“Just listen for second. Audra, please . . .”
She charged toward the apartment, pulling out her cell phone. She was prepared to summon the police if needed.
“Audra!” he called to her. “We’re dropping the case.”
The declaration stopped her cold, spun her around. She had to have misheard him.
He walked over with a gait that now looked weary. Again he settled close by. “Last night, Meredith and I had a long discussion. And we realized we made a big mistake.”
Audra shook her head, too stunned to be relieved. She tried to trace the change of heart and could only imagine one cause. “Is this because of the cemetery? Just because you saw me at Devon’s grave, now I’m worthy of being Jack’s mother?”
“I’m not gonna lie. Seeing you there, the shock of it, that did get us talking. But that’s not why we’re withdrawing the petition.”
“Oh, really? Why, then?” She worked to keep her voice level.
In silence Robert gazed off toward a passing car. Over the past month, the skin under his eyes had drooped and darkened. “You remember hearing of Meredith’s bout with depression? Back when Devon was around six months old.”
Sure, Audra remembered. Robert had referred to them as “the baby blues.” Although she’d long ago surmised that the postpartum affliction had been worse than the family let on, the mention of it now turned her stomach. After all the turmoil the couple had caused, he was resorting to a sympathy plea.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but if you actually think I’m going to feel bad for Meredith—”
“Now you hold on,” he shot back, his eyes like daggers. “I’m gonna say what I came to, then I’ll be on my way for good, if that’s what you want. But there’s something you’ve got to hear first.”
Never had she seen him this stern. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and nodded begrudgingly.
Robert folded his arms, inhaling a shaky breath. He proceeded in a tight but gentler tone. “For years before Devon was born, Mere taught piano lessons at the house. A few were adults, but most were kids. I used to say we lived in Grand Central, with the way people were always coming and going.”
The piano in Meredith’s music room, stored beneath a canvas, returned to Audra’s thoughts. Not once had she ever heard a single key played.
“There was a little girl in the bunch. Name was Paige. She was a petite thing, cute as a button. Always smiling and laughing and loved giving hugs. But then her mom got remarried, and Mere noticed her attitude started to change. Got real quiet during her lessons, smiled a lot less. Mere assumed the girl was just adjusting to the lifestyle, that maybe her mom was paying her less attention, wrapped up in the excitement of being a newlywed. But then, Mere ... she saw ...”
He broke off when his voice wavered, and he cleared his throat. “She saw bruises on the girl’s wrists. Her sleeves had ridden up while she was playing a song. When Mere asked about them, Paige said she’d been roughhousing with a neighbor boy. Later, Mere noticed the girl was wearing long sleeves and pants every time. She started missing lessons and her piano skills were getting worse.”
“Did Meredith ever bring it up to the girl’s mother?” Audra had to admit, the question was slightly pointed. It was difficult not to feel that such a concern should be reasonably investigated before delivering assumptions to authorities.
“Mere did ask her about the marks,” he replied. “Did it in private right after the spring recital. But the woman claimed Paige was just a tomboy. The mom was such a nice lady, Mere didn’t want to think the worst. She certainly didn’t want to butt her nose in or make accusations that were wrong. Mere was still worried, but days later she went into labor with Devon. She took a break from teaching, being busy with the baby. Then late in the fall, she called around to let her students know she’d be offering lessons again in the new year. And that’s when she learned the news.”
Audra wished she could reject Robert’s appeal, but the nature of the story made that impossible. Despite his ominous tone, she hoped with all her heart the outcome wasn’t horrific. “And . . . what happened?”
“That August, on a hot summer day, Paige had snuck a damn Popsicle. Her stepfather gave her a blow to the head that caused her brain to hemorrhage.”
“My God,” Audra said, her stomach turning again.
“Meredith blamed herself so much for not speaking to the police. She slipped into a pretty bad depression. It took a lot of work, a whole lot of tears and prayers to get out of that slump. So when we noticed some of the same signs with Jack—well, we thought maybe you’d changed after losing Devon. Grief, I know, can do strange things to people....”
He paused and shifted his feet. From the shame in his eyes Audra realized he was referring not just to her but also to him and Meredith. That perhaps the court filing was part of their own grieving process.
“Audra, I hope you can understand. When you talked about being in a rush to move, we got flat-out desperate. The way things were going, we figured there was a good chance we’d never see Jack again. Above all, we knew if anything ever did happen to him because we didn’t try to protect him—even from you—we would never forgive ourselves.”
No question, when recent events were outlined on paper, Audra was well aware how she’d appear as a parent. Meredith’s history aside, the suspicions weren’t exactly unfounded. “What makes you certain now that Jack is safe with me?”
“Our lawyer told us about the police report. How they’d given Jack a thorough check and were satisfied. I admit that it helped put our mind at ease. Beyond that, seeing you in person yesterday, I guess you could say it woke us up. It reminded us how much we really do know you. And that you’re a good person, Audra. More important, you’re a good mom. Deep down, we’ve always believed that—even when you seemed to have doubts about it yourself.”
A mix of emotions whirled through her. She tried to respond but couldn’t assemble the words.
After an exhale, Robert rubbed his jaw and said, “Frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave us. If I were in your shoes, I’m not sure I’d be capable of that. But I do want you to know how deeply sorry we are. We love you, and we love Jack. No matter where you decide to go from here, I hope you always remember that.”
A quiet beat passed before Robert submitted a smile and turned for his car. He climbed in and drove off, around the corner, out of view. But still Audra stood there, her spirits both blooming and wilting in the afternoon light.
56
The day grew quiet as the sun retired from its post. Children at the fountain had come and gone. Mothers and nannies had pushed countless strollers down the path. A welcome breeze fluttered its fingers at the tree above the bench where Vivian remained.
Since Gene’s departure from the park, she had lost all concept of time. She had shed the tears that begged to fall, but once again the numbness protected her from ruin. She was gazing at the mosaic of filtered light dancing across the grass when a large shadow appeared on the ground.
“It’s time to go.”
She raised her head, expecting a park patrolman to usher her along. Instead, it was Gene.
“I said I’d take care of you.” His tone was tense but level. He didn’t look in her eyes. “I made a promise.”
“Gene . . .”
He grabbed the handles of their travel bags and started toward the street. He was several strides away when he paused, a signal for her to follow.
Alas, he had returned here out of decency, to keep his conscience clear. With nightfall soon arriving, he would ensure she made it home before he walked away forever.
Wearily, she came to her feet. She accompanied him to the sidewalk and on toward the bus depot. They continued in silence over a stretch of city blocks and into Foley Square. When he began to climb a wide set of concrete stairs, she realized where they were.
“This is the courthouse.”
He proceeded without speaking.
“What
are we doing here?”
Again, no response. Just more steps.
“Gene, stop.” She grabbed his arm to cease him. “Tell me what we’re doing.”
He shifted his body toward her, though still avoided her eyes. “The baby needs a father,” he said coarsely. “The way I feel about everything else ... I don’t know what to make of yet. All I know is there’s an innocent baby in this mess-a baby that ought to have two parents. There’s no reason it should have to suffer.”
Vivian withdrew her hand. Pride commanded her to refuse. A strong, independent woman would not allow a man to do this, no matter how charitable his intent.
But pride, she realized, would not feed and clothe her child. Nor would it provide a respectable standing on which that child could build a life. Her unborn baby deserved much more than Vivian could supply on her own.
After all the damage she had unwittingly caused, she could do this. If Gene was willing, she would do this.
With a single nod, she acquiesced and the two resumed their ascent. She followed him through the doors, into the corridors of justice, and prepared to say her vows.
Before long, the papers were signed and scripted words recited. The official pronouncement was made. There was even an official kiss, though it passed with all the warmth and length of a pinprick. Gene paid two extra dollars for strangers to stand as witnesses. Luanne and an Army buddy had long since left the courthouse by the time Vivian and Gene arrived.
“I’ll call them tomorrow,” he had intoned when Vivian asked about updating the others to explain the delay in the ceremony. She imagined he would create a plausible excuse, perhaps cab trouble or temporary cold feet, but he did not confirm this. In fact, he said nothing more.
At the hotel, she soaked in the tub until the water had cooled her to a shiver.
Dressed in her white, silken nightdress-she had packed only this for sleepwear-she left the haven of the bathroom. Gene was lying beneath the covers on the far side of the bed. One hand under his head, he gazed at the ceiling. Lamplight outlined the bare surface of his chest, the muscles she had felt only through a layer of fabric.
“I see there’s a bottle of champagne on the bureau,” she said. She craved conversation of any kind, the slimmest sense of connection. “Are you thirsty?”
He flicked her a glance. It was the same attention he had extended during the ceremony and every minute since. “No,” he said.
Vivian simply nodded.
She clicked off the tasseled lamp on her nightstand and slid beneath the covers. Moonlight slanted between the drapes, drawing a line across the carpet and over the fluffy down bedding. The room was relatively spacious, by Manhattan standards, the decor elegant in soft yellow and cobalt blue. She could understand why Gene had chosen it for their first intimate encounter. Their first night of marital bliss.
She lay there for several minutes, clasping the pressed sheets covering her chest. From the hallway came the laughter of a couple passing by the door, an enviously happy sound. Then it went quiet, save for the city noises below. It was the sort of quiet that could turn a person mad.
At last, Vivian rotated her head toward Gene. Her groom, her husband. The pillow rustled like cellophane in her ear.
“Gene,” she said, before considering what would follow. There was so much to say, but with endless doubts of how to phrase it.
“Does anyone else know?” he said.
It took her a second to comprehend the question. “No. Agent Gerard is the only one I’ve told about Isaak.”
“What about the baby?”
How stupid of her. Naturally, that’s what he’d meant. “No one but the doctor knows,” she assured him. “And now you.”
Gene angled his eyes in her direction. She strained to read the emotion beneath them, veiled by the dimness. “For now we keep it that way,” he told her. “And the secret of its father, that stays with us for good.”
She nodded and whispered, “Of course.”
His gaze lingered over her face. It already seemed an eternity since he had truly looked at her. After a notable stillness, she uncurled her stiffened fingers. She edged them over to touch his shoulder, needing even scant reassurance that he did not despise her.
Barely had she brushed his skin when he rolled the other way.
That’s how they remained through the long hours of night, together in their solitude, both grieving over a life that would never be theirs.
57
Everything had changed in a day.
The custody case had been officially dropped, releasing Audra from the bindings of a darkly tenuous future. She and Jack could at last continue on a path with promise, the fresh start they would launch together.
Now, if only Tess would share her enthusiasm.
“You do realize you don’t absolutely have to move,” she said to Audra, emphatically pointing with a potato chip from lunch. It was the umpteenth time she had stated the reminder since the legal development a week ago.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned it.” Audra put a fifty-cent price sticker on an old purse. She returned it to the spread of garage-sale items covering her bedroom floor, where she and Tess were seated cross-legged.
“Seriously, though. Why would you want to live where people say things like ‘shiesty’ and ‘wicked good’? Those don’t even make sense. It’s like a bad translation of a foreign film.”
Audra smiled, unable to argue. “Well, considering I’ve given notice on the apartment, and I’d actually be employed in Boston, I’d say it’s the best option.”
“Oh, please. Hector would hire you back in a millisecond. I’m not kidding when I tell you the new girl’s weird. Her name should’ve been a clue. Cheyenne. What normal person is named after a city in Wyoming?”
Audra started tagging the pile of baseball caps. “I thought you were the one who recommended her.”
“Yeah, well. She had a good resume. There’s no way I could’ve known she’d talk to every patient in a coochie-coo baby voice.”
“Maybe it’s ... a phase she’s going through.”
“Like how she doesn’t shave? Legs I get, but armpits? That’s plain wrong.”
Although the vision did make Audra wince inside, she aimed for a solution: “So, just don’t look under her arms.”
“I’ve tried. It’s as easy as not watching a train wreck.” Tess picked up another CD and groaned. “Audra, really? You still own Cher’s Greatest Hits?”
Tess had taken the day off and was supposed to be pricing the music and books, but between commentary about work, the East Coast, and every eighties album in the stack, she wasn’t making much progress. Good thing they still had two days until the PTA’s community flea market. Hosted by Grace’s school, it was a convenient way to clear out anything Audra didn’t want to pack for the big move in three weeks, all while supporting a worthy cause.
“Mom?” Jack asked gently from the open door, his arm now free of a cast.
“Yeah, buddy? What is it?”
“Can I get a hundred coins?”
Grace called out from the living room couch: “It only costs two dollars! Then his penguin can buy a jumbo flat-screen TV for his igloo.”
Audra hated spending money on Internet games that trended like pop music hits. But, with her savings mostly intact, there was less need for frugality. Besides, she wasn’t about to discourage any of his positive social interactions.
“I suppose that’s fine,” she said to Jack. “Nothing else though, okay? We don’t need a whole penguin village living in my laptop.”
“ ’Kay,” he replied. Before he turned for the couch, he sported half a smile.
His nightmares were still a regular part of their routine, but Audra hoped the depletion of her anxiety would soon rub off on her son.
Tess waved a CD in the air. “Now, this one I’m keeping. I love the Go-Go’s.” She set the case aside and continued through the pile.
Audra laughed and began to organize board games that Jack
had long outgrown. She was collecting cards for Candy Land when Tess spoke in a secretive tone.
“Hey, you have to tell me. Have you figured out anything about Sean?”
The question pulled Audra’s head up. She hadn’t told Tess about the hayloft, as she still hadn’t processed the encounter, and worried what had given her away. She answered in an equally hushed voice. “What about him?”
“Did you figure out why Jack wanted to find him at the festival?”
Internally Audra sighed, her thoughts redirected. “I’m not sure it happened like that. I think he just . . . recognized Sean from his picture in the paper.”
“Or ... ,” Tess drew out, “he could have been looking for him, but in a different way than you originally thought.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s like in that movie, Sleepless in Seattle. How the boy snuck off to New York, in order to meet some stranger, because he wanted his dad to have a new wife.”
Audra gasped at the revelation. “Ohhh, so you’re saying Jack wants me to have a new wife.”
Tess sat back and rolled her eyes. “Just think about it. When you consider what Jack told you about wanting two people together, maybe that’s his real message. That he wants you to be with someone—like Sean—because he wants you to be happy.”
So finally she can be with him. Granted, it could apply, but Audra doubted that was the case. It was no different from a tarot-card reading: Look hard enough and any prediction could be stretched to fit.
“Tess, if this is another strategy of yours, pushing a romance to keep us from moving, it won’t work. But I do appreciate the effort.”
With a grin, Audra returned to the board game pieces. She wasn’t about to share that Sean had called, asking to see her tomorrow. After all, there would be no chance for a relationship. That’s why she had suggested a coffee shop near the apartment. A public meeting place not only clarified expectations as platonic but would also reduce her own temptations for more. Her goal was to simplify. The day would be complicated enough, as it would be her first trip to her in-laws’ house since the case began.
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