Camilla T. Crespi - The Breakfast Club Murder

by Camilla T. Crespi

  “Mom! Someone sent you flowers!”

  Lori spun around to face her daughter. “Flowers? Why?”

  “How should I know?” Jessica’s expression was belligerent.

  “I’m sorry, Jess. I’m running late for an important meeting in NewYork this afternoon and I was distracted. Flowers are always wonderful, unless it’s a funeral. Let’s see them.” Halfway down the stairs she could smell them.

  “You’re not going to see Dad, are you?” Jessica asked in a wary voice.

  “No, sweetie, I’m meeting with the accountant over taxes.” Little white lies to your child were necessary sometimes. Lori stopped short at the sight of the enormous bouquet of white roses, Casablanca lilies, and pink peonies that now crowded the entrance table. “Holy sky!” Lori said, an expression her mother used for the unexpected. At least fifty flowers bulged out of a round, blue-patterned ceramic pot. They took her breath away.

  “This has Margot’s signature on it, for sure,” she said, picking up the note pinned to the satin bow.

  Dear Ms. Corvino,

  Again I apologize for ruining your evening in Rome. I could not help but overhear you asking Maurizio, the waiter, for the recipe of gnocchi della regina. I have sent it along. If you have not received it yet, it should arrive shortly. Flowers and a recipe cannot replace the beautiful dress you were wearing and which I’m afraid I have ruined, but I did want you to know how sorry I am.

  With best wishes,

  Alec Winters

  P.S. I have many mended bones to prove how hopelessly clumsy I have always been.

  “Who sent them?” Jessica asked, leaning sideways to read the note.

  Lori slipped the note in her bathrobe before Jessica could read it. “A man,” she said and dropped down on a stair. This was too much. Even patronizing. Did she care about his mended bones? Really! And why hadn’t he left a return address? Was she expected to accept and forget?

  “Mom, do you have a boyfriend?” Jessica asked.

  Lori looked at the flowers again and breathed in their perfume. God, they were so beautiful, and if she didn’t watch it she would shrivel into a complaining bitter woman. How sweet Mr. Alec Winters was. How sincerely sorry. And the recipe. How had he gotten the recipe? For that matter, how had he gotten her name and address?

  “Mom, if you have a boyfriend I think I should know about it. No more surprises, okay?” Jessica shook her mother’s shoulder. “Mom?”

  Lori looked up. “Oh, honey, how could I possibly have a boyfriend? No, this is just a man I met in Rome.” From where she sat, Lori could see the kitchen wall clock. One forty p.m. The train to Grand Central left at two twenty. She started running up the stairs. “I’ll tell you what happened when I come back, okay?”

  “Whatever. I’m always the last to know anything,” Jessica yelled up at her mother.

  “Jess, be fair,” Lori yelled back. “We’ll talk tonight. Okay?” There was silence from downstairs. A boyfriend. How could Jess even think that? Lori stepped into a pair of beige cotton slacks, topped them with a white short-sleeved jersey. She’d show Jess the ruined dress. That should erase any doubts. The gray linen jacket she’d bought in Florence was wrinkled, but the saleswoman had insisted that linen wrinkles were chic. Lori slipped on the jacket. The wrinkles matched her face. She put on another layer of foundation, a pale lipstick, and let thoughts of Alec Winters float back into her mind. How did he know her name and her address? And how did he get that recipe? She tried to remember what he looked like and couldn’t. She’d been terribly rude to him, that she knew. She fluffed up her hair and smiled at her reflection. Damn! Those flowers were softening her resolve to faceValerie. That would never do. She straightened her spine and frowned in the mirror. No jewelry. She wanted to appear severe, strong.

  Lori grabbed her handbag.

  The front door slammed.

  Lori peered down from the upstairs landing. “Jess?” No answer. She skipped down the stairs and checked the kitchen. Jessica had left a note on the kitchen table, held down by the now-empty Coke bottle. “I’m staying over at Angie’s tonight. I only told you three times!!!” The yellow rose, Lori noticed, was sticking out of the garbage where she was sure to notice it.

  Lori walked back to the hallway and pushed her nose against a Casablanca lily. She inhaled deeply and told herself—we’ll be fine. One day. Soon.

  “The doctor’s with a patient. You can’t see her,” Ruth said.

  Lori strode past the desk.

  Ruth half-sat up. “Wait, Mrs. Staunton, I mean, Lori! Stop!”

  Valerie, in a white coat, three-inch heels, and swaying blond hair, sashayed down the corridor. She stopped at the sight of Lori and smiled, showing off her perfect caps, blue-white to match her husband’s. “There’s no point to this,” she said in a soft voice only Lori could hear. “I’m Rob’s wife now. You can’t get him back.”

  Valerie’s words were hot lava pouring down Lori’s throat. For a moment she couldn’t speak. She looked at Valerie’s skinny frame and remembered why she was here. “Stop undermining my daughter. There’s nothing wrong with her weight.”

  Valerie’s eyes traveled down Lori’s body, the smile still hovering on her lips. “Jess has some bad genes to contend with. She needs to watch it. One thing you have to remember now is that Jess may be your daughter, but she’s also Rob’s daughter. And now mine. I can tell her whatever—”

  Lori stepped closer. “She’ll never be your daughter,” she said quietly, then slapped Valerie hard across her smirk.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. And she almost toppled over on her three-inch heels.” Lori had called Beth on the train coming home and now they were sitting in her kitchen, half a bottle of Falanghina sloshing in their empty stomachs. “Who can stand all day in three-inch heels?”

  “What did she do after you slapped her?” Beth asked.

  “She said, ‘You’re pitiful.’ ”

  “Nasty.”

  “I wanted to hit her again but the bulldog nurse was heading straight for me and I got out before I got hauled out.” Lori refilled the wine glasses, took another fortifying gulp, and leaned back in her chair. “Now I’m furious at myself for losing control, for giving her so much power over me.”

  What Lori really wanted to do was sleep and forget the whole episode. She was ashamed of what she’d done. “It felt great for about three seconds.”

  “Let’s think happy thoughts,” Beth said.

  “Great idea.” Valerie was Jessica’s stepmother now. Both she and Jess would have to learn to live with that. “How about food as a happy thought? You hungry? Let me try out one of my new recipes on you. Risotto with baby peas and shrimp. That would be nice for the dinner party on Saturday. Thanks again for that job, by the way. I can do it. Jess is going to a party that night. I’m thrilled to have the distraction. How did you get me the job on such short notice?”

  “Her regular caterer had to cancel. I know her son, who’s a client of mine. He asked me if I knew of anyone. Hey, you might know him. Jonathan Ashe. You probably fed him at one of Rob’s business dinners. He was on the fast track in Rob’s law firm. Curly blond hair, blue eyes, six feet or so, with a great dimple on one cheek? Once you saw him you wouldn’t forget him. He’s cute.”

  Lori shook her head. “I was so busy worrying that the dinner went perfectly I barely looked up at the guests.”

  “He’s on his own now, doing real estate and handling Mama’s money. Over the years Jonathan’s managed to convince her that buying art is a good investment.” When Beth’s husband, Larry, died, she had stopped being a social worker to run his art gallery.

  “What about veal rollatini with a pancetta and porcini mushroom stuffing, or scaloppine with lemon and capers?”

  “Stop, I’m gaining weight just listening to you.” Beth turned her chair so that she was facing the hallway. “When I said ‘let’s think happy thoughts’ I was referring to that h
umongous mass of flowers from Mr. Alec Winters. It’s a great mood enhancer. Does he live near here?”

  “There was no address.”

  “Call the florist and tell them you’ve got something of his you need to return. If they still won’t give you his address, mail them your thank-you note and ask them to forward it.”

  “If he wanted to let me know how to find him, he would have, right?”

  “Stop being passive. You’re divorced now. Life’s in your hands.”

  “Well, he’s supposedly sending me a recipe. Maybe it will come with a return address.”

  Beth got out of her chair. “Where’s your laptop?”

  “Next to the microwave. Why?”

  Beth walked over to the kitchen counter and opened up the laptop. “I’m going to Google Mr. Alec Winters. You don’t give up on someone who sends you that kind of bouquet. Not only can he afford those flowers, he’s sensitive, sweet, romantic, and he knows recipes. He’s ideal, Lori. Get it? Ideal!”

  “I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

  “Ugly you’d remember.”

  “He probably lives in Alaska. And anyway, I’m not interested in men right now.”

  “You don’t have to marry him, Lori. Just think of him as another great distraction. If he’s in Alaska you can e-mail each other, talk about food, Italy, anything. Communicate.” Beth turned around and looked fiercely at Lori. “Living alone sucks, so whatever you can do—”

  “I’ve got Jessica.”

  “And I’ve had the twins all these years, but children don’t replace a man. It’s not just sex. It’s having an adult companion, someone to share adult thoughts with, someone who can take over if you lose it. You and Janet and Margot have been great, but it’s not enough. I don’t mean to scare you, Lori, but it’s been godawful since Larry died.” Beth burst into tears. “Just hell.”

  Lori was taken aback. She’d always thought of Beth as a pillar of strength. Margot even called her Concrete Beth, both because she was the realist among the three friends and because of her strength. Beth had faced her husband’s slow death from leukemia without a tear or complaint. At Larry’s funeral and in the months afterward she had concentrated on helping her children and Larry’s friends deal with their grief. Now here was Concrete Beth crying like a child. Lori hugged her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You never said anything.”

  “I tried dating, but no one measured up to Larry, and when it came to having sex, I just couldn’t. I felt like meat for sale. I guess I just want him back.”

  Why hadn’t Beth shared her unhappiness with her friends? Was it pride? Shame? Had she, Margot and Janet stopped paying attention because they were each too busy with their own lives? She considered Beth her oldest, her best friend, and yet here she was suddenly discovering she didn’t truly know her, as she had discovered she didn’t truly know her husband. As she might not know Jessica. Maybe Donne was wrong. We are all islands, destined to be lonely. No! The thought was too awful.

  Lori tightened her hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  Beth sniffed, wiped her nose with the back of her hands. “It’s envy, that’s all. I’d like to have a man send me flowers without having to put out first.”

  “You wouldn’t like what he did to my dress.”

  Beth wiped her tears and laughed. “Next year Tommy and Mike are off to boarding school. They wanted to go so badly, I couldn’t say no.”

  “We’ll keep each other company.” The phone rang. Lori was tempted to let it ring, but Jessica could be calling. “I better get this.”

  Beth pushed her toward the phone. “Yes, of course.” She waved an arm just as Lori got to the wall phone. “Please don’t tell Margot or Janet. I’m doing great, really. It’s just the flowers—”

  “I won’t say a word.” Lori picked up the cordless receiver, hoping it was Jessica telling her, “You’re my mom. I don’t even like Valerie. I love you.”

  It was raspy-voiced Margot. “I want to take you out to dinner with Janet and me. I know you’re jet-lagged, but it will be fabulous, I promise. Janet’s just dropped the kids with Seth’s mother for the night. Seth has a meeting in the city for a possible job and yours truly managed to snatch a last-minute reservation for four at Jeffrey’s, which you know is impossible to get into even on a Monday night. I’m trying to find Beth to get her to join us. Do you know where she is?”

  Lori took advantage of the short pause in Margot’s waterfall of words to ask, “What are Jessica and Angie doing?”

  Silence. Then a quiet “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” Lori repeated as her stomach got ready to do its hundredth flip of the day. She really needed to get a grip. “Did they go to the movies?” Pizza afterward, probably.

  “He lied,” Margot said.

  “Who lied?” She knew the answer right away. That’s what she got for slapping the new wife. Now Rob was going to kidnap Jessica, take her to Paris and Provence. Lori dragged herself over to the kitchen table, dropped down heavily on one of the chairs. She’d turned into a sack of potatoes. Rotting ones. Beth, watching her, stopped swirling the mouse button.

  “Darling, please, don’t be mad at me,” Margot pleaded. Her voice was loud enough for Beth to hear. “Rob took the girls to Manhattan. He said he had reservations at Pastis in the Meat-packing District and he thought they’d get a kick out of it. Angie and Jessica started screaming with excitement. I said I’d have to check with you first, but he said he’d called you already and you were fine with it.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? There’s no harm in it, is there? God, I’m awfully sorry, but they’ll have so much fun and he promised to bring them back no later than ten thirty. Now forgive me and come to dinner.”

  It was turning out to be a big night for regrets. Lori sighed. “It’s okay, Margot, but I don’t feel like dinner. Call me when Jess is back.” Beth tapped Lori on her shoulder and mouthed, “I’m not here.”

  “I don’t know where Beth is,” Lori added.

  Margot went on urging her to come to dinner at Jeffrey’s, the most expensive restaurant in Hawthorne Park. “I want to welcome you back.”

  “Thank you, but I’m very tired,” Lori said. “But I’ll take a rain check. Don’t forget to call when Jess is back, no matter what the time.”

  “I won’t forget,” Margot promised. “I’ll get you another night. Love you and do forgive me for believing that handsome rotter you married.”

  “Divorced.” Lori hung up. Handsome and rotter was right on. She was furious at Margot for letting Jessica go, for not checking with her first. Her heart was fluttering and her mouth was dry. She was having a panic attack. Nothing was in her control anymore.

  After one look at Lori, Beth went to the refrigerator, jerked open the door, and rummaged inside until she found a plastic container. Inside was the leftover butter and Parmesan spaghetti Lori had cooked for Jessica early that morning. Beth popped the container in the microwave. “Rob won’t let any harm come to his daughter, you know that, right?”

  Lori nodded and looked at the flowers in the hall. “Look at something pretty,” her father used to tell her whenever she was about to cry. “It lifts the soul. That’s why I look at you all the time.” The memory helped. Maybe even the sight of the flowers.

  She was going to call Rob on his cell, tell him what she thought of his lie right in the middle of his dinner. Jessica would never forgive her. God, what if he told her Lori’d slapped Valerie. She could just hear Jessica wailing, “Mom, that’s just so embarrassing!” Or Jessica might give her the cold shoulder for a week. Please, Rob, don’t tell her.

  Beth brought over the reheated pasta and a fork. “You need to eat.”

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “Your food’s edible.” Beth had suffered through several Ellie meals in the name of friendship.

  Lori slipped the fork into the spaghetti and twirled the strands into a neat roll, one of the first t
ricks Papa had taught her. She’d wait until tomorrow to have it out with Rob.

  Beth was back sitting on the stool, fiddling with the laptop. “Alec Winters restores houses,” she announced. “He lives in Pleasant Gap, Pennsylvania, which is a little far, but long-distance relationships can be more exciting. And House and Garden did an article on him. That means he’s successful. Too bad there’s no photo.” She scrolled down. “Ooh, this is getting better and better. Listen, he’s involved with not-for-profit and volunteer organizations in New York City. Let’s see, he’s with the Children’s Help Line, DonorsChoose, and, oh—”

  “What?” Lori slipped the rolled spaghetti into her mouth.

  “He’s chairman of the board of Ban-AIDS and a big donor to Broadway Cares.”

  Lori looked up with a smile. “That explains the gorgeous extravagant flowers. The sweet note.”

  “You’re male bashing.” Beth tried to wipe away the frown that had formed on her forehead with a sweep of her hand. “And let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe he’s just compassionate.”

  Lori shook her head. “A gay man is just what a gal needs in bad times. Support, compassion, no sex. We’ll share him. Tomorrow I’ll call information and get his number. How’s that for passive?”

  Beth closed the laptop lid. “Come to think of it, Jonathan Ashe would make a great date for you. Cute. Never married. He is a couple of years younger, maybe as much as five, but, hey, younger is the latest trend.”

  Lori wasn’t listening. She took two more bites, then pushed the plate away. “God, why did he have to take Jessica?”

  Beth slipped down from the stool. “Why are you so worried? Okay, Rob lied and you’ll have to work that out with him, but Pastis is a hot restaurant for young people. Tommy and Mike raved about it. Jessica will have a ball.”

  “What if someone is trying to kill Rob? What if that person tries tonight while he’s with Jessica and Angie? I don’t know, a bomb in the trunk, driving him off the road, shooting at the car.”

  Beth walked over, leaned over Lori, and rubbed her back. “Honey, I think you need to take an Ambien and go to sleep.”