"Why do you suppose that is?" Matt asked, looking at Richard.
Richard shook his head, swallowing hard. Christine hated showing her emotions, no one knew that better than him, and he felt helpless. He couldn't go to her. He couldn't put his arms around her. He couldn't comfort her. He couldn't do anything. He could only sit there. "I don't know."
Matt turned to Christine, and was about to ask her next, but Bill intervened. For Christ sake, couldn't he see she was crying. "What difference does it make?" he said. "As long as they do."
Matt smiled. "None. None whatsoever," he said, repeating, "as long as they do."
And Bill just had.
"But humor me," Matt said.
Christine wiped her eyes and they all glanced at each other and laughed. "I think it's because..." she said, hesitating.
When Matt motioned for her to continue, she looked at Richard. "I think it's because in our own way, we can relate to what a person is going through, what Leah was going through. Because when you love something, the way she loved Maple Dale, and you think it's yours..." Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat. "When someone takes that away from you. When someone says it isn't yours anymore..."
Richard swallowed hard.
"Then you have nothing. You don't know what to do. You don't know where to go."
Richard mouthed the words, "I'm sorry." He'd said it before, many, many times. "I'm sorry, Christine."
But sorry didn't take away the pain, not for Christine as least. She wished to God it could. "And if Leah died this way, feeling so helpless, feeling so lost..."
Matt looked at Bill. "What about you? What do you think?"
Bill glanced at Richard, and then Christine and Bethann. "I think we're all afraid of being lost."
"And?"
The lump in Bill's throat made it difficult to speak. He felt bad for Richard. And he felt bad for Christine. For whatever they were going through.
"Do you think because of that then," Matt said, "that we become obligated to help somehow?"
"No." Bill shook his head. "Not obligated. It's just hoping that someone would do the same for you. That if you were lost..."
Richard nodded slowly. "That's it. That someone would do the same for you. One and the same."
* * *
Klaus activated his garage door opener, and once inside, waited for it to close completely before getting out of his car. Someone had been following him, and he'd had to drive around for hours before feeling safe enough to go home.
His house was cozy though, it was his haven, even now as he constantly looked over his shoulder. And in his den, was his favorite chair. Mahogany and leather.
It felt good to be home, so good, and he basked in that feeling for a moment, just sitting there. Then he looked around the room. The windows. He wondered if he'd been successful in losing whoever it was that had been following him, and got up and closed the drapes and poured himself a drink. It burned his throat.
What a day.
He sat back down and leaned forward to take off his shoes, but couldn't bend over far enough to see what he was doing, and ended up kicking them off.
"Who would be following me anyway?"
He stomped his feet in anger, shouting, "Who? Who goddammit! Who?" over and over, again and again and again, until his pulse pounded in his head, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling. His hand curled around his drink. He held it loosely at first, then tightly, loose then tight, loose then tight. He wanted to hurl it across the room. It was his, he could do it, he owned it, but the glass was fine lead crystal, imported, and he bought it to his mouth instead. It burned less now.
His answering machine lay just beyond his fingertips, the correct distance for a change after constantly yelling at his housekeeper about it. Another drink and he turned it on. There were eight messages. Only one interested him. The one from Richard.
"Call me, there's something going on at Maple Dale I need to talk to you about."
"Fuck Maple Dale!" he said. "Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!" And thus said, a smile slowly spread across his face.
"Yeah, that's what I'll do."
He turned his machine off, and walked down the hall to his bedroom. There lay his bed, waiting. His pulse quickened as he ran his eyes over it, welcoming him, reminding him of all the self-gratification, and how good it felt. How precise. How exact.
He undressed quickly and got under the covers. This was going to be the best. The absolute best. The ultimate. Maple Dale was his. He could do anything he wanted to with it. But when he slid his hand down to his erect penis, his anticipation turned to horror.
"Oh my God!"
He hadn't washed his hands.
He'd forgotten.
And they were dirty.
Terribly dirty.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Leah wandered through the woods, clutching Phoenix to her chest. She'd never thought much about death, and had never believed in an afterlife where one would enter through pearly gates adorned with seraphim and cherubim. But she never expected to be this alone either.
Alone, and losing more of herself everyday. She looked down at what was left, and wondered how she could remain standing. But of course. It was Maple Dale. Her precious Maple Dale. Even in her death, she could depend on it. And she still had Phoenix, at least he was alive. Wasn't he? Yes. He had to be, she could hear him purring. So maybe death wasn't so bad. I can live with this, she thought. I can.
She raised her eyes to the sky. What a notion anyway, God. It was just clouds and shades of blue. Clouds that formed vague shapes which dissipated into nothing.
Nothing.
No warmth. No direction. No recognition.
Nothing.
* * *
Richard was about to leave his office for the day, when his secretary buzzed him and announced that Klaus Bukener was there to see him. He glanced at his watch and sighed. He wanted to get home and talk to Christine. "All right, send him in."
Klaus darted his eyes around the room upon entering. "I had to be in the area, so..."
Richard motioned for him to have a seat, and sat back in amazement at how much weight Klaus had gained. He even waddled when he walked. Then, which totally blew Richard's mind, before sitting down the man made the sign of the cross.
The sign of the cross. At first it looked like he was just scratching his forehead, then his chest, and finally both shoulders. All in a flurry. A blur. "So when I got your message on my answering machine." Another sign of the cross. "I wondered what you were trying to pull now."
"I'm not trying to pull anything," Richard said. "I just wanted to let you know what we're doing."
Klaus eyed him suspiciously.
"Last night, Bill and I saw Leah."
Klaus sprang to his feet. "Saw her?! What do you mean you saw her? I knew it! You and that nigger are nuts!"
Never in Richard's life, did the word nigger sound so vulgar. He rose then too, with a hardened gaze, and reached for his briefcase. "Why don't you call me and make an appointment."
"I thought you said it was important!"
"It was, and it is," Richard said, glaring. "But I don't have time for you right now."
Klaus exploded. "You don't have time for me?!" Another sign of the cross. "Who do you think you are?! You know, I've been pretty cooperative with you until now. But if need be..."
Richard slammed his briefcase down on the desk. It sounded like a gun blast. "Don't threaten me, Klaus. Don't even think about threatening me! I'll hang you out to dry. You and the zoning committee. Do you understand?
Klaus took a step back, bumping into the chair, and frightened, swung around to see who was behind him.
No one.
"I uh..." His tone changed. "I'm sorry. Truly I am. And I was out of line, you're right." Another sign of the cross. He wondered how Richard had found out about the zoning board. Who told him? Who hadn't he paid enough? "Please..."
Richard just stood there.
"You said you w
ere going to be doing something at Maple Dale. What? I need to know what?"
Richard drew a deep breath. If only the man weren't so... "I'm bringing my daughter's horse back for a while. We got to talking about it this morning and think it's a good idea. We think it might enable Leah's spirit to..."
Klaus's expression changed. "Did you really see her? I mean really?"
Richard nodded. "Yes. We did. And while I don't plan on getting into this with you right now, we've decided..."
"Who decided? You said we. Who's we?"
Richard hesitated. The man was crossing himself again.
"Who?"
Richard just looked at him a second. "My daughter, Christine and Bill, and I have since talked to Walter and..."
"Who else?" Klaus asked, before Richard could finish. "Who else? Have you talked to someone else?"
"Yes," Richard said, shaking his head in amazement. "A friend of mine. Matt Campbell."
Klaus gasped. "Matt Campbell?"
Richard nodded. "Yes. Why? Do you know him?"
"No." Sign of the cross. "I never heard of him."
* * *
Richard's being late reminded Christine of all the other times he'd been late, back when he used to call with excuses. Excuses she'd believed. It seemed so long ago, and yet as if it were yesterday. When Bethann came into the kitchen, she found her mother staring painfully out the window.
"Did D-D-Dad call?"
Christine forced a smile, one that said no but that there's nothing to worry about, and Bethann headed for the back door. "I'm g-g-gonna take Shad for a w-w-walk." He wagged his tail at her side. "He w-w-won't let me b-be."
"Don't be long. It's getting dark."
Bethann told her she was only going as far as the corner, and on the way back, was surprised to see her mother out by the wood pile.
"Come grab an armful," Christine called to her. "We'll make a fire."
"A f-f-fire?" Bethann's eyes widened. "Do y-y-you know h-h-how?"
Christine started past her with a hefty bundle. "Sure, come on. How hard can it be anyway?"
Bethann laughed, and between the two of them, they managed. Richard came home and found them stretched out in front of it on the floor in the den with Shad.
"Where's the camera?" he teased. "We're talking Christmas cards here."
Christine smiled and sat up, yawning as Bethann chuckled. "Neat, h-h-huh?"
Richard nodded and sat down, gazing at Christine. "Beautiful. Just beautiful."
"We g-g-got tired of waiting f-f-for you Where w-w-were you? Why d-d-didn't you c-call?"
Richard smiled. Oh, to be young again and so direct. "Klaus came in to see me right as I was getting ready to leave."
Shad got up and meandered over to rest his head on Richard's knee. "And how are you today?" Richard asked.
Shad wagged his tail.
"You don't say?"
Christine smiled, watching them, but glanced away when Richard looked up. "We were getting worried."
"I'm sorry. I should've called."
Christine shrugged, with tears suddenly welling up in her eyes, and Richard turned to Bethann. "Get me something to drink, honey," he said, and when she bounced out of the room, "Christine..."
"I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes. "I seem to be doing this a lot lately. But I was just thinking..." She hesitated. "I was thinking about how you used to always call, which I thought was so considerate, when all along..."
Richard swallowed hard.
"And now you don't call, and..."
Richard shook his head. "I'll never hurt you like that again, Christine. I promise."
"I know," she said. "I know."
When Bethann returned with a glass of iced tea, Christine managed to sound in complete control, said she was going to check on dinner, and left the room.
A minute later, Matt tapped on the kitchen door. "Me again," he said. "Can Richard come out to play?"
Christine dried up what was left of her tears. "No, we're just about to eat. Would you like to join us? We're having chili."
"I don't know," he said. Big decision. "That depends. Did you use lean meat?"
"Yes."
"Then I'd love to," Matt said, lifting the lid to see for himself. "But only three quarters of a cup."
Christine rolled her eyes. "Would you like me to measure it?"
"If you don't mind."
Christine laughed.
* * *
After dinner, and when Christine and Bethann left the kitchen, Richard told Matt about his meeting with Klaus, strange behavior included.
"Did he and Leah get along?" Matt asked.
"I don't know. It's obvious she got along well with his father, considering the provision he made for her in his will. But him, I don't know. Why?"
"No reason." Matt shrugged. "I was just curious."
Richard smiled. Just curious. "So anyway, it's all set. Persian Son'll be back tomorrow."
Matt nodded and walking over to leave then, stopped at the door. "Keep me posted."
Richard said he would, and Matt studied him for a moment. "Why don't you take a walk with me. You look like you could use some fresh air."
Richard called to Christine and told her he'd be back in a little while. They took Shad with them, and walked in silence for some time.
"How's Christine?" Matt asked.
Richard glanced at him. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."
Matt smiled faintly. He wished he could. "I think this is taking a toll on her. It's difficult enough for anyone to handle, but she's relating to Leah as a woman. A woman who died lonely."
Richard stared down at the sidewalk. "Is she ever going to forgive me, Matt?"
"I don't know. It's hard to say. Have you forgiven yourself?"
Richard shook his head.
"Then why are you expecting something from her, that you yourself..."
"I love her, Matt."
"She knows that, Richard."
"And I keep trying to show her that I'll never do anything like that again. But at the same time, she can't forget." Richard swallowed hard. "She can't. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me."
"And what does she see when she looks at you?" Matt asked. "What does she see in your eyes?"
Richard's voice cracked. "A man that hurt her. A man that screwed up."
"Right," Matt said softly. "A constant reminder."
Richard stared out into the night.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Richard nodded.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
When Richard got back to the house, he let Shad in, and sat down on the porch and gazed up at the stars. Christine checked on him after a while.
"What are you doing?"
He shrugged. "Just thinking."
"Okay." She smiled and started to shut the door.
"Christine..."
She hesitated.
"Why don't you come sit with me?"
"It's cold out here."
"I'll give you my jacket."
She laughed. "That's not necessary." She had one by the door, and put it on as she came out and sat down.
They were quiet for a few minutes. "Thinking about Maple Dale?" she asked.
Richard shook his head. "No, I was thinking about us."
Christine stared down at her hands.
"I was thinking about how I want back in your life," he said.
Tears welled up in Christine's eyes, and she moved to get up, but he stopped her. "I don't want to live like this anymore, Christine. I can't."
She nodded. Neither could she. "I keep trying. I'm trying so hard. If only I could forget..."
"You can't, Christine. You can't. And neither can I. But that has to say something too. Only for God sake, don't let it say that we..." Richard's voice trembled. "I love you, Christine.” He turned her face to his, his voice but a whisper now. "Let me back in your life."
Time stood still as he searched her eyes, the tears spilling down her cheek
s. The pain. The anguish. Forgiveness. She nodded then, smiling faintly, and he leaned toward her slowly and kissed her, for the first time in fourteen months.
"I love you, Richard," she said.
He kissed her again.
"And I'm sorry too."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Leah watched as Maple Dale flourished, and so enjoyed herself, that at times she even forgot about being dead. She was like a child at a fair, a circus, gazing, taking everything in as she followed Bill from one event to the next. She liked being near him. He was always humming, and he was meticulous in everything he did. This pleased her greatly, his being as fussy as she was about the way things were done. But more importantly, he made her feel safe.
Phoenix had also taken a liking to him, and although he normally kept his distance, Leah would have to scold him occasionally when he came too close. Nothing could hurt her anymore, especially this black man, but Phoenix was alive and still needed to be cautious.
Persian Son's arrival was a dream come true. She loved watching him act up in the paddock. Bill seemed to get a kick out of it too, though he wasn't quite comfortable with him yet. She could see that. But he was kind, and that was more important. Respect and kindness. Horses sense that.
* * *
With Thanksgiving only a few weeks away, the onset of what Matt with tongue-in-cheek referred to as the holiday rush, jogging time was getting scarce. He took it whenever he could, and was just about to sneak out between appointments for a few extra miles, when a large figure of a man came in the door, backwards.
Hmph, Matt thought.
The man glanced over his shoulder, and when the door closed, turned. "You Dr. Campbell?"
Matt nodded. The man was a wreck.
"I'm Klaus Bukener."
Obviously.
"We need to talk."
Matt glanced at his secretary's empty desk. It was lunch time.
"I don't need an appointment," Klaus said. "This won't take long."
Matt showed him into his office.
"Can you leave the door open?"
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