Kindred Spirits (14 page)

“We should go,” Carol said.

Beth’s cell rang, another excuse to leave. “Thank you so much for letting us into your home,” Beth said, checking the number and heading out the door. “I’m sorry. I have to take this. It’s from my mother.”

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Mary Kay said, grasping the woman’s hand in hers.

Therese wouldn’t let go. “When are you going to see Eunice?”

“If all goes according to plan, tomorrow.”

“Then pass on a message from me, would you? If she doesn’t want to talk about Lynne, just remind her of our trip to Dorney Park.”

“Dorney Park,” Mary Kay repeated. “And she’ll understand what that means?”

“She’ll understand. It was the day she found out she was pregnant after fifteen long years of trying. We’d all but given up hope.”

Something stirred within Mary Kay. “You mean Eunice couldn’t have children?”

“Not according to the doctors. That baby was a miracle, a true gift from God, and those two were like peas in the pod. When Lynne was tiny, she didn’t go anywhere without holding her mother’s hand. So maybe you understand why Lynne’s running away and not speaking to her again was like a dagger to my sister’s heart.”

“I understand,” Carol said from where she’d been listening on the porch. “I understand all too well.”

Therese dropped Mary Kay’s hand and regarded Carol with an eagle’s eye. “Then let me impart a word of wisdom. Don’t wait until it’s too late to set things right. You don’t want to get a visit from three strange women telling you your daughter died and she didn’t even care enough to say good-bye. That’s enough to break any mother’s heart.”

While Beth took the call from her mother, Carol and Mary Kay crossed the street toward the car.

“Wow,” Carol said, trying to process Therese’s message. “That was intense in a way I didn’t anticipate. So much water under the bridge.”

Mary Kay activated the automatic lock and Carol got in the back. She leaned against the window, her head heavy with thoughts.

Mary Kay slipped behind the wheel, replaying the moment on Therese’s porch. Eunice had tried for fifteen years to get pregnant. Then Lynne was born and she assumed her life was complete. But look at how that had turned out. Babies were no assurance of happily ever after.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have a child of her own. Closing her eyes, she let herself visualize the pink plus sign on the drugstore test, the bubble of glee rising in her throat, the awe of her body’s miraculous abilities. No worry or fear. Merely pure, unadulterated joy.

She could see herself laughing as Drake gathered her in his strong arms and lay her on the couch insisting that for the next nine months she not move a muscle. Knowing him, he’d insist on high-protein diets that he’d cooked with his own two hands. . ..

Beth yanked open the driver’s side door and Mary Kay snapped out of her daydream, scolding herself for engaging in a stupid, dangerous fantasy. If her therapist found out, she’d have a cow.

“Sorry about that,” Beth said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “While I was on the phone, Aunt Therese was able to find out information about Lynne’s old hospital. Apparently, the doctor’s name was Dorfman. We looked him up in the phone book and found his number.” Beth was flushed with excitement. “If you’re not too wiped out, I say we stop by his house this afternoon. Therese says he doesn’t live too far from here, in Scenic Valley.”

Carol doubted that would get them anywhere. “It was thirty years ago and one baby among hundreds he delivered. Besides, I’d like to squeeze in a run before it gets dark.”

Beth cranked the ignition. “Gee, Carol. I thought you were a risk taker.”

“Are you the risk taker?” Mary Kay asked, pretending to be insulted. “How come I’m not the risk taker? I’ll have you know that last week I forgot to take my calcium and went two whole days without leafy green vegetables.”

“You can be the risk taker next time,” Beth said. “Right now, it’s my turn. I got the distinct impression from what Therese said that it was Dorfman’s idea to have Lynne give up her baby right away. Maybe if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have run away and everything would have been different.”

Carol relented. Beth was so loyal to Lynne, so fiercely determined to set things right, it was impossible to deny her. “OK. Let’s do it on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That if it’s dark by the time we get to our hotel, you guys have to go for a run with me. It’ll be safer and we could all do with some exercise after so much sitting.”

“Gee, I’d love to,” Mary Kay said, searching for an excuse. “But I’m feeling a little queasy after all this driving. I’ll be fine after a toes-up, I’m sure. Anyway, someone has to hit the grocery store for tonight’s dinner.”

“You’re pathetic, MK. How about you, Beth? Someone has to go with me. Don’t make me go alone.”

“Ugh.” Beth made it a practice to avoid anything that smacked of athletics.

“Don’t groan,” Carol said. “A good three-mile run could shake out some of the frustration you’re feeling. Raise your endorphins.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to take a lot more than a jog to get rid of this anger.” She paused dramatically. “It’s gonna take justice.”

“And a sports bra and running shoes,” Mary Kay quipped. “We’ll make a pit stop at a mall on our way to the hotel to get you outfitted. My treat.”

“No, Mary Kay, I couldn’t allow that.”

“I insist. And you’re not getting out of gym class that easily, Mrs. Levinson. You’ll need more than a note from Lady Justice.”

Underneath Beth’s scowl lurked a little smile. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“You’re right. You can’t blame a girl for trying. Tease, poke fun at, ridicule mercilessly, yes.” Mary Kay’s violet eyes twinkled in mischief. “But blame? Never.”

I
t took a serious pep talk to summon the courage to drop by Dr. Dorfman’s house out of the blue on a Saturday afternoon. As they snaked past mansion after mansion in Scenic Valley, past circular driveways and graceful weeping willows, deep turquoise in-ground swimming pools peeking from behind wrought-iron fences, and signs warning of private security, they had to remind one another again why they were disturbing a retired physician’s afternoon, brandishing lurid allegations.

“He took her baby,” Beth said, clutching the wheel as Mary Kay read off the house numbers. “This man yanked Julia out of Lynne’s outstretched arms and then gave her a shot to knock her out so she couldn’t fight.”

“Steamrolled, is what he did,” Mary Kay said. “It’s the next house, hon.”

“And might even have profited from the adoption, which would have been completely illegal. Though, from the look of these houses, quite lucrative.” Carol let out a snort of disgust as they slowed to the Dorfman mansion, where a black stretch limousine idled in the driveway.

“Maybe we should call first,” Mary Kay said.

“Or contact his lawyer,” Carol added.

“Nope, we have to do this now. For Lynne.” Beth opened the door and got out. Mary Kay and Carol followed as Beth took charge and stormed up the walk.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into our Beth,” Mary Kay said.

Carol said, “I’d say her best friend died.”

Beth waited for the others to catch up at the door before ringing the bell. Carol positioned herself by a planter overflowing with red mums as she assessed the manicured lawn and the golf course on the opposite side of the road. The peaceful stateliness of this grand old neighborhood reminded her of her house back in Marshfield and she wondered if Beth and Mary Kay had been right, that selling it was really her decision.

It’d be a delightful place to retire and enjoy the lake and the gardens without the disruption of work. She and Jeff had been too busy to fully appreciate their location when the children were smaller and Jeff was preoccupied with establishing his practice, when they were building the future that Carol managed to destroy in one hellish night.

After what seemed like an eternity, an elegant older woman opened the front door. She was regal in a pewter chiffon gown with a lace bolero jacket, diamonds at the throat and ears, a silver clutch purse in her hand. She took a step and stopped, startled, as if she hadn’t even seen them there.

“Hello?” she questioned.

Beth stuck out her hand and introduced them by full names each. “We’re here to see Dr. Dorfman.”

The woman batted her eyes rapidly. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We’re on our way to a wedding in Philadelphia and already we’re late.”

Which would explain the idling limo.

“We’re asking only for a few minutes of his time,” Beth said boldly. “We’ve come from Connecticut.”

Insinuating herself, Carol said, “Mrs. Dorfman, we’re here about a friend of ours who died last week. She was a patient of your husband’s long, long ago. This concerns her last will and testament and it’s a matter of rather grave importance.”

Mrs. Dorfman set her square jaw. “I’m sorry you ladies have come all this way, but you should have called first. Or at least waited until Monday.”

“Who is it, Marta?” A beefy hand clutched the door, opening it wider. Dr. Dorfman—or so they assumed—was rather dashing in a full tuxedo, complete with a pewter silk cummerbund to match his wife’s dress. He brushed back a wisp of hair and regarded them with a gentle, if paternalistic, gaze. Mary Kay noticed his nails were filed and buffed to a shine.

Nervously, Marta introduced them as “Women from Connecticut. They
claim
they’re here to speak with you about a former patient.”

“Lynne Flannery,” Beth said. “Though you would have known her as Lynne Swann. She was a teenage mother who gave birth in December 1980. I know, that’s a ridiculously long time ago, but if you can remember anything about that birth, we’d be eternally grateful.”

“I told them we were off to a wedding in Philadelphia, but. . .”

Dr. Dorfman gave her a look, indicating he would handle the situation. “Come in,” he said with a stern wave toward a formal slate entry. He closed the door and folded his arms. “Marta, tell the driver I’ll be there in a few minutes. This won’t take long.”

Marta shook her head in disapproval but obeyed, scurrying down a hall. When they heard a door slam, he said more kindly than they would have expected, “So this is about Lynne Swann, is it?”

The color rose to Beth’s cheeks. “You remember her?”

“I don’t remember all my patients, I’m afraid. But Lynne was a special case. Please, have a seat.”

Beth sat on a chintz-covered chair while Carol and Mary Kay perched on the blue carpeted stairs, unable to believe their amazing luck. Dr. Dorfman sat on a bench made for slipping on shoes, elbows resting on his knees. A brass pendulum swung in a grandfather clock next to a marble-topped table decorated with a Chinese vase. The house smelled of perfume and furniture oil.

“She wanted to be an artist, right? Always had a sketch pad and those pastels,” he said, eyes crinkling.