Too Little, Too Late (24 page)

Breaking the spell, Kate tried to keep her voice light. “Since I’m all but totally blind, I hope you intend on catching me before I take a tumble.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going far,” he replied.

Kate heard the front door open and then felt his steady hand on her elbow, guiding her inside the house. She’d barely taken a few steps when he told her to stop.

“For this I had to be blindfolded?” she muttered, yanking off his tie. “I could’ve just closed my—” Kate was speechless, her anger evaporating as she stared at the painting that almost entirely covered the two-storey foyer.

“Well,” asked Paul, impatient as an eager adolescent, “what do you think?”

“I think it’s absolutely perfect,” she replied. And it was. The huge canvas was an abstract of complementary primary colors which blended together to infuse the entire foyer with a vibrancy that seemed to bounce off the plastered walls. Quite simply, the painting absolutely
worked
in this particular space.

Kate looked at Paul in confusion. “Is this the painting we were going to look at in San Francisco?”

“Nope.” He was watching her closely, a conceitedly smug look on his face.

“Then where did you find it?”

“You’re not going to believe me when I tell you,” he warned her.

“Try me.”

“In the Reinhart Studios backlot. Soundstage 6 to be exact.”

She stared at him. “It’s from a
film set
?”

“Yup.” He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “And do you know who the artists were?”

Eve shook her head. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Try a sound technician’s five-year-old daughter and her kindergarten class.”

“You’re kidding me!” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I think of what a canvas this size would have cost you at that gallery in San Francisco…and where you found this—” The absurdity of the situation was more than Kate could take in her present frame of mind and she started to laugh.

“—and don’t forget the sheer mastery of the artists who painted the canvas!” he reminded her, laughing right along with her. Sobering for an instant, he looked around the foyer in appreciation. “I’m glad the foyer’s been redone. Opening up the entrance has made a huge difference.”

“It almost seems a shame to be selling it.”

“Much as I love this place, I live by myself and don’t need all this square footage.” He shrugged pragmatically. “But who knows? If I had someone to share it with, the circumstances might be different.”

When Kate didn’t respond, he turned her to face him. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

“It’s not you.”

“Then what?” he persisted. “If you’re worried about the little Picassos responsible for this masterpiece, don’t worry. I made sure they got a kick start to their college tuition fund.”

Kate managed a small smile. “That’s not it either.”

“Come on. Follow me.” Paul led her into the formal living room where he sat her on the sofa before taking a seat beside her. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Kate frowned, not sure how to explain.

“Is it about your granddaughter?” he asked astutely.

“That’s part of it.” She looked away. “It’s actually more about how this whole mess with my granddaughter has affected all of our lives.” She gave him a look of embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“I know this whole thing’s been rough on you, but it’ll blow over in a little while.”

“Probably,” she acknowledged sadly. “The only problem is that a woman’s dead and all Karen can think about is being the next tabloid “it” girl!”

“Maybe that’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is what?”

“Prison. Or her lying on a slab in the morgue.”

“Don’t I know it!” The enormity of what Paul had just said made Kate cover her face with her hands. “I just wish we could make her see that.”

“Look, Kate,” he told her firmly. “Our culture is obsessed by celebrity, irresistible to someone as young as Karen.” He went over to the bar at the far side of the room and fixed them both a drink. “This storm will pass, believe me. When the next big scandal comes along and the sharks go on to better stuff, she’ll go back to being the same kid you’ve always loved.”

“That’s what I keep telling Eve.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Then that makes two of us who are good judges of character.”

She set her glass down. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, I’ve decided to take a hiatus until this storm dies down.”

“What do you mean?” He stared at her.

Kate rushed on. “I know I agreed to do the publicity junket to promote the DVD collection for the Paisleys’ music but I’d don’t think I can do it right now. I don’t want to leave Eve to deal with this alone.”

“Look, I appreciate that you’re having problems—”

“—that’s a bit of an understatement!”

“The point is,” he continued evenly, “you can’t let the tabloids win.”

“Who said anything about them winning? I simply want to be here to lend my support to my daughter and granddaughter.”

“Much as I want to, I can’t postpone the publicity junket.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I can’t – at least not without infuriating a whole bunch of people,” he told her firmly. “Everything’s already arranged. You’re set to appear on
Larry King
next month, followed by
The View
,
Ellen
, everybody. Things will have calmed down by then, you’ll see.”

“Sure.” She stared at him coldly. “Nothing like a little scandal to boost CD revenues.”

Everything about Paul’s body language became formal and distant as he got up and crossed the room. “Good to see you think so highly of me.”

Kate realized it was pointless to argue with him any further. Without another word, she slowly got up and left the house.

He hadn’t spoken to, or laid eyes on his brother in over twenty years and was surprised at how fat he’d gotten. He took little comfort in the fact that his brother was ill-dressed for the beach as he made his way over to him. He had no interest in pleasantries and got straight to the point.

“What do you want?” Leo asked coldly.

“I want to know why you did it.” It was a statement, devoid of all emotion.

“Did what?”

“I know you killed Maria,” his brother told him rudely, “but what I want to know is why. Why now?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“We agreed to let her go,” his brother reminded him.

“
I
agreed to nothing,” Leo interjected heatedly. “It was you and Mother who cut her loose.”

“After what happened, you could hardly blame us for not including you in the decision-making process.”

“No, of course not,” he muttered bitterly.

“I suppose you don’t want me telling Mother.”

Leo shrugged. “You can tell her whatever the hell you want. I don’t give a damn, one way or the other.”

“It’s better she doesn’t know,” his brother continued in a business-like tone. “The news would probably kill her.” When he didn’t reply, his brother continued. “I hope you were smarter this time around and covered your tracks. The last thing we need are skeletons falling out of the family closet.”

“We have so many of them. Which particular skeletons are you referring to?” Leo asked bitterly. “The one where you stole my wife away from me, or the one where you convinced her to get rid of my baby?”

“She came to
me
, not the other way around.”

“But you took advantage of her.”

“Give me a break. You’re the one who screwed her over for that retard!” his brother bit back.

“Don’t call Maria that!” In a moment of blinding fury, he lunged at Irving, gouging his fingers into his brother’s neck.

“You crazy son of a bitch!” His brother’s eyes bulged as his air supply was cut off. “Let me go!”

“I’ve got news for you, you pompous asshole! Just because we didn’t come from the same seed doesn’t make you any less guilty than I am.” He felt a gut-wrenching pain as his brother’s knee connected with his groin. He released his hold, doubling over with pain.

“I meant what I said.” Irving wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Make sure there are no loose ends.” With that, he straightened his clothes and left without a backward glance.

That first visit with Maria had led to many more until Leo’s visits became a weekly ritual. She was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. He needed to have his weekly fix of her in order to
function. He bought the staff’s silence so his mother wouldn’t find out about his visits. He didn’t want his wife to know either. Neither one of them would have understood. He wasn’t all that sure he understood himself.
 

There was such a sweetness to Maria’s demeanor, such an innocence, that was accentuated by the halo of blonde hair that framed her lovely face. He found himself gazing into the eyes of the girl/woman she was, eyes which were supposed to be the mirror to her soul - except that her soul was empty, unsullied and devoid of any emotion except for the basest of acceptance. Strangely
enough, when he was around Maria, he felt like he was reliving his formative years without being mired by the cynicism.
 

Looking back, he remembered with clarity how it began. They had been in her room and he was watching as she played with her dolls. She didn’t play with her dolls like other children did. She would hurtle them across the room and when they hit the wall, she would chortle happily. He would go and pick up the dolls and bring them back to her and then the game would start all over again.
 

This went on for about half an hour until she noticed that one of her doll’s blouses had become ripped. Suddenly, there was an urgency for Maria to remove the blouse from the doll and she became increasingly frustrated until he finally took it off for her. Rather than taking the doll, Maria began tugging at the collar of her own shirt, trying to take it off as well.
 

“Off!” she cried, struggling with the collar.
 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he told her, trying to fix her collar.
 

“No! Maria wants off!” she insisted, managing to bruise her neck as she tore at her collar.
 

“All right, all right,” he soothed, undoing the buttons of her shirt and taking it off for her.
 

Her hands immediately clawed at her bra, eager to have it taken off as well.
 

He swallowed uncomfortably at the sight of her fully-formed breasts, hidden behind the utilitarian bra she was wearing. When he tried to stop her from taking it off, she started hollering at the top of her lungs.
 

“Off!” Grabbing the front of her bra, she yanked at it, yelping as the elastic refused to give way, snapping at her skin.
 

He knew that if he allowed her to lose control, a nurse would come and sedate her. It had happened once before when he had been here and he hated it when they did that. The sedative would leave her confused as well as despondent and crying when it wore off.
 

“Okay, calm down,” he told her firmly. “Turn around and I’ll take it off.”
 

Obediently she turned, waiting long enough for him to unsnap the bra before flinging it aside. Getting up, she picked up her doll and threw it at the wall. She chortled happily, content to play once again.
 

He sat and watched her, a myriad of emotions running through his head. The sight of her bare breasts aroused him uncontrollably. He felt ashamed and yet, he couldn’t help himself. There was something so wanton in her immodesty. She picked up the doll, the head having fallen off, and she brought it over to him so he could screw it back on. As he forced his hands to perform the simple motor skill of putting the doll’s head back on, a shock went through his body as her bare breast rubbed against his arm in her effort to help him.
 

Unable to stop himself, he unzipped her pants as if in slow motion and pulled them down to her ankles. She watched him in silence. He swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back. Tugging at the elastic of her underwear, he pulled that down as well. Still she watched him. With a trembling finger, he gently touched her soft pubic hair. This made her jump.
 

“Sshh!” he told her quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” This seemed to calm her as he led her towards the bed.
 

And so it began. He had become his father’s son.
 

Kate Stanton arrived at the Santa Monica Pier and headed over to the Ferris wheel. Karen was already there, her eyes hidden behind big dark shades and her hair obscured by one of her father’s old baseball caps. Karen kept scanning the crowd anxiously and looked relieved when she saw her grandmother.

“Grams! It’s about time you got here.”

Kate gave her granddaughter a bear hug. “How’ve you been holding up?”

“Surviving, despite being under house arrest.” Karen linked arms with her grandmother.

Kate eyed Karen shrewdly. “That’s better than county lockup, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t ask me to come here so you could bust my ass like Mom, did you?”

“You know me better than that. But I did want to talk to you about a few things.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” She pointed to the giant wheel. “Want to take a go at the Ferris wheel?”

“You’re on.”

“Remember how it used to be your favorite ride?”

Karen grinned. “It still is.”

Kate noted with satisfaction the huge grin on her granddaughter’s face as they slowly soared towards the sky in one seamless motion. The sun glinted off the Pacific Ocean, momentarily blinding her. She tried to mask her irritation when she saw a photographer get on and start snapping pictures of them.

“So what did you want to talk to me about, Grams?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your mother.” Kate tried keeping her eyes on her granddaughter rather than looking down.

Karen’s good mood quickly evaporated. “Can’t we talk about something else?”