12 Rose Street (29 page)

Lexi was deep in sleep. “I think it’s time we headed home,” Margot said. “But you guys stay. I can get Declan to take us.”

“We should all get going,” Zack said. “I just checked the weather and the reprieve from the rain is about to end.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Margot said. “But first I’m visiting the ladies’ room.”

“Me too,” I said. I handed Lexi to Zack.

He drew her close. “She always smells so good,” he said.

“Not always,” Margot said.

The women’s bathroom at Magoos was a trip down memory lane. There were Hollywood-style makeup mirrors and the walls featured photographs of Mr. Magoo, the cranky, myopic, misanthropic cartoon character ogling the silver screen beauties of the day: Jane Russell, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Debbie Reynolds, and Elizabeth Taylor.

Two years earlier when Margot and I had stood in front of adjacent mirrors repairing our makeup in the ladies’ room at Magoos, I had guessed correctly that she was pregnant. This Thanksgiving weekend, she was five months into her second pregnancy. Margot was a woman who bloomed with pregnancy: her skin and hair glowed, but as she stared at her reflection, she looked close to tears.

“Bad night?” I said.

“No,” she said. Then she laughed. “Actually, no and yes. Jo, my brain knows that Brock’s gay, but my body hasn’t seemed to pick up on that. When he and I were dancing I was feeling urges that a pregnant woman should not be feeling.”

“You’re pregnant, you’re not dead,” I said. “Gay or straight, Brock’s a very attractive man. When I was pregnant, my hormones were in overdrive.”

Margot raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I can’t imagine you in overdrive.”

“I was, especially when I was pregnant with the boys. Ian loved it. He said half the time he couldn’t even get out of his coat before I was ripping off his pants.” Suddenly I remembered that even during my pregnancies, Jill had been in the picture. “Screw Ian,” I said. “Brock’s a nice guy who happens to be very hot; you’re a healthy woman who, at the moment, has raging hormones. What you’re feeling is perfectly normal.”

The party was breaking up when we got back. Gracie and Isobel had zipped up their windbreakers and were helping Jacob with his. Madeleine and Lena and Taylor and Declan
were having one last dance. Mieka, her brothers, and Maisie were chatting. Lexi had awakened and was playing with one of the ornamental gourds that had been in a basket on our table.

Margot scooped up her daughter. “That’s a gourd,” she said. “The wartiest gourd in the basket– good choice.”

Brock was at Margot’s elbow. “Allow me to carry the owner of the warty gourd to the boat. When we came, I noticed the ground was getting slippery.” Lexi held her arms out to Brock, and the matter was settled.

The evening was our treat, so Zack and I were the last to leave the restaurant. As we started down the hill, he said, “So what were you and Margot doing in the women’s bathroom all that time?”

“Kissing,” I said.

He chortled. “You always say that.”

“And every time I say it, you and I end up with some very pleasant midnight groping.”

It was drizzling Sunday morning when I put the leashes on Pantera and Willie. The night before, Howard had announced that he was coming with me on the morning walk, and I should rap on his door before I got ready. Howard was not a fan of physical activity, nor was he an early riser, so I assumed he had an agenda. He was dressed when I knocked on his door, and it didn’t take him long to get to the point. We had just started down the hill to the beach when he said, “I want to talk about Jill.”

“Go for it,” I said.

Howard grunted. “You always surprise me. I figured the minute I mentioned Jill’s name, you’d shut me down.”

“It’s 5:45 a.m., it’s raining, and you’re out for a walk,” I said. “You’ve earned a hearing. Say what you want to say.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” he said. “I was hoping you might give Jill another chance.”

“At what?” I said. “Being my friend? Howard, I loved Jill, and I trusted her. So did the kids. From the time they were babies, Auntie Jill was always the fun aunt. The one who never tired of playing ride-a-horsey with them; the one who took them to the Ex and gave them money for the midway; the one who took them to the rock concerts and bought them overpriced T-shirts. Even after Jill moved to Toronto, she stayed in touch with the kids. She was as much a part of their lives as you are. But the other day Mieka told me that when she packed Jill’s bag, it made her sick to touch Jill’s clothes. I’ve tried to talk to Peter and Angus about the situation, but as soon as I mention Jill’s name, they freeze. And it makes me crazy because I know they’re hurting.”

“Do you want me to talk to them?”

“What would you say? Howard, you’re good at spin, but even you couldn’t spin Ian’s affair with Jill in a way that would make my kids feel less betrayed or make me feel less inadequate.”

Howard slapped his forehead. “Jesus, Jo, you don’t often misread a situation, but you’re way out in left field with this. It was
Ian
who felt inadequate. That’s why he turned to Jill. That’s why he stayed with her.”

“And what sent you leaping to that conclusion?”

“Ian did. I told you I talked to him a hundred times about ending it with Jill. In addition to everything else, he was jeopardizing his future. One night we had a few drinks together, and I revisited the subject. I told him that he had to choose: he could either end the affair with Jill or he could kiss his future political aspirations goodbye.”

“And he chose Jill.”

“He didn’t have to choose. He said that Jill loved you and the kids. She knew you and the children would always be part of Ian’s life and that’s the way she wanted it.”

“Howard, that is just bizarre.”

“Maybe so, but I’d worked myself into a corner where the bizarre was acceptable. I had a huge personal investment in Ian. I’d brought him along; I’d groomed him; I’d made him deputy premier and I’d made certain there was nobody else waiting in the wings. Ian was performing brilliantly. You and he were an extraordinary team: young, smart, and blessed with an appealing family. I knew that if we kept it together, Ian could become federal leader, and as federal leader, he could open up a whole new area of possibilities for us.”

“So where did Jill fit in?

“Ian said he couldn’t function without her. When I pressed him, he said he needed Jill because he needed someone who looked up to him.”

“And I didn’t look up to him.”

Howard’s voice was husky. “You remember how it was. Ian had shortcomings and you filled the gaps.”

“Isn’t that what people do in a healthy relationship? That’s the way it is for Zack and me.”

“Ian wasn’t Zack. Zack is comfortable in his own skin. He knows how good he is. The fact that you’re good at what you do isn’t a threat to him.”

“And it was to Ian?”

“Yeah. You were smarter than Ian was and that galled him. The speeches he gave that really inspired people were the ones you wrote. And you were better with people than he was. When Ian’s arrogance pissed people off, you smoothed the ruffled feathers. When he blew up at members of his staff, you talked them into staying with him.”

“Howard, I never made a big deal about anything I did.”

“I know you didn’t. But Ian knew how much he needed you, and he resented it.”

Suddenly I was livid. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Ian needed me to keep his political career on track. His need
made him resentful, so he worked off his resentment by having sex with Jill.”

“I’m sorry, Jo.”

“So am I,” I said. “Give me a break, Howard. You’ve just destroyed whatever shreds of respect I had left for Ian.”

“Ian was a good man,” Howard said. “He simply made an error in judgment. Can’t you accept that?”

“Why should I accept that?” I said. “When a good man makes an error in judgment, he atones for it. Ian just kept right on banging Jill.”

“Jo, you’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m not a saint, Howard.”

“Agreed. But you
are
a woman who has a houseful of people who love her waiting to celebrate Thanksgiving with her. Jill doesn’t have that. She doesn’t have anybody but a bottom feeder who’s after her money and a future that sucks. You won, Jo. Do the right thing.”

When we got back from our walk, Zack met me at the door with a lapful of old beach towels. The beach had been muddy. Our hose was still hooked up, so I hosed Pantera and Willie down, gave them a preliminary rub, and sent them inside to shake off the excess water on Zack.

After the dogs had wandered into the sunroom, Zack poured us both a cup of coffee. “Jill called,” he said.

“Speak of the devil,” I said.

Zack’s head snapped up. “Whoa. Where did that come from?”

“Howard just finished explaining to me that Ian banged Jill because I made him feel inadequate.”

“I’m not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole,” Zack said.

“Very wise,” I said. “Did Jill say what she wanted?”

“She wanted you. She’s going to call back.”

“Swell.” Right on cue, my cell rang.

Jill’s tone was urgent. “I have to see you, Jo.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” I said. “We’re at the lake.”

“I’m at the lake too. More accurately, I’m at the Dairy Queen at the turnoff to your place. Can you meet me here?”

“What’s this about, Jill?”

“You were right about Graham,” she said, and her voice was dead.

“I just got back from taking the dogs for a run,” I said. “I need to shower and change. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I was dressed and my hair was combed but still wet when I came out of our bedroom. Zack was waiting for me. “What’s up?”

“Jill wants to see me. I’m meeting her at the
DQ
on the highway.”

Zack wheeled over to the closet where we hung our jackets. He handed me mine and then took down his. “I’m coming with you. Whatever’s going on, you shouldn’t be alone.”

I kissed the top of Zack’s head. “I’m glad I have you,” I said.

“And I’m glad I have you,” he said. “Jo, do you ever have second thoughts about this mayoralty thing?”

“Constantly,” I said. “But we can’t turn back. That quote from Edmund Burke you’ve been using puts steel in my spine. Now we’d better make tracks. We’re eating at six, and there’s a lot to do before you sharpen your trusty Henckel and call us to the table.”

Jill was sitting by the window when we got to the Dairy Queen. The rain was falling steadily. It was a gloomy morning and somehow the fluorescent lights of the
DQ
only deepened the gloom. When we pulled into the parking lot, Zack opened the door on the passenger side and reached into the back seat for his chair. I didn’t move.

“Aren’t you coming?” Zack said.

“I am. I just need a minute. I’m still smarting from Howard’s insight.” I opened the car door and stepped out into the rain. “Okay. I’m ready, but let’s make it quick.”

When she saw us, Jill gave a brief wave. I joined her, and Zack took a place at a table across the room where he could keep me in view.

Like me, Jill hadn’t bothered with makeup, and the scattering of freckles on her pale skin brought back memories of the fresh-faced girl I’d once known.

“Thanks for coming,” she said. “Does Zack really believe he needs to protect you from me?”

“He doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“It’s probably just as well Zack came. He should hear this too.” When Jill reached into her bag and took out her phone, I motioned to Zack to join us. He and Jill exchanged greetings and then Jill turned her attention to her phone. “Slater called Graham early this morning. Graham thought I was still sleeping, so he took the call in the living room. I went over to the bedroom door and opened it a crack. I thought if Graham caught me, I’d just say I’d heard the phone and wondered if everything was all right.”

“But he didn’t catch you,” Zack said.

“I guess it was my lucky day,” Jill said. She tapped her phone and I heard Graham Meighen’s voice, loud and furious: “Slater, the media are going to be out in full force, to see if Ridgeway shows. He has to be at St. Joseph’s Hall by noon today. It’s a tradition. The mayor and city council always serve dinner to the homeless at Thanksgiving. Ridgeway doesn’t have to say a goddamned thing. All he has to do is show up, throw a slice of turkey on a fucking plate, and not look like a zombie.

“Put him on. I’ll tell him myself.” There was a pause, then Meighen said, “Scott, Slater tells me you’re not feeling well
enough to go to dish out the turkey today. People are already asking questions about what the hell’s going on with you. If you don’t show up today, people are going to continue asking questions and sooner or later they’re going to stumble on things we don’t want them to stumble on. Then we’ll lose the election and the ground will open up and swallow us all.

“It’s up to you to keep that from happening. Scott, we’re in the clear. Cronus is out of the picture, so the four of us are the only ones who can connect us with that night, and none of us are going to talk.”

The tape clicked off. “Graham didn’t catch you?” I said.

Jill picked up her paper napkin and began pleating it into accordion folds. “No, he went to the bathroom. By the time he came back to bed I was there pretending to be asleep.”

“Do you have any idea about the night Graham was talking about?” Zack asked

“No,” Jill said. “But I’m going to find out. Graham and I are through, but he doesn’t know that.”

“What happened?”

Jill focused on pleating her napkin. “He was cheating on me. Jo, I realize the irony of me talking about betrayal with you, but if you can get past that, I’m in a position now to get my story and to help your campaign. Graham is flailing. He was counting on Liz’s money to get him out of the hole he’s dug himself, but recently Liz changed her will and left everything to the Beverly Levy Scholarship Fund.”

I whistled. “Whoa.”

Jill was cool. “Whoa, indeed. Anyway, Graham’s desperate, and desperate people make mistakes. Graham may not trust me completely, but he needs my money. Last night he asked me for $500,000.”

I touched her arm. “Be careful, Jill.”