A Slight Change of Plan

by Dee Ernst

  Sonia crossed over and stood in front of the TV. “Mrs. Freemont, I’m from the state. The Division of Youth and Family Services. About your complaint.”

  Mom looked up, craned her neck to look back at me, then addressed Sonia. “Good. About time you showed up.”

  “Mrs. Freemont, you called us only two days ago.”

  “Well, it feels a lot longer when you’re held against your will. I want to go home.”

  Sonia crouched down in front of her. “Mrs. Freemont, it doesn’t appear that you were entirely honest in some of your statements. Is it true that the rehab center would not release you to go home alone?”

  Mom sniffed. “They wanted me to stay there, charge me six hundred dollars a day to live in a tiny room and eat crappy food. I wasn’t going to let them take any more of my money.”

  “But you had to live somewhere else, right? Is that what they said? Is your daughter trying to find you an assisted living place up here?”

  “Well, she says she is. I don’t know how hard she’s trying. Why should she? She’s got me trapped down here.”

  “In the dungeon,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “Exactly,” Mom said.

  Sonia shook her head. “Seriously, Mrs. Freemont, this may be one room, but it’s bigger than my apartment. And brighter. With better carpet.”

  Mom wasn’t going down without a fight. “I can’t even cook for myself,” she groused.

  Sonia looked pointedly at the steaming cup and glanced around. “A microwave and a toaster oven?”

  “And how am I supposed to roast a turkey in that little thing?”

  Sonia looked at me. “I’ll need the name and contact person at the hospital and the rehab center. I will need to confirm your story,” she said to me. She shook Mom’s hand. “Mrs. Freemont, I will finish up my investigation and send you a full report. But I think I can honestly say that, as of right now, I can find no proof of abuse, neglect, or intentional cruelty.”

  Mom glared, then turned back to the television.

  I went back upstairs, found all the paperwork from the nursing home, and Sonia wrote everything down. Then she looked at me. “How is she doing?”

  “I don’t know. She shattered a mug in the microwave. We think she set the timer for thirty minutes instead of three. And she took a shower the other night, got out, got into bed, and left the water running. I had to go down and turn it off. I figure it was on at least two hours.”

  Sonia sighed. “Any luck finding her a place?”

  “My sister is doing the looking. So far, it’s tough. She’d be a Medicare bed, and those are hard to find.”

  Sonia took out her card and wrote down a few names. “Call these places. They’re a bit off the beaten path, but I’d put my own mother in any of them. And I would certainly put your mother in one. As soon as is humanly possible.”

  I cracked a smile. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll have to file my report, but I think you’re safe.”

  “You mean you’re not going to have to remove my mother from her current situation?”

  “No.”

  “Damn.”

  Laura was not amused. “She called DYFS on you? You just had the phone installed Monday. It must have been her very first call. Is she crazy?”

  “Laura, honestly, after all these years, how can you ask that question? The woman who came gave me the names of a few places. Can you check them out?” I rattled off the names. “Okay, I’ve gotta go. Oh, and by the way? Jake and I have a date next week.”

  “Again? Way to go, Kate.”

  “I know. I’m nervous. I’m trying hard not to have any expectations, but it’s hard to forget about two years of perfect happiness, even if it was thirty years ago.”

  “Perfect happiness? Wow, that’s pretty strong.”

  “Maybe. Later.”

  I’d spent lots of Friday nights alone. It had never bothered me. More recently, I wasn’t spending any nights alone. Mom was around. So were Sam and Alisa. But Sam and Alisa were staying in on Friday night, and asked me why didn’t I give somebody a call and get out of the house?

  So I called Edward Pendergast. After all, he had been kind enough to offer to sit in a car with me for hours to get my mother. The least I could do was repay his kind thoughts. At least, that’s what the logical side to my brain was saying. The other side just wanted his company, because he was charming and smart and had sparked a bit of something in me. He was back from the wilds of Greenwich, and would be happy to have dinner with me, as long as I didn’t mind the restaurant in his hotel.

  He was staying at the Westin in Morristown, a very classy hotel that just happened to have an amazing restaurant attached to it. I’d been to it a few times before. Not only was the food great, but going there meant getting dressed up just a little, and after one week of my mother, I really needed a distraction.

  Edward looked so polished and suave that I was disappointed he didn’t have a white silk scarf carelessly tossed around his neck. He drank gin, could raise just one eyebrow at a time, and for some reason, the waitstaff was falling over one another to cater to his every whim.

  “So, you must be a great tipper,” I finally said, “or have you decided to buy the hotel?”

  He chuckled. I hadn’t ever heard him actually laugh out loud. He was way too cool for that. “Maybe they know I’m a guest,” he offered.

  “No. I think it’s the accent. When people hear a posh accent like yours, they automatically assume you’re not only rich, but you probably know the queen. And anyone who knows the queen gets treated pretty well.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know Her Highness. And I don’t think I’m all that rich. Most of my assets are not, as they say, fluid. And the way the economy in Europe is right now, I could be in the poorhouse next week.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  He sipped gin. “I was married to Elaine for six years. It will take more than a major economic collapse to get me to break into a sweat.”

  “About that. How on earth did someone like you end up with Elaine?”

  He shrugged. “I’d like to say I was under the influence of a complete mind-body takeover by a sadistic alien life force, but the truth is, she was beautiful. I hear she still is. I was a college senior, my parents kept telling me it was time to settle down, and she was right in front of me. And I must say, we were very happy in the beginning. And there’s Philip, who is my joy. Of course, we were entirely unsuited for each other, but I didn’t find that out until later. Let’s face it, most twenty-two-year-old men tend to make a few mistakes at that age.”

  I thought of Jake and nodded. “I can vouch for that. Is there someone in your life right now? Over in England?”

  “No. There was a lovely lady, but she passed away last year. Cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry, Edward.”

  “I should have married her. But once she found out how sick she was, she wouldn’t let me. She said she wouldn’t take a ‘pity ring.’ It wouldn’t have been that, because I would have been very happy with her had she been my wife. How about you?”

  “I’ve just reconnected with my former college sweetheart. It’s been over thirty years. I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is about being with him in the now, or remembering the then.”

  “That’s a very tricky one. When do you think you’ll decide?”

  “Well, we’ve decided to start from scratch. We’re going on our first official date next week.”

  “Ah, then it looks like I got a bit of a jump on him, then, doesn’t it?”

  I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I felt right then, but it was kind of a tingle, kind of a rush of blood to the head. The same sort of thing that made me smile the very first time I saw him.

  “Maybe you have,” I said.

  He smiled. “Do you feel like a walk? I found the most wonderful thing.”

  “Really? Here in Morristown? Lead the way.”

  We stopped in the parking lot so I cou
ld change my heels for canvas flats. Now, as we walked together, we were the same height. It was a cool night, and a full moon was starting to fill the sky.

  “This is a fabulous neighborhood, by the way,” he said.

  I nodded in agreement. The houses here were older brick and Tudor-style homes set back from the road, all with wide lawns and swept sidewalks. In the bright moonlight, the street looked like something from a picture book.

  “So, how did you find whatever we’re going to see?” I asked.

  “Just walking. But when I saw it, I immediately thought that, under a moonlit sky, it would be spectacular. I’m hoping I’m right, because I’d love to share it with you.”

  I smiled. “We’re heading toward the Ford Mansion, you know. Where Washington stayed during the Revolution?”

  “Yes. Quite the historic little town, this is. Plaques commemorating our defeat all over the place.”

  “I’m so glad you’re being gracious about it.”

  The street was quiet except for the drone of crickets. A statue of Washington mounted on his horse stood in the middle of the road, and the moonlight was like a beacon on the black figure. I stopped and stared. Some trick of the shadows made the statue seem alive.

  “Oh my. I’ve been by hundreds of times, even at night. It’s amazing.”

  Edward bounced on the balls of his feet. “Isn’t it? If you approach from this side, the artificial spotlight there isn’t as obvious. But the real surprise is behind you.”

  I turned, and found myself looking at the Ford Mansion.

  The mansion itself was a spare white colonial, two stories, shuttered, with three chimneys. I’d been through it with all my kids on various school trips, and had always admired its simplicity and grace. But tonight, it was bathed in moonlight, and the glass panes glinted, and the shadows from the trees danced across its wide, pale face. It looked enchanted.

  “Edward, I never imagined it could look like this.”

  “I’m so glad you can appreciate it. I knew it would look like this, almost surreal. I’d love to paint it. Would I get in trouble, do you think, if I set up an easel on the front lawn?”

  “You paint?”

  He shrugged. “I dabble.”

  We stood there for a few minutes longer. A couple of cars drove by, and a police siren cut through the quiet as we turned to walk back to the hotel.

  “Thank you,” I said. “This was a real treat.”

  “The treat was mine. Even the smallest pleasures in life are so much more meaningful when you can share them with someone, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I’ve always thought that.”

  “Ah, I knew we were kindred spirits.” He glanced at me. “You do realize that there’s something happening here, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you think we should do about it?”

  I shook my head. “Oh, Edward. I have absolutely no idea.”

  I spent the entire weekend thinking about Jake and Edward. Edward knew about Jake. Should I tell Jake about Edward? Did I need to? Was it written in that dating guidebook somewhere that on a first official date, full disclosure was expected? By Monday morning, I decided that as appealing as Edward was, he was just visiting, and would be returning to England in a matter of months, and I should focus on the person who had a chance of maybe, just maybe, being in my life for the long haul.

  Jake and I met at Arthur’s.

  “We’re supposed to be having coffee first,” he reminded me as we sat at the bar.

  “I know. But I can’t drink caffeine this late in the day. If I do, I’ll be up all night, and I have trouble enough sleeping.”

  He had come over straight from work, and was in a beautifully cut suit that hid his thickened waist and made him look much younger. It was early, but there were a few women at the bar who turned to give him the once-over. He didn’t appear to notice. He’d always been like that, completely unaware of his own good looks.

  We ordered, a scotch for him and wine for me. “I have trouble sleeping most nights, too,” he said. “I usually wake myself up snoring.”

  “I either have to pee, or a hot flash sets in and I have to stand in front of the open refrigerator.”

  He laughed. “Kate, how did we get old?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Jake. I swear, I never saw it coming.” I took a long sip of wine. “So, tell me about your company. What, exactly, do you do? I assume because you’re on Wall Street you do banking or finance?”

  “No. We’re on Wall Street because the owner makes so much money, he can be wherever he wants. Nesco designs and manufactures marine navigational equipment.”

  “Do you mean marine as in boats, or marines as in G.I. Joe?”

  “Boats, yachts, ocean liners, we cover it all. About twelve years ago, Steve Nessman patented a system so far ahead of the pack that his small private company exploded. He hired me to make sure he didn’t drown in overexpansion. It was actually a fight, the first five years, to make sure we didn’t grow too quickly. Steve went from offices and a plant in a warehouse in Teaneck to Wall Street and four manufacturing facilities across the country. I helped him get there. I know nothing about boats, except how to drive them. But I know how to manage a business. That, as they say, is why they pay me the big bucks.”

  “How big?”

  “Last year I made twelve million, before bonuses.”

  “Dollars?”

  He grinned. “Honestly, for a company with the assets that Nesco has, I’m incredibly underpaid. But Steve’s a great guy to work for. He doesn’t make much more than I do. All his employees are well paid with terrific benefits. The profits go right back into research and development. I have shares in the company, and complete access to any one of several properties in the world held by the corporation. So anytime I want to go to Paris or Bangkok or Rio, I’ve got a jet to take me there and a great place to crash. Besides, I’ll be out of there in a few years, and Steve knows it, and I’ll get a great package when I leave.”

  “It sounds like everything you always wanted.”

  He shrugged. “Almost.”

  “What do you mean? I remember very long recitations from you about how you were going to become a captain of industry, run an internationally known company, then retire early and spend the rest of your life signing dividend checks.”

  He laughed. “That’s right, I did used to say that. But I guess I also assumed I’d have a wife and family to help me enjoy it. I didn’t quite succeed with that part of it.”

  “True. So, why didn’t you go with one of those matchmakers that specialize in the pretty rich?”

  He laughed again. “I did. Right after Jill left. That’s where I met all those women who were so intent on proving to me how great they were that they would never relax enough to have any fun. I just started the online thing a few years ago, and didn’t really take it too seriously.”

  I had to ask. “And what was it about Sandra, exactly, that made you wave at her?”

  He turned on the bar stool and looked into my eyes. “I’d just waved at you, and you didn’t wave back. I didn’t think it would matter to me. After all, you certainly didn’t owe me anything. But still—somebody like Sandra is great for a bruised ego. She was young and beautiful, and I thought she’d fill in all the blank spaces in my life. It wasn’t her fault her idea of a good time was nothing like mine. When I broke it off, she told me that she wasn’t wife material, and if she’d known that was what I’d wanted, she never would have gone out with me in the first place.” He shrugged. “And the thing is, I thought I was just looking for laughs. I didn’t even realize that that was what I was looking for. A wife.”

  I was not expecting an answer like that. My throat was suddenly full and I had to think about breathing, because it took so much effort to keep looking into his eyes.

  “And then we met. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, we could find some common ground again. So I told Sandra good-bye.”

  “O
h.” Now the fullness was in my eyes, and I felt the tears starting to spill onto my cheeks. “Oh.”

  He handed me a cocktail napkin without a word, and I took it and held it against my eyes for what felt like an hour while I tried to rein in all the feelings that had suddenly come crashing down. When I took the napkin away, he was still sitting there, still looking at me, and apparently it had only been a minute or two, because he was still holding the same drink.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, very quietly. There were tears in his eyes. “I never meant to make you cry.”

  “When you broke up with me, I cried for three days. Straight through. I even cried in my sleep. MaryJo almost called my mother. I felt the same way I did when Daddy died. It was such a loss.” I sniffed. “And then I moved quickly into the betrayal and hatred phase, which was quite helpful for the healing process.”

  “Yes, I imagine it was,” he said.

  “We were so happy, Jake. How could you even look at someone else?” I blurted out the words. I didn’t mean to. I had been feeling all along that he owed it to me to offer an explanation of what had happened so long ago. I didn’t want to be the one to start that particular conversation. But after what he had just said, I needed to know.

  He took a deep breath. “She kept telling me how great I was,” he said softly. “She was smart, and had all these ideas about business and about management styles. We started out just talking about what she could do for me when I finally graduated. But after a few weeks, it stopped being about just my future career. It became about what we could do as a team. And it all sounded so real that it became the most important thing in my life. You were far away, Kate, and I missed you so badly, and Jill was right there, and everything she said seemed so possible.”

  He shook his head. “After a while, it was all I could see. This glorious future right there in front of me. And if I stuck with Jill, it would be so easy. I stopped thinking beyond that. I didn’t want to think beyond that, I guess, because then I’d have to face what I was losing. And that would have been too hard to bear.” He drained his drink and stared into the empty glass.

  I had to clear my throat. Finally, a reason. Finally, I could stop racking my brain and playing out scenarios in my head. It had been so simple, really.