“Hi, it’s Nate. I was worried and I just wanted to check on you. Are you fully recovered from your discoveries of yesterday?”
Clare opened her mouth but the only sound to come out was a slight choking laugh at the coincidence of this call and her latest find.
“Hello, Clare?” came Nate’s deep voice. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” she managed to get out. She coughed to clear her throat and then continued. “I’m here.”
“I don’t like how you sound. Is everything all right?”
“No.” As soon as the word was out she wanted to snatch it back. “Sorry. It’s one of those days. I’m really fine.”
“Is it the box? After you left, I wondered if I should have waited before giving it to you. You already had a great deal to absorb.”
“You must be psychic.” She shook her head at the connection they’d made in such a short time. “I haven’t even opened the box. I just finished reading the letter that was taped on top. It seems your father and Ruth’s brother knew who and where I was all these years.”
Silence. Then he said, “If you’re upset by the letter I don’t think you should open the box when you’re all alone. Erika’s gone to the library for her knitting class. I’m just on my way out and can be there in ten minutes.”
“You don’t have to come, Nate. I’m really okay.”
“Well you don’t sound it. Besides you’re not supposed to argue with the man you’re trying to interview.”
Before she could comment, he disconnected. She stared at the phone in her hand torn between anger and another unidentifiable emotion, then flipped it closed and put it inside her purse. For some reason she felt a sense of relief that he was coming. It made no sense since she barely knew the man. Walking to the bedroom, she checked the mirror, annoyed that it should matter how she looked. She brushed her hair, pulled it back, and caught it in a claw barrette. Picking up her lipstick, she made a face at herself in the mirror and put it back down on the dresser. This wasn’t a date, after all.
Ten minutes later she heard a car drive into the parking area above the cottage. A car door closed and she heard footsteps coming down the path. She opened the door and smiled as Nate climbed the steps to the porch. A contrast in styles, he wore a button-down blue oxford cloth shirt tucked neatly into leather belted khaki shorts, no socks, and scuffed boat shoes. He removed his sunglasses as he approached, sharp blue eyes steady as he studied her face.
“Do I pass muster?” she asked as she led the way into the cottage.
“Your face is flushed, but you look good.” He stopped inside the doorway and looked around. “Nice place. Looks homey.” He spotted the box on the coffee table and turned to face her. “What was in the letter that upset you?”
Clare went over to the table and picked up the letter. She handed it to him and then watched as he read it. She didn’t know if he would understand.
“Did you know Ruth’s brother, Judge Shannon?” she asked.
“Only slightly, although I did know that he and my father were great friends. The judge lived in Minneapolis for many years after he moved from Grand Rapids. He came back here frequently in the summer to do some fishing. Then he moved to Chicago, and I don’t recall seeing him again.”
“Rose and I saw him all the time. We were as much a part of the Shannon family as if we were actually related. The judge’s daughter Gail is still my best friend. And it stuns me that he knew all along that my whole life was a lie.”
“You see it as a betrayal,” Nate said, surprising her with his perception. “But it doesn’t have to be that. It’s obvious from the letter that Rose didn’t want you to know about your past and he was respecting her wishes. I think everyone was trying to work in your best interests, to protect you.”
“I don’t feel protected.” She heard the petulant tone in her voice. “I’m sorry, Nate, for dumping on you. I sound like a woman with raging PMS.”
“I’ve had many a date like that,” he said.
His humor brought her back to a more balanced emotional level. “I appreciate your putting up with me. You never could have guessed what you were getting into when you agreed to an interview.”
“I’m at my worst around the press, so this is a pleasant reminder that the whole world doesn’t revolve around me and my reclusive state. Besides, after yesterday, I was concerned about you. I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing giving you the box and your father’s effects. When I called you seemed distressed over the letter and I thought it might help to talk to someone.”
“It was your timing that threw me. I’d just opened the letter and was furious with Rose, Judge Owen, and anyone else I could think of.” She took the letter and put it on the counter, then reached out and patted his arm. “Although it wasn’t necessary, I do appreciate your coming.”
“I don’t mean to intrude in your personal life. I can stand outside while you open it.”
“You could press your nose to the window and watch from a distance. Is that the idea?” Her mouth widened in a grin as she caught the twinkle in his eye.
“That did sound rather pathetic. Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m curious as hell.”
“Now we’re getting at the truth. I’m actually happy to have you here. I had worked myself into a state when you called. It’s surprising how much better I feel just talking about it.” She made a face. “And why are we standing in the middle of the room. Come on outside and we’ll take a look at the mystery box.”
She picked up the cardboard box and opened the back door, leading the way out to the porch. Although it had started out as a gloomy day, the sun had broken through and the lake was bathed in sunlight. She sniffed the air, grateful for the breeze since she had noted the thermometer beside the door was close to ninety. Setting the box on the wicker table, she pointed Nate to a chair and took the other one.
Nate reached in his pocket for a small knife, opened it and, after Clare nodded permission, used it to cut the sealing tape on thebox. Clare folded back the flaps. Inside was a round red satin case. She caught her breath in surprise, unprepared for the wave of emotion that washed over her. She reached inside and took out the jewelry case and put it in her lap. Her fingers stroked the delicate embroidery.
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Nate said, leaning toward her in concern. “Do you recognize it?”
“Yes. It’s identical to the one on the top of the dresser in the bedroom,” she said. Her voice shook slightly and she smiled to let him know that she was all right. “Except this one is red. The one I have is blue. It belonged to Rose. I think this one belonged to Lily.”
“Since they were sisters it makes perfect sense that they would have matching things. Perhaps they got them as Christmas presents. Or bought them when they were together. In any case, it’s beautiful.”
“I must have seen it as a child. I’d always loved Rose’s, but I remember thinking it would be prettier in red.”
She unzipped the case and folded back the top. Inside was a small matching drawstring bag and a thick envelope. She put the envelope on the table. Pulling out the satin bag, she returned the jewelry case to the cardboard box. She untied the satin cords at the neck of the bag and emptied the contents onto the surface of the table. There was a ring, a teething ring, and a string of pearls.
“It must be my mother’s wedding ring,” she exclaimed as she picked up the ring. It was a simple platinum band about a quarter of an inch wide. “There’s a date inside. Can you read it?”
She thrust the ring at Nate, who rocked it back and forth in the sunlight. “It says: 4/2/78. April second, nineteen seventyeight,” he said, handing it back.
Automatically she slid it onto her ring finger. It jammed at the knuckle. “She must have had small hands.”
She held her hand up, ring wedged at the knuckle. Her right hand cupped the left and she stroked the ring with her thumb. If she hoped to feel some vibration she was disappointed. However, she did feel a sense of comfort knowi
ng one more piece of the puzzle. She now knew her parents wedding date. That at least was something.
Slowly she withdrew the ring and put it back on the table. Next she picked up the teething ring. It was a circle of grayish white bone with a flat silver bell. On one side of the bell was a crown and the words: OLDKINGCOLE. Despite the dark tarnish on the other side of the bell, she could make out the initials ACN.
“My full name is Abigail Clare Newton.”
“I prefer Clare,” Nate said. “It’s an old fashioned kind of name. You must have been a voracious little thing. Look at the teeth marks on the bell.”
Clare smiled as she examined the dents on the surface. The circle of bone was smooth to the touch as she turned it in her hand. She set it on the table beside the ring and picked up the string of pearls. Pulling them through her fingers, she admired the soft rose color and the high luster of the strand. She raised them to her mouth and rubbed the pearls across her front teeth.
“What are you doing?” Nate asked.
“I wanted to know if they were real or imitation.”
“And that tells you?”
Clare chuckled. “Actually it does. Imitation pearls are highly polished to give them a shine. When you rub them across your teeth they feel smooth. Natural pearls or cultured pearls will feel gritty because of the nacre that forms them. It’s a sort of crystal substance. I think that’s what makes the texture rough.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
“My ex-fiancé was going to buy me some pearls so we went to a jeweler and he gave us a quick lesson.” Clare slid the pearls back and forth between her fingers. “It was fascinating. Some foreign object gets inside the oyster and, to protect itself, the oyster secretes a substance called nacre around the irritant. Year after year and layer after layer until it’s totally encased.”
“No wonder they’re so expensive. And what is your opinion on these pearls?”
“Definitely not imitation.”
She handed him the strand and, with a sheepish laugh, he raised them to his mouth. Cautiously he rubbed them against his teeth, his forehead puckered in concentration. His eyes widened.
“You really can feel the grit. So these are natural pearls?”
“Natural or cultured. The only difference is that with a cultured pearl someone actually inserts something into the oyster to begin the process.”
“With this kind of information, I’ll be a hit at the next cocktail party I go to.” He reached in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief. Carefully he wiped the pearls and handed them back to Clare. “Assuming these were your mother’s, you will have something beautiful to wear to remind you of her.”
Clare stared down at the pearls in her hand. They felt warm as if they retained the body heat of the wearer. She didn’t recall ever seeing them before, but Nate was right that they would be a lovely reminder of her mother. Gently she placed them on the table.
“How strange that I was dreading opening this box. In my own mind, I felt like Pandora releasing all the evils of mankind. You can see how self-absorbed I’ve become.”
She picked up the ring, the pearls, and the teething ring and put them back into the drawstring bag. She put the bag back inside thejewelry case then turned her attention to the envelope. She opened the flap and was excited to find a packet of photographs. Carefully she took them out, holding the stack in her hand. The top one was a formal picture of a baby, lying on her stomach on a blanket, wearing what looked like a christening dress. She turned it over. Written on the back was a date.
“Nineteen seventyeight. I was born in December. My parents were married in April so I was born nine months later. It must be me,” Clare said, fingers shaking as she turned the picture so that Nate could see it. “I’m not positive, because I’ve never seen any of my baby pictures.”
“What fine, plump cheeks you had,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’ve lost that chipmunk look. Even as an infant you had fantastic eyes. Now they’re a striking green. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”
Heat rose to her cheeks and she looked sideways at Nate not sure how to take his compliment.
“You don’t have to look so surprised,” he said. “You must have felt the connection when we met. I think we were both set to dislike each other so it was strange how quickly we seemed to get along. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
Clare studied his face, wondering what it was about him that made her trust him so completely. “I know I feel totally comfortable talking to you. It’s as if we’re old friends.”
“That’ll do for a start.” His mouth twisted into a grin. “We’ll save this discussion for another time. Right now I’d like to look at the rest of the pictures.”
Clare dealt the pictures onto the table as if they were cards. There were a dozen or more of them. Several were of Lily holding the baby Clare. Some pictures were of Clare alone. Two of the pictures showed Clare sitting on her father’s lap. Another showed Jimmy holding her while she was playing with his bearded face.
“You know my father,” she said. “And this one is Rose, Lily’s sister, the woman who raised me. It’s strange seeing her so young.”
“She looks very serious. How much age difference was there between them?”
“Almost twelve years.”
Clare turned each of the pictures over, but aside from the christening picture, the only other picture to have a date was a single picture of her parents. Her father was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and a blue, black, and white striped tie. He had a small white carnation on his lapel. Her mother’s dress was white, a square-necked embroidered bodice above a soft full skirt.
“This says nineteen seventyeight too. I wonder if it’s their wedding picture.”
Nate pointed. “Look at her neck, Clare.”
Clare peered closer and saw that her mother was wearing a string of pearls. Suddenly the emotion she had been missing, welled up inside her. Having the picture in her hand gave a reality to the jewelry she’d been holding just moments before. As her vision blurred, she blinked rapidly trying to keep from crying. She dropped the picture on the table and covered her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks.
Strong arms encircled her and she rested her forehead on Nate’s chest as he leaned toward her. He patted her awkwardly, seeming to be in no hurry for her to get control of her emotions. After a minute or two, Clare’s tears eased. He released her as if he realized her storm of emotion was over. Without a word he handed her the handkerchief he’d used to wipe off the pearls.
“I’m so sorry,” Clare said as she brushed away her tears. “Ever since I met you, I’ve done nothing but embarrass myself.”
Nate laughed, a great full-bodied sound. When she looked at him, curious as to his reaction, he began to laugh harder. Eventually he stopped, his face flushed in amusement.
“I’m sorry to laugh, but I talked to your boss on Tuesday.. .”
“You talked to Ann?” Clare interrupted. “Were you trying to get out of the interview?”
“Yes,” he admitted sheepishly. “During our conversation, she was describing how nice you were and I made several facetious commentsand ended by saying you’d probably be swooning on my doorstep.”
Clare’s lips quivered with the effort to hold back a smile. “I can’t decide if I should be insulted or amused.”
“Stick with amused,” he said. “As soon as I met you any reason that I had for wanting to escape the interview flew out of my head. Now I’m jumping at any excuse to see you.”
Unprepared for the warmth of his words and the look in his eyes, Clare tried to keep her comments impersonal. “I’m glad you came over this morning.”
Nate’s eyes glinted with a mischievous light as he sat back in his chair. He opened his mouth to make a comment, then shook his head as if he’d thought better of it. “So what got to you just now?”
“It’s like all of a sudden, Lily became a real person. Up until now she’s just been a picture in the n
ewspaper.”
“That’s a good thing. I think it’s because you’re coming to terms with your real identity.”
“How strange. After twenty-nine years to find your background is totally different than you imagined it.” After a final swipe of her eyes, Clare stuffed the handkerchief in her pocket. “I don’t feel different exactly. Maybe freer is the word I’m looking for. I never felt as if I fit in. As if I was somehow different from the other children I played and went to school with.”
Nate picked up the picture of Rose, studying it closely. “What was your childhood like?”
Clare looked out over the lake, thinking back. “I can’t say I had an unhappy childhood. I assume it was like everyone else’s. Lots of good times and occasional bad times. Rose was very strict. I had the feeling that I never came up to her expectations. When I got into dating she reminded me constantly about the difference between good girls and bad girls.”
“Rose was trying to mold you into the child she wanted you to be.”
“Don’t get me wrong. She was never unloving or abusive. I don’t think she knew how to express her emotions. She was uncomfortable with hugging or any display of affection. Luckily we saw a lot of Judge Shannon’s family. They were a funny, noisy, and passionate family. Gail’s mother was very dramatic. Sweeping usup into a huge embrace for no reason at all except that she loved having us all underfoot.”
“Sounds like my mother. Strong, opinionated, and very passionate.” Nate chuckled. “Erika and I always look forward to her visits and then are totally exhausted by the time she returns to Florida.”
“Toobad she’s so far away. I would have thought she’d want to be here after your father died. Close to you.”
Nate laughed, pulling at his ear sheepishly. “Actually she and my dad moved down there in order to get away from me.”
“And Erika?”
“Especially Erika.”
“But why?” At his hesitation, she immediately held up her handto stop his reply. “Wait. It’s really none of my business.”
“What kind of a reporter are you?” he asked, his mouth turning up in a grin. “You’re supposed to ask probing questions.”
Conspiracy of Silence Page 13