared to weather another cool reception, but the man who answered was polite, if uninformative. He had no idea where Regina was, but he supplied the time of the funeral service readily enough.

  Al made the tr
ip to Richmond on Friday. Without seeing Regina or learning anything new, he headed back to Piedmont, resigned to finding her at the funeral. Surely she was not so estranged that she wouldn’t be there.

  The service would be held at Grace Church, which Al now knew was her grandfather’s old parish. He arrived early and spent a quarter of an hour wandering the well-kept grounds of the old square-towered stone church. The brick rectory behind it had the look of a modest British country house, steep-roofed and gabled. He wandered to the edge of the old gated cemetery and read names and dates randomly until he heard the first cars arriving. He was estimating the crowd at more than fifty when he spotted her. He hastened to intercept her.

  “Ree.” He took her hands. “I’m sorry about your dad. I know you loved him.”

  She closed her eyes, her lips quivered, and she sank into his arms.

  He held her, rocking gently, then took her by the shoulders so he could see her face. “I don’t want you to think I don’t believe you about anything. I believe anything you say.”

  She pulled away, sniffling, and accepted his handkerchief with a little laugh. She was wearing a dark blue dress that made her eyes look deep sapphire. “I cry too much these days. I didn’t use to cry all the time. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

  He brushed a knuckle under her chin. “You don’t have to apologize for crying at a funeral.”

  That got another rueful little laugh. “I shouldn’t be laughing either. What I need is a little composure.” She sniffed and straightened, fixed him with a serious face. “You were right. I’ve been crazy. What they—my family—and I did to the Rawleys was wrong. I drove by the other night.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “Old Mr. Rawley knew exactly who I was and what I’d done. He screamed at me.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook off the memory. “I deserved it.” When Al started to protest, she said, “No, I did. I’ve been clutching at straws. I even suspected myself for a while.”

  “What?” He laughed incredulously. “You were three!”

  She told him about finding a doctor her father had consulted about what to do with her after her sister drowned. “Apparently, my father thought I was too difficult for my mother.” She stopped, bit her lip, and then collected herself. “He said I was willful, headstrong, and jealous.” Her voice quavered on the damning words. “Anyway, I’ve been out of my mind.”

  Al slid his hands down her arms and held her wrists. “Did you see him again before he passed away?”

  “I did. I told him I was sorry for staying away so long, and I told him I loved him. I hope he heard me. I felt like he did.”

  A pair of old ladies, one tall and sturdy looking, the other bent and frail, stopped on their way into the church. Regina introduced them as Sophie and Mrs. Marsden, and then asked anxiously, “Are you okay, Sophie?”

  “I’m fine.”

  But the taller woman said, “I’ve persuaded her to stay on for a while and rest in our good mountain air before tackling the trip back to Savannah. It’ll be getting horribly hot there by now anyway.”

  The two women offered condolence and moved on. Regina glanced periodically in the direction of the parking lot, then said, “Oh no.”

  Three cars arrived in a caravan and pulled into the reserved spaces closest to the central walkway.

  Al recognized the first to alight as the man he’d seen with her at the hospital. “Who’s that?”

  “Frank. I hope he’s not mad at me.”

  “It doesn’t look like he is.”

  Frank waved to her before turning to help a slender, white-haired woman from the back seat of his car. A beautiful woman, Al thought, very like Regina. She had the same delicate, finely molded features, moved with similar grace.

  Regina gasped and clutched his arm with surprising strength, her fingers digging in. A man had emerged from the passenger side of Frank’s car, a slightly paunchy man with unnaturally black hair.

  “Is that him?”

  “Oh, ugh. I can’t stand the sight of him.” She turned her head away, her cheek against his shoulder.

  A handsome dark-haired woman also appeared from the back seat on the other side, and this foursome waited for a couple that Al had never seen and two women he recognized from the day he’d fetched Regina at the hospital.

  “Who are the couples?”

  “My other brother, Pace, and his wife.” She looked back at the group that was now approaching. “Edith, and oh, that’s her husband Beau. And my sister Bebe, who hates me. Her husband is in England, so he wouldn’t have come. But oh gee. They’re all here.” She nodded at a group of younger people on the other side of the parking lot. “That’s Edith’s daughter Angelica, and I don’t know who she’s with, maybe a boyfriend? But the other two are her sister and brother. And then over there—oh, everybody came. Frank’s wife. Frank’s and Pace’s kids. Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  So was he. When the vanguard reached them, Frank shook hands with Al and hugged Regina, who began to cry again. Regina greeted Alice Hannon with a hesitancy that struck him as sad. This was her mother. The older woman was indeed beautiful, regal in her posture, flawless in black with white gloves. She accepted Regina’s kiss on her cheek with a sweetness that appeared amazingly impersonal, and he wondered, from all he’d heard, if she knew who Regina was. That woman is definitely not all there.

  The family was warm or cool by differing degrees. Bebe radiated irritation, Edith was noncommittal. Her husband, a strapping, likable man who looked to be several years older than his wife, shook Al’s hand with a genial smile. Pace and his wife greeted Regina cordially enough, and Pace also shook Al’s hand. Mary reached out to Regina, who returned a quick embrace but shrank from Mary’s husband, whose eyes never seemed to leave Regina and smoldered with disapproval. Al felt, without looking at her, the hostility burning in Regina.

  As the family headed toward the church, Frank said, “Oh, Regina, I met with Papa’s attorney this morning about the will, which I think you know has been somewhat altered. If you want to join us, I’ll brief everybody at the same time.”

  A sensation that Al didn’t understand crackled through the group. Bebe was clearly sending unspoken messages to all her siblings but Regina.

  Frank stepped back and opened his arms to include everybody. “Let’s say we'll all go to the house after the funeral. If anybody can’t make it, I’ll call you right afterward and fill you in.”

  Regina took Al’s arm and hung back, her face pale and grim, while the family headed into the church.

  “What was that all about?” Al asked.

  “Bebe told Papa I accused Robert, and he changed his will. Told him I tried to seduce Robert and then lied and blamed him. I don’t know what all she said about me.”

  “Now, if you want to talk about willful, headstrong, and jealous…” She got a considering look on her face, and he said, “Don’t tell me now you suspect your sister.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “No, really, I’m giving all that up.”

  By mutual accord, they held hands as they followed the rest of her family into the church and sat two pews back.

  He leaned close as organ music drowned out the congregation’s muted chatter. “Did she tell him that before you saw him or after?”

  “Before. But he wasn’t conscious the last time I saw him. Oh, it’s a long story.” She waved. “Bebe told him I was going to make trouble about selling the house. I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s all over. Blue Lake is some kind of mirage. It’s a fairy tale castle from a time that’s long gone.”

  He found himself once again feeling guilty about how happy he was to have her settled next to him when he knew she was upset. “Surely he wouldn’t altogether cut you out of his will over this?”

  “No, I doubt that. Maybe he just made sure I couldn’t block the sale.”

  “So are you going?”

  All rose for the processional. He leaned close to hear her reply. “I’m sure Bebe can’t decide
if she wants me there for the humiliation or if she wants me shut out of the family for good. Frank offered me an out, but I feel like I should be there. Would you come with me?”

  “Of course.”

  After the service, he followed her to her car, but she seemed reluctant to get in, hanging back and wringing her hands. He touched her elbow and gestured toward his own car. “Do you want me to drive?” When she looked from her car to his, indecisive, he added, “We can come back and get yours afterward.”

  She nodded mutely and whispered thanks.

  She was tense and silent on the ride to Blue Lake, white-faced when he opened the passenger door to let her out. He offered a hand, which she took and kept until they reached the steps. There she gave him a brief, unhappy smile and led the way.

  He followed her inside the high-ceilinged entryway, taking in the grand staircase and chandelier. Through an archway to the left, he saw the same family members gathered in a spacious sitting room. Frank stood with his back to a front window, facing the others. Three older Hannon siblings were seated in a circle in front of him: Pace and Edith on a red brocade sofa, and Mary in a delicate French armchair. Bebe stood behind the sofa, glaring at Regina, who hung back in the archway as if ready for a quick escape. Regina’s eyes were locked on a far corner where Robert Medina lurked. Pace’s wife sat on a straight chair by a back window, also mostly out of sight. Al stood close behind Regina, resisting the impulse to steady her with a hand on her shoulder.

  Bebe looked quickly from Frank to Mary and back when she saw Al, as if ready to protest his presence, but Frank greeted him, then said, “I think we’ve got everybody.”

  Edith asked Mary, “Should we wait for Alice?”

  “She’s lying down. She didn’t want to get up when I checked on her.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “I think we can start. I went over it with Papa’s attorney to make sure I understood it, but really, it’s pretty clear. Let me say first that Alice does still have her own money. It’s her inheritance from the Pace fortune. That money was never in Papa’s control, which is actually unfortunate, because he did a lot better job of rescuing capital in 1929 than her trustees. Her fortune was much diminished during the crash.”

 

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