The Mirror and the Mask (35 page)

If anyone understood loneliness, she did. But she couldn't give up her life for his. She wasn't selfless enough to make that kind of trade. “I can't. It won't work.”

“It will. You're penniless. I'm not. We're both . . . like, adrift. We can be each other's moorings.”

She shook her head.

“If you don't have any money, where did you stay last night? The condo, right? You've still got the key. Keep it.”

“I picked up my things before I came over here. I left the key on the kitchen counter.”

He looked up at her. She could see the wheels turning inside his mind.

“Where did you sleep last night, Annie?”

“What's it matter?”

“You stayed with that woman. Oh, Jesus—” He leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Curt, don't do this.”

“You slept with her. I'm right, aren't I? Tell me.”

“It's none of your business.”

“You did. You came from her bed to this hospital room. You disgust me.”

She moved back to the foot of the bed. Finding the strength somewhere inside her, she said, “I want to thank you. You took me in when I didn't have a place to stay. You were kind to me. I'm sorry if I hurt you.”

“Get out,” he said, a savage look in his eyes.

“I left my cell phone number on the counter with your key. I
hope . . . I really hope you'll call me one day soon, that you'll let me know how you're doing. I can't be with you, but I wish you only the best.”

“Please,” he said, bursting into tears, “leave.”

 

 

 

I
can't believe it,” said Jane. “This all happened last night after we got home?”

“I told you she'd be home by Christmas,” said Cordelia. “I was just a couple of months off. Radley's sticking around for a few days to ease the transition. I thought maybe you and Annie would like to come over for dinner tonight.”

“It's fine with me. I'll ask her.”

“Did you two have an . . . interesting . . . evening?”

“Fascinating,” said Jane.

“You're not going to tell me a thing, are you?”

“Nope.”

“I'll wheedle the details out of you. Not to change the subject, but do you know what a sweet thing Radley did? Remember that picture book I made for Hattie? The one with all the important people in her life. Me. You. Her deceased but famous father. The cats. Mouse.”

“Bette Davis. Katharine Hepburn.”

“Yeah, that's the one. Well, it turns out Hattie had it with her
when she went to stay with them in that hotel, before they kidnapped her.”

“I think ‘kidnapped' is a bit strong.”

“I don't. Anyway, Radley and Hattie looked at it almost every night. He said he didn't want her to forget me—us. Everyone. They'd talk about the things she loved. Isn't that incredible?”

“Incredibly loving.”

“I'll give you all the details tonight. Bring the Christmas gift I made you get for Hattie. It's going to be one kick-ass rock-and-roll celebration.”

“I'll be there. And Cordelia, congratulations.”

Jane spent the next few minutes on the phone with Judah Johanson, her business partner. They'd just begun a belated discussion about the restaurant in Stillwater when she got a call interrupt. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw the name “Constance Dewing” pop up. Jane was about to blow it off when she remembered the conversation she'd had with Helen James, the woman who had worked with Annie's mother back in Michigan.

“Judah, I'm getting another call. I have to take it. I'll call you back.” Clicking over, she said, “Hello?”

“I'm calling for Jane Lawless.”

“This is Jane.”

“My name's Connie Dewing. You left a message for me on my voice mail. I wasn't planning to return your call, but then my curiosity got the better of me. I'm Mandy Dewing's sister.”

Jane dug out a notebook from her bottom desk drawer. “Yes, thanks so much.”

“Do you know Mandy personally?”

“No, we've never met. But I know her daughter, Annie.”

“Oh, sure. She must be in her late twenties now.”

“Thirty-two.”

“Really. My sister and I had a falling-out many years ago.”

“Must have been serious.”

“How is Mandy?”

Jane hadn't considered the possibility that this woman might not know about her sister's death. She hated to be the one to break the news. “Mandy died back in the midnineties.”

“Died? How?”

“A heart attack. I'm very sorry.”

“What happened to Annie?”

“She's been living in Colorado since she turned eighteen.”

“Is she married?”

“No. I can put you in touch with her—”

“I think it's better to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Jane didn't understand that kind of sentiment. “When was the last time to you talked to Mandy?”

“Oh, gee. Annie must have been five. Kenny had just been sent to prison.”

Jane grabbed a pen, wrote the word “prison” in bold letters in the notebook, and then circled it. Annie had told her the entire story last night.

“Mandy met Kenny when she was a senior in high school, fell madly in love.”

“In high school?”

“He was older, in his midtwenties if I recall correctly. They dated for a few months, and then he took off for greener pastures. Everyone in the family expressed the opinion that she was well rid of him. He was a wheeler-dealer type. Always looking to make a big score. And I didn't know it at the time, but my brother told me later that he was a drug addict. He used and sold drugs. In fact, that's why he went to prison.”

“Yes, I've heard all about that.”

“So you know about the pregnancy, too.”

“What pregnancy?”

“During the few months Mandy and Kenny dated, Mandy got pregnant. By the time she realized it, Kenny was gone. She gave birth to the child, against our mother's and father's wishes, and as soon as she put some money together, she left home, found a job working at a resort in Rehoboth Beach. That's where she ran into him again.”

Jane felt a sick feeling in her stomach. “You're saying Kenny was Annie's biological father?”

“That's correct. Not that Mandy told him. It was just another one of Mandy's little secrets. She loved Kenny, but she didn't trust him. I went to visit them a couple of times after they got married. You have to understand, all of my siblings went on to college except for Mandy. I received my master's in political science from Cornell. My younger sister has a doctorate from Rutgers. My brother made
Harvard Law Review
. It seemed ridiculous to us that Mandy was living in a crummy apartment with a lowlife like Kenny, but I suppose it was her choice. As I said, Annie had just turned five when Kenny was arrested for possession. Cocaine, I believe. And he was selling it, too. That's when we found out he'd been using an alias. His real name was John William Archer.”

This was a train wreck Jane had never seen coming. “Annie didn't know Kenny was her father?” asked Jane, just to make sure she understood. “And Kenny didn't know Annie was his child?”

“That's right.”

“So when Kenny, alias John Archer, got out of prison—”

“I couldn't tell you about that. My relationship with Mandy blew up when I found out Kenny had been dealing drugs and was headed to prison. The police were the ones who established his true identity. Mandy and I had a terrible fight about it. In fact, the entire family tried to talk some sense into her, but she knew best. She left Rehoboth Beach a few months after the trial. We never knew where she went.”

“Nobody ever tried to find her?”

“If she wanted to contact us, she knew where we lived.”

It sounded as if Connie was still angry with her sister. As if the entire family was.

“I washed my hands of her,” said Connie.

“And of Annie.”

“Well, I felt sorry for the little girl, for both of them really, but what could I do? Mandy chose the life she wanted to live. I'm sorry she's gone. Where was she living when she died?”

“You know,” said Jane, “I'm not really sure.”

“Do you know if she was happy?”

“Yes, I think she was very happy.”

“Well. I must say, I doubt that, but if that's what she told you.”

“Thanks for calling,” said Jane. “Have a nice day.”

You miserable bitch
.

 

Jane was standing at the window in her dining room when Annie pulled up outside a few minutes before noon. “Hey, boys,” she called. “Annie's back.”

Mouse and Dooley trotted out of the kitchen. Dooley gripped a sock in his teeth. Mouse nipped at it, trying to get him to play tug.

When she opened the door, she could see that Annie's eyes were glistening.

“How'd it go?”

“About as well as I expected it would.”

Jane folded her protectively in her arms, kissed her eyelids. “I'm sorry.”

“Maybe I should have stayed away, just left it at that.”

“It was a hard call.”

Dooley scratched at Annie's leg.

“Come on,” said Jane. “The coffee's still on. I'll make us some sandwiches for lunch.” She started for the kitchen, still thinking about what Connie Dewing had told her.

“Jane?”

“Hmm?” She turned her head. “Hey, take off your coat.”

“I can't. It's time.”

“I thought—” She turned all the way around. “You're leaving today? Now?”

“I have to. If I don't go while I still have the courage, I might never do it.”

“That would be fine with me.”

Annie's expression softened. “I'll never forget last night. You have a rare gift, you know that? You make people feel like they matter. You helped me get what I came for—even more than I came for. I've got my mother back. And Jack's getting what he deserves. I'm finally free of him. You don't know how great that feels. I don't need to hate him anymore. I don't even need to think about him.”

Connie Dewing's words still rang in Jane's ears. Mandy Archer had lied to Annie and to Jack. Jack was Annie's biological father. Neither one of them knew the truth. If Annie found out, after everything she'd been through, what would it do to her? The answer to that question was something Jane didn't want to know.

“What will you do when you get back to Colorado?” she asked, trying to hide the turmoil she felt inside.

“Go back to my job in Steamboat Springs if they'll have me. Live my life. Try to be happy.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“I hope so. There are these modern conveniences called phones and airplanes. I'd like you to be a part of my life . . . for the rest of my life. But the fact is, you can't leave Minnesota and I can't stay.”

It was a painful refrain Jane had heard before.

Annie called for Dooley to come. As he trotted out of the living room, her soft, warm hand slipped inside Jane's. “So I guess this is it.”

Jane crushed her in her arms, kissed her with every ounce of tenderness she possessed, then reluctantly let her go.

Lifting Dooley into her arms, Annie said, “Thanks. For everything.” She leaned in for one last kiss.

Jane held the door open and watched Annie walk out to her car. She struggled to compose herself. Fighting tears, she smiled, waved, called, “Be safe.”

In the end, perhaps it was the dream of winning the unwinnable heart. That was Annie. She might eventually settle, move in with someone, even get married, but Jane knew part of her heart would always remain separate.

As Annie drove away, Jane said the words she'd repeated to herself so many times in the last few days but never said out loud.

She whispered, “I could have loved you.”

Closing the door, she leaned against it. Her home was back to normal, a quiet, solitary place. The kind she liked best. But she and Annie shared something fundamental. Their hearts were also solitary, a mystery to others, and to themselves.