Breakwater Bay: A Novel

by Shelley Noble

  Meri smiled slightly. “I wasn’t there, well, not with any memory of it. But that was the name they found on the ID. And you can see even though it’s old and damaged that it was the same girl in the photo and in the high school yearbook.

  “But . . . I hate to ask this, but are you sure you’re my father?” Meri really had no doubt. It wasn’t that she looked like him, but there was something about him that made her realize that he was part of her makeup.

  “You mean was Riley seeing someone besides me?”

  Meri nodded. He looked so devastated over something that had happened three decades ago, she began to wish she had never approached him.

  “I’m sure of it.” He sighed, not resigned, but sad. “I’m sure.”

  “Don’t feel bad. I was beginning to have horrible thoughts about the Rochfort family. That maybe she’d been abused.”

  “No. It was me. We were reckless, stupid I guess you’d say.”

  “Not me,” Meri said and saw a glimpse of a smile for the first time since she’d met him.

  “She never even told me. I would have taken care of her.”

  “My mother . . . Laura . . . left a diary.” Meri gave him a truncated version of how Riley had followed the midwife to Calder Farm. She left out the part about the breakwater and Alden dragging her to shore and about her mother’s baby dying at birth and Riley pleading for her to keep Meri.

  It was hard to get through it without a few tears; Everett pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. Then he had to use a napkin for his own.

  Then she told him the really hard part, about Riley being hit by the truck. “The driver said it was an accident, she didn’t even see him and he didn’t see her until it was too late.

  “And the really awful part . . .” Meri had to steel herself before she could continue. “When they didn’t claim her body, my gran went down and claimed her; she’s buried in our family plot. My mom and Gran went to the Rochforts and told them about Riley. I think they were feeling guilty about keeping me, but the Rochforts refused to listen, just kept saying she had died in Europe, which of course she hadn’t. I don’t think they ever sent her there. I think she ran away to have her baby, where they couldn’t get to it. To me. My gran even told them where she was buried and they never came to see her.”

  “Despicable people,” Everett said. “They would have sent her to the ends of the earth to bury any whiff of disgrace.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “And they wouldn’t even come to her grave. God, how will I ever be able to face that old bastard without tearing his eyes out?”

  “You see him?”

  He choked out a laugh. “Oh yes. We even serve on some of the same committees. We just pretend we never had any run-ins in the past. But he can’t stand that I actually made something of myself. It’s all very civilized, though he hates me and knows I detest him and blame him for Riley’s death.” He paused and added, “Now, more than ever.”

  Meri reached across the table and touched his hand where it had fisted on the table. “Nothing will change the past. I didn’t want to upend your world by coming to you. But I’m planning on getting married, and I really did want to know if I should be aware of any medical history. And . . .” She had to stop to swallow. “I just thought you should know.”

  “I’m glad you found me. Losing Riley is something I’ll always regret, but I do have a wonderful family. Married twenty years now. I have a wonderful wife and three great kids. Still . . .”

  “I saw their picture in your office. I’m glad you’re happy, really. And I’m glad you went into family law.”

  “What about you? Are you okay?”

  “More than okay. I have a wonderful family, too. Three half brothers, well, not really, but they are my brothers regardless. My mother just died a few years ago, but my dad has a research position at the University of Connecticut.”

  Both their coffees had grown cold, and Simmons motioned to the waiter. “I think I could use something a little stronger, how about you?”

  Simmons ordered a bourbon and Meri a red wine. When the waiter took their untouched cups away, Meri saw the tension had eased from Everett’s face. Had he been worried that she would try to make demands on him? She didn’t want him to think that. He seemed like a nice man and even though he was her father—her father, she was actually sitting here with her real father—Meri realized she had absolutely no feelings beyond liking and respecting a new acquaintance.

  They didn’t talk again until they both had drinks before them. They made an air toast, which was a ridiculous thing to do but seemed to clear the air.

  Everett took a sip and put down his drink. “So where do we go from here?”

  Chapter 25

  Meri and Everett Simmons walked back to Gilbert House to pick up their cars. They had passed from skittish strangers to first names. A comfortable acquaintanceship.

  They would be friends. Meri didn’t need any more from him. He seemed at peace. A good situation for both. And a future? They’d agreed to play it by ear.

  They stopped by Meri’s car. Theirs were the last two cars in the lot, but Meri knew Carlyn would be calling her to get the full story.

  Everett smiled at her, and she thought with a wistfulness for what might have been. “From what I’ve seen, I think Gilbert House actually has potential. I’ll see what I can do to help. I’m on the board of the Historical Preservation Group. I’ll try to get you on the agenda of the Group’s board meeting this week.

  “See if I can rustle up some finances to keep you running for a while.”

  Meri opened her mouth to thank him, but she immediately felt contrite. “Don’t we have to submit a proposal?” Surely Doug had already covered that. Had theirs been one of the grants that had been turned down?

  “I’ll call in a favor, it’s the least I can do. I can’t guarantee anything, but I think there’s a good chance of something.” There was a glint in his eye that might be excitement; Meri didn’t understand why unless . . .

  “You don’t have to do this. I’m not holding anything over your head, if that’s what you think. Truly, that’s not what I intended at all. I just wanted to . . . make sure.”

  “Meri, I know. I’m a pretty good judge of people. And trust me, you’ve given me more than you know. Just knowing what happened to Riley, that I have a daughter, that she was taken care of at the end.” His voice wavered, and Meri liked him the more for it.

  “Why do you think she ran from my mother and grandmother?”

  “She must have been afraid they would send her back to her parents. What else could they do?”

  “They wouldn’t have, you know. Gran and Mom would have taken her in. Made room for her and her baby—me. There was always room for more at Calder Farm. I wish she had known that. She would have become a Calder, too.”

  Everett placed a hand on her shoulder. “She never knew that kind of family. The Rochforts are all about the things that don’t count. Nothing in Riley’s experience would have given her the trust that your family would take care of her.

  “I’m glad she had the luck to find them. It could have turned out so much worse.”

  Meri thought about the frightened teenager on the breakwater and nodded.

  “I wasn’t lying when I told Doug that Gilbert House has good bones. I think it would be a good draw to the neighborhood, maybe even big enough for small events and parties so that it can become self-sustaining. I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

  He opened her door, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’m glad we met.”

  “Me, too,” she said and got into the car.

  He stood watching as she drove out of the parking lot. She waved, but she wasn’t sure if he saw her or not.

  It all seemed surreal. Part of her wanted to call Carlyn and tell her about the board meeting and the other part didn’t want to get their hopes up.

  Once Everett Simmons had recovered from his meeting with Meri, he might forget all abo
ut them. And that would be fine. She hadn’t been lying when she told him she didn’t want anything from him.

  She smiled. But it would be nice to have a foot in the door.

  Therese stood at the foot of Cyrus’s grave.

  They’d had a good life together. Only the one child and that had been a disappointment. “But we have fine grandchildren,” she told him. “Soon a great-grandchild.”

  She leaned over and pulled some chickweed from around the marble footstone, then pushed slowly to her feet and moved on to Laura and Riley, with little Rose resting between them. Therese gazed at them for a long time, remembering.

  Why was she still here and those young lives gone? It didn’t seem fair.

  She knelt stiffly at the graves. “I really wish you were here to help your daughter. Both of you.”

  The next two days at work had to be the longest of Meri’s career. She noticed that two more interns were back, though Krosky was still missing.

  “I kind of miss him,” Carlyn said. “Now that we finally got to know him, he has bio-whatever commitments. Do you think we can turn him?”

  “From advanced science to tracing wallpaper?” Meri grimaced.

  “For not much pay,” Carlyn added. “I guess not.”

  By Wednesday, Meri’s nerves were raw. She’d looked up the calendar for meetings in Newport preservation circles and learned that Everett’s organization’s meeting would be that night. She crossed fingers and toes and tried not to think about it, though Carlyn did ask several times if she was upset about something.

  She’d pried most of the details about Meri’s meeting with Simmons out of her over lunches, but Meri was very careful not to mention Everett’s offer to put them before the board. She didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if it didn’t come to fruition. So she said she was fine and kept working.

  And the work began to unfold. There always, if you were lucky, came a point when suddenly things began to take on a life of their own. Sometimes it was toward the end when you began to see the complete picture, sometimes it was with that first discovery. But as she worked painstakingly across the ceiling, she had an epiphany.

  Granted, the colors were faded, the pattern missing in places where the plaster came off with the paint. But what was left was the promise of delicate, Italianate ornamentation. Not as glamorous as the ceilings of the Breakers dining room or the Rosecliff ballroom, but as a foyer it certainly deserved its place in history.

  That night she called Gran just to say hello and to find out if she’d heard from Alden. She hadn’t and Meri was tempted to call him herself, but that would be too clingy. Plus she didn’t really need to talk to him though she did wonder how Nora was. She wasn’t about to call her even though she had her cell number.

  Meri knew she would do nothing but cause harm if Jennifer found out she was calling her daughter.

  She and Gran talked for a few minutes and Meri thought her grandmother sounded a little . . . lonely?

  She must be, because I am. Which was ridiculous—she didn’t even see Alden that much, and to her discredit she hadn’t really missed Peter so far. And she had met Everett Simmons. There were plenty of people in her life. So there was no reason to feel this emptiness.

  It was probably just nerves waiting for the results of the board meeting. What if he hadn’t been able to get them on the agenda? What if he’d forgotten that he’d offered to bring it before the board?

  If that happened, they wouldn’t be any worse off than before; Meri was glad she’d managed to not tell anyone about his offer.

  Meri got to work early the next morning and found Joe Krosky and Carlyn in the kitchen drinking coffee.

  “Joe, you’re back,” Meri said, surprised at how good it was to see the toe-bouncing microbiologist.

  “Miss me?”

  “Sure did. Where’s Doug?”

  Carlyn shrugged. “Went up to his office as soon as he came in. Things look bleak.”

  Meri’s stomach fell. Everett hadn’t come through. “Bleaker than usual?”

  “No. Why?” Carlyn asked. “Has something else happened? God, you’re not quitting, are you?”

  Meri sighed. “No, I was just hoping. Well, guess I’ll get to work.” She headed down the hall, not even feeling like having coffee with the others. For a minute hope had blossomed, but she’d known it had been a long shot.

  She was just passing the main staircase when Doug’s footsteps rattled down the steps. “Meri.”

  Meri waited for him to reach the bottom.

  “Come to the kitchen with me,” he said, scowling at her.

  Maybe things could get bleaker, because Doug did not look like a happy camper.

  She followed him in the kitchen.

  “Everybody sit down.”

  Carlyn and Krosky were already seated. Meri sat.

  “What’s up, boss?” Carlyn said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Something amazing has happened.”

  “Something good?” Meri blurted.

  “Potentially.”

  Carlyn groaned. “Just spill it, Doug. You’re killing us here. Is it good or not?”

  “Seems Everett Simmons—you met him the other day—”

  Carlyn choked on her coffee. And widened her eyes at Meri.

  Meri crossed her fingers in her lap.

  “He approached the Historical Preservation Group board last night about getting us a place on their spring gala event. And they’ve agreed, providing we can come up with enough of a presentation to show their donors and prepare a budget that is in keeping with the merits of Gilbert House.”

  Doug started pacing. “Doesn’t mean shit if we can’t pull it off. Doesn’t mean shit if we can and it doesn’t interest someone enough to underwrite it.”

  “How can it not?” Carlyn said, still looking at Meri.

  “How could it not?” Meri echoed.

  “But we have a lot of work to do,” Doug said and hurried out the door.

  “Guess I’ll get back to my wallpaper,” Joe said and bounced off down the hall.

  “Everett Simmons?” Carlyn asked as soon as the two men were gone. “How did you pull that off?” Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t resort to blackmail or anything did you?”

  “No. He offered to bring it up before the board, but he didn’t make any promises. I wasn’t sure he would actually do it. Or if he did, whether they would listen.”

  “Well, next time you see him, give him a big kiss for me.”

  Next time she saw him. Meri guessed she might see him again. They’d meet as friends, not father and daughter. But that was cool, she had a father already.

  Meri grabbed her gear, determined to clean up enough of her ceiling to intrigue possible donors. She knew it was in awful shape, but they were used to imagining the final outcome, especially if they had a good representational artist.

  When she reached the foyer, Meri stood for a minute just looking up.

  She realized Joe was standing next to her, and he wasn’t bouncing but also looking up.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” he said.

  “It is.”

  “How art imitates science. It looks just like a cross section of a cuboidal epithelial cell. Wonderful.” He wandered away.

  And Meri wondered how it would be to always be seeing things at their molecular level.

  She climbed the scaffolding, already daydreaming about—and exaggerating—the final product. It would be incredible, but not in time for the gala. They would have to have an artist create a rendition of the final project, presented as a PowerPoint display.

  A slide show presentation could show authenticity, works in progress, schemata of the building, but rarely showed the magic or stoked the imagination. A few did, and those artists were always working. She just hoped one of them owed Doug a favor, a big favor.

  Because it took a special kind of artist to inspire potential patrons to see it through the artist’s eyes, as a living link to the past, something miraculous, beautiful
, and inspirational.

  She could see it all in her head just as if it were real. If they could just find the right artist.

  After three days of looking at apartments in Manhattan, Alden had to admit that maybe he’d been rash, if a man can be rash after forty-two years. He’d seen some beautiful places.

  And contrary to what Meri thought, some of them had been filled with light.

  They were light, but it wasn’t his light. The real estate agent suggested Brooklyn. Even larger apartments with even more light. But it still wasn’t right.

  The agent suggested he take a break, that sometimes you needed to get some distance on things, rearrange your expectations. She obviously thought she was wasting her time with him, and maybe she was.

  Maybe Corrigan House wasn’t his problem. Corrigan House without Meri was his problem. He’d known it for ages, but like he’d given up his children for their own good, he’d tried not to make Meri feel like she owed him anything.

  When it was really the opposite. He owed her for bringing some joy in his life. From the first time he saw her, the first time they sat him on the couch surrounded by pillows and slipped that baby onto his lap, he knew she would always be his. Even when she was a kid, being a demanding obnoxious brat, annoying the heck out of him, he’d loved her. She’d brought the only glimmer of joy after the end of his disastrous marriage.

  When he was younger, his heart ached with it. Now it had passed into comfort—most of the time. Until Peter. He’d always thought he would be glad when she found someone to love her. But he wasn’t. Not Peter anyway. There was nothing wrong with the man; he just wasn’t right for Meri.

  Alden coughed and wished he had a cigarette. Peter at least was fun and outgoing, near her own age; they could grow old together, if they didn’t divorce first. Somewhere in the passing years Alden had grown old, too old for her. He didn’t think he could sing karaoke if his life depended on it.

  The idea made him smile, though it was bittersweet; things would be better for him if he could. He’d communicate better with his children, with Meri. He’d be sociable instead of a semirecluse, living with imaginary people, animals . . . monsters.