Woman in Black (16 page)

“Too bad it's only on loan.”

He turned away from the window to find Lila gazing sightlessly ahead, wearing a preoccupied look. “When are your friends due back from Europe?” he asked, careful to strike a conversational tone. The last time they'd spoken, she hadn't had anything else lined up, and if that was still the case, he didn't want to spoil the moment by making a big deal of it.

“The end of the week,” she told him. Just four days away.

“So where to next?”

She grew suddenly fidgety, bending to straighten the already neat stack of magazines on the glass coffee table. “I'll tell you all about it over breakfast,” she replied evasively.

She showed him to the guest room, where he dumped his belongings on the bed and immediately headed for the shower. Standing under the showerhead with his eyes closed and the hot water sluicing over him, he felt the knots in his shoulders from the long hours of being crammed into his seat in cabin class start to ease and the black clouds on his internal horizon recede.

By the time he emerged from the guest room, freshly showered and shaved and wearing his only change of clothing, jeans and a button-down shirt over a long-sleeved jersey, Lila was in the kitchen setting out food: toasted bagels and sliced Nova Scotia salmon, containers of scallion cream cheese and whitefish salad. He noted, from the discarded wrappers, that it was from Zabar's, and was touched that she'd gone to the effort of trucking over to the West Side to buy his favorite New York fare.

Helping her carry the food to the table, he had a chance to observe his sister more closely as she moved about, setting out plates and utensils, pouring coffee. She seemed more than just preoccupied; there was a grim look of resolve about her, evident in the tightness around her eyes and mouth and in the firmness with which she placed each thing on the table, as if she expected it to sprout wings and fly off otherwise. The only improvement in her appearance, other than the gain of a few much-needed pounds, was her new, casual look. In the old days, Lila's idea of casual had been designer jeans paired with a tailored blouse or cashmere sweater, and a piece of tasteful but expensive jewelry to complete the outfit. It was refreshing to see her in jeans and sneakers, wearing no makeup, her hair tousled, and her only jewelry the small silver pendant on a chain around her neck. To Vaughn, it was a positive sign that she was letting go of the past, even if Lila might not see it that way.

“How's Neal?” he asked as they sat down to eat.

“Good.” After a moment she went on to elaborate, with a sigh, “Good at pretending, anyway. He always
says
he's fine.”

“He still seeing that therapist I hooked you up with?” Vaughn had gotten the name of someone who'd come highly recommended by a producer friend of his.

“He was until a few weeks ago.”

“Oh?” Vaughn maintained a low-key tone. He didn't want Lila to know how concerned he was. The few times he'd spoken with Neal over the phone, he'd sensed that his nephew was seriously troubled.

“It wasn't Neal's fault,” she explained. “I couldn't afford Dr. Goldman's fees anymore.”

Vaughn gave her a stern look. “Lila …”

She threw up her hands. “I know what you're going to say, and yes, for my son's sake, I would gladly swallow my pride and let you foot the bill. But when I suggested as much to Neal, he told me he'd been planning to quit going anyway. He said he was sick and tired of having, quote unquote, ‘some shrink digging around inside his head with a dental drill.'”

Vaughn winced. “Ouch.”

“I know. I told him I'd speak to you about it, but he wouldn't budge.”

“Maybe I should talk to him myself.”

Lila nodded thoughtfully, blowing on her coffee before taking a careful sip. “It might help, but you should probably do it in person, and he won't be home until semester break.” She gave Vaughn a cautiously hopeful look. “Will you be around then?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, not yet ready to share his news. Instead, he asked, “What about
you?
Are you planning on staying in New York?”

She hesitated before answering, without much enthusiasm, “Actually, that's what I was going to tell you. I found a job.”

He broke into a grin. “Hey, that's great news! Talk about burying the headline.”

Lila didn't seem too excited about it, though. “It's not exactly what I was hoping for.”

“How bad could it be?” Even an entry-level position was better than being unemployed.

“Oh, it's not without its perks,” she replied in a faintly sardonic tone. “It includes housing, for one thing, so at least I won't have to worry about finding a place to live.”

“What kind of job these days includes housing? Don't tell me you're running away to join the circus?” he teased.

“Not quite.”

“What, then?”

“Abby offered me a job.” Lila took a deep breath before adding portentously, “As her housekeeper.”

Vaughn sat back, stunned. “Wow. That's … well, I don't know what to say.” It certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear.

“Yeah, I know. You're probably wondering the same thing I am. Is she doing this to humiliate me, or is it just that she's dying to have me around?” Lila gave a dry laugh. “Who knows? Maybe a little of both. All I know is that I'm in no position to turn it down. It's not like I have an alternative.”

“What about Neal? Is he going to be living with you?”

Lila sat up straight, and he saw her eyes spark with some of their old fire. “He goes where I go. That was part of the deal.”

Vaughn cast about for something positive to say. “Well, at least you won't be homeless.”

“No, but I'll be stuck out in the middle of nowhere, where I won't know a soul except Abby. Did I forget to mention it's an hour's drive from here?” She sighed, her gaze drifting to the window. “Not that there's anything left for me here, just a lot of memories.”

He reached across the table to put a hand over hers. “Don't stress about it too much. It's just temporary, until you find something better.”

Lila nodded, her jaw clenched as she fought back tears. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I didn't have to feel such a loser in the meantime.”

“You're not a loser. You're a fighter. Look at you; after all you've been through, you're still on your feet, still swinging.”

That managed to coax a small smile out of her. “Funny how things work out, isn't it? When Gordon and I got married, I was planning on going back to school and earning my master's degree.”

“You never told me that.”

“No? It must not have been a huge priority, then.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “Life. I got pregnant; then after Neal came along, it was one thing after another. Now it seems I'm not qualified to do anything except mop floors for a living, and I'm not even sure how good I'll be at that.”

“I wasn't good for much either after I got out of the Peace Corps,” he reminded her.

“You were twenty. I'm over forty. Believe me, there's a difference. Besides, you weren't a pariah.”

“That's just the media stirring things up. It'll die down soon, if it hasn't already.”

“Maybe. But I'll still be persona non grata.” Gordon might have been the one convicted, she told him, but in the court of public opinion, she was guilty, too, if only by association. “No one wants to hire the widow of the man responsible for depriving a bunch of old people of their life's savings. Especially not if she drives around in a BMW and owns more pairs of shoes than Imelda Marcos.”

“You do?”

She gave him a withering look. “Of course not. I'm just quoting the tabloids.”

“You're not responsible for what Gordon did,” he reminded her.

“Not directly, but I certainly enjoyed the benefits of all those ill-gotten gains. That must make me guilty of something—if nothing else, of keeping my head buried in the sand. It's not the first time, either. It was the same when Mother fired Rosie. I took the coward's way then, too. So maybe I'm only getting what I deserve. What goes around comes around, right?”

“That's a pretty fatalistic view, don't you think?”

“What can I say? I'm feeling pretty fatalistic these days.” Lila fell silent, as if contemplating her fate. Then, with a sigh, she reached for the pot of coffee on the table. “How about a refill?”

“No, thanks, I'm good.”

She eyed the plate he'd pushed aside. “That's all you're eating?”

“I stopped for a bite on my way over,” he confessed.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“After you'd gone to all this trouble?”

“It was no trouble. How often do I get to see you? And who knows when you'll be back? Tomorrow or the next day you'll be off again to some far-flung place where I can't even reach you by phone … and where I can't—” Abruptly, she burst into tears.

He jumped to his feet and came around to where she sat, pulling her into his arms. “Who said I was going anywhere?” he soothed.

“You always leave. That's what you do,” she muttered tearfully into his collar. She drew back to eye him accusingly, a look that quickly dissolved into one of resignation. “Not that I blame you. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near me, either, if I were you. Look at me—I'm a mess.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he repeated.

But she wasn't going to be consoled so easily. “Not today, maybe. But tomorrow or the next day.”

Vaughn realized that he could no longer put off telling her why he was here, that this wasn't just another pit stop on his way to another remote locale. “I'm here for a while. A few months at the very least.”

“You mean
here?
In New York?”

He nodded. “Gillian said I could crash at her place. You remember Gillian?”

“The artist? Sure. Didn't you two used to date?”

“A million years ago. We're just friends now.”

Lila was staring at him, wearing a puzzled frown. “I still don't get it. You never stick around more than a few weeks at a time. Is there something you're not telling me?”

For a long moment, he remained silent. When he finally answered, he found himself directing his words at the wall behind her. He couldn't bear to look his sister in the eye, to see the pain he knew he was causing.

“I'm sick, Lila. I have cancer. Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, to be precise. The doctor in Johannesburg did a biopsy, to be sure. That's why I came back, to get treated here in New York.”

He brought his gaze back to Lila, who was staring at him in disbelief. “No.” She violently shook her head. “That's impossible. You? You're the healthiest person I know. They must have gotten your results mixed up with somebody else's.”

He took hold of her hand and squeezed it, speaking to her as gently as he once had when they were children, the day she'd come home sobbing from Sunday school because the minister had told her that ponies didn't go to heaven. Her beloved Shetland, Popcorn, had just been put down, and she'd been inconsolable. It had been left to Vaughn to assure her—though he knew no such thing—that Popcorn was up in heaven at that very moment, grazing in greener pastures. “It's not a death sentence, Lila,” he reassured her now. “The oncology department at New York—Presbyterian is supposed to be the best there is. And the doctor in Johannesburg said I stood a good chance of a full recovery.”

She went on staring at him while slowly shaking her head. “Oh, God. I feel so terrible. All this time I've been going on about my own problems and you …” She started to choke up again.

“I
want
you to come to me with your problems,” he told her. “Whatever it is, we're in it together. That goes both ways.” Their parents used to joke that they'd come out of the womb attached to a single cord, and it wasn't far from the truth.

“But I won't be here. Who's going to look after you?” she asked plaintively.

“I've been doing a pretty good job of looking after myself for the past forty-some years,” he reminded her. “Anyway, I won't be all by myself, if that's what's worrying you. Gillian will be around if I need anything.”

“I could tell Abby I changed my mind. It's not too late for me to back out.”

“No,” Vaughn said firmly. “I won't have you putting your life on hold because of me. Besides, if you don't take this job, where would you go?”

“A compelling point. But you don't have to be so damn noble about it. You're making me look like a crybaby in comparison.” She managed a small, teary-eyed smile.

“Who's comparing? Anyway, I won't be feeling so noble when I'm losing all my hair and puking my guts out.”

“I bet you'll look cute bald.”

“You ought to know. I was bald in all my baby pictures.”

They stood there, each contemplating their own and the other's peculiar fate. He'd never felt closer to his twin sister than he did at that moment. He wondered if he could have known this deep, wordless companionship with a wife, and he felt a mild pang of regret that he hadn't loved any of his girlfriends enough to marry one. Now, though, he thought he understood the appeal: Marriage, for whichever one went first, meant you didn't have to be alone at the end.

“Don't think you're going to be rid of me,” Lila said after a bit. “I'll be coming around so often, you'll be sick of looking at me.”

“Believe me, I'm counting on it,” he said.

“All right, now that that's settled, what do you feel like doing? We have the whole rest of the day.” She spoke with forced cheer, as if determined not to let this ruin his visit. “We could go for a walk or just hang out here. What's your pleasure?”

“Honestly? What I'd really like is to get some sleep.” Vaughn struggled to suppress a yawn.