Remember Me (26 page)

At the end of the day, when he arrived home to wait for Adam Nichols to keep their appointment, he was still wrestling with the question of whether or not he would ever be able to trust Tina again.

He wouldn't say anything to Covey's lawyer. For the present he would stick up for Tina and give her the engagement ring to wear at the inquest. From the way that detective talked, the police wouldn't mind involving Tina in a murder plot. She didn't seem to understand how serious all this had become.

No, he would stand by her for now, but if this bad feeling kept growing, he knew that as crazy as he was about Tina, he couldn't marry her. A man had to have his dignity.

Brooding, he thought about all the nice gifts he had given her this summer, like his mother's gold watch and pearls and pin. She kept them in that hollowed-out book that was really a jewelry box, on a shelf in her living room.

When the inquest was over, if he decided to call it quits with Tina, he would collect the engagement ring and them too.

I
t was a busy afternoon at the agency. Elaine received two new listings from walk-ins and went out to inspect the properties. One of them she photographed immediately, a handsome replica of a square-rigger on Ryders Pond. “This should go fast,” she assured the owner.

The other place had always been a rental and needed sprucing up. Tactfully she suggested that if the lawn were mowed and the shrubs trimmed, the overall effect could be enhanced. The house also needed a good cleaning. Reluctantly she offered to send Carrie Bell over—she had her drawbacks, but no one did a better job.

She called Marge on the car phone. “I'll go directly home. John and Amy are coming for dinner, and I want to develop the new pictures before I have to start cooking.”

“You're getting very domestic,” Marge kidded her.

“I might as well.”

When she got home, Elaine made one more call, this time to Scott Covey. “Why not join us for dinner?”

“If you let me bring it. I just came in from the boat with a bucket of lobsters.”

“I knew there was a reason I was calling you. Did you get the picture?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You didn't even thank me,” she teased. “But you know why I sent it.”

“As a reminder, I know.”

“See you later, Scott,”

C
arrie Bell was upstairs vacuuming when Jan dropped Menley off. Menley went up to her. “Amy has the baby out in the carriage, Mrs. Nichols,” she explained. “Good as gold that baby is, let me tell you.”

“She wasn't always that good.” Menley smiled. She looked around. “Everything shines. Thanks, Carrie.”

“Well, I like to leave things just right. I'm just about finished now. Do you want me to come next week?”

“I certainly do.” Menley opened her pocket book, took out her wallet and with a silent prayer began to steer the conversation where she wanted it to go. “Carrie, strictly between us, what frightened you the last time you were here?”

Carrie looked alarmed. “Mrs. Nichols, I know it's just my imagination, and like Miss Atkins says, I'm so heavy footed I probably stepped on a loose floorboard and that got the cradle rocking.”

“Maybe. But you also thought you heard someone moving around upstairs. At least that's what Amy said.”

Carrie leaned forward, and her voice lowered. “Mrs. Nichols, you promise you won't tell Miss Atkins a word about this?”

“I promise.”

“Mrs. Nichols, I did hear something that day, and today I tried pounding my feet when I went into the nursery, and that cradle didn't budge.”

“You didn't notice anything unusual today, then?”

“No. Nothing strange. But I'm a bit worried about Amy.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Oh, nothing happened. I mean, just before Hannah woke up from her nap a little while ago, Amy was reading in the little parlor with the door closed. I thought I heard her crying. I didn't want to seem nosy so I didn't go in to her. I know she's worried about her father marrying Miss Atkins. Then later I asked her if anything was troubling her, and she denied it. You know how kids are. Sometimes they'll bare their souls. Other times they want you to MYOB.”

“MYOB?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Of course.” Menley handed Carrie the folded bills. “Thanks very much.”

“Thank you. You're a nice lady. And I tell you, I have a three-year-old, and I can understand how awful it must have been for you to lose that beautiful little boy. I got tears in my eyes when I saw that video of him last year.”

“You saw a video of Bobby?”

“Mr. Nichols had it up here when he rented the cottage. Like I was telling Amy, he had the saddest expression watching it. It showed him in the pool with Bobby, and he lifted him out, and you called him, and he ran to you.”

Menley swallowed over the lump in her throat. “That tape was made just two weeks before the accident,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I never could bear to watch it. It was such a happy day.”

I want to see it now, she thought. I'm ready to see it.

Carrie put the money in her purse. “Miss Atkins was with Mr. Nichols that day, and he was telling her all about Bobby and how guilty he felt because he should have been with the two of you the day of the accident but played golf instead.”

I
t had been a good day's work, Adam thought as he drove onto the private road that led to Remember House. Unfortunately it wasn't over. It was nearly three o'clock now and at five he'd leave to meet Fred Hendin.

But at least he'd be home for a couple of hours, and
it was a perfect beach day. That is, if Menley was willing to go to the beach with him.

Amy's car was in the driveway. He had mixed feelings of relief and irritation. She was a nice, responsible kid, but it would be great to be alone with his family and not have someone always underfoot.

If I react this way, how does Menley feel, having someone around all the time? he wondered. Sick at heart, he realized that they were rapidly going back to the way it had been before the pregnancy with Hannah. Remote from each other. Both of them on edge.

There was no one in the house. Was Menley back yet, and if so, were they on the beach? He walked to the edge of the bluff and looked down.

Menley was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, Hannah propped against her. The perfect picture, Adam thought. Menley's hair was swirling behind her. Her slender body was tanned and lovely. She and Amy seemed to be deep in conversation.

Amy was lying on the sand facing Menley, leaning on her elbows, chin resting in her palms. It's got to be tough for her, he thought. Going away to college is always scary, and according to Elaine, she's still having a problem about her father remarrying. But Elaine had also said, “She doesn't know how lucky she is that John can afford to send her to Chapel Hill.”

Elaine hadn't gone to college. At the end of the summer twenty-one years ago, when the rest of the crowd was heading for elite schools, her mother had just lost another job, so Elaine had gotten work as a typist in a real estate agency. Obviously she had done very well for herself, Adam reflected. Now she owned the agency.

At that moment Menley looked up. Adam scrambled down the steep path. When he reached them he had the feeling that he was an intruder. “Hi,” he said, lamely.

Menley did not answer.

Amy sprang up. “Hi, Mr. Nichols. Are you home for good?”

“Yes, Adam, are you home for good?” Menley asked. “If you are, I know Amy would like to have a few hours to herself.”

He decided to ignore her impersonal tone. “Go ahead, Amy. Thanks.” He squatted down on the blanket and waited while Amy said good-bye to Hannah and Menley.

When she was out of earshot, he said, “I'll give her a chance to change, then I'll go up and get my bathing suit on.”

“We'll come up with you. We've had enough of the beach.”

“Damn it, Menley, knock it off.”

“Knock what off?”

“Men, don't let this happen to us,” he pleaded.

Hannah looked up at him uncertainly.

“It's all right, sweetheart,” he said, “I'm just trying to make your mommy stop being mad at me.”

“Adam, we can't reduce this to a tiff. I spoke to Dr. Kaufman. She's going to call us back at four-thirty. I am going to absolutely refuse to be hospitalized. I also have a call in to my mother in Ireland. I'm going to ask her to cut short her trip. If there is some way that you and Dr. Kaufman can sign me into a hospital against my will, then my mother, who is a registered nurse, will mind my baby, not your girlfriend 'Laine.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Adam, when you came up here last year, how much did you see of Elaine?”

“She's an old friend. Of course I saw her. And it meant nothing.”

“As you said last night, you're not the kind to kiss and tell. But what was she doing watching vidoes of my little boy with you?”

“My God, Men, she happened to stop in when I was playing the tape. I wasn't just looking at Bobby in that video. I was looking at you.”

“With your girlfriend.”

“No, with an old buddy.”

“Who has told her future stepdaughter that after you deposit me in a psychiatric hospital in New York, you'll be here with Hannah.”

Adam stood up. “I'm going to change and go for a swim.”

“Surely you're not planning to leave Hannah alone with me?”

He did not answer but turned and walked away.

Menley watched Adam climb the path. He was leaning forward, his hands in his pockets. She thought of what Carrie Bell had overheard him tell Elaine, that he felt guilty he hadn't been with her the day of the accident.

Adam had told her that right after Bobby died, and she had raged at him. “Don't try to make me feel better. You had a long-standing golf date. I didn't want you to change your plans for a last-minute invitation.”

He'd never mentioned it to her again.

When Adam returned ten minutes later, she said, “Adam, I know myself. I am going to tell Dr. Kaufman that I am coming to grips with these anxiety attacks. I am also going to tell her that if you cannot and will not accept that fact, then our marriage is not going to last. The background of this house is of a husband who did not trust his wife. Don't perpetuate that mistake.”

O
n the drive home, Amy puzzled over whether or not to warn her father that Carrie Bell might tell him that she had been crying. Mrs. Nichols had asked her about it. “I wasn't crying,” she'd protested. “Honestly. Carrie's hearing things.”

She thought that Mrs. Nichols believed her, but her father would probably believe Carrie. Her father was always worried about her these days. If only he'd stop telling her how wonderful it was going to be to have a new mother.

I'll be eighteen next month, Amy thought. I wish Dad would stop trying to sell Elaine to me. I'm glad he is getting married again, but I wish it weren't to her.

Tonight she had wanted to go out with the crowd to Hyannis. But Elaine had decided she was going to fix a home-cooked meal, so her father had half ordered, half begged Amy to go with him.

“Don't hurt Elaine's feelings,” he had urged.

I can't wait to get to college, Amy thought as she drove through the Main Street traffic into the rotary. Then she sighed. Oh, Mom, why did you have to go and die on us?

Maybe that was the reason she felt so close to Mrs.
Nichols. Just the way she missed Mom, she knew Mrs. Nichols missed her little boy. But now Mrs. Nichols has Hannah.

And I have Elaine, she thought bitterly as she turned into her driveway.

*   *   *

But later she was glad her father had made her accompany him to Elaine's house. Scott Covey was there, and she helped him steam the lobsters he had brought. He was so nice, and even though he was having so many problems, he sure didn't take them out on anyone. He talked about Chapel Hill.

“One of the plays I toured in ran at the college for a couple of weeks,” he told her. “Great town. You'll have a lot of fun.”

During dinner, Amy noticed that they avoided any talk about the inquest. Elaine did ask if Carrie Bell had heard any more footsteps when she was cleaning today.

Amy seized the chance to get in something about the crying. “No, but in case she tells you she heard me crying, she was wrong.”

“She heard crying?” Elaine asked. “Was it Menley?”

“Mrs. Nichols was out for a long time with Mrs. Paley, and when she came in she was fine.” Amy did not want to talk about Mrs. Nichols with Elaine. She knew that Elaine thought Mrs. Nichols was on the verge of another breakdown. If I'd only brought my own car instead of going with Dad, she thought. I don't want to sit around here all night.

When Scott Covey started to talk about leaving, she saw her chance to get away. “Scott, would you mind dropping me off?” she asked, then tried to sound tired when she turned to her father. “Dad, I really have had a long day and I'd like to get home. Unless you want me to help with the dishes, Elaine.”

“No, go right ahead. Taking care of a baby all day is work.”

Now that she'd claimed to be tired, Amy realized there was nothing to do for the rest of the evening. She couldn't announce she was meeting her friends. There was nothing good on television, and she didn't want to ask Scott to drive her to rent a video. But wait a minute, she thought. Elaine has a terrific collection of old films. She lends them to Dad all the time.

“Elaine,” she asked, “could I borrow one of your videos?”

“Any at all,” Elaine said. “Take a couple of them. Just be sure to bring them back.”