Lake Effect (7 page)

Wyeth fought hard not to let the shock of her statement show on his face. Dammit all to hell, how would she know about that?

Shelby pulled the car down the long, scenic and winding drive. Wasn't this always the way? Some of the prettiest park settings she'd ever been in were cemeteries, and Woodvale was no exception. She didn't come here often. She hadn't been here in over a year. She and Jack had often spoken of it. They'd always figured on cremation — no burial plot, just dust in the wind.

“Take me to the lake and just let my ashes float away, baby. I know it's illegal but who would know?”
Then he'd laugh that all encompassing laugh of his and Shelby would laugh too. They'd chosen this spot together, or, she should say, Jack had chosen this spot. After their baby had died; she hadn't been in the best frame of mind at the time to make such a decision.
“We can put her here and then, when the time comes, our ashes too.”
Little had either of them known just how soon that time would be for him.
“Look, sweetheart. There's a stream and these trees will flower really pretty in the springtime.”
How could he have known he was picking out his own resting place as well?

She pulled the car over to the side of the wide drive and put it in park. Norman was always well behaved here. He walked beside her so solemnly and reverently she had to smile. She reached down and patted his head. “I know you miss him too, buddy.”

Together they walked the rest of the way and stood beside the grave. The grounds were beautifully kept here and there wasn't a weed or a leaf that needed to be pulled or swept. Jack had been right, of course, the cherry trees and crab apples when in full bloom were amazing, a plethora of pinks and whites, stunning to see. It really was a magnificent spot. Even now, in mid-June with the blooms gone, it was wonderful. The stream offered a serene babbling sound as it rushed over the stones, full from recent rains. Shelby smiled as she looked back at the grave, touched the headstone, said a prayer and made her way back to the car. She never knew when she'd come back but she knew Jack didn't care. He'd told her that many times.
“It's just a park full of stones and bones, babe. Souls were meant to fly, not lie in the ground forever.”

“I hope you're flying, Jack, and I hope Kyrie's flying with you. I know she is. I know you're together.” She'd told Wyeth about Jack but she hadn't been able to bring herself to talk about Kyrie. She knew he'd understand, but would knowing this change the way he felt about her, the way he looked at her? Would he find her grief too great a burden? No, he wasn't ready to hear this and she wasn't ready to share it with him just yet. If and when their relationship turned into something deeper, something more, then she would share Kyrie with him, but not yet. Norman hopped into the car without any fuss, stretched out across the back seat and released a deep sigh. The drive to the lake wasn't too far from the cemetery.

There was a certain exhilaration that came with boarding the ferry back to Whiskey Island. It had always been a feeling of escape for Shelby. When Jack and she would come for the weekends it was an escape from their working worlds and later, afterwards, it became an escape from her grief. Shelby parked her car on the deck, got out and stood by the rail, the wind blowing back her hair, breathing in the warming air of summer. Would Wyeth be there when she got back? Probably not. She knew the benefit he'd invited her to was coming up soon — too soon now for her to change her mind and attend. She tried to picture it but just couldn't.

You're being silly,
she scolded herself.
You wouldn't fit in a group like that. Those people were born to do benefits and parties. You wouldn't have a thing to wear that was appropriate.
Shelby reminded herself that money was no longer an issue — would never be an issue. Jack had made sure of that. She'd been shocked when the insurance company told her the house and the cottage would both be paid off. She'd gotten top dollar for his share of the construction business from his partners. At first she thought they were just being overly kind and generous to her. It had taken her lifelong friend and attorney, Rick, to assure her she was getting a fair price and so were the partners.

It had taken a year for the estate to be settled. All that money meant that she would live quite comfortably for the rest of her days, but Shelby took little comfort in it. She'd never needed much money and without someone to share it with it was all rather hollow. She'd done without for so long she'd never get used to just buying what she wanted when she wanted it. The only thing she'd ever seriously considered buying had been the old manor house.

Shelby always thought it would've made a marvelous bed and breakfast, something the island needed desperately too. The Grand was lovely but only if you wanted to come to the island during the season. The few B&Bs around were always booked to capacity, a few with waiting lists a year long.

She thought of Wyeth, her hand in his as he showed her through each of the manor house's rooms. He'd done a wonderful job with the restoration.
He'd done a wonderful job kissing you too.

The deep horn of the ferry blew the fog of her dreams away. She turned from the rail and made her way back to the car. Norman hated the ferry and hated the horn even more. She looked at him in the back seat and patted his head. “You poor miserable creature, we're almost home.”

The evening sun was just beginning to set as she drove off the boat and onto the main road. The emergency clinic sat just to the left of the docks. One of the reasons she and Jack had chosen Whiskey Island over the others was the fact that medical help was available here year round. It wasn't a hospital by any stretch, but it'd keep you alive until you could be flown out to one.

Shelby turned into the clinic's drive when she noticed Cheri Beauchamp's car there. Norman, just content to be back on dry land, was more than happy to lie still while she ran in.

“Shelby! Honey I'm so glad to see you. How'd everything go?” This was so typical Cheri that Shelby had to smile as she received her bear hug.

“Everything went great. Cheri, why are you here? Is it Len, is he okay?”

“He's fine, sweetheart. The old goat slipped and twisted his ankle.” She giggled. “Just so happens that Len's poker buddy, Mac Sawyer, is the physician on call tonight. He's taking full advantage of having Len incapacitated and has run every test he can.”

Shelby relaxed. “Well,” she said, slipping off her coat. “Looks like I'll just have to sit here and keep you company.”

The older woman smiled and gave Shelby another big hug. “I'd like that.”

• • •

It'd been very late when Len had finally satisfied Dr. Sawyer. Shelby was glad she'd stayed. She and Cheri had talked and talked. She hadn't even unpacked her car when she'd gotten home, just let Norman in the backyard for a moment or two and then gone straight to bed.

The next morning she was wide awake and ready to face the day. First thing on her agenda: a nice long run, then empty out the car. She was just carrying in the last box when she noticed the express envelope by her door. It must've been delivered while she was gone. She'd been so tired last night she'd walked right past it. It was postmarked New York but had no return address. That was odd. She didn't know anyone in New York except Wyeth. She grew excited; perhaps he'd sent her something. Before she could open it her phone started ringing.

“Finally, you're home. I've been trying to reach you for a few days now; I was starting to get worried. You really should have a cell phone.” Wyeth's deep voice made Shelby momentarily forget all about the envelope in her hand.

“Hi.” She managed to say it without sounding breathy or shy, thank God! Even if she felt like a giggling teen, she sure didn't want to sound like one. “I'm fine and you're sweet to worry. I had to run back to Bennett's Corners; my house sold. It was all very sudden. I tried calling you but the office said you'd left.”

“Yes, I had some urgent business to tend to back at the main office of Packard Corporation. My secretary should've given you my cell phone. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, I'm stuck here until that business is completed. Your house sold? That's great news, I think. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel pretty good, to tell you the truth. It's a very nice couple, young. They're in their early twenties.”
Just like Jack and I were once.
She left that part out. “The house will be perfect for them. Isn't your mom's big function coming up?”

“Yes, it's tonight.” She could hear from his tone of voice he wasn't looking forward to it. “I wish you were here to go with me. It's going to be a very long and boring night without you.”

Shelby laughed. “I'm sure you'll manage to have a good time. Len Beauchamp had to go to the emergency clinic yesterday. I spent the better part of the evening there with Cheri, but everything is okay.” They talked for another few moments. She filled him in on all the happenings and how Norman was still recovering from his ride on the ferry.

“I'd better let you go. I'm sure you have things to get done before your big gala tonight.”

“I'm sure my mother has a list a mile long. I really will miss you tonight, Shelby. I'm hoping to conclude this business quickly so I can get back. Would it be okay if I call you later?”

“Sure, I'd like that. And Wyeth, I'll miss you too.” She could hear his intake of breath. So he felt the same way she did.

“Great. Have a good day. Pet Norman for me.”

Shelby looked down at the big dog now looking at her expectantly, as if he had heard the entire conversation. “I will. Thanks for calling.”

“My pleasure. Talk to you tonight.”

She hung up the phone already anticipating his evening call. She grabbed an apple out of the bowl on her kitchen table, sunk her teeth into it, and sat down with the package in hand. The cardboard envelope was the type she'd received documents in before but always from Rick's office in Cleveland, not New York. Setting her apple down, she carefully pulled the perforated tab on the back and widened the opening, careful not to cut her fingers while doing so.

She stopped chewing and felt her heart fall to her stomach. What spilled out from the envelope was not what she had expected. It was a group of newspaper and magazine pages showing Wyeth with woman after woman. Some were blondes, some were brunettes, some had jet-black tresses. These weren't just any women. These were society women, models, long and leggy, perfect in every way. There were some famous faces in there too, an actress, a singer, good grief, wasn't that one on a reality show about real housewives? There certainly wasn't anyone who remotely resembled herself.

Shelby looked down at her running shorts and tennis shoes. On her best day, in her best outfit, she wouldn't hold a candle to any of these women. This was his world; this was what he liked. She could never compete with this. Whoever sent this knew that and was doing her a favor. Carefully she placed the clippings back in the envelope, examining it one more time for a hint of who may have sent it. She walked over to the space under the steps and, folding down the front of her desk, slid the envelope into one of the slots.

• • •

“Let me straighten your tie.” Wyeth smiled as Olivia straightened his already straight tie and brushed her hands over each shoulder as if he were heading out the door to school. “There, you look very handsome. Your father would be so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mother.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “You look lovely yourself. I'm sure there will be more than one man wanting a dance with you tonight, but remember, the first one is mine.”

“If I can get you a way from the women; as I recall there is generally a waiting list.” He frowned at her as he held the house door open. There was only one woman whose arms he wanted to be in and right now she was probably curled up in an overstuffed chair reading a book, five hundred some miles away.

The benefit went like all these functions went: lots of mindless chatter, lots of posturing, speeches and cocktails. Finally, Wyeth was able to steal away to the front lobby to make his phone call. Shelby answered on the second ring but her voice sounded small and sad.

“Hey, what's the matter?”

Silence followed and then he heard her take a deep breath. “Nothing, everything is fine.”

Wyeth had been around long enough to know that the words “nothing” and “fine” were code for “everything” and “it's all your fault.”

“You sound a little down. Is it something with the house? Is it Norman? Is Len back in the hospital?”

“No. Really, everything is fine. How's your benefit going?”

“Honestly, I can't wait for the damn thing to be over. I wish you were here.”

“Do you?”

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Her tone was clipped and cold. Something most certainly had her angry. “Of course I do. There's not a woman here who could hold a candle to you.” He loved the way she looked when she was all riled up, and he could tell from her tone that something had her that way. But, for the life of him, he didn't have a clue what that was.

“Is there something I'm missing here? Have I done or said something wrong? You've got to help me out here, Shelby.”

“I'm sorry,” she said and he could hear the anger leaving her voice. “I'm sure I'm jumping to conclusions here but I … ” her words were cut off by the voice behind him.

“Wyeth, here you are, darling.” Abby. He hadn't seen her enter the lobby. “Dinner is about to start and you don't want to be late. Surely your business call can wait.” Abby latched onto his arm as he heard a cold and icy voice come through the phone.