Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series (16 page)

Chapter 39

Loretta held a spoonful of scrambled egg to Nicole’s
lips. “Come on, honey, you have to eat. Food helps you grow big and strong,”
she said, coaxing her to take a bite.

Nicole
wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Tastes yucky,” she said.

Loretta
took a small bit of the egg. She had to agree, it was rubbery and far too
salty. “Let me see if they’ve got anything else at the nurse’s station. Maybe
some vanilla pudding?”

Nicole
nodded and lay back on her pillows.

As
she made her way to the nurse’s station, Loretta kept looking back at the door
to her daughter’s room. She wanted to catch Nicole’s doctor on his morning
rounds.

She
was just heading back to the room with cartons of pudding and fruit cocktail
when Nicole’s doctor stepped off the elevator. “Ms. Nash,” he called. “I’m glad
you’re here. Nicole’s my first stop this morning.”

“How
is she?”

“Let
me look at her this morning, and then we can talk. I have some of the test
results back.”

“Is
she okay?”

“We’ll
get to all that,” he said as he walked into her room and greeted Nicole.

“How
are we today, Miss Nicole?” he asked. “Do you mind if I have a look at your
hands and feet today?”

Nicole
squirmed when he touched her.

“Am
I tickling?”

Nicole
nodded.

“Okay—I’ll
do my best not to,” he said as he carefully examined her feet.

He
listened to her heart, then examined the area around her eyes.

“Have
you been eating?” he asked, looking at her untouched breakfast tray. “Are you
hungry?”

Nicole
nodded. “Not that,” she said, pointing to her tray. “Ick.”

The
doctor smiled. “I’d have to agree with you.” He turned to Loretta. “I see your
mom’s got the good stuff from the nurse’s station for you. Will you eat that
for us?”

Nicole
nodded as Loretta opened the pudding, inserted the spoon, and handed it to her
daughter.

“You
work on that while your mother and I go outside to talk, okay? Can you finish
it for us?”

Nicole
nodded happily, digging into the pudding.

The
doctor swept his arm toward the door and followed Loretta into the corridor.
“Let’s go into this quiet room off of the reception area,” he said.

Loretta
swallowed the lump in her throat and followed him into the small room. When
they were seated, Loretta said, “You’re making me very nervous with all this.”
She gestured to the room. “Something must be seriously wrong with her.”

The
doctor nodded. “Nicole has a very rare kidney disease that we sometimes see in
children. It’s called nephrosis. That’s why her hands and feet are swelling and
she’s puffy around the eyes.”

Loretta
froze and turned terrified eyes to the doctor.

“The
disease is idiopathic, which means that we don’t know what’s caused it. It’s
more common in boys, but girls can get it, too. Her kidneys are letting a
protein known as albumin leak into her urine, and the albumin level in her
blood is low. Her blood cholesterol is also high. It generally strikes children
between the ages of two and six.”

“So
what do we do about it?” Loretta asked, forcing herself to calm down and listen
to what the doctor was saying.

“We’ll
treat her with a course of steroids called prednisone. Are you familiar with
it?”

Loretta
shook her head.

“It’s
a powerful and effective drug, but it can have very serious side effects. You
should see improvements right away, and we’ll monitor her with blood and urine
tests, and then start a gradual decrease of the drug. You’ll need to follow our
dosage instructions exactly. Can you do that?”

“Yes,
of course I can. Will this fix her condition? Will it ever come back?”

“It
might. We just don’t know.”

“If
this drug doesn’t work, or if it keeps coming back—then what?”

“There
are other drug therapies we can try. And eventually dialysis.”

Loretta
gasped. “Would she need to be on dialysis for the rest of her life?”

“I
wouldn’t worry about that. It’s very rare that a child needs dialysis. The
prednisone should work beautifully. We just have to wait and see.”

“And
if drugs and dialysis don’t work? Then what?” Loretta realized that her voice
was becoming shrill, but she couldn’t contain herself. “She can’t live a long
life on regular dialysis.”

“I
know this is extremely distressing, but we’re nowhere near that point.” He
waited for her breathing to return to normal. “If dialysis stops working for a
patient, they are a candidate for a kidney transplant.”

Loretta’s
hands flew to her face. “A transplant? Aren’t those touch and go? Isn’t it
really hard to get on the list?” she asked and her voice cracked.

“We’ve
been successfully doing kidney transplants for many years. There can be
complications, but we know how to manage them. And unlike other transplants,
the donor doesn’t have to be dead. A healthy person can live a normal life with
only one kidney. A relative might be a very good match.” He leaned toward her
and rested his hands over hers. “We’re a very long way from considering a transplant.
I don’t want you to worry about that.”

Loretta
forced herself to nod. “What about my other kids? Is it contagious?”

“Absolutely
not. Don’t worry about your other children getting this.” He allowed her to
absorb this bit of good news. “I reviewed her lab results this morning, and I
think she can go home. Give her the prednisone as directed. The nurse will go
over all of it with you. Send her back to school tomorrow. Return to your
normal routine as much as you can.”

“Then
what?”

“You’ll
need to bring her in for tests in about eight weeks. Or if she gets worse, of
course. Ms. Nash,” he said, looking her squarely in the eye. “I’m not going to
tell you this isn’t serious, but we’re going to treat her and I expect her to
be fine.”

Chapter 40

Maggie returned to her desk after her second meeting
with the head of the Transit Department.
That man can bore the paint off a
barn,
she thought as she slipped into her chair and pulled her lunch out of
her desk drawer. She’d taken him to task for being so slow in implementing the
changes approved by the committee.
Tonya is probably right—it’s time
to replace him.
She opened the foil packet containing celery and carrot
sticks and began to nibble. She hated firing people. Even if she eased him
gently into a cushy retirement, it would still be hard. She was scowling when
she reached over to answer her phone.

“Mayor
Martin? Gordon Mortimer here. I hope I’m not getting you at a bad time.”

“Not
at all. And, please, call me Maggie. How are you?”

“Fine,
thank you. I’ll get to the point. I’ve done considerable research on your
silver collection—consulted my colleagues in London. I trust you got most
of it secured in safes?”

“It’s
either in my attic or a bank safe deposit box.”

“I
was low on my estimate of the lot excluding the Martin-Guillaume Biennais. I
told you I thought it was worth at least five hundred thousand. I think we’re
realistically looking at six hundred to six fifty. The value of silver in such
excellent condition has soared in recent years. But the Martin-Guillaume
Biennais is the real pièce de résistance. There are several active collectors of
his work on the scene right now, with very little available for them to buy.
Two of his silver sauceboats recently went at auction for over one hundred
thousand dollars. You’ve got nine matching pieces in your tea set. And it’s in
pristine condition. My contacts in London think it would bring at least eight
hundred thousand dollars at auction.”

Maggie
choked on a piece of carrot. “Are you serious?” she sputtered.

“Indeed
I am. I’ll finish my appraisal report this afternoon and email it to you and
the insurer. I wanted to give you the good news myself and make sure you had
everything safely tucked away.”

“The
Martin-Guillaume Biennais is at the bank, thank goodness. A lot of it is still
in the attic.”

“I
wouldn’t leave it there for long. Get yourself a cabinet safe.”

“I
was planning to do that. I’ll order one this afternoon.”

“Yes,”
he answered, and she could detect a note of disapproval in his voice that she
hadn’t done so already.

“One
more thing before I let you go. How much is that chocolate pot worth?” Maggie
asked.

“Comparatively
speaking, it’s not terribly valuable. It’s a lovely piece, but shows a lot of
wear. They must have used it quite a bit in their daily lives. I’d say it would
bring twenty-five hundred on its best day.”

“Good.
I’d like to give that to the lady who helped me sort it all out.”

“That
would make a very nice thank you,” he replied. “Have you decided what you want
to do with the collection?”

“Anything
of great value—especially the Martin-Guillaume Biennais—I’ll sell.
I’ll keep some of the pieces, and I’d like to let my son and daughter pick out
a few items for themselves. Can you help me place the rest with an auction
house?”

“I
most certainly can. You can maximize what you get for them by carefully
choosing the auction. That’s one of the services I provide.”

“Good.
I’d have no idea.”

“When
will you be ready to sell them?”

“My
kids are both in California. I’m hosting an Easter carnival at Rosemont again
this year, and I’m hoping that they’ll both attend. I’ll have them look at the
silver then, and we can put what’s left up for auction after that.”

“If
I might suggest, madam, leave the Martin-Guillaume Biennais and the other
really valuable pieces at the bank and take your children to see them there. No
sense taking any chances.”

“You’re
right. Good idea.”

“I’ll
email you the appraisal. Please call me when you’re ready to proceed. And if
you have any questions in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Maggie
hung up the receiver, her earlier gloom obliterated. She looked at her meager
selection of string cheese and veggies and swept them into the trash. She
picked up her purse and coat and checked the time. She’d be able to retrieve
the chocolate pot from her attic before her conference call.

***

Maggie reached the door of Celebrations just as Judy
Young was turning the sign from Open to Closed. She saw Maggie hesitate on the
other side of the glass, opened the door, and said, “This never applies to our
busy mayor. I’ve got a few minutes before I need to get home. What do you
need?”

“I
actually stopped by to give you something. To thank you for all the help and
support you’ve given me since my first days in Westbury. Here,” she said,
sliding a silver bag sprouting mounds of white tissue paper across the counter
to her friend.

“Wait
a minute,” Judy said sharply. “Let me see that left hand of yours. What do we
have there?” She seized Maggie’s hand and pulled it toward one of the overhead
lights, and whistled softly. “Is this what I think it is?”

Maggie
nodded, and Judy swept her into a warm embrace. “I’m so happy for you,” she
said.

“Best
news I’ve had all week,” she added, then turned back to Maggie suddenly. “Who
knows? Can I tell people?”

“So
far, just Harriet at Burman’s …”

“Of
course,” Judy agreed.

“My
daughter and Tonya Holmes.” She watched as Judy clapped her hands in glee.
Nobody
relishes having the scoop on town news more than Judy Young,
she thought
wryly.

“When
will you get married and where? Were you stopping in to look at invitations?
Because if you were, I can stay late.”

“The
where is Rosemont, of course. We haven’t decided when yet. And we may just have
a small, family wedding.”

Judy
clucked her tongue. “You can’t do that. You’re the mayor, and everyone in town
adores John Allen. We all consider ourselves your family, and we’ll want to be
there.”

Maggie
held up her hands in protest. “John and I will discuss it. We’ve got plenty of
time, whatever we decide to do. And I’ll get my invitations at Celebrations.
But I didn’t come here for that. I came here to give you this,” she said,
gesturing to the package that Judy had abandoned on the counter when she spied
Maggie’s ring.

“I
love presents,” Judy said, spinning around. “I sell tons of them here in the
shop, but it’s pretty rare when someone brings one to me.” She began carefully
removing the wadded-up sheaves of tissue paper. “It’s heavy,” she observed as
she carefully removed the item from the bag.

“You
didn’t,” she squealed as the final piece of tissue fell to the floor. “It’s
that chocolate pot from your attic. I love it!” She looked at Maggie with
gleaming eyes. “But I can’t take this. It’s got to be far too valuable, and it
belongs to Rosemont, not to me.”

“It
doesn’t belong to Rosemont any longer. It’s yours. I’m thrilled to be able to
give you something that you really like.” She cast her eyes around the shop.
“And something that you can’t buy for yourself.”

Judy
paused, one hand on the object she admired so much. “It’s too much,” she began,
and Maggie put up a hand to silence her. “The appraiser said that it’s too worn
to carry any premium at auction. I’m probably giving you the least valuable
item in the lot.” She looked directly into Judy’s eyes. “It would mean the
world to me if you would accept it.”

Judy
pulled the item toward her and hugged it to her chest. “If you really mean it,
I’d be thrilled to accept it.”

“I
do,” Maggie said, beaming.

“About
that wedding,” Judy began.

Maggie
turned to the door. “That’s a discussion for another day. Come lock up after
me.”

***

Maggie settled into a wing chair by the fire after
supper that evening and checked the time on the mantel clock. Mike should be on
his way home from work, which was always a good time to talk to him. She had her
son’s undivided attention in the car.

“Hey,
Mama Mia,” he said brightly. “Or should I refer to you as Your Honor?”

“Mom
fits the bill,” Maggie replied. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Amy’s
getting over her morning sickness. Everything is so much better when she’s up
and at ’em.”

“Glad
to hear it. She was so dreadfully sick with the twins. And how are my adorable
granddaughters?”

“Fine.
Slogging through the daily grind of school, piano lessons, and sports. Life is
good. We’ll all be glad for a break in the routine over spring vacation,
though.”

“That’s
why I’m calling. If you do come out here, I’ll schedule the Easter carnival
during your visit. The girls will love it, and I think you’ll have a lot of
fun, too. Plus, I have something I want you to see.”

“What
would that be?”

“Did
Susan tell you about the silver we found in the attic?”

“Maybe.
Yeah, I guess so. You know how she rambles. I really wasn’t paying attention.”

Maggie
laughed. “You should have listened to this story.” She proceeded to summarize
her earlier conversation with the appraiser.

“I’m
speechless, Mom. It’s like something out of a novel. This kind of thing doesn’t
happen in real life.”

“It’s
happened to me. And I’m going to sell most of it. It’s far too valuable for me
to use, and I see no point in storing it and insuring it. That alone will cost
a pretty penny. I want you and Susan to come home during the week of the Easter
carnival and select a few items for yourselves and your kids so I can put the
rest up for auction.”

“Let
me talk with Amy tonight. Have you spoken to Susan?”

“Not
yet. She’s been hard to reach lately.”

“I
know. She’s in trial. I’m seeing her tomorrow for breakfast. Why don’t I talk
to her about it then?”

“Perfect.
Get me the dates you’ll be here, as soon as possible. I need to get started on
the carnival.”