Celebration (8 page)

“That was pretty damn stupid of you, Kris.”

“Yes, I guess it was. I loved him so much, Sadie. He was my life. Waking up next to him every morning was a thrill not to be believed. I worshiped him. There was nothing I wouldn't have done for him. He said he felt the same way. We were good together. We were in love. Twenty years later we were as much in love as we were the day we got married. I refuse to believe I was so stupid I didn't see ... things.”

“You were obsessive, Kris. You saw and heard what you wanted to see and hear. You made excuses and believed those excuses. Your kids saw through it. Look. That's past. You can't unring the bell. In case you haven't noticed, you've been talking in the past tense, so I guess that means in your heart of hearts you know something is very wrong. Is it possible you're beginning to believe your kids?”

Kristine shrugged. “Has Jim said anything?”

“No. It's a guy thing, Kris. These guys have their own cockamamie code when it comes to stuff like this. I did hear him talking to Joe Evans one day last summer. He made a comment that ol' Logan was off again for fun and games. It was the weekend of Sandy Richards's birthday party. You came alone.”

“I remember. That far back, huh?”

Sadie steered the Volvo to the curb and cut the engine. There was concern in her dark brown eyes when she stared at her friend. “I'll wait here for you. How much money are we talking about, Kris?”

Kristine felt the snow crunch beneath her boots as she leaned down to respond. “Eight million dollars,” she said in a strangled voice before she slammed the car door shut.

It was a good twenty minutes before Kristine was ushered into Steven Owens's office at the American Consulate. She held out her hand. “I'm Kristine Kelly, Mr. Owens. I called you last week about my husband Logan. Do you have any news?”

He was a tall man, thin, with ginger-colored hair that stood on end. Dressed in a heavy wool sweater and thick corduroy trousers, he motioned for Kris to sit down. “Our heat isn't too good today. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No thank you. What were you able to find out?”

“Colonel Kelly never had a reservation on Lufthansa. I checked the military flights as well as the other airlines. There was never a reservation. Your own and the children's showed up, though. When Captain Dellwood dropped him off, Logan must have waited and then left. No ticket was ever issued in his name. I had two of my aides go to all the airports to show his picture around. No one remembers seeing him. That's it, Mrs. Kelly.”

“He couldn't have just dropped off the face of the earth. He has to be somewhere.”

“He could be anywhere. Someone could have driven him someplace. He could have taken a train. There were thousands of travelers at that particular time. During the holidays everyone is busy, and no one pays attention. Did he have much money on him?”

“I don't know if he had it on him or not, but he had access to eight million dollars.”

“I see.”

“What do you see, Mr. Owens?” Kristine asked coldly.

Steven Owens looked away. “It's just an expression.”

“You aren't a very good liar, Mr. Owens. You think the same thing everyone else thinks. You think Logan took all our money and lit out. Whether he did it with another woman is optional. That is what you were thinking, isn't it?”

“Well, I ... it is one explanation. I'm sorry to say I have no others.”

“What about his passport? Is there any way we can check to see if he entered another country?”

“Not really. He could be anywhere, Mrs. Kelly. If he is in fact eluding you and doesn't want to be found, then you won't find him. I'm sorry to be telling you this. It's the way it is.”

Kristine struggled to find her voice. It was rusty-sounding to her ears when she finally managed to get the words out. “Did you check the hospitals and clinics?”

“Of course, Mrs. Kelly. There was nothing to find. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“What about an assumed name with new papers?”

“I don't know. It's possible. I would need a name, something more to go on. Unfortunately, real life is nothing like the movies, Mrs. Kelly.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Owens.”

Kristine felt a thousand years old as she made her way down the long corridor and the hundred or so steps that led to the ground level. She wanted to cry. She needed to cry. Her eyes felt dry and hot, but there were no tears.

Inside the warm car, Sadie reached out to her friend. “What did they say?”

Kristine stared at her friend, seeing things she'd never noticed before. The light spattering of freckles under her eyes and how compassionate those brown eyes were. Her hairdo was new and lighter or was it always that way and she just never noticed? She appeared to have lost weight, too. And her children adored her, confided in her. “They said Logan never had a reservation on Lufthansa or any other airline. I wanted to make it for him, but Logan said I had enough to do with the packing and he would handle it. I said okay. He was to leave on the fifteenth and arrive home on the sixteenth. They checked the hospitals and the clinics and came up dry. He did ask how much money Logan had, and when I told him, he said, ‘I see.' That was the end of that. I rather imagine you're thinking the same thing right now.”

“That kind of money is way over my head. I guess you want to go to the bank now.”

“If it's not too much trouble. If you'd rather go home, I can rent a car and do all the chasing around on my own. I hate to impose, Sadie.”

“You aren't imposing. We're friends. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“There is. You can take me to Winklers for something to eat after I finish at the bank.”

Sadie steered the Volvo into traffic.
She's so capable, so efficient
, Kristine thought. She loved Sadie, loved the bright auburn curls with the tinge of gray at the temples, the light dusting of freckles across her cheekbones, loved her ready smile. Childless, she was godmother to so many children she had to keep a book with the birth dates listed in alphabetical order. She was Kristine's one true friend.

“I'd love to go to Winklers. Do you think the bank will tell you anything?”

“They have to tell me. My name is on the account. They can't refuse to tell me what I want to know.”

But they did refuse to tell her, citing banking laws.

“No, no, you don't understand. Get out the file card. My signature is on it.”

“Madam, your account was closed out three years ago. There is no account at this bank that has your name on it. Colonel Logan himself had an account with only his name on file. I cannot divulge any more information.”

“That money is mine! I can prove it!” Kristine all but screamed.

“Madam, you must lower your voice. This is a bank.”

“Then you better get someone here to talk to me who knows what the hell is going on. Where is my money?”

“Please, come with me, Madam.”

Kristine scurried after the pompous, fussy little man into a tiny office where an obese man sat behind a desk that was much too small for his girth. “I speak German fluently so don't think you can talk and I won't understand. Where is my money, Mr. Hoffstetler?” Kristine asked, looking at the name plate on the man's desk.

“Your money isn't here, Mrs. Kelly, and it hasn't been here for three years. Your husband transferred large sums of money into another account bearing only his name. This was legal since the account was a joint account. When those transactions were completed, he then closed out the joint account. That is all I can tell you. I must contend with privacy and banking laws. Your husband had your power of attorney, Madam.”

Kristine felt her shoulders sag. “I can't find my husband, Mr. Hoffstetler. He was supposed to return to the United States on December sixteenth. He never arrived. The money he was supposed to wire to our Virginia bank never arrived, either. Eight million dollars is a lot of money, Mr. Hoffstetler. I have three children. Tell me what to do.”

“I cannot help you, Mrs. Kelly. The answers you seek lie with your husband.”

“Goddamn it, I can't find my husband. If I could, do you think I'd be sitting here talking to you? Can you tell me when my husband closed out his own account?”

“No, Mrs. Kelly, I cannot tell you that.”

“Go to hell!” Kristine snarled as she gathered up her purse and gloves.

“It didn't go so good, eh?” Sadie said as she shifted gears. “What happened?”

Kristine told her. “My God, Sadie, he must have been planning this for a long time. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You loved him. Love makes one blind at times.”

“Blind, dumb,
and
stupid. Me of all people. The saddest part is I did not have a clue that something wasn't right. That certainly doesn't say much for me, does it?”

“The circumstances might be a little different, but you and I have both seen this happen to hundreds of families over the years. Somehow, they all managed to survive and get on with their lives. You will, too, Kristine.”

“Sadie, I didn't say I was buying this whole package. I admit that things look black right now. I am not about to rule out the possibility that something happened to my husband. Foul play is not out of the question either as far as I'm concerned.”

“I don't believe what I'm hearing,” Sadie said. “Do you need to be run over by a truck first? It's in your face, Kristine. Look at it and deal with it.”

“Not until I'm sure. In his letter Logan said he loved me. He said we'd had a good life, which is true. He loves the kids. He really does, Sadie. Yes he was strict, yes he made them toe the line, but they're better people for it.”

“They don't think so. Speaking four languages and living all over the world doesn't make them better people. You and I both know that. Now that Logan isn't on the scene, you are the one who has to take responsibility for the loss of their childhood. They didn't ask to be good little soldiers; they didn't ask to live their lives by Logan's book. If you don't face up to what is right under your nose, then you are going to lose it all—and that includes your children. I've never been a mother, but my heart tells me there can be nothing worse than one's own child turning on you. In your case, three children. You will have no reserve to draw on. This is not a good situation, Kristine.”

“Let's skip Winklers. I need to get some sleep. I've never been good with jet lag.”

“I guess that's your way of telling me you aren't interested in my opinions. Sometimes, life isn't fair, Kris. You do look kind of ragged. A few hours' sleep will work wonders. Jim is working this evening, so we can do dinner at Winklers if you want.”

“That sounds good. I promised the kids I would call to let them know I arrived safely. Did you have a nice holiday, Sadie?”

“Hectic. It was one party after the other. Same old same old. I just put away all the decorations yesterday. Now I'm concentrating on spring and the colorful flowers I'm going to plant in my small garden. And how was your holiday?”

“Lousy. We had hot dogs, french fries, and Jell-O. The tree was nice. The kids tried. I guess I didn't try hard enough. I also drank too much. I've been doing that a lot lately. It helps me to sleep.”

“You better watch it, my friend, or you'll end up like Miriam Laskey. Liquor is not your answer. Dealing with the problem at hand is your answer. Now, tell me, what are you going to do?”

“I'm going to do what I came here to do, check out everything personally. Then I'm going to go back to Virginia to wait for my husband. It's all I can do, Sadie. If I do anything else, that means my whole life has been one big lie. I absolutely refuse to believe that.”

“Okay, Kristine, I won't believe it either.”

Kristine smiled wanly. “You're a good friend, Sadie.”

Sadie shrugged, a chill running up her arms. “You, too, Kris.”

“Have a safe trip, Kristine. Call me so I know you got home safely. Kiss the kids for me.” Sadie shouted to be heard over the airport noise.

Kristine nodded, her eyes on the military police that had escorted her to the plane. Sadie winked at her. “Someday you will appreciate the humor of this, Kristine. You of all people being arrested for causing a disturbance with your husband's commanding officer. Jim is going to have a fit when he finds out. The worst part is we didn't find out a damn thing.” It was all said in one long shouting breath.

“It's not over, Sadie,” Kristine hissed. “It won't be over until my husband comes home. With my ...
our
money. No one gives a damn. They didn't even try to help me. They all believe Logan went off with another woman. I will never, ever believe that.”

“At least you got his pension. That's a plus. Threatening to go on national television and writing to the president sure got things moving. I'm still having a hard time figuring out why Logan didn't change that over. I guess it would have left a paper trail of some kind. You got it, that's the important thing. I'll talk to you soon, Kristine.”

Kristine stared disdainfully at the MP, who was returning her stare. “I hate the whole goddamn, fucking military system. I gave you twenty fucking years of my life and when I need you, what do you do, you fucking arrest me and put me on a plane to get rid of me,” Kristine snarled.

“Yes, ma'am,” the MP said.

“Kristine, shhh, people are staring,” Sadie whispered.

“Like Logan says, who gives a good rat's ass if they stare or not. I'm going, I'm going,” she said to the MP, who motioned her to move forward with the announcement of the last boarding call.

Aware that people were staring at her, Kristine felt herself cringe. In her entire life she'd never acted the way she'd just acted. She'd never mouthed four-letter words in public, either. Lack of sleep, too much alcohol, jet lag, and very little food were probably the cause, along with not knowing what had happened to her husband. She'd just faced the proverbial brick wall and crashed into it.

Kristine reached into the overhead bin for a pillow and blanket. She buckled her seat belt and was asleep within minutes. She woke twenty minutes before the plane set down at Dulles International Airport.

Haggard, disheveled, and out of sorts, Kristine managed to get through customs with her bags and was standing outside the terminal when Cala and Mike pulled to the curb.

“I guess it didn't go very well, huh, Mom.”

“Well, I managed to get myself arrested by the MPs and thrown out of the Officers' Club all within an hour. The MPs escorted me to the plane. The consulate as much as told me not to call them again. Everyone, even Sadie and Jim, are convinced your father absconded with the money and another woman. I slept the entire flight, but I am so very tired. I just want to go home and go to bed.”

“Are you sorry you went, Mom?” Cala asked hesitantly.

“I never knew so many people detested your father. I thought he was respected and well liked. People I thought were my friends didn't seem to like me, either.”

Mike snorted but said nothing.

“Now what?” Cala asked, getting into the backseat so her mother could sit next to her brother.

“Well, we at least get your father's pension. Something went awry there. It's a decent amount of money. Jim seems to think your father didn't really screw that up. He thinks if he had taken it, there would have been a paper trail. It's your father's way of taking care of us. That's how I have to think about it.”

“Twenty-five grand in place of eight million. Yeah, that's a pretty fair swap. Wise up, Mom. Take off those blinders. He screwed us over, and you're still defending him. I hate this damn bullshit,” Mike said through clenched teeth.

“I do, too. We went up to the attic while you were gone. We had a few really bad snow days, so it seemed like a good thing to do. We found Grandma and Grandpa's old trunks. We found their wills. The will said ... what it said was ... the money Dad stole was to be put in trust for their grandchildren, if any. The remainder, the money which your parents inherited, was put in trust for you until you reached the age of fifty. The income was to be paid to you monthly. Did you know that, Mom?”

Kristine jerked to full wakefulness. “No. No, I didn't know that.”

“Why is that, Mom?” Mike bellowed. “Just tell us why that is.”

“I ... I was distraught ... first it was Solomon, then my parents, all the animals in the barn. It was a terrible time. Your father handled it all, even though we weren't married until two years later. I couldn't get a grip on things. All I did was cry. I signed whatever he told me to sign.”

“Like now. You can't get a grip now either. Why are Cala, Tyler, and I supposed to be so tough, so grown-up, so responsible, and you're this ... person who can't get a grip? Well, guess what, Mom. Your children are going to file a lawsuit against your husband to reclaim the portion of our grandparents' estate, that was supposed to come to us when we reached our majority. It's not the money. It's that the son of a bitch stole it right out from under us. With your help. You should have been aware. You should have protected our inheritance.
You
were the trustee, not him. Instead you gave that bastard the license to steal from all of us. Don't forget he stole the eight thousand dollars you saved out of your housekeeping money,” Mike bellowed in his mother's ear.

“Stop it! Stop it right this second! You will not sue your father. I forbid it. You can't sue someone you can't find. How are you going to have papers served on your father if you don't know where he is? I don't want to hear any more talk like this. Not now, not tomorrow, not next week, not ever again. It's over.”

“No, it's not, Mom. One of these days he's going to surface. I don't know why or when, but it will happen. That's when the lawyers will pounce on him. Don't you get it, Mom, he stole from us? Tell me, is that little ditty in the rule book?”

“We're leaving, Mom. Mike and I got accepted into Georgia Tech. Sadie got all our transcripts and had them faxed to the school. We go in as sophomores. Tyler goes in as a freshman. We'll be leaving next week. Sadie did it all for us. She said she called in some favors and made it work. She did what you should have done. We called Mr. Dunwoodie at the bank, took in Grandpa's will, showed him how we were supposed to inherit, and a portion of your monthly check is going to the school for our tuition. We're getting jobs, so that won't be too much of a drain on you. You'll have Dad's pension, and there's still money each month from your inheritance.”

Kristine felt the silent scream building deep in her throat. “You went behind my back and did all that. Sadie helped you! I will never forgive her for this betrayal. How dare you do this! How dare you! You aren't going anywhere. Let's make sure we understand that fact. You're underage. You only leave if I say you leave, and I say you aren't leaving.”

“Yes, Mom, we're going. If Dad had followed through, we'd be leaving anyway. If he was here, you wouldn't be able to wait to get rid of us. You know it, and we know it. There's no point in dancing around this. It's the way it is,” Mike said.

It was true, every word her son said. Kristine started to cry. “What will I do without you?”

“What did you do before?” Cala shot back. “You were never there for us. You were always busy with dear old Dad. You were never too busy for him. Sadie was more a mother to us than you were. I'm sorry, Mom. I wish it was different. We'll look after Tyler. We'll call to let you know how we're doing.”

“When ... when are you leaving?” Dear God, she'd caved in.

“Next week. We have to settle in, get jobs, get the lay of the land. Mr. Dunwoodie offered to drive us to Georgia. He's a really nice man. I think he felt sorry for us. He went to Georgia Tech, too. He pulled as many strings as Sadie did.”

Kristine curled into the corner and stared out the window. She wished she could lie down and die. She didn't mean to say the words aloud, but they tumbled from her lips like a runaway train. “Your father was a stern man and had definite ideas about child rearing. I don't want you to hate him.”

Kristine was jolted from her nest in the corner of the car and flung forward when Mike slammed on the brakes on the old country road. “Our father and your husband was a sadistic son of a bitch. My back and ass are full of scars from the beatings. So are Cala's. Tyler has psychological problems. We're going to get him fixed up. They have counselors at school who will help him. We're just damn lucky Dad's mind games didn't screw up our heads. Cala and I fought him. Sadie and Jim helped us. Sadie wanted to go to the CO, but Jim said it would be worse on us if he did. It was our decision to endure. Just so you know, we couldn't have done it without them. That's why Dad hated Jim so much and why he used to make fun of Sadie all the time. Tyler wouldn't open up, though. He was afraid of Dad. That was okay; Cala and I had enough hate in us for him, too. You let it happen, Mom.”

“Every child gets a whipping once in a while,” Kristine said lamely. “My father used to spank me all the time.” Her voice was lamer still when she said, “I never hated him for the spankings.”

Mike groaned. “We aren't talking about a spanking here. Cala, pull up your sweater. Show Mom your back. Is that what you call a spanking, Mom?”

Kristine gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

“End of discussion!” Mike roared as he slipped the car into gear and barreled down the road.

Kristine ignored her son's words. “Your father would never ...”

“Where were you, Mom?”

“You never cried ... you never said...”

“The goddamn book, Mom. Good little soldiers didn't cry and whine. We were good little soldiers. Where were you, Mom?”

“I was there. Your father ... didn't like interference. He said his way was best. You should have come to me. I swear, I didn't know. Dammit, you didn't cry. I didn't see ... I stopped giving you a bath when you were five. You wanted to do it yourself. What ... what did he use?”

“His army belt,” Cala said quietly. “I'm adding child abuse to the charges when we file our suit.”

“Dear God.” It was all she could think of to say. This had to be some kind of black nightmare. All she had to do was wait it out, and she would wake up. It wasn't going to happen. Deep in her gut she knew what her children said was true. They had absolutely no reason to lie. Mike was right. Where in the name of God was she when all this was going on? Doing all the things the book said she was supposed to do so her husband could move up in rank. Luncheons, committees, driving pools, dinner parties. Call Kristine. She'll be glad to do it. And she had. Because it pleased Logan. Everything in her life was about pleasing Logan. Merciful God, what had she done to her children and herself? How was she ever going to make this right? She gave voice to the question in her mind.

“We're home,” Cala said tightly.

“So we are.” Kristine wondered if the deep weariness she felt showed in her voice.

“I'll put the car in the barn. It's supposed to snow tonight,” Mike said.

“I made dinner,” Cala said.

“That was nice of you, Cala, but I'm not hungry. I think I'll go upstairs and ... and think about things.”

“Mom?”

“What is it, Cala?”

“I'm sorry. We're all sorry. This way is best. Time and space between us is probably what we all need. Mom, he isn't coming back.”

Kristine turned to face her daughter. “If you believe that, then why are you leaving?”

“Because we know you, Mom. You are going to sit here and wait for him to walk through the door. It isn't going to happen. We don't want to watch you destroy yourself, and that's what you're going to do. In your mind you're already trying to find an excuse for what he did to us, so you can live with it. We aren't going to be that far away. There are telephones. We all need to heal. We aren't the brightest people in the world, but from where we stand this seems to be our only option. If it doesn't work for us, we'd like to know we can come back to this place and, by the same token, if you need us, you only have to call.”

“This
place?”
Kristine said in a strangled voice.

“Yes. This place.
Your
home. We never had a real home. All of us wanted that. You know, a room of our own like the one upstairs that was yours when you were little. It's still your room, with all your old things. We never had things to keep. Each move stuff got lost or thrown out. The beds were the same. The rooms were always different. We're going to get an apartment off campus. Tyler will be able to visit and eat with us. The first year he has to stay in the dorm. He needs friends. It's going to be good for him, and for Mike and me, too.”

Kristine felt such a sense of loss she didn't know what to do. “You grew up right under my eyes, and I didn't even notice. My God, what does that say for me?” she muttered to herself as she made her way to the second floor.

It was Cala's turn to sit down on the steps and cry. Her sense of loss was so overwhelming, Mike had to put his arms around her.

“Guess she didn't take it too well, huh?”

“About as well as we're taking it. I hope we're doing the right thing.”

“Sadie said it was the right thing. Jim agreed. Mom will have to snap out of it with us gone. Look, if it doesn't work, we can come back and go to Virginia State or some other local college. This is for now. Later will take care of itself. It's dinnertime, so I suggest we eat and talk in the kitchen. Where the hell is Tyler?” Mike demanded.