An Affair of Deceit (25 page)

“I’m pleased to meet you as well, Mrs. Riley,” Abigail responded. “You have a lovely home.”

“Please call me Lisa. All of James’s friends do. And please come inside.”

Abigail wondered if “friends” was code for “girlfriends.” Irritably, she fell into step with Riley walking at her side. He looked so blissfully happy, and it made Abigail anxious. This whole scenario made her feel like a show pony being trotted out for approval. It inspired her stubborn side. When Riley tried to take her hand to guide her inside the front door, she shook him off and strode in by herself.

She refused to look at his face, knowing that his eager smile would be crushed.

Fine by her if he was hurt. Maybe he’d get the message that she wasn’t interested in earning the approval of anyone, let alone someone’s doting mother.

She followed his mother through the small foyer and into an airy kitchen that was clearly the gathering spot in this old farmhouse. Abigail noticed an original gas stove and dark-gray soapstone sink, but the large wooden table in the center of the room dominated everything.

His mother went straight for the refrigerator, a newer model but in an old-fashioned pale green with retro-rounded edges. “You could have called, James. I would have made something fresh. You’ll have to settle for cold ham and cheese.”

“Sounds delicious.” Riley put his hand on the small of Abigail’s back and steered her to the table. He pulled out her chair, and she grudgingly sat down.

“I always feed him when he shows up. He never gets enough to eat. Been too skinny ever since he started walking and lost all his baby fat,” his mother explained. “Can I get you a glass of iced tea, Abigail?”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. Riley.”

She turned to look at Abigail, iced tea pitcher in hand. Her smile had turned wry. “It’s no trouble. You look like you could use a drink. In fact, can I get you a whiskey? Glass of wine, maybe? Here in the heart of Virginia, I might offer a julep before noon.”

Abigail demurred with a slight smile. So Riley’s mom wasn’t Martha Stewart after all. That still didn’t make Abigail want to like her.

“Tell me how you two know each other,” his mom said as she poured iced tea into three tall glasses.

“From work,” he said simply, but his mother eyed him suspiciously.

“Do I need to lock my doors, Son?”

“You always need to lock your doors.”

She winced.

“Mom. Really? No, don’t bother—I’ll check it out,” he said, and pushed away from the table.

As his footsteps faded into the depths of the house, silence settled over the two women in the kitchen. Now Abigail heard birds chirping softly but incessantly somewhere in the house. She remembered hearing birds in the background on the day she called Riley to invite him to lunch; he must have been here, at his mother’s house, not at a zoo or a park. How odd to realize that he
had been at his mother’s house when she’d called to invite him on what turned out to be their first date.

“That boy brings more trouble into my house than I care to remember,” his mother said.

“I don’t mean to be any trouble.”

“Oh heck. I wasn’t referring to you. It’s just, well, if you know each other from work, then you know what I mean.” His mother smiled and sat down across from Abigail.

“We don’t work together regularly, but I do know what you mean.”

“Well that’s good for both of you. His line of work is—we probably shouldn’t talk about it, now should we? What sort of things do you do for fun, Abigail?”

“I’m a prosecuting attorney in DC. What do you do?”

His mother took a long drink of tea before answering. “I cook meals for James as often as I can get him over here. I knit, too, and take care of a whole charm of noisy finches. And I’ve got a big ol’ dog sleeping outside who’ll just go crazy if we don’t go hunting for something at least once a week. Do you like to fish? Some good fishing on the Potomac.”

“No. I don’t fish. Or hunt.”

“You should try it sometime. I find it relaxes the mind.”

“I prefer to keep my mind sharp.”

“I have no doubt that you do, hon. I’m just saying you might want to take it into consideration.”

“Noted.”

The two women drank their iced teas in silence. Abigail thought that Riley’s mother—Lisa—was considerably less perceptive than her son, and she wondered where Riley had gained his talent for insight.

Then Lisa surprised her.

“I knew your mama and daddy.”

The words hung in the air for several long seconds before Abigail could think of how to answer. “You knew my parents?”

“Sure did. In Taiwan, when you were a baby. I never saw you, at least not after you got out of diapers. You had a different name back then, too. Bai Xi, right?”

Abigail could only nod.

Lisa gave her a moment to process the information, looking away as she stirred her tea. “Your parents were close to me and my husband for a while. We were friends.”

Abigail fished around for what to possibly say next. The conversational thread stunned her. While she’d known that Riley’s parents had been in Taiwan at the same time as her family, she’d never imagined that they’d been connected. Taiwan at that time, as now, was an enormous, bustling metropolis, packed with people, including thousands of Americans. “You were in the Peace Corps, right?”

Lisa’s perfectly symmetrical smile was broad. “That’s right. We were in the Peace Corps, though I can’t say we did much for peace, considering the current state of affairs in Asia.”

“Do you still work for the government?”

“I can’t say that I do.”

The woman’s simple answers suddenly seemed terribly complicated. Abigail wanted to know more, but she sensed that pushing her for detail would be the wrong method. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, affecting disinterest. “It was all a very long time ago.”

“And yet such a coincidence that you and my boy find each other. Your mother and I used to joke about such things. I always said that you’d marry each other one day.”

“That’s hardly likely.”

“Maybe.” His mother shrugged and licked her spoon. “But I can tell you that I haven’t seen my boy look this happy since before his daddy died.”

Abigail’s stomach fluttered. Quick footsteps alerted her to Riley’s arrival in the kitchen.

“Everything’s locked now, and I didn’t find any burglars or murderers hanging out in your closets.”

“That’s good, Son. I do try to keep them out.”

“You could try a lot harder.” Riley walked to his mother and kissed her on top of her head. “Please, please,
please
, for me, lock your doors.”

“For you, I’ll consider it.”

Riley rolled his eyes and walked around the table to sit next to Abigail. He drank deeply from the remaining glass of iced tea.

“There’s nothing like coming home. You two getting to know each other?”

Awkward silence was his answer.

“Let me get you those snacks I mentioned.” Lisa walked to the fridge and began preparing cheese, ham, and sandwich rolls on a plate.

Riley looked at Abigail. “What’s happening?”

She cleared her throat. “Your mother seems to have known my parents. In Taiwan.”

“No kidding?”

“You know me better than that.”

He grinned before looking away. “Mom? What’s this about you knowing Abigail’s family?”

“Oh yes,” his mother answered. “We were friends, at least as much as we could be given how often we moved around. Your mother is a great lady, Abigail. Where is she living now?”

“Not far from here,” Abigail said softly, wondering whether her mother knew how close her old friend was.

“Not far from here.” The other woman stopped her food preparations and turned, leaning against the worn black countertop. “All these years, she’s just been living around the corner?”

“More or less.”

“Well I’ll be damned. I wonder if she’d like to see me.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Riley asked.

“No reason. It’s been such a long time, that’s all.” Lisa picked up the tray of food and carried it to the table.

The smell of smoked meat made Abigail’s mouth water. She realized how terrifically hungry she was, and she dove into the feast with both hands. The rolls were soft, yeasty, and fresh, the cheese was some kind of hard cheddar with a decidedly sharp bite, and the dry, salty ham was the best she’d ever tasted.

“You know, it’s funny that you know Abigail’s mother,” Riley said, “because I just met her a few days ago and thought that you two would get along well. I actually invited her over to see your garden.”

“Well, I’ll be darned. And what did she think about that?”

“She seemed to like the idea just fine.” Abigail answered without giving it much consideration. But then she recalled the look of fear on her mother’s face when Riley had made the suggestion while in her backyard. There was more to this story than a friendship strained by time and distance. “How is it that you knew my father wasn’t around, Mrs. Riley?”

Slathering mayonnaise on bread, his mother didn’t look up. “I’m not sure I did.”

“You haven’t asked about him. You’re nothing if not polite, and it seems that if you had any expectation of my mother and father still being together, you’d have asked after his health at the very least.”

“Forgive me if I’ve insulted you by not asking after your daddy. I trust he’s healthy as a horse and kicking like a wild ass. But I did know that your parents weren’t together. I was still in touch with your family back when…when you and your mother moved to the States. And Abigail,” she said, her green eyes softened, “I am polite enough to realize that when a young woman hasn’t seen her daddy in a while, you don’t go asking her about his well-being.”

Abigail hated to think she wore her abandonment on her sleeve, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. “No, I’m not insulted. It’s just that my mother expressed some trepidation about seeing you, and I wonder why.”

“Abigail,” Riley said, admonishing her to be quiet.

“It’s OK, Son. Hon, I think I know why your mama would be afraid of me, and it’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?”

“Oh, I imagine you’re wondering whether I had an affair with your father, and if that’s what drove your family apart.”

Riley coughed. “Is it?” he croaked.

His mother turned, saw the look of horror on his face, and laughed. “Oh Lord, no. Baby, you belong to me and your daddy, Scott. And Abigail, you are so clearly Fei and Peter’s daughter that I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you get out of the car.”

Abigail warmed. “You knew me immediately?”

“You look enough like your mama to tickle my memory, that’s for sure. But honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you two together. Fate is hard at work in our lives, though your mama never agreed with me on that. I used to tell her that our babies would end up married, and she always told me that we couldn’t control the future. I suppose she was right on that count. Besides, your father loved your mother more than his own life.” Lisa screwed the lid back on the jar of mayonnaise.

“That’s a relief,” Riley said, and resumed eating his sandwich with his usual focus.

Abigail took a bite of her own sandwich and momentarily lost herself in the delicious combination of flavors. Then she remembered her unanswered question. “Then why is my mother afraid to see you?”

“Your mother never liked thinking about the past. It kept her from dwelling on how much her life had changed, for better or for worse. She was the most resilient woman I’ve ever known.”

“And you’re from the past?”

“Indeed I am. From a painful part of it, and I imagine that your mother has very much moved on from it, and from me.”

“It’s terrible to think that my mother could turn her back on a friend.”

“It’s only terrible if you don’t know what else she had to turn her back on. Sometimes you have to forget the good along with the bad. That’s what your mother always seemed to think, anyhow. She was never nostalgic about what she’d lost.”

“She’s the most nostalgic person I know. Her garden is the embodiment of China—and even that’s a myth she’s created for herself. I don’t think she’s ever been to her supposed homeland.”

Lisa sighed sadly. “Everybody falters, Abigail. If Fei Mason has turned her garden into the land of her youth, the land of her greatest happiness, I’d say she’s in need of a good friend.”

Abigail chewed thoughtfully. Riley’s mother had a way of talking that made Abigail feel chided but not ashamed. It was how talking to a mother should feel.

She had one more question on her mind. “You really think my father loved my mother more than his own life?”

“I surely do. It’s a fact.”

“A fact? How can you say that about a man who never returned to his family?”

“Because I knew the man and the woman, and I can promise you that they loved each other beyond all reason.”

“Then why did he leave her?”

Lisa’s eyes turned razor-sharp, even as she kept her tone light. “I really can’t say.”

“W
ELL, THAT DIDN’T
go anything like how I expected,” Riley said to Abigail as they walked single-file down a worn dirt path that led away from his mother’s house.