Legacy of the Highlands

by Harriet Schultz

  “You look terrific! You’re so tan! And your hair! It’s gorgeous. I wasn’t sure I’d like it short, but I love it,” Francie exclaimed before choking up with emotion. “I was so worried about you,” she said as she playfully tousled Alex’s spikey hair.

  “It’s wonderful to see you. I missed you soooo much.”

  “Me too, Alex. I know I gave you grief about staying away so long, but seeing you now I guess you were right. It would have been too hard to tackle the apartment and everything else right away. You look like you’re more together…are you really?

  “Yeah, despite today’s major anxiety attack I think I am. I mean there are still times when I cry and have trouble sleeping and can’t even force chocolate down my throat, but that feeling of being broken is slowly going away. The sadness never really leaves and it probably never will, but it’s changed. You know how when you start a new workout your muscles hurt so much you can barely move, but you force yourself to do it anyway? Eventually your muscles adapt and one day the pain isn’t so bad. I’m taking baby steps, but something inside feels different I guess.”

  “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that,” said Francie as she hugged Alex again.

  “I am too, France. Believe me, I am too.” They sat quietly for a while, comfortable with the silence as only friends with a shared history can be.

  When the two women met as twelve-year-olds, Alex had already spent a month in friendless misery after the MacBain family moved from working class Buffalo to Mamaroneck, a New York City suburb. No one had bothered to consult her. She was simply told that her father could earn more as an electrician in wealthy Westchester County than in economically depressed upstate New York and that was that.

  The business prospered in tandem with a local building boom and almost overnight the family had money for things that had been unaffordable, like braces. That’s how Alex met Francie. They’d bonded over a shared hate for metallic smiles and a mutual crush on the rock star handsome orthodontist whose work tortured their fragile adolescent egos, then guided each other through pimples and teenage heartbreak. When Alex met Will, she told her best friend that she’d found the man she was going to marry.

  A few years later, Francie had helped her survive the unimaginable when her father’s sleek new Jaguar crashed into a concrete overpass on a snowy February night as he and her mother sped toward Manhattan, late for a Broadway show. It wasn’t a huge surprise to Alex that her parents’ mangled bodies had blood alcohol levels well beyond the legal limit. A taste for fine wine was one of the byproducts of the senior MacBains’ success, as well as the sense of invincibility that had left their only child parentless at twenty-three.

  “So now that you’re back, will one of your baby steps be a call to Will’s parents?” Francie wondered.

  “God, no. Well…maybe. I can’t stand them, but Will was their kid and I’m sure they’d like to have some of his things.”

  “And you have to find out why his father was so anxious to get in touch with you. Even if you’re not curious, I am. Just do it when you feel less vulnerable. And vodka can’t hurt. Maybe a little chocolate too,” she said and they began to laugh.

  Francie’s personality was as bubbly as champagne and lifted Alex’s mood better than any pharmaceutical. They sprawled on the floor, cushioned by the overstuffed pearl gray pillows that they pulled off the couch and nibbled their way through a bowlful of peanut m & ms.

  “Where are all the yellow ones?” whined Francie eyeing Alex accusingly. “Did you pick them out already?”

  “Ummm, yeah.” Alex grinned at her friend. “Diego’s pilot brought a couple of bags on board for me and I started to eat them on the flight up. You know I always eat m & ms color by color, first the yellow, then the red, the green, the blue, the orange and last, but not least, the brown ones.” She hated when the company began to make special bags at Christmas in red and green since it was no fun to finish half the package in one color before starting on the other.

  “I’ve always loved this apartment,” Francie said dreamily. “Will’s parents may have their faults, but they did okay when they bought this place for the two of you.”

  “Yeah, it is pretty nice,” Alex agreed. She loved the high ceiling with its ornate crown molding and the view of Commonwealth Avenue from the front bay windows. The place owed its character to its first life as an elegant mansion before being converted to three large condos.

  She was bursting to tell Francie the news that Will and Diego were brothers, but she didn’t know if he wanted to keep that private. She’d always wonder how Will would have reacted if the DNA test had turned out differently and Ricardo Navarro had been his biological father and not John Cameron.

  “So now what?” probed Francie interrupting her thoughts. “You know David and I will help you with anything you need to do.”

  “Thanks. I know that.” Alex stood and stretched her arms toward the ceiling before lowering herself back to the floor in a lotus position. Watching her, Francie groaned, “Shit, my legs are too short to ever get them to do that.”

  “But they get you where you want to go, don’t they?” Alex grinned, giving Francie the same response she always had since they were fourteen and Alex had shot up six inches to 5’10” while Francie’s height froze at 5’2”.

  “A minute ago you asked, ‘now what?’ With my life on hold for a few months, there’s so much to do I’m not even sure where to begin. I’ll have to write a zillion thank you notes for donations people made in Will’s memory. And I’ve got to figure out what to do with all of his stuff, but I can’t face that yet. It would make it too final, ya know?” As she spoke, her fingers twisted the sparkling band on her left hand. “And then there are all the details to settle about Will’s estate.” Her eyes began to burn as she fought back tears.

  “It’s good that David’s your lawyer. He’s organized all of that for you and he said it’s no big deal. You’ve been through a horrible time, sweetie, and I think you’re doing great,” Francie said encouragingly.

  Tears began to fall in response to her friend’s kindness. “No sympathy, please. I can’t take it.”

  “I understand. How about this? You can procrastinate about your to-do list for one more day, but right now you’re going to shower and get dressed and then we’ll walk over to the Prudential Center for some major retail therapy. We always have so much fun playing with the makeup at Sephora!”

  Alex was lost in a daydream and didn’t answer. She was still running her fingers over her wedding band.

  “Anybody home?” Francie said as she tapped gently on her friend’s head.

  “Sorry, I tuned out for a minute. Yeah, shopping would be great. Let’s spend lots of money at the Pru.”

  With Alex out of earshot in the shower, Francie called Diego, but his phone went to voicemail. “You get your lying, sorry ass up here as soon as you can. I don’t care what Alex told you, she shouldn’t be here by herself.”

  He returned the call within seconds, panic in his voice. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “For starters, she had a major anxiety attack this morning. I thought I’d have to call 911. You and I knew how hard this was going to be so why aren’t you here with her? You promised me you’d do that.”

  “Is she okay?” he said ignoring Francie’s diatribe. His only concern was Alex.

  “Yes, for now. She’s in the shower so I can’t talk long. I don’t want her to know that you and I have been keeping tabs on her, but you really need to be here, at least for a few days. She’s already stressing out about going through Will’s stuff and seeing the in-laws from hell again and…”

  “She plans to see the Camerons?” He had his own questions for John Cameron since Serge had come across more evidence linking Will’s father to the radical Scottish independence group. He didn’t want Alex to be anywhere near that man. Until he was satisfied that John had nothing to do with Will’s murder, Alex could be a target too. Francie was right. He was an idiot
to send her to Boston alone and unprotected.

  “I can be there this evening. I’ll tell her I had a business meeting in New York and decided to pay her a quick visit. She won’t believe me of course, but I won’t tell her you called me. I’m sorry I dropped the ball.”

  “Good. I’m going to tell David to meet us here for drinks and then we’ll all go out for dinner around seven. Try to make it.” She didn’t wait for his response before ending the call and muttering, “bastard.”

  The phone rang as Alex poured wine for Francie and David that evening.

  “Preciosa,” Diego murmured and Alex imagined him smiling as he used the nickname he’d given her years ago.

  “And hi to you, too,” she replied, the smile in her voice mirroring the grin on her face. “It’s Diego,” she whispered to Francie.

  “Hi, Diego!” Francie shouted loudly enough for him to hear.

  “Is that Francie with you? Tell her I say ‘hi’ back.”

  “I will and you give Luisa my love. I miss her,” said Alex as she pictured the villa. “Are you sipping a mojito in the courtyard?”

  “No, I’m actually in a car and the driver says we’re about five minutes away from your house.”

  “What! You’re here?” She felt lighter than she had in the past twenty-four hours. It had been so much harder to come home than she’d expected.

  “I had to fly up to New York for an unexpected meeting and when I got back on the plane I realized I could be in Boston for dinner. I hope you haven’t eaten yet.”

  Francie and David exchanged a knowing look as they watched Alex throw herself into Diego’s arms. When she turned toward them again her face was flushed. As he released her, he tenderly cupped the side of her face with one hand to study her. “Let me look at you.” His expression became serious as he recalled Francie’s description of Alex’s crippling anxiety attack that morning.

  “What do you mean, ‘let me look at you?’ I’m the same person you said good-bye to twenty-four hours ago.” His obvious concern and her reaction to him made her uncomfortable in front of their audience and she removed his hand from her face.

  “My turn,” Francie said. She stood on her toes to hug him and planted a passionate kiss on his mouth. Then under the cover of protests from her husband and Alex’s laughter she whispered, “thanks for getting here so fast,” then added loudly, “God, Diego, you’re yummy! I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even better looking, but you have.” Coming from another woman, he might have been embarrassed, but Francie said the words with her arm once more wrapped around her man’s waist. David offered a firm handshake, which turned into a back slapping male embrace.

  “Good to see you again,” he said to Diego. “It’s been too long, but keep your hands off my wife!”

  Diego raised his own hands in surrender. “You have my word, but you’re a lucky man to have a woman who kisses like that,” Diego teased as he winked at Francie.

  “How long can you stay?” Alex interrupted.

  “A few days if that’s okay with you. I’ll call the Ritz to reserve a suite.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I have a couple of perfectly good guest rooms. How do you think I’d feel if you went to a hotel after you opened your home to me?

  “Well…” he hesitated, “if you’re sure.”

  “I am. It’s settled.”

  After a few glasses of wine, Alex reminded them that they hadn’t eaten. “I know you’re a white tablecloth, impeccable service kind of guy,” she said turning her attention to Diego, “but it would be fun to go to Quincy Market and graze through the food stalls there. Is that okay?”

  “It’s been years, but that place is fine. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer going someplace quiet, with waiters?”

  “What? You don’t want to serve yourself? God, you are spoiled!” Alex teased.

  “I didn’t say that…I just offered…Díos mío, Alex, give me a break! We Navarros may be used to servants, but I’m far from helpless. I had to carry my own tray when I lived in the dorm that first year of college, didn’t I?”

  David interrupted their playful repartee. “Can we go? I’m starving. We can ride in on the T,” he said as he wrapped his arm possessively around his wife’s waist.

  “Or we can take a taxi,” Diego smoothly countered. “I haven’t been on a subway in years and I’m not sure whether I want to be squashed against a bunch of strangers’ sweaty bodies. Now if it was the damp body of a certain beautiful woman...” he said leering at Alex. The smile he was hoping for appeared on her face.

  “Stop it!” Alex grinned and pushed him away.

  “I’m kidding! Quincy Market sounds great. By all means let’s ride the T.”

  Alex was amused by Diego’s ability to enjoy himself in an atmosphere so different from the chic restaurant he’d taken her to in Miami. They sat on benches at a long wooden table under the historic building’s rotunda and began their meal with thick clam chowder. It was the one course all of them could agree on. They then went their separate ways with instructions to buy four of whatever each wanted. Alex bought pizza, David chose lobster rolls and Francie found a stall with spanokopita and dolmades. “I love Greek food,” she gushed as she set the overloaded tray on the table.

  Diego was gone so long that Alex began to worry. “I’m going to look for him. He must be lost.” But as she rose from her seat, she spotted him carrying a tray with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

  “I found fish tacos! In Boston! There’s this tiny shack in Baja where they make the best ones, but I tasted these and they’re surprisingly good,” he exclaimed. Alex dabbed a blob of white sauce from his lip and was startled to realize that her first instinct had been to lick it off his face. She hoped no one noticed the blush she was sure was there.

  “Dig in,” David suggested unnecessarily.

  By the time they’d finished every last morsel of the eclectic international feast, they were groaning and clutching their stomachs.

  “I think we’d better walk this off,” Alex finally said as she barely stifled a burp. “This was fun. Will used to love this place,” she said as they left the market. Diego draped his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Francie took her friend’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Their silent support was comforting and she was able to think about Will minus the usual crippling sadness. Could it be possible to talk about him and feel pleasure? Maybe Diego was right, and Will would want her to be happy again. She liked to think that he was watching them and cheering her on. The image made her smile.

  “Should we head back to my place for coffee or a drink?” Alex suggested. “We were so busy stuffing our faces back there that we hardly had a chance to talk,” she said, and couldn’t resist adding, “unless you want to stop at Emack and Bolio’s for ice cream. They have a flavor called Serious Chocolate Addiction that’s…”

  “Shut up, Alex, or I’ll throw up. I’m dangerously stuffed and I feel nauseous,” Francie groaned. “Did I really eat pizza, chowder, tacos, spanokopita and lobster?”

  “Killjoy. Fine, no ice cream,” she conceded playfully. Christ, she felt good and she was having fun. Will was dead and she was enjoying herself without feeling guilty...or disloyal.

  They walked toward the Haymarket T station, but continued past it. The night was clear and a breeze off the Atlantic had cooled the summer day’s heat. “May I borrow your husband for a few minutes?” Diego asked Francie as they strolled away from downtown.

  “Sure, but I want him back,” she quipped.

  “Of course,” Diego said as he and David increased their pace.

  “What’s up? What don’t you want the women to hear?” David asked.

  “Alex told me that you’ve stayed in touch with the authorities and they’re no closer to solving Will’s murder than they were right after it happened. I want you to know that I’ve got people looking into it and I’m certain that it won’t take long for us to find out who did this. I know you’re a lawy
er, so I won’t go into the details, but I can assure you that Will’s death will be avenged.”

  “I guessed as much since you’re not the kind of guy who stays on the sidelines as a spectator. But for both our sakes I’m going to forget that we’ve had this conversation. As an officer of the court I can’t know anything about what you might do, but as Will’s friend I’m relieved to hear that someone will get to the bottom of this. I’m sure that makes Alex happy too.”

  “She doesn’t know. When the time is right, I’ll tell her.”

  “Good. If you do anything that could get you arrested, don’t tell me about it, but also know that if I can help in any way, ask.”

  “Thanks, but like you said, it’s best if you maintain your distance.”

  “I will. But my offer stands.”

  “You’re a good man. We should join the ladies. If they ask, all I wanted was your opinion on a legal matter.”

  They headed up Beacon Street and along the Common. The beauty and peace of the Public Garden looked so inviting that Alex suggested they cut through it on the way back to Commonwealth Avenue. As soon as she spotted a bench, she raced to it, sat, kicked off her shoes and ran her feet over the cool, slightly damp grass. “Aah,” she sighed with pleasure. The strappy sandals were killing her feet and she cursed herself for choosing fashion over comfort, but she hadn’t expected a hike.

  “I’m so happy to be with the three people I care most about,” she said as she became aware of the peace she felt for the second time that evening.

  “Do you think you can walk the rest of the way, madam, or shall I carry you?” teased Diego.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I am,” he replied and scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

  A part of her wanted to demand that he put her down, while another reveled in his strength and wanted to cling to him. Her nose picked up the spicy scent of his cologne. Will never wore cologne. This wasn’t Will. “Put me down! Put me down now!” she shrieked as Francie and David cracked up.