All Who Are Lost (Ashmore's Folly Book 1) (21 page)

She flipped over a few pages to a picture of the adult Laura. She had one photo among all the clippings, sent to her in response to one of her letters to Laura’s record company. (“Miss Courtney appreciates your interest and support of her music and hopes that you will enjoy her new album,
Waterfalls
, available in record stores everywhere.”) She’d nearly torn it up in anger, and one corner was still rumpled from its sojourn in the waste basket before she’d rescued it.

Cat Courtney. No doubt ever that Cat was Laura, not Francie in some elaborate charade. That voice identified her anywhere, low, huskier now, undeniably Laura’s. Other physical distinctions marked her too, things only her family would notice. The way she parted her hair, Diana thought. The needy look in those eyes, the legacy of never enough attention, Lucy said. Her damned ungrateful silence, snapped Dominic, nicely overlooking that his pet Francie had remained just as silent.

I don’t know you
, Lucy thought.
I used to
– and she flipped hastily back to a picture of the younger Laura, excited at wearing her first long dress at Diana’s wedding.
I didn’t pay as much attention to you as I should have, and I’m sorry about that, I’m so sorry. You were still at home, and I had to stay away so he wouldn’t suck me into that whole dark sickness of his. And I left you there with Francie, and of course you got the short end of the stick.

I don’t know you now. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and now you’re here, and I don’t know what to say to you. You sit in that photo, in all that mist and mystery, and you have nothing to do with the Laura I knew. And I don’t know if I want you back. I don’t want you disturbing everything I’ve worked for. I can take care of Di, now that Dominic’s gone. Richard’s way past everything that happened, and Julie is almost grown. They don’t need you.

But you need us, and, oh, I need you,
said Lucy Maitland silently.
You left such a hole in my heart. I’m damned if you’re walking away from me again.

She spent the afternoon moodily staring out the window, waiting for vendor deliveries, waiting for Diana to show up with some implausible excuse, waiting for Laura so that she could wring her neck.

Julie called, wanting to share her excitement. Funny, thought Lucy, listening to her niece bubble on, paging through her memories, but Laura might find that only Julie truly welcomed her back into the fold. Laura had disappeared shortly after Julie’s second birthday, so Julie had no real memories of the young Laura; she knew only the glamor and mystery of Cat Courtney. The years of Laura’s silence had never hurt or infuriated or drained her.

Probably because only Julie, of all of them, suffered no guilt.

“The only strange thing,” Julie babbled on, and Lucy wrenched her attention back to her niece. “I asked Dad about inviting her over for dinner – I mean, she’s going to live near us, so I thought it might be a – a
welcoming
thing to do.”

“It would,” concurred Lucy, and stopped at a photo of Laura Abbott on the steps of Ashmore Magna at fourteen, gazing adoringly at her oblivious brother-in-law. “She has a daughter a few years younger than you. She’d probably enjoy talking with you.”

“I don’t think he wants to,” said Julie. “He got really quiet and said that he’d have to check, he wasn’t sure she would be available. But of course she will be, that’s the whole point of her coming home, isn’t it, to see all of us? Do you think it’s because of 9/11? What should we say to her about that? Do you think she’s still in mourning?”

“I’d wait for her to bring the subject up,” said Lucy, who had no intention of waiting. “People do get over things, even as terrible as that. Your dad said she seemed to be doing pretty well.”

“Well,” said Julie, going into confidante mode, “it’s almost like he doesn’t want to see her again. What do you think that’s all about? I always thought they were friends, but then, I remember, I really had to pester him in London to get him to go backstage.”

Lucy murmured something soothing and noncommittal, she wasn’t sure what the moment the words left her mouth, but mentally, she started rearranging the jigsaw pieces. So Richard
didn’t
want to see Laura. She cast her mind back over their talk that morning, and in retrospect, his reticence loomed larger, darker, louder in its silence. What had happened the night before that Richard wanted to conceal?

She disentangled herself from the call. “Forget your father, Julie. I promise you’ll get to meet her.”
Oh, famous last words, you can’t even find her yourself.

The bartender intruded upon her thoughts; deliveries and invoices demanded her attention. The afternoon had worn away; the staff would be trooping in soon, and she hadn’t accomplished anything on her to-do list.

She blamed that, with great pleasure, on Laura.

And where the hell was Diana?

~•~

“Ms. Maitland?” The bartender stuck his head around the door into the middle of a discussion with a supplier. “Your sister’s here for you.”

“Fine,” said Lucy absently, jotting down notes and figures. “Tell her I’m on my way out. No, no, tell her to get back here, she needs to take care of this.”

He disappeared, and Lucy turned back to wrangling a better net-10 discount. She enjoyed this; she was an excellent negotiator, and she liked the give-and-take of bargaining. Diana hated it, so Lucy wasn’t surprised that her sister dragged her feet joining them. No doubt Diana, Scotch in hand, was rehearsing an elaborate excuse to explain away her tardiness. Lucy had grown used to such stories; she’d listened to Diana lying her way out of trouble most of her life. So she was caught unawares when the supplier, in the midst of a calculation, looked beyond her shoulder and froze silent.

She knew, she knew from the first flare of consternation in the man’s eyes, and for a moment she fought turning around. Anyone else, she thought wildly, she wasn’t ready for this, she didn’t know what to say, what could she say, what should she do—

“Lucy?” And there was no hiding now from the lilt of that voice, rich in all its history and longing and fear. Lucy drew in a shuddering breath and turned around.

Her first thought, absurdly, was that this was not Laura at all, but Francie.

Oh, Laura had changed. She cataloged all the changes in those first few seconds: Laura was taller now, a little curvier, infinitely more polished. Her perfectly tailored slacks were Bond Street chic, her blouse must have cost a thousand dollars, her shoes and shoulder bag whispered that she never consulted a budget. And her hair – Lucy frankly stared. Shorter than she’d expected, but beautifully cut and as far from the ponytail of old as she could imagine.

And Laura, unnervingly, returned her silence.

“Ms. Maitland?” the rep reminded her.

“I’m sorry. Excuse us, please,” said Lucy, without breaking the stare-down, and decisively shoved her errant sister out into the hall.

Her action broke the spell. She shut the door quickly and whipped around to see Laura wincing.

“You have a hell of a nerve showing up here.” She marveled at the icy control of her voice; she felt anything but cold. Such a cauldron of emotions boiled inside – rage, shock, heartsick relief that Laura had not run away again – that she felt herself teetering on the edge of explosion. Laura’s eyes widened at her tone, but she did not retreat in the face of her fury. Lucy, perversely, was glad of that.

“Yes.” Laura did not flinch. “I do have a hell of a nerve.”

That cool agreement knocked the wind out of Lucy’s sails. She preferred a fight. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling around all day, looking for you.”

“I’m sorry.” Laura’s voice offered conciliation. “I went out to the Eastern Shore, and I got lost coming back—”

“Not that,” Lucy said furiously. “Although you could have called, damn it, Richard said he gave you the number.” Her voice slipped into a tremble and betrayed her. “Damn you, Laurie, I’ve been worried sick about you! I
looked
for you! I
wanted
to know how you were, I wanted to make sure you were safe and happy, and you never even wrote me – or called me – or acted like you remembered us – you never answered Richard’s note – I couldn’t believe it when he told me—”

She caught her breath, and then Laura moved towards her, and she felt her sister’s arms closing around her, hugging her in closely. Her resistance lasted a second, maybe two; she was starved for this warmth, she treasured the tears that dropped onto her shoulder. Lucy clung to her fiercely. “Damn it, baby, I missed you! Don’t you even
think
of running away again! Ever!”

“Oh, Lucy,” and Laura laughed shakily, tears and laughter bubbling up together. “I don’t think I’d dare.”

~•~

“So why did you go to Richard first, brat?”

“I didn’t. He found me.” Laura leaned towards the mirror and attempted to repair her face. “Don’t ask how, either. I’m not sure myself.”

“A secret, huh?” The mirror reflected Lucy’s speculative glance at her. “He’s playing mystery man about last night. What happened?”

Thank heavens. That had worried her, not knowing what Richard might have told her sisters. She ducked her head and pretended to search for a comb. “Nothing. We talked for a while, then he had to leave to pick Julie up from babysitting.” Time to change the subject. “I’m really thirsty. Can we get something to drink?”

“Sure.” Lucy opened the door to the dressing room. “We have a whole bar at your command.”

Laura asked for a Perrier, and what might have been approval and might have been relief flashed across her sister’s face before Lucy waved her over to a side table and called out an order to the bartender. Coming here to the club might not have been the wisest thing to do. The room that had first appeared deserted, empty enough for a reunion that promised pain at worst and awkwardness at best, now seemed filled with people. Word had gotten around quickly that the missing Cat Courtney had walked in the door.

She waited until Lucy had collapsed into a chair to ask, “Where’s Di?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” She picked up on the sharpness of Lucy’s voice, but maybe she was hypersensitive, too much on edge. “She should be in soon. She’s supposed to work tonight.”

A waiter approached and set their drinks on the table; Laura carefully did not meet his eyes. Oh, she
had
made a mistake, coming here to the club. She hadn’t considered that her sisters’ employees might witness this first meeting; no one could blame them for their curiosity. She could only hope that no one had called the press.
Mystery Cat reunites with long-lost sisters….

“Richard says you have a daughter,” Lucy broke into her thoughts. “How old is she?”

The first of many such questions she’d have to dodge. “Twelve. Going on thirty.”

“Twelve? You didn’t waste any time, did you?” Lucy sounded envious. She sipped her mineral water and reached for the photos Laura held out. “Laurie – first off – what can I say? I am so sorry, I cannot even imagine what it was like to lose your husband like that, and Richard said you watched it all as it was happening. I hear you were getting divorced, but still it must have been – well, I don’t have any words. How are you doing?”

“Okay,” Laura said when Lucy stopped for breath. “It helped when they stopped showing everything on TV so we didn’t have to see it over and over again. Last fall was pretty grim.”

“And your daughter?” Lucy looked at Meg’s picture. “Good heavens, Laurie, what a beauty. Is she coping all right? I looked up some articles this morning on helping kids deal with 9/11 if you want to see them. Here, write down your email address. I’ll send you the links when I get home.”

She had forgotten – or had she just not wanted to remember? – Lucy’s essential goodness. “We went to a counselor for a few months. Meg is – she has a very strong character. She finally decided that she was going to go on, and she resolutely set her sights on the future. But she misses him so much. I am dreading the first anniversary.”

“Oh, I am all for counseling,” said Lucy. “And thank goodness you took her, what a smart thing to do. So many people try to tough it out, and this is too big for that. I read an article on how there are going to be terrible mental health issues in a couple of years when we have a chance to catch our breath. But, anyway, back to Meg – when do I get to meet her? You’re bringing her up here, aren’t you?”

She also should have remembered Lucy’s ability to bore in on a subject. She remained silent.

Lucy leaned forward. “Don’t give me that song and dance you gave Richard about having to shield her. I want to meet my niece. Ask Julie, she will tell you I am the world’s best aunt.”

“Lucy,” she hesitated, “let’s just see how it goes, okay?”

“It’s going to go fine,” said Lucy. “Bring her up here.”

“We’ll see,” Laura murmured, and prayed that Lucy would find something else to talk about.

Her older sister settled back in her chair and looked at her with a speculation that reminded Laura to pay attention. “I understand your husband was a computer genius,” she said. “I never heard of St. Bride Data until – well, you know, but my husband was very impressed. You’ll have to meet Tom, he’s a fan of yours, he’s the most wonderful man—”

She had married Tom Maitland eight years ago, she told Laura. They’d met at an RC competition when he approached Richard ostensibly to compliment him on a model, really to meet her. “And I only went because Richard wanted me to watch Julie, and I thought, well, here goes two hours out of my life I’ll never get back. And then I met Tom!” Their personal alliance had become professional as well; they had started their own law practice a few years before. They lived in one of the newer suburbs and raised African violets, “real suburbanites – me! the rebel!”; they had no children. “Yet,” added Lucy, and Laura noticed that her hand stole to her stomach. Aha!

“So how about you?” Lucy slouched down and propped her feet up on the next chair. “So why were you getting divorced? Tell me all about it.”

Laura had started to relax, falling prey to Lucy’s artless confidences. She should have remembered how Lucy soothed her prey to the kill. “Just like that? You haven’t seen me for years, and that’s the first thing you want to know?”