Laura Abbot (16 page)

He’d made a mess of everything. Katherine might be relieved, but what had they done to Laurel, and the Edens, who undoubtedly were decent people? He had known nothing of the history. What had he been thinking? For all he knew, Jo Sullivan might have been justified in disappearing.

Laurel’s silence, though understandable, was tearing him apart.

Shortly before two, he jumped as the email came through with the photographs. He pulled them up. Though blurred, they showed a bearded radical holding a megaphone. He was standing on the steps of a university administration building, surrounded by a cadre of supporters bearing anti-war posters. The caption read, “Student Rally Features Michael Mays.” Then, as if a spotlight had pinpointed the words, Jo Sullivan’s name emerged from those identified as members of the campus group.

Ben studied the grainy photograph, trying to find the hint of a resemblance to Laurel. The man’s beard and the co-ed’s bushy hair obscured their facial features. Who were these people? What was their story?

He headed out of the office toward Summer Haven. The sooner he put this assignment behind him, the better. Just thinking about it made him feel unclean.

An hour later, after Katherine had told him what she knew of her daughter’s disappearance, she sat on the deck, staring out over the lake, the clippings in her lap. “So this is…Noel?” she asked. “I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s the reason Jo left. She must’ve loved him very much.” She sighed. “I guess we’ll know when Laurel gets back.”

“Gets back?”

“What did you expect? She’s going to West Virginia.”

Ben hastily excused himself, raced to his car, then tore down the road as he tried Laurel’s cell phone. No answer. He knew what he needed to do. Knew it as clearly as he’d ever known anything. He couldn’t let Laurel face this heartbreaking ordeal alone. Not if he loved her. And he did.

He screeched to a stop in front of The Gift Horse and startled two customers as he brushed past them into the store. Ellen looked up from the counter, where she was gift wrapping a box. “Ben?”

He was in no mood for pleasantries. “Where is she?”

Ellen laid aside the scissors. “Gone. She left about twenty minutes ago.”

Placing both hands on the counter, he leaned closer. “You’ve got to tell me how to find her. She can’t do this alone.”

Ellen studied him. “I don’t know what the
this
is, but it must be important.”

“It is. Very.”

“I don’t know whether I’d be betraying a confidence.”

He certainly knew all about betrayal. He summoned his voice. “Please.”

She fiddled nervously with the grosgrain ribbon she’d picked up. Finally, she sighed and said, “Okay. I talked her into stopping overnight.” She turned her eyes to him. “The Hampton Inn in Norwalk, Ohio.”

He called “Thanks” over his shoulder as he ran from the store, then broke speed records getting to his Lake City apartment. There he threw a few clothes in a bag. Just as he turned to leave, the phone rang. He wanted to ignore it, but Caller ID indicated it was his mother.

He picked up. “Mom? What is it? I’m in a hurry.”

“Ben, you’ve got to come right over.”

“What now?”

“Mike. The police.” His mother’s voice wavered. “He and some other kids went to the beach this afternoon. They were brought in for underage drinking. And…pot.”

Like an awful cliché, Ben saw his life pass in front of him with all its obligations and limitations…and losses. “Where are they?”

“At the police station. I’m tied up with the little ones. Can you go get Mike? Please.” The last word was ragged.

Wonderful timing, kid.
Ben didn’t want to hear the whiny excuses, the you-don’t-understand’s. Didn’t want to deal with Mike’s rebellion or his bad judgment. Ben was sick of wearing the big red cape with the
S
on it.

Besides, he needed to get on the road. Katherine had been right on. Whether Laurel knew it or not, she needed him. He raked a hand through his hair. And—he couldn’t deny it—did he ever need her!

“Ben, are you there?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m here.” Then with blinding clarity he knew what he had to do. “You may not like what I’m going to say, Mom. We’ve had all kinds of trouble with Mike since Dad died, and each time we’ve bailed him out, made excuses for him. I’m through.”

“What are you saying?”

“That it’s time he takes responsibility for his actions and suffers the consequences of his decisions. Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be the end of the world if he spends a few hours cooling his heels in jail. Might give him a whole new perspective on life.”

“But—”

“When you called, I was on the way out the door. Laurel needs me, and right now she’s my priority.”

“What’ll I do?”

If the subject hadn’t been so serious, he might have laughed out loud when the answer came to him. “Call Brian. Let him deal with it.” Then he added, “And when I get back, I’d like to straighten some things out with the family. Bottom line, Mom, I love you all, but I haven’t been helping you, not the way I should have been.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes to convince Laurel she’s the most important thing in my life.”

“Oh, son…”

“Yeah, Mom, I love her. Now, I need to prove it to her.”

M
ILES OF
I
NTERSTATE
80 had rolled beneath her tires, and she couldn’t begin to say where she was. Numb, she tried to picture the cabin, the dogs, her parents—symbols of her security. And now? It was possible her entire life had been built on the lie that she had no grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no cousins. Then, as she passed a slow-moving semi, it dawned on her. Wow. Jay Kelley could be her first cousin. Nan, her aunt.

Her hands shook on the steering wheel, and even her small quota of adrenaline-driven energy deserted her. Spying a rest area, she exited and found a parking space. For a few minutes she simply sat, overcome with fatigue. Finally she roused herself, went inside, visited the rest room and bought a cup of coffee before getting on the road again.

Traffic picked up around Toledo. Not too much farther to Norwalk and the Hampton Inn. Ellen had been right. She was too tired, too emotionally drained to drive through the night, although she couldn’t imagine how she’d ever sleep. Going round and round in her brain was the question of how to approach her parents. What to say? How would they react?

With sudden insight, a thought struck her. Was that why her mother had never come to Belleporte? Had she been afraid of being recognized? Laurel felt sick. Such duplicity would be so unlike the mother she knew…or thought she knew.

The beginning of Katherine’s story thundered in her head. “Once upon a time, I was a well-intentioned, but ignorant woman…”
Once upon a time…
Perspiration broke out on Laurel’s brow. Her eyes filled in recognition.

As if her mother sat right there in the car with her, Laurel heard the echo of her voice. “Once upon a time, there was a magic castle by the sea.”

And she heard her toddler self urging, “Mommy, tell me ’bout the magic castle where the princess lives.”

Mother. Cuddling her close. Closing her eyes. Smiling. Her dulcet voice spinning the tale. “A big white castle, with windows like surprised eyes and two chimneys so tall they scraped the clouds. Every morning, first thing, the princess would leap out of bed, spread her arms in joy and run across the dewy grass, past the swings and the flagpole, to the warm, sandy beach and the blue, blue water…”

How could she have forgotten? How could that scrap of memory have eluded her for these many months? All along, she
had
known Summer Haven, but in myth, not reality.

Her mother’s myth. Her mother’s connection to a special place that, in her heart, she had never given up.

W
ITH AN EYE
on the rearview mirror for highway patrolmen, Ben kept his foot on the accelerator, stopping once for gas and coffee. Toledo passed in a blur just as the sun went down, its dying rays highlighting the flat countryside. He had no idea how Laurel would react when he arrived, but he couldn’t worry about that. No matter how she felt about him, she needed somebody who cared about her at her side. He remembered how awful he’d felt when his father died, but at least he’d been surrounded by his family. Laurel had no one.

As he approached the Norwalk exit, a welcome calm settled over him, accompanied by a strong sense of purpose. Parking near the entrance of the Hampton Inn, he noted the No Vacancy sign, then approached the desk. “Is a Laurel Eden registered?”

The pimply-faced clerk drew himself up. “I’m sorry, sir. We cannot give out that information.”

Of course not.
Ben glanced around the lobby, spotting a house phone. He crossed the room, picked up and dialed the operator. “Laurel Eden, please.”

Then he heard Laurel’s puzzled voice. “Ellen?”

He clutched the receiver in a death grip. “No. It’s Ben.”

“We have nothing to say to one another.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Please, Laurel. Listen to me. I made an awful mistake. I just hope I’m not too late.”

“Do we have to do this now? I’m tired. Maybe when I get back.”

He tried not to sound desperate. “I’m here, Laurel.”

“What do you mean, ‘here’?”

“In the motel.”

She was quiet for a long time. Then she sighed. “Room 232. But you need to know—I’m not happy about this.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

W
HEN
L
AUREL OPENED
the door of her room, she instinctively recoiled as if she thought he’d try to touch her. Ben winced and brushed past her, scanning the room with its obligatory desk and upholstered side chair, the floral prints adorning the otherwise bare walls. She gestured to the desk chair, then stood leaning against the credenza, arms folded. Finally she spoke. “Why are you here?”

“You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Oh, great. Now you’re playing Eagle Scout with me. What is it you
do,
Ben, when you’re not taking care of the world? And who appointed you my keeper anyway?”

He flinched, her accusation hitting the bull’s-eye, her bitter words revealing the extent of her hurt. “I guess I deserve that. Especially from you. I came to say I’m sorry. I blew it.”

She shot him a mock thumbs-up. “Uh, yeah. But I have to understand you had a higher loyalty, right?”

No hot-boxed witness could feel any more uncomfortable. “I was wrong. I’d like to explain.”

Laurel bowed, then gestured melodramatically about the room. “You’re here now. I doubt I’ll get rid of you until you have your say. After all—” her voice was icy “—you came all this way.” She crossed to the bed, where she perched cross-legged, leaning against the headboard. “I’m beat, Ben. Make it short.” She picked up a pillow and hugged it to her chest. The look on her face did not offer much hope.

Studying his clasped hands, Ben marshalled his thoughts for a closing argument. He looked up. “I’m not here to justify my actions. They were unpardonable. I’m here because I love you.” He detected a flicker in her eyes. “Maybe, in a strange sort of way, it took something as monumental as my mistake to realize exactly what I’d jeopardized.” He stopped, then struggled on. “I should have told you I love you a long time ago. I should have put you first, but I didn’t.”

Clutching the pillow, she avoided looking at him, but he noticed her chin tremble.

“I know that makes it difficult to trust me,” he went on. “I put the needs of a client ahead of yours. It doesn’t matter that I truly didn’t think anything would come of the investigation. I should never have agreed to handle it.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Do you have any idea how it felt to read that phone message?”

“Like a betrayal.”

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t set out to hurt you, Laurel.”

“That’s beside the point now, isn’t it? My life as I knew it has pretty well come apart, thanks to you.”

Her words roused him. “Has it? Are you sure something good isn’t about to come out of all this?”

She tossed the pillow to the foot of the bed, jumped up and paced back and forth in front of him, every now and then jabbing a finger in his direction. He let her words roll over him. “Something good? Let’s see. Let me tick off the benefits. For my entire life, I’ve apparently been living a lie. My parents aren’t who they claim to be, and they’ve cut me off from the rest of my family. I’ve grown up in blissful ignorance believing I was someone I’m not. Oh, and there’s more. All this time I had a grandmother, an aunt and a cousin who never bothered to confront the almighty Frank Sullivan. Tell me how much they could’ve cared.” She halted in front of him. “There. Are you satisfied?”

He couldn’t stand it. His eyes never leaving hers, he rose to his feet. “No. I’m not satisfied. And I won’t be until you’re whole.” He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She resisted at first, then, as if all the air had left her body, she collapsed against him. “I love you,” he whispered, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “Please don’t turn me away.”

He felt her muscles begin to relax. Then her shoulders convulsed and hot tears dampened his shirtfront. He buried his face in her hair and continued holding her. Still she said nothing. Her skin smelled of flowers and sunshine, her soft curls tickled his chin. He wanted the moment to go on indefinitely, because when it ended, she might send him away. Forever. One last time he needed to say it. “I love you.” His voice shook with emotion.

He heard her draw a deep breath. She tilted her head back and searched his eyes for what seemed a very long time. He wanted to pour out excuses, rationalizations, apologies. Instead, he waited, mute, for her judgment.

She stepped out of his embrace and reached for his hands. She looked small, defenseless. “We need to talk.”

That was all she said, but it was enough.

L
AUREL HAD TRIED
her best not to listen to Ben. Not to accept his explanations. Not to believe he loved her. She might have been able to hold out…except for one indisputable fact. Despite everything,
she
loved
him.

She sat him down in a chair and sat facing him at the foot of the bed. In a small, dark corner of her mind, she acknowledged that she had made him the scapegoat for her problems. “You felt obligated to Katherine?”

“That’s the reason I acted as I did, not an excuse. The Sullivans and Kelleys have been an important part of my life. Not just now. Always. And not just because of the help they’ve given me with the practice. I haven’t said much about this, but our home wasn’t a particularly happy place. I was a clueless little kid, wondering why my father wasn’t like other fathers. You know, easygoing, involved.”

When Ben paused, Laurel tried to picture the little boy, so hopeful, so needful of a father’s attention and love.

“Later, after therapy, Dad was better. He found a kind of peace with his new life. But for a while there, I dreaded being at home. That’s where Jay and his family came in.”

“They adopted you?”

“Something like that. Frank, for the most part, was a non-factor. But Katherine treated me like a grandson. Summer Haven was my refuge. Winters, when they were in Chicago, were tough times for me. I’ll never forget their kindness and hospitality.”

“So when Jay asked you to investigate—”

“I was in a bind. I knew whatever I decided, I’d be compromised.”

“But you did it anyway.” She was trying hard to understand, but his deceit still rankled.

“Honestly? Jay and I thought this whole business was wishful thinking on Katherine’s part. She liked you and wanted you to fill that void in her life.”

“Why couldn’t you have told me?”

“And upset you with no cause?”

Reluctantly Laurel conceded his point. “Well, I guess we can talk this to death. What’s done is done.”

He sat forward and seized her hand. “I never meant to hurt you.”

No, he probably hadn’t. And maybe his decision about the investigation wasn’t the biggest hurt. That was waiting for her tomorrow, when she got to West Virginia. “I know. But, Ben, I didn’t need protecting. I was smothered once by a man convinced he knew what was best for me. I won’t settle for that again.”

“You won’t have to.”

When he stood and pulled her to him, she had to admit she was glad he was here. She listened to the steady beat of his heart, inhaled the starchy fragrance of his shirt, let her hand rest on his chest. She was so very tired. Lulled by the soft sound of his breathing, she felt her eyelids droop.

“Laurel, I want to go with you tomorrow.”

Her first instinct was to refuse, but then she hesitated. He was trying to tell her something. Prove something. “Why?”

His eyes answered even before his words. “Because I love you.”

She thought about what he’d said. If she let him stay…if she let him come with her to face her parents…that was commitment. She didn’t doubt she could handle tomorrow’s confrontation by herself. Handle the rest of her life by herself, if she had to. But did she want to? “Ben, like I said before, I don’t need to be taken care of.”

He turned her face so he could gaze into her eyes. “Maybe not.” He wrapped her in his arms and covered her forehead with kisses. “But I do.”

“D
O YOUR PARENTS KNOW
you’re coming?” Ben asked as they pulled away from the motel the next morning after arranging with the management to leave Laurel’s car in the lot.

“No. I didn’t want to have to explain on the phone.”

“Tell me about them.” He already knew the basics, but he needed more.

Laurel pondered his question. “You’re wondering what kind of people would have found it necessary to turn their backs on a family like the Sullivans?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. But, then, my parents have always been somewhat unconventional.”

“How’s that?”

“They have strong convictions. I suppose some people would call them tree huggers. Ecology is big with them. They were heavily involved in protesting. In fact, I think my father in those days was like a union organizer, recruiting student protesters on university campuses.”

Ben wondered what her reaction would be to the kind of clippings he’d seen.

“They’ve never talked much about that time. They tease sometimes, calling themselves grownup hippie radicals.” She turned her head to study Ben. “Will that bother you? Your family can’t be very sympathetic with those who held anti-war views.”

It was an important question and deserved an honest answer. “You’re right. It was hard for men like my father—who believed in this country, in following orders, in honor—to differentiate between attacks against government policy and a lack of public support for the troops. The backlash was painful on many levels.” He thought back to the period after the war when, overcome with bitterness, his father had scarcely left the house. “For some vets like my father, it took years to make any peace with what happened on the home front.” He sighed, and Laurel laid a hand on his knee. “But it was a long time ago.”

“I always thought my parents were bigger-than-life,” Laurel said. “They could do anything—build a cabin, grow amazing fruits and vegetables, work with wood, weave fabric, teach me all kinds of things from music to science to politics. I grew up thinking everyone was like us. Then I went to college.”

Ben heard her voice fall. “What happened?”

“Peace, love, happiness—which I had always taken for granted—were regarded as empty watchwords of a long-gone social ideal. I remember a professor who even laughed at the notion. ‘Can you imagine a student movement that actually espoused those principles as a basis for everyday reality?’ I tried to argue with him. ‘What else are we supposed to do? If we don’t strive to live by our values and ideals, who are we?’ I asked. I’ll never forget the silence in the classroom. When I looked at my peers, I realized they hadn’t the foggiest idea what I was talking about. That was the moment I understood that all my life, I’d been marching to the proverbial different drummer. The same one who guided my parents.”

“Your professor was wrong.”

“I know that now, just as I know that we each have to find our own path. For me that meant accommodating my idealistic notions to the real world, but never forsaking them.”

He covered her hand with his. “For what it’s worth, I love you for those very reasons. You fill me with peace, love and happiness.”

By early afternoon, they wound through the West Virginia countryside. Laurel stared pensively out the window. It was a hot summer day, but the mountains, shaded by deep green trees and canopied by a brilliant blue sky, looked cool, inviting. He sensed her withdrawal the closer they came to her home. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking, feeling, now that her whole world had been rocked to the core. Resting his arm on the seat back, he let his fingers play with the hair at the nape of her neck. “Scared?”

“Petrified.” She swallowed, then gazed up at him. “I just want it over. Once and for all.”

“I’m with you, Laurel. Every step of the way.”

P
AT KNELT
in the garden plucking at the weeds. The dirt was warm, soothing to the touch. The earthy redolence and the scent of blooming flowers filled her with simple pleasure. Dylan lay on the front porch panting in the heat, but Fonda had darted off into the woods, no doubt chasing a trespassing squirrel or rabbit. Through the open door of his shop, she could see Noel hunched over two sawhorses, cutting some lengths of board. She sat back on her heels. Even now, after all these years, she enjoyed watching him when he didn’t know he was being observed. He did everything with the intensity of a perfectionist. Although she couldn’t hear him, his mouth was puckered in what she knew was a whistle.

He’d given up so much for her. Had he ever wished his life had been different? If so, she’d never know. Not once in thirty years had he ever suggested he had any regrets. She knew, though, that he worried about her—about her regrets. Early on, it had been difficult, but then she’d come to grips with the realities. Noel and Laurel were worth whatever sacrifice she’d had to make. Years had passed, and she had scarcely given her old life a thought.

Then came Laurel’s bombshell. Belleporte. Despite her best intentions, Pat had been unable in the past few months to keep memory—or fear—at bay.

She chastised herself. It was too beautiful an afternoon to dwell on her personal clouds. She gathered the pile of weeds and walked toward the shop, where she tossed them in the trash bin. Noel looked up, then laid his saw aside, that lazy grin creasing his face. “Hi, lady.” He winked.

“Cold glass of lemonade?” She crossed to him and slid her arm around his waist, then planted a kiss on his warm, tanned neck.

“Sounds perfect.”

She pulled his arm around her waist and together they set off for the house.

Dylan made a show of rousing himself. They stopped to pet him, but he suddenly stiffened, his head cocked. Then he tore off down the steps, barking excitedly.

“What’s that about?” Pat asked.

“Listen.” Noel cupped his ear. “Hear it? Someone’s coming.”

Pat’s smile faded. Few of their friends or neighbors were in the habit of dropping by in the middle of the afternoon and the mail had already come. A sudden cool wisp of air passed across the back of her neck, setting up gooseflesh.

“Know anybody who drives a Honda?”