Everlasting (42 page)

“I feel so disoriented.”

“Everything’s all right.” Kit stroked her arm and held her against him. He kissed her hair, then her cheeks, then her mouth. He pressed against her, warm, solid, as strong as a tree in a summer storm. Catherine pressed against him, grateful for his steadfastness in her unsteady world. They made love, and she fell asleep again and slept without dreaming until morning.

* * *

I
t wasn’t until three days later that Shelly appeared. Kit and Catherine knew he was coming, for Piet had called several times. He had told Shelly that Catherine had taken the two sets of account books and that as far as he was concerned he didn’t want to see Shelly on his premises again. Piet had also fired some of the men working in the loading sheds at the auction. Piet was planning to fly over to meet with Catherine and Kit as soon as they’d seen Shelly.

When at last Shelly called Catherine, she said, “Meet me at my apartment. I don’t want to talk to you here.” She called Kit and then rang her house, to tell Angela to have coffee and drinks ready for them in the living room. Then she left her shop and walked home.

Catherine had imagined this confrontation with her brother a dozen different times in a dozen different ways. She’d imagined Shelly furious, embarrassed, apologetic, in tears. He came in smiling. He was dressed in a navy blazer and gray flannels, he was clean-shaven, combed, and natty, not wrinkled and gray and exhausted as she’d thought he’d look.

“Hey, babe,” Shelly said cheerfully.

“Shelly, you goddamned asshole, I could kill you!” Catherine replied. “Catherine,” Kit said in a warning tone.

“No, I won’t calm down,” Catherine said to Kit without turning to look at him. “Shelly,
you idiot
! How could you do this!”

Shelly sank onto a sofa and busied himself at the coffee table fixing a glass of Scotch. “It was easy, actually. I mean the setup was all in place, just waiting to happen. I don’t know why you’re so upset. I didn’t take that much.”

“Never mind the money, how could you involve poor Carla in the scheme?”

“It was the only way it worked. She was the one who received the flowers at this end.”

“But didn’t you even once consider what you were doing to her? That you were drawing her into criminal activities? That—”

“Oh, come on, sis. ‘Criminal activities.’ ”

“Shelly,” Kit intervened. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but even though Catherine is your own flesh and blood, it’s still illegal to juggle the books.”

“How could you do this to me!” Catherine burst out. “How could you use poor Carla that way! She said you were going to set up a business with her.”

Shelly shrugged. “Who says I wasn’t going to?”

“What kind of business? Dealing drugs?” Catherine had been sitting down, but at the look on Shelly’s face she jumped from her chair. Grabbing him by his blazer lapels, she shook him hard. “You stupid jerk! You were going to deal drugs, weren’t you! Using GardenAir to bring them in. Shelly, you make me sick.”

The smile left Shelly’s eyes. Kit rose from his chair and pulled Catherine away, led her back to her chair, his hands on her shoulders.

“He’s so cool,” Catherine said to Kit as if Shelly couldn’t hear her. “How can he be so damned cool?”

“Drink this,” Kit said, handing her a Scotch. He turned to Shelly. “Have you talked to Manuel?”

“Yeah, he called. What’d you do with the stuff? I need it.”

“You need it? Too bad. We got rid of it,” Kit said.

Now Shelly did not look amused in the slightest. The muscles in his jaw jumped. “You got rid of it,” he repeated in a monotone.

“Shelly, you’re not involved with a mob or something, are you?” Catherine asked quickly.

“No. Hell, no. I promise. Just for me and my friends. I wasn’t dealing at all. It was just an easy way for me to get it into the country.”

“That’s good to know,” Kit said. “Now we don’t have to worry that some thug will come gun you down on the street. Because it’s gone, Shelly. We threw it out.”

Shelly took a deep breath. “I’ve got a habit,” he said.

“You’ll have to lose it,” Kit said.

Now Catherine was torn again, between anger at her brother and that old protective love. Here he sat in her living room in his blazer, a golden man in his thirties, and she still could see within him, as if she were looking at a double exposure, the bold little boy who had run on the highest brick walls at Everly without any fear of falling, who had built dream castles in the air from blocks, who had run screaming through the hedges chasing make-believe Indians. Shelly had never wanted to be a businessman in a blazer. He should have been a sailor, an explorer, a stunt pilot. He didn’t belong here, in the city, where the best excitement he could find lay in a fickle white powder.

“Shelly,” Kit said, “I’m sure this won’t surprise you, but you’re fired. I’m sure you know Carla’s been fired, too. Catherine and I don’t intend to prosecute.”

“That’s right, Shelly,” Catherine said, feeling queer. “Just think, if you haven’t spent all the money you stole from us on drugs, you could start up that little business you were talking about with Carla.”

“I’m fired, the cocaine’s been dumped, and fuck you, right? Is that it?” Shelly finally looked angry.

“Shelly, don’t look at me that way. You aren’t the injured one.
I
am.”

“God, I hate you, Catherine,” Shelly said. “You are so stupid. You don’t have a clue about anything. Haven’t you ever, just once in your life, done anything wrong?”

“Yes, Shelly, as a matter of fact I have. As wrong as what you’ve done. Maybe it’s because of that that I’m letting you off so easily.”

“So easily!”

“Shelly, weren’t you listening to Kit? We could put you in jail. If we wanted to stick to the letter of the law, we could have kept the drugs and thrown that at you, too. Then you’d really be in trouble. But we’ve decided not to do that. We just want you out of the shop, out of our lives.”

“Fine. You’ve got it.” Shelly rose and stalked across the living room toward the door.

At the door he turned. “Kit, are you sure? I mean, that you dumped it all? Because man, I could use a little right now.”

“It’s all gone, Shelly. Down the toilet. Where it belongs.”

Shelly smiled. “Oh, those lucky rats.”

Catherine waited until the front door closed. Then she said, “My God, what a good exit line. He’s still got my father’s charm. But Kit, what will he do now? How will he get any money? What—”

“Catherine, stop. Shelly is your brother, not your son. Your parents will take care of him. They always have.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Catherine said. “But oh, God, Kit, Shelly just breaks my heart.”

Chapter 12

New York, 1988

C
atherine had intended to go straight back to Blooms after confronting Shelly, but she discovered that she was oddly weak. Instead, she indulged in the rituals that usually refreshed her: a long perfumed bath, a lazy meal eaten in her robe, and phone calls to Andrew and Lily, who were happy and so busy with their own lives that they couldn’t stay long on the phone. Still she felt bone tired. She fell asleep at once, grateful for oblivion.

She was not surprised to be awakened by the ringing of the phone while the windows were still black with night. It was as if all along she had been expecting this call, and she thought: Shelly. Something has happened to Shelly, and the police are calling to tell me.

“Catherine?”

The old woman’s voice was so weak and whispery that for a moment Catherine couldn’t hear her grandmother speaking.

“Grandmother! Are you all right?”

“Come to Everly. I need to talk to you.”

“Grandmother, do you need a doctor? Is Clara there?”

“Don’t make me waste my breath. Tell me you will come here now.”

“I’ll dress and leave at once.”

Next to her, Kit struggled up from his own deep sleep. “Your grandmother?”

“She wants me there now. She sounded so far away—I think she’s dying, Kit. I’ve got to go.” She was already pushing back the covers.

“I’ll drive you.”

They dressed quickly, efficiently, without speaking. Catherine pulled on her most comfortable clothes, jeans and a sweater, perhaps not perfect for the occasion, but what clothes were perfect for the occasion of death? While Kit walked to the garage to get the car, she made a Thermos of strong coffee. Once they were on the road, she poured coffee for Kit, then took his advice and put the seat back and closed her eyes.

“Catherine? We’re here.” She awoke to see that day was dawning. The dark fall sky was streaked with gold.

Two strange cars were already in the drive: a navy blue Mercedes and a police car.

She raced from the car almost before Kit could bring it to a full stop and tore into the house. The front hall lights were blazing, and so were the lights up the winding staircase to her grandmother’s bedroom.

“Good. You got here in time,” Kathryn said.

The old woman was seated in her vast four-poster bed, propped up on pillows, a shawl over her shoulders, her fine white hair pulled back with a ribbon. Standing next to the bed was a man Catherine had met before, Kathryn’s doctor, George Holdgarten, and a young man in police uniform. Clara sat on a rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Grandmother, how are you?” Catherine sat carefully on the bed and bent over the wizened old lady. Kathryn’s fingers were as bony and her eyes as beady-bright as a chicken’s. But her breath was labored.

“I’m dying. Oh, don’t puddle up on me. It’s about time, and I’m ready. Reach under the bed.”

“What?”

“Catherine. Do you think I have the energy to say everything twice?”

Catherine knelt by the bed and raised the dust ruffle. After her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw what she at first thought were boxes but quickly realized were large books. Three of them. Old and magnificent. She pulled them out.

“Those are my botanicals,” Kathryn said.

Dr. Holdgarten bent to help Catherine lift the heaviest book from the floor.

“Dr. Robert Thornton.
Temple of Flora
. Extremely rare,” Kathryn said.

Catherine opened the cover of the huge book. Inside were colored engravings of plants and flowers against a background of landscapes.

“A copy of Basilius Besler’s
Hortus Eystettensis
. Seventeenth century. And a Redouté. These are yours, now. I’m giving them to you.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You should thank me. They’re worth a fortune. A fortune, Catherine.”

“Thank you.”

“Hello, Kathryn.” Kit entered the room.

“Hello, Kit. You brought Catherine out, I see. Clara will be down to fix you some breakfast in a few minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll wait for her in the library. I brought my briefcase,” Kit said to Catherine. “I’ll catch up on some work. Don’t worry about me.”

Catherine smiled, then turned back to Kathryn, who was already speaking again.

“Look, I’ve asked these kind gentlemen to come here, and I don’t want to keep them waiting. Clara.”

At her name, the old servant rose and crossed the room with a sheaf of papers and a pen in her hands. She handed them to Kathryn.

“I’ve made out my will seven or eight times. Always, I’ve written the same thing. I’m leaving Everly, and everything in it, to you. You sell those florilegia books and you’ll have enough money to do some restoration on Everly.” Kathryn paused for breath. “Now, doctor, officer, if you will be so good as to witness my signature—you do think I’m in sound mind, don’t you? Reasonably sane? Would you like me to give you the names of some state capitals or discuss current events?”

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Eliot,” Dr. Holdgarten said. He watched the old woman sign her name on the will, then he took the document and signed his own as witness. He passed it to the young policeman, who also signed.

“There. That’s done, thank heavens,” Kathryn said. “Thank you for coming, gentlemen.” They were dismissed.

Dr. Holdgarten touched Catherine’s arm. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. I’d like to speak with you.”

“Clara, would you please fix Dr. Holdgarten some coffee, and a nice full breakfast for Catherine’s husband?”

Soon, Catherine and her grandmother were alone. Catherine sat on the bed holding the older woman’s hand.

“Shelly gets the Jaguar. It hasn’t been out of the garage in decades, but it’s in beautiful shape. I hope that makes him happy. Ann gets the Audubons. They’re worth a lot. Be sure she’s aware of that. Your parents will get the family silver. The rest is yours. Your parents will be angry about this. Probably they’ll try to fight it, but my will should hold. It should hold.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“Don’t worry about Lily and Drew.” Kathryn was breathing hastily now, almost panting, in her hurry to say it all to Catherine. “Be patient. These things often skip generations. If your children don’t love flowers and Everly the way you do, you’re bound to have a grandchild who will.”

“Grandmother—how can I say thank you properly? I promise I’ll restore Everly.”

“I know you will. I would have if I’d sold my books, but I wanted them near me. And I didn’t want the mess of strangers in the house.” She closed her eyes and caught her breath. Just when Catherine thought the old lady had fallen asleep, she opened her eyes and glared at Catherine. “I’ve always loved you best.”

“I know. And it’s made all the difference.”

“You’re the one who inherited my love for flowers. From the beginning you took after my side. You think like me, and you look like your grandfather.”

“I look like Grandfather Eliot?”

“Certain traits are everlasting, you know. Genetic. Like flowers.”

“I wish I had known that when I was a child.”

“Why? To have something to lean on? It’s good that you’re so independent. You know that.”

Catherine opened her mouth to argue, but Kathryn closed her eyes and swallowed painfully, exhausted. She rested against the pillow, catching her breath. When she could speak again, she said, “Stay here. This won’t be a picnic for you, but you’re strong enough. It will be a big help for me.”