Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (27 page)

It had been one of the toughest days in her life. Jack and Lily’s affair wasn’t as hard on her as Peter’s death was. The rest of the day had felt like some sort of dream.

Marcus had arrived pretty fast, and the men took over everything. Popsy’s doctor came. Sandra didn’t know who’d called him, but it was a great idea. Then the house was full of people. Neighbors, business associates, and friends of Peter’s began pouring through the house.

For the next four days, the flow of people and gifts didn’t stop. It was an amazing reflection on how well-liked Peter was. Sandra moved into the house to be with Popsy, and for the last few months, she still spent nearly every night there. The girls had come and stayed all day, every day, the week after his death.

The first night Sandra watched Lily walk out with Jack had felt odd, but not painful. Compared to Peter’s death, Jack’s betrayal didn’t seem too bad. She’d made the conscious decision to lock that issue away. She didn’t love him anymore. She wouldn’t let herself. She and Jack were over. But Popsy and Peter? There should have been years left in that relationship. They weren’t done yet.

One of the most difficult times for Popsy was when the car was returned. Nobody had called to say it was coming. A delivery service arrived with it a few days later and they plonked it unceremoniously on the road outside her house. How lucky that Sandra had answered the door and not Popsy. It was she who signed the acceptance forms and got the plastic bag of Peter’s belongings. That’s when Popsy got her phone back. Up until then, they hadn’t known why Peter had run out of the house in such a hurry, but now they did. He’d promised Popsy that he would “send the boys,” but he must have gone to the gas station himself. Was that what pushed his heart over the edge?

When the police arrived, they were much gentler than she’d expected. It was a lady cop who sat down with Popsy. Sandra and the girls joined them. The policewoman more-or-less repeated what Jack had told them. All told, it was fortunate it hadn’t caused a major catastrophe on the busy road. Peter’s body had been taken by ambulance back to the Newton Wellesley hospital, but Sandra knew this time he wasn’t in the safe environs of the ICU. This time, unbelievably, Peter was in the morgue.

With his recent history in the hospital, the autopsy was fast and gave no great surprises. Peter had a massive heart attack. It was quick and chances were that he didn’t feel a thing. That was of some small consolation to Popsy.

The funeral was held the following week. It was family only, which meant it was very small, but that’s what Popsy had wanted. Too much publicity had hit the press about his death and the company going into Chapter 11 in the days before. She didn’t want to be the subject of pity or gossip and wanted the space to grieve in peace. The only time she came out of her almost permanent state of shock was to talk to Sandra about Jack.

“I need to talk to you about the funeral,” Popsy had said, sounding almost normal. “Sandra, do you mind if Jack comes?” she’d asked.

“Me? Popsy, that is so up to you. I’ll go along with whatever you think is best.”

It was the first time they’d actually looked into each other’s eyes since Peter’s death. It almost broke Sandra’s heart to see the pain there. Popsy nodded. “I have no fight left. I feel nothing for Jack, but I think Lily needs him, so if it’s all the same to you, I’m just going to let it slide. If Lily wants him, he can come. Okay?”

“Yes.”

Sandra had been happy to oblige. She felt the same way. Peter’s death seemed to dwarf all other issues.

Thus, at the funeral, there was Popsy being supported by Sandra, and Rosie had Marcus holding her up. Jack kept his arm around Lily, and Matilda carried little Natasha. It was unclear who was taking care of whom.

After a brief service, Peter was cremated. That had always been his wish. A short week after his jailbreak from the hospital, his fun ride in his wife’s Ferrari, and his reassurances to her that everything would be all right, Peter was nothing more than a handful of dust in a silver urn in Popsy’s arms.

Sandra wondered how a person moves on from something like that as she slowed her run down to a walk. How is it we dismiss so easily the fragility of life, the shortness of it? Things we think are set in stone can turn to dust—literally—in a moment. Poor Peter. Then again, she knew he would be so angry if he could see them now. Sandra looked up to heaven. “I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered. “I’ll work harder to get Popsy out of her sadness. I’ll get her through this.”

“Good-morning, sleepyhead.”

“I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” Popsy said as she woke up looking disoriented.

“That depends on what continent you’re on,” Sandra said and laughed. “Who cares what time it is in the States? Here it’s lunchtime, so up and at ‘em, girl. I have a light lunch menu for you to peruse, and then we’re meeting up with our driver to explore this place you call home.”

Popsy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Lunchtime? Ah, I remember now. We’re in Ireland.” She looked at Sandra and actually smiled. Sandra tried not to react, but she was pretty sure it was the first time she’d seen a real smile on Popsy’s face since Peter’s death. If that was all she got from this weekend, it was enough. She’d been right to bring her here. Ireland would make things a little better. But Sandra didn’t say any of this. In fact, she did her best to ignore it.

“Come on, now. No slouching. Time is moving on and we have a lot to squeeze in,” she said and left the room to let Popsy get dressed.

From Popsy’s perspective, things were better, too. It was the first time in ages she’d woken up without a groggy head. Then she remembered she hadn’t taken a sleeping tablet. That was amazing. She hadn’t planned on giving them up for ages, if ever. Maybe it was the time change, or perhaps the jetlag, or maybe it was really true: the Irish air had magical qualities. Whatever it was, one thing she knew was that she’d had a terrific sleep without the aid of drugs. That was the first good thing that had happened to her since—since her world ended.

“Thank you, Ireland,” she whispered to herself. Then she slipped out of bed and went to get dressed.

Chapter 23 

Lily’s Lies

Lily pretended to cough. “I know, and I’m sorry, but what can I say?” She coughed again. “I would be contagious.”

    Jack came in at the end of her telephone conversation and watched her with concern in his eyes.

“Still not going in? Is that a full week you’ve been out this time?” He sighed. “Lily, you can’t keep doing this.”

He was annoying her. She already knew she was playing with fire professionally, having skipped at least a week a month for the last few months. She was going to have to shape up soon and was also running out of excuses, but she wouldn’t think about that right now.

“What?” she asked, pretending not to understand. “I’m sick.”

They were in Lily’s apartment, which was now home to both of them, but for the last few weeks it had begun to feel very claustrophobic. Jack had found the smaller size difficult to get used to after the palatial penthouse he’d shared with Sandra for over a decade, and for Lily, it was different having him living with her, week in, week out, as opposed to being an occasional guest. He’d stolen half her closet space and half her bathroom space, but worst of all, he said he needed a study. Of course, she didn’t have one, so he was using her second bedroom. There were files and slips of paper, all very important according to him, on every surface. It was really getting on her nerves.

He came over and sat beside her on the sofa. “I know you’re still upset and this has been a horrendous couple of months for everybody.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “But I don’t think you have the flu. Is that what you told them?”

Lily pulled away like a little girl who was angry at a loving but chastising parent.

“I don’t feel well. I’m not a child, Jack. I should know if I’m too sick to go to work or not.” She was overly hostile, she knew, but he was too darn pedantic. Who did he think he was, her father? Lily felt her eyes tear up again. “You need to go,” she said.

Jack stood and raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. Just remember, it would do you good to get out of the house and breathe in some fresh air. Take a walk or something. I could take you out for dinner later, if you like.”

Lily didn’t respond. She wanted him gone. She needed space, and could think better alone. He said he understood, and within a few minutes he was out the door.

Lily wasn’t even sure where he went anymore. With her father’s death, C&J was no more, but Jack had explained there was now a huge legal battle. Jack was suing the banks, claiming that they had induced Peter’s heart attack. There was an enormous life insurance policy on both men. If either partner died, all mortgages would be paid off instantly, plus there would be a $4,000,000 cash payment for the surviving business partner. But the insurance company claimed that Cap & Jet had ceased trading before Peter’s death, and as such, the policy was void and they didn’t have to pay out.

At first she was confused, and then she realized the irony. If her father had died when he’d had his first attack, when the company was still trading, the insurance company would have had to pay out millions. But the company had died just a few days before Peter, and that meant the insurance guys were off-the-hook and Jack was stuck with all the bills. How tough was that?

Lily fixed herself another cup of tea. That was all she drank these days. It started the day her father died. She made tea as soon as she was able to move, and she’d been making it ever since. It was good to have something to do, and it was reassuring to hold the warm mug. She didn’t always drink it, but making it helped keep her sane. She was having serious difficulty keeping it together these days. The guilt was enormous. Her father’s first heart attack was as a direct result of hearing about her and Jack, and she figured that his second was when he was going to meet Jack for lunch. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist, or a cardiologist for that matter, to see the pattern. Peter could handle the rough and tumble of the business world, but when somebody threatened his family, that was too much for him.

Why couldn’t her dad have just accepted the situation? He loved Jack like a brother. Why not let her love him, too? But, no. He’d been furious with Jack, and her, too. That’s why his stress levels were so high. His death was her fault. Hers and Jack’s. How could she ever go back to a normal life knowing that? Shouldn’t she be in prison? She’d practically murdered her father, and for what? Jack? Was that a fair swap? Her mother had to lose the love of her life so she could have hers?

But it wasn’t a straight swap. Rosie had lost her dad, too. Natasha had lost her grandfather. The price had been very high for Lily to get Jack. If she’d known that claiming him would have meant losing her father, Lily was pretty sure she would have backed away. That was too much pain for too many people. But she couldn’t do that now, because the damage was done. There was no going back.

She remembered Jack calling on that awful Wednesday. Halloween. The day her father died. Lily had already been in a pretty grim mood, she remembered. Emily had been so kind. At first she’d been thrilled about the lunch. Her dad had wanted to talk to Jack. Wasn’t that progress? Jack had sounded uptight on the phone—the big wuss. Her dad was a good guy, and chances were he was meeting to make peace. Maybe the heart attack at her mom’s birthday lunch had brought him to his senses. That’s what she thought back then. It had even cheered her up, although it appeared Jack hadn’t felt the same way. A few hours later he’d called back. Lily had been giddy with anticipation.

“Well, are you best buddies again? Has he forgiven you for stealing away his little girl?” Lily asked.

“Honey, stop. There’s been an accident. It’s your father.”

“Oh, no. Is he okay?”

“It doesn’t look good.”

Now she knew he’d been stalling. He already knew her dad was dead, but he didn’t want to tell her that over the phone. It would have been too harsh. He was right about that.

“Meet me outside your mom’s house as soon as you can,” he’d instructed her.

Lily, for once, didn’t argue. “Sure, I’m on my way. Are you taking him home? It wasn’t another heart attack, was it?”

“He crashed your mom’s car just outside the Capital Grille, but the crash wasn’t bad. Just meet me at your folk’s home as soon as you can but, honey,” he said, his tone softening, “drive carefully.”

She flew out of the office and told Caryn, her assistant, to hold her calls and cancel her meetings because her father had been in a car accident. Even when Lily got to Cliff Road she didn’t think anything was wrong. Jack’s face was unreadable. She parked her car next to his and went to hug him.

“Lily,” he whispered, his voice was hoarse with emotion.

That’s when she got her first inkling.

“Where’s Dad? Where’s Mom? Does she know yet?”

“Lily, I’m afraid he had another heart attack.”

She knew then—in that very instant. It was the solemn look on Jack’s face, the sorrow in his eyes, that told her. He wasn’t talking urgently as if he had to rush her to a hospital bedside. There was finality in his stance. His body was saying it was already too late.

This she’d analyzed in the weeks after. Back then, she just collapsed into his arms.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” she’d asked.

“He is, my love. He’s in heaven now.” He hugged her for what felt like only a nanosecond when her mother’s front door opened. It was Sandra. Back then it didn’t even occur to her that it was the first time she’d seen Jack’s wife since the news of their affair broke.

Even with the huge emergency that was her father’s death, she realized Sandra’s reaction had been the ultimate in class and emotional maturity.

She didn’t scream or try to hit Lily. Instead, she took her by the hand and brought her into the house. When Lily saw her mother’s reaction, that’s when she realized her father was gone.

It still felt surreal. She kept thinking he was going to walk into the room and laugh at all of them.