A Promise to Remember (5 page)

Mattie? No one under the age of seventy dared to call Mattilda Plendor by her first name, especially since her husband
acquired the family title a decade ago. Andie had never known
her to suggest a breach in etiquette until this very second.

Mattie it sounded strange just to think the name-brought
her head to within inches of Andie's, squinted, and began a
methodical study of her face. She started with the right cheek,
moved across the forehead and down the left cheek, over the
nose and down to the chin. Then she stepped back and scanned
Andie from head to toe, as though inspecting a car or large
appliance. "My, my, the grief is just written all over you. And
of course it would be, you poor thing. I must do something to
cheer you up. Something from my shop, perhaps?"

Lady Plendor owned a posh boutique in Montecito, the Santa
Barbara region's most exclusive city. In spite of the fact that she
was pushing seventy, she wore a wool dress in a wild leopard
print, three-inch heels, and ample jewelry and accessories. Her
appearance left no one to doubt that she came from very old
and very substantial wealth.

Her eyebrows remained lifted in shock, even though it had
been several minutes since she first approached. What had
her so perplexed? The answer slowly revealed itself as Andie
studied Mattie's face. She wasn't surprised-she'd had another
facelift.

"We'll get together for tea and share our stories of grief. When
my Milton died, I thought I'd never survive it."

"I know that was very hard for you."

The woman nodded, and although her facial expression remained locked in place, her eyes clouded. Just last year she
had lost her husband of the past five decades in a skydiving
accident. It had been a terrible shock.

Organ music floated out into the vestibule. It had started
none too soon for Andie.

"I've got to get to my seat now, dear, but we'll talk more about
a little something from my shop, okay?"

Andie nodded and watched Mattie walk down the aisle to
her seat. Several women in the surrounding area stood and performed their usual air-kisses ritual with Mattie. The woman's
apparent contradictions never failed to amaze Andie.

Only because she was on the Mission Board didAndie know
why Mattie had just returned to town. She'd been in Africa for
the last few weeks, painting, cleaning, and helping with the
children at the new orphanage she'd helped pay for. A donation
no one knew about exceptAndie and the other members of the
Mission Board-and they'd been sworn to secrecy. Few would
look past the couture and elective surgery, but there was more to
Mattilda Plendor than most people would ever understand.

Blair put his arm underAndie's elbow as they started up the
aisle. His shoulder brushed against her, and he leaned closer.
His breath was warm on her ear when he whispered, "Doth
my ear deceive me, or did her ladyship actually tell you to call
her Mattie?"

Andie looked at him and stifled a giggle. The first since Chad's
death. What kind of mother could ever think of laughing when
her son was gone forever? She took a shaky breath. I'm sorvy,
Chad. It won't happen again.

On Wednesday morning, Andie stood outside the mahogany
doors of Baur, Campbell, andAssociates and cast a nervous look
over her shoulder. No one seemed to notice her. Good. After the
story in this morning's paper, anyone who recognized her would
misconstrue her presence here. Santa Barbara wasn't that big
a city, and it didn't take much more than a whisper for rumors
to flourish. She was at least thankful it had taken the lawsuit
five days to go public. It gave them time to come to terms with
it in private. As much as possible, anyway.

She pulled open the door and entered through a warm exhalation of air, taking care to plaster a smile on her face. Everyone
would be watching her. Some would watch in concern, some
in pained fascination-like watching a train wreck-and some,
the most perceptive, would recognize her failures as a mother
and think smugly how she was getting what she deserved.

Maybe it was what she deserved, but what about Chad? He
didn't deserve to die for her mistakes, did he?

"Good morning, Mrs. Phelps." Diana, the front-desk secretary,
smiled sweetly up atAndie.

Andie forced the muscles in her cheek to hold up her farce
of a smile. "Good morning, Diana."

Diana's perky voice and bright eyes seemed a bit reserved
today. Andie wondered if she was hiding pity or contempt. "Mrs.
Baur is waiting in the conference room."

Andie nodded and started down the hall. She knew where
to go.

The Charity League's executive committee had been meeting
in this conference room every week for the last six years. Since
Christi's first term as president.

Every year now, Christi was reelected without a hitch. No
one had the organization, determination, and energy to even
attempt to outdo her. She kept things moving. She also saw to it that the conference room at her husband's law firm was
reserved every Wednesday morning at eleven o'clock.

Andie walked down the hallway, pretending fascination with
the portraits of brilliant lawyers that lined the wall. Normally,
she would voice greetings to several acquaintances who worked
here. Not today. She darted through the door into the conference room, thankful to have avoided contact.

"Got to stick together and fight this. That's the only way this
kind of thing will ever stop-" Christi stopped midsentence
and jumped to her feet. "There you are." She walked over to
give Andie a hug but didn't meet her eye. In fact, both she and
Carol looked as though they'd been caught cheating on a test.
"Glad you're here. We were just talking about you."

Andie grimaced. She had a pretty good idea what they had
been talking about. "Really?"

"Yes. Andie, you are doing such a great job organizing the
silent-auction baskets for the Rescue Mission benefit. Last
year, it was such a disaster." Christi looked toward Carol, who
must've gotten the hint.

"Yes. We think that should be your job from here on."

"Well, I-"

Christi grabbedAndie's arm and pulled her forward. "Forgive
me for being so rude. You walk in the door and I start loading you
with more assignments. Here, put your bag down and get some
coffee and a scone. Susie and Janice will be late, as usual."

Andie walked to the sidebar for coffee, feeling the women's
stares burning through her back. She knew they were dying
to see her reaction to the news. Well, she planned to pretend
nothing had happened. She had a job to do and she was here
to do it. The people in the cancer treatment wards and detox
facilities didn't have time to worry about Andie or the lawsuit
aimed at her. They needed her creating for them, planning for them, and it felt nice to think of something outside of her pain,
if only for a moment.

Susie and Janice burst into the room, arms loaded with shopping bags. "Sorry we're late, ladies. We stopped by Nordstrom
and one thing led to another." The words spouted from Susie's
mouth in one breath. She paused to inhale, dropped her bags,
and looked around the room. Her wandering gaze stopped at
Andie. She covered her gaunt cheek with her right hand and
held out her emaciated left arm for a hug.

"Oh, Andie honey, I saw the paper this morning. I can't believe what that woman is doing to your family. How can we help
you?" Susie had never been one for tact, or keeping quiet about
things best kept quiet.

She threw her arms around Andie's shoulders and squeezed
so tight Andie fought to breathe. Her heart's in the right place. Be
polite. Count to three, then you can pull away. Make it through
this meeting and you can go home.

"I'm just fine, Susie. Thanks for asking."Andie looked toward
Christi with all the dignity she could still muster. "I believe
everyone is here now. Shall we get the meeting started?"

Christi nodded. "To your places, ladies."

As Andie went to her seat at the table, she saw Christi exchange a look with Carol. Whatever they had been talking about,
it would be continued later. Andie's presence would stop it for
now, but they would talk plenty after she left.

The business of helping others filled the next forty-five minutes. Not long now.

"One last thing for you, Andie." Christi tapped a finger at
something in her notebook. She looked apologetic. "Carolyn
Patterson, from the Cancer Center... she wondered if the board
should appoint another director for the Fair this year."

This jolted her back into full attention. "Of course not. Why
would she ask that?"

Of all the myriads of Andie's charity projects, the Old Time
Fair for the Cure was the one closest to her soul. She had
invented the concept three years ago and had watched the
attendance grow and mushroom until they were expecting this
April's crowds to perhaps triple previous records.

Christi cocked her head. "Probably just concerned you need
a little time to yourself." She looked hard at Andie. "Do you?"

Andie thought about Chad's notes on his own fundraiser.
"I'm going to show them all just like Mont does with her cancer
fundraiser every, year." Chad and his friends had always talked
about how much they loved the Fair. This year's Fair would be
in honor of Chad. It would be her best yet. "Absolutely not.
The Fair is my baby, and I can handle it."

"Okay, then." Christi looked around the table. "If there's nothing else, ladies, this meeting is adjourned."

Christi Baur reclined on the back deck, checking her fingernail
polish. She held the portable phone between her ear and her
shoulder, waiting. Finally, on the third ring, she heard the telltale
click on the other end. She gripped the receiver with her right
hand and sat upright. "Kaitlyn, hi. You saw the paper?"

While murmuring agreement with Kaitlyn's words of outrage,
she noticed a dandelion sprouting in her lawn. She stood and
walked toward it. "I've talked to some of the others. We're going
to boycott Alfords." She pulled the offending weed up by the
roots and carried it to the trash can.

"Boycott Alfords?" Kaitlyn's shriek blasted through the line
with enough decibels that Christi almost dropped the phone.
"But it's the best grocery store in town. Their meat is better;
the produce is fresher. I was planning to get the hotdogs and
hamburgers for the kids' car wash from them."

"Make new plans. I'd already ordered salmon and ribs for
Scott's firm's barbeque. Called this morning-canceled the
order. Told the manager he'd seen his last business from me
as long as he employed a heartless money grabber. Told him
that a lot of others would feel the same way." She paused, long
enough to let her words sink in. "Told him we would all stick
together."

"Well ... yes ... I suppose you're right. I want to do what
I can to help Andie. I suppose we can drive across town to
Gelson's."

Christi made a fist and pumped her arm. Victory. This had
been easier than she'd expected. "Yes, we can. Honestly, it's just
shameless what the woman is doing."

"Yeah. I guess so."

Christi heard the lack of conviction in Kaitlyn's voice and
decided to squash it for good. "Remember Benjamin's fender
bender last month? Could just as easily have been your family.
Teenagers get into accidents. We need to send out a message
that those accidents are not a get-rich-quick ticket."

A sniffle sounded through the line. "Of course you're
right."

"Yes, I am."

"Sure. Okay, count me in. Umm, I've got an appointment.
I need to go."

"See you at the Charity League meeting tomorrow night. Oh,
by the way, I haven't told Andie about the boycott yet, so don't
mention it." Christi smiled and hung up the phone.

She knew what Kaitlyn's "appointment" was. It was her standing Wednesday afternoon massage at the club. Knowing she
would be the most difficult to convince, Christi had specifically
picked this time to call because the less time Kaitlyn had to
think and argue, the better. Christi smiled. If Kaitlyn, who prided
herself on her cooking and insisted on doing her own shopping, could be convinced that easily, the rest-many of whom hired
chefs or paid assistants to stock their pantries-would be as
simple as procuring sponsors for a high-profile charity event.