Faerie Tale (31 page)

Aggie rose. “Well then, I’m for home.”

Mark and Gary agreed it was past quitting time, and bade Phil and Gloria good night as well. They walked Aggie to her car, then followed her out the driveway.

As Mark’s car pulled away, Phil said, “Secret societies, huh?”

Gloria was quiet, then said, “And weird documents. It’s all kind of scary, somehow.”

Phil looked at his wife. “Scary? I would have said exciting. And there’s still the question of the gold. Maybe that wasn’t such a story after all.”

Almost sarcastically, Gloria said, “Want to get a shovel and go look for buried treasure?”

Grabbing his wife playfully, he swung her about and said, “Got all the treasure I want right here.” He kissed her, slipping his hand down to squeeze her rump. Gloria remained tense, not returning Phil’s playful affection. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Gloria put her head on Phil’s shoulder. “Mark’s lying to us, Phil. He’s been covering something up since he set eyes on the room.”

Phil looked down at his wife. “Aren’t you making a bit much of this? Aggie told us Mark likes to keep quiet on his work. He’s even said he doesn’t like talking about it. He’s just being cautious.”

Gloria sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” But she knew he wasn’t.

Gloria hung up the phone. “That was Mark.”

Phil, sitting behind his desk, looked to where his wife stood in the hallway and said, “What’s up?”

“He’s flying out to New York tonight. He says they’ve hit a wall, so they’re going to consult with some people. Gary’s taking copies of some of the more exotic stuff to his friends at the University of Washington and Mark’s going to talk to some people he knows at NYU.”

Phil was alerted to an odd note in his wife’s voice. “Something worrying you, hon?”

Gloria stood hugging herself and shook her head as if clearing it. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just.…”

“What?”

“I don’t know, but I had the strangest feeling when Mark hung up that … that I’d never hear from him again.”

Phil began a quip, then stopped himself as he realized that his wife was really disturbed. He rose and went over to her. “Hey, Irish, what is this?” he said softly, taking her into his arms and holding her gently.

“You haven’t called me that in years,” she said. She rested her head on his chest. “It’s just a cold feeling.”

Phil hesitated a moment, then reached around his wife and picked up the phone. He dialed as Gloria said, “What?”

“Wait.” The phone at the other end rang, then was picked up. Phil said, “Mark, Phil. When are you leaving?” An answer came, and Phil said, “Well, look. Why don’t you and Gary both come by, then we’ll all drive up to Buffalo together for dinner? Then we’ll hang out with Gary in the airport bar until his plane leaves. That way he won’t have to sit around the terminal by himself for two hours. And you won’t get stuck for long-term parking fees. No, no trouble. We’d enjoy it.” He hung up.

Gloria said, “What was that?”

“Mark’s plane leaves at ten tonight and Gary’s catching the red-eye at midnight. And this way you can shake that feeling you’ll never see Mark again.” He glanced at his watch. “You can see him in about two hours. He’ll be here at five.”

Gloria smiled. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For not making fun.”

He shrugged off the remark as the door in the kitchen banged closed behind the twins. “Ma!” echoed through the house as Patrick announced his brother’s and his arrival. The swinging door opened and the twins marched into view, Sean holding a bunch of envelopes. “Mail’s here,” he informed them.

Phil took the mail as Gloria said, “Guess who baked some tollhouse cookies today?”

With a shout of approval, the twins moved with their mother toward the kitchen while Phil employed the silver letter opener that Aggie had given him to discover how much this month’s American Express bill would prove to be. The opener reminded him of Aggie and he shouted to his wife, “Better call over to Aggie’s and tell Gabbie we’ll need her to watch the boys tonight.” He shook his head. Without fanfare, Gabbie had begun spending nights over there and for the last few days had hardly been seen by the Hastings household, except in the barn. No matter how much in love with Jack she might be, she’d never neglect the horses. Then Phil glanced at the last letter in the stack; he looked at it again, staring at the return address as if for a moment he couldn’t believe his senses. Then he shouted, “And tell her she’s got a letter here. From her mother.”

Gabbie’s face was an unreadable mask as she finished the letter. Folding it slowly, she looked at her father and began to laugh. “Mom got married.”

Phil blinked and said, “She’s married?”

Gloria watched the reaction with interest. The only subject in Phil’s past that had been off limits had been Corinne. Phil had given Gloria the barest facts and refused to discuss his first marriage further. When they had begun dating, Gloria had worried that Phil carried a torch for his first wife. She quickly learned that was as far from the truth as anything could be. Gloria knew there was a lot of hostility and anger still dormant within Phil, but there were also other feelings, feelings not shared. It was the only thing Gloria felt left out of where Phil was concerned.

Gabbie continued her laughing, a deeply amused sound tinged with a note of bitterness. “She married Jacques Jeneau.”

Gloria’s eyes widened. “The French millionaire?”

Phil’s mouth turned up at the corners, and his eyes brimmed. For a moment Gloria feared he was on the verge of crying, but suddenly he threw back his head and laughed. He was nearly convulsing, laughing so hard he fell back over the arm of the small couch opposite his desk, landing with a thud. He lay back, laughing. “Jeneau!” he croaked.

Gabbie’s laughter echoed her father’s and she had to wipe a tear away as she became caught up in her father’s hilarity. Their laughter bounced back and forth, feeding off itself, until Gabbie had to sit down and hold her breath to stop.

Jack, who had been quietly standing by the hall door, said to Gloria, “What’s so funny?” She shrugged, indicating ignorance.

Phil lay back, arm over his eyes, for a moment, his laughter diminishing to a continuous chuckle. At last he took a deep breath and then sighed. Gabbie covered her face with her hand, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. Jack politely asked, “Who’s Jacques Jeneau?”

Phil sat up, also wiping tears from his face, as he said, “Ah, therein lies a tale.”

He got up and went to kneel beside his daughter. He put his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tight, a rare display of physical affection between them. “You all right, kiddo?”

Gabbie’s laughter had halted and she looked at her father, her eyes red from tearing. She sniffed and nodded. “Yup.” She kissed him on the cheek, then said, “Some joke, huh?”

Gloria said, “If it’s not a bother, what’s so damn funny?”

Phil continued to kneel beside Gabbie. “Jacques Jeneau is a French playboy who spends his time with slow boats and fast women. His hobbies are losing yacht races and divorce suits.” He sat on the floor, his arm resting across Gabbie’s knees. “We met him at a reception in New York, in ’66, I think. It was some charity thing. Anyway, Corinne got a fair share of invitations to those affairs because of her family, even though we were poor and just getting by. And we went to a number of them—the ones we didn’t have to contribute to get into, anyway. There were always plenty of free drinks and pretty good buffets. At this one Jeneau made a pass at Corinne.” He smiled in remembrance. “This was before she got radical, but even then she called him a parasite. We saw him a half-dozen times after that, and every time he came on to her. We treated it like a joke. He’s been chasing her on and off for twenty years. Look’s like he finally caught her. Some joke.”

Gabbie said, “The joke is this letter.” She sighed and looked at Jack. “So much for the grande dame of the Left. Will you look at that engraved stationery! It must have come from some designer shop in Paris, for Christ’s sake.”

Gloria couldn’t stand it any longer and took the letter from Gabbie’s hand. She read it, then said, “So she’s sorry for the lost years and wants you to come visit?”

Gabbie stood. “It’s a little late.” She went to stand next to Jack, who put his arms around her.

“Don’t be too hard, Gabbie,” said Phil as he stood up. “Maybe she’s mellowed in her old age.”

“If she married Jeneau, she didn’t mellow; she moldered.” She made a face. “I met him at a rich people’s reception at Grandmother’s. He made a pass at me! And I was all of fifteen!”

Jack grinned. “So? You were probably pretty hot stuff for a fifteen-year-old, or is he just a dirty-old-man type?”

“Old?” Gabbie sighed in resignation. “No, in fact he’s gorgeous. Like a Robert Redford with big brown eyes and ginger hair, with perfect grey at the temples. And a body like a gymnast’s. All dripping with Gallic suavity. It’s just he’s so damn obvious. He’s used to having women throw themselves at him. I think he was halfway shocked and amused when I walked away from him.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” said Phil. “He’s been intrigued with Corinne for years. I guess he just couldn’t stand being turned down.”

Gloria tapped her chin with the folded letter. “As the Chinese say, ‘May you live in interesting times.’ Well, it’s been yucks, kids, but if you’re going to have any dinner, I still better check on the roast. Mark and Gary should be here soon.” Passing Gabbie, she handed back the letter.

Phil headed toward the doorway, saying, “It might not be too bad a honeymoon, kids. The South of France isn’t hard to take.”

Gabbie looked at Jack. “What do you think?”

“I think we’ll do what you want. We could always work it so we pass through Nice for a day. Cocktails on the yacht; that sort of thing. Then we could split if it gets too uncomfortable.”

Gabbie sighed. “I’ll think about it. Maybe we should see Mom, at least once.”

Phil said softly, “Ah, now you know where she is, maybe you should invite her to the wedding?”

“I’ll think about that, too.” With a small hint of anger, she said, “She didn’t invite me to hers.”

Phil put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I understand. Whatever you want, okay?” The sound of a car approaching the house intruded. “That’ll be Mark and Gary. We’ll be back after midnight.”

Gabbie nodded. “Have a good time.”

Gloria appeared and took her coat from the closet as Mark knocked on the door. Quickly Gloria gave last-minute instructions about dinner and stuck her head into the parlor to say good night to the boys. Soon Mark’s car was heading out of the driveway and Gabbie and Jack were alone in the study.

Jack studied Gabbie’s face in the soft glow of the porch light coming in the window and wondered what was going on in that complex head of hers. He knew she was enduring mixed emotions where her mother was concerned, but he also knew she’d decide to do what was right for her, with no bullshit or apology. It was one of the qualities that made him crazy about her. She sighed and put her head on his shoulder, without words, and they fell into that warm glow simply being together gave them, while from the parlor the sound of gunfire informed them the twins had discovered something diverting among the hundred-plus channels Phil’s dish could pull in. For a quiet time nothing was spoken, then Gabbie kissed Jack lightly on the cheek and said, “Come on, lover. Let’s feed the monsters.” With a mock groan at being forced to quit the comfort of the couch, Jack rose and followed Gabbie to the kitchen.

Gabbie rushed down the hall as the phone rang for the fifth time. She was dripping wet and furious as she attempted to keep the towel wrapped around her. As she sped past the twins’ room, she said, “Thanks, brats!”

Sean and Patrick looked up from where they were reading comic books and exchanged questioning glances. They had no idea what she was talking about. They had both been off in a four-color world populated by costumed superheroes and space adventures, and something as mundane as a phone ringing was not going to break their concentration. Patrick looked out the window, heavily streaked by rain, and silently wondered,
Is it ever going to stop?

“Sure,” said Sean. “Just in time for school on Monday.” Neither thought it odd they shared that silent communication from time to time. They had been doing it since birth.

Patrick returned to his comic, grumbling inaudibly. School was more than a month old and the rain had seemed constant since the second day. Either it was pouring, or the ground at the park was too muddy to play ball. Now another Saturday was almost shot. They hadn’t played an inning in three weeks and both were feeling deprived. The kids at school didn’t want to play baseball much anymore, anyway. It was football season, and while both twins liked touch football, it wasn’t the same as a good baseball game. It was a sure sign the summer was long gone, the next an impossibly distant time away. Besides, next year was Little League, and while excited at the prospect of organized play, the boys also sensed that some element of freedom was slipping from their young lives.

Sean studied his brother. His own sense of gloom was reflected back by Patrick’s, but with that reflection came a darker shadow. Sean knew Patrick still seethed inside to get back at the Bad Thing, but hoped that with school occupying his energies Patrick would become content to wait through the last two weeks of October, until November 1, when all the Good People left. But deep within he knew it was unlikely. Patrick was an open book for Sean. Sometime soon Patrick would act.

Gabbie stormed back in the other direction, halting long enough to say, “Damn salesman! If the phone rings again while Pm in the bath, one of you monsters better pick it up or I’ll.…” She let the sentence go unfinished as her little brothers showed nothing resembling concern over the vague threat; she hadn’t the faintest notion of what she’d do if they didn’t. And the towel was small enough that it didn’t quite cover most of what Gabbie wanted covered. The comic struggle with the towel undermined her attempt at looking menacing. She gave up and left.