Willow Pond (20 page)

Laura couldn’t stand anymore. With a sob she tossed a five dollar bill onto the table and bolted out the door, heading to the safety of home.

She went into her office looking for paper with which to make a shopping list, but ended up at her typewriter, writing much more than a list. It was a surprise to her, seeing her fingers fly. Since the kidnapping she’d had trouble getting started, but now the words poured out in a rush.

She began by describing the day she and Phillip met. She’d written more than five pages before she stopped and read her words. Should she turn it into an article and try to get it published? Probably not. She wasn’t sure she wanted to share such an intimate part of her life with strangers. Everything that had happened during the first few weeks of her relationship with Phillip found its way onto the page. It was almost eleven o’clock at night when she finished. She had never felt either as tired or as exhilarated.

By the end of the week she’d written over fifty pages. It was too long for an article, and she couldn’t think of what to do with it. Erich would know, but she couldn’t bear to call and hear his voice. It would only make her miss him more. She wandered from room to room trying to decide what to do. When she finally gave in and dialed the Herald Tribune’s number, her hand shook.

“Erich?”

The silence on the other end didn’t help. He finally spoke, his voice cool and impersonal. “Why are you calling me?”

“I need your advice on something I’ve written.”

“That’s why you’re calling?” He laughed, sounding incredulous. “Publish it or throw it in the garbage. I don’t care.”

“Erich—”

“I can’t talk now. I have to go over to City Hall. Mayor Walker is outlining his new plan to crack down on gangsters and bootleggers. Ironic, huh? Guess he knows your aunt pretty well, doesn’t he?”

She hung up without saying goodbye.

***

Two nights later her phone rang. “The police have a lead,” Phillip told her.

“What is it?” Laura asked, afraid to hope.

“Wilson just called. He said a little boy matching Todd’s description was seen in Miami with a red-haired woman. I have a friend who’ll fly us down there right away. I’ll pick you up in a couple of minutes. Just stay where you are … that is, if you want to come.”

“If I want to come? Of course I’m coming. Oh God, Phillip do you think it’s really him?”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Do you think we’ll need to stay overnight?”

“No idea. Pack a bag just in case.”

Laura, Phillip and Wilson flew through a rainstorm, their plane bobbing and tumbling with the turbulence. Laura was oblivious to the pounding rain on her window. She spent the entire flight praying and imagining how it would feel to have Todd in her arms again. At two in the morning they landed on a Miami airstrip and waited over an hour for a taxi.

A huge grin spread over the driver’s face when he got a look at Phillip and Laura climbing into his taxi. “Whoa. Wait until my wife hears about this.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ben Wilson said. “Take us to the Palm Breeze Tourist Court. And keep your eyes on the road, not the rearview mirror.”

The driver didn’t seem to mind the detective’s gruffness, nor was he offended at being called an idiot every time he snuck a look in his mirror. Laura was relieved when they pulled up in front of the tourist court fifteen minutes later. By the time they woke up the manager, Laura felt physically ill with apprehension.

The manager shuffled in, his wiry grey hair mussed from sleep. “Do you people have any idea what time it is?”

“Since when is managing a place like this a nine to five job?” Wilson demanded, then flashed his badge. “We’re here on police business.”

The manager sighed, sounding resigned. “Now what did he do?”

“Who?” Laura asked.

“My grandson.” He squinted at her, then glanced at Phillip. His eyes widened. “Say, aren’t you …?”

“Why the hell would we care about your grandson?” Wilson said. “We’re here about some people who are staying here: a red-haired woman and a little blond boy.”

“You’ve got the wrong place. There’s nobody here. Business is so bad I’d sell this place if I could. The only guests we had here last week were two old men and three nuns.”

“Not again,” Laura said and sagged against Phillip. She buried her face in his shoulder and tried to hold in the tears.

Wilson frowned. “We got a call from someone at the Palm Breeze Tourist Court who said two people fitting those descriptions were staying here. This is the Palm Breeze Tourist Court, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Wilson shoved a piece of paper into the manager’s face. He wanted to know who’d called it in to the NYP.D. The manager excused himself and returned a few moments later with a sleepy-looking boy in tow. The boy couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

“Tell them what you did, Sammy.” He shoved the boy forward. “Go ahead and tell them.”

“I was just fooling around. I thought it’d be a good joke.”

“Do you know what these people have been through?” Wilson asked, shoving his bristled mug into the boy’s face. “How would you like to spend some time in juvenile hall?” The kid bit his lip and Wilson turned toward Phillip. “Mr. Austin, you can press charges.”

Laura cried softly into her hands. Phillip took her arm and shook his head, looking disgusted. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to waste another minute in this place.”

Chapter Forty

Almost overnight the heat was replaced by cool, crisp air, welcoming the early hint of fall. Fall was Laura’s favorite time of year. For the next couple of weeks she managed to keep herself busy, taking a pottery class at a local community college. She decided in the spring she might take some literature courses.

Since that night when they’d double dated at The Pavilion Royale with Erich and Peter, she’d kept in touch with Dorothy and they’d had lunch together once. Dorothy was a tactful woman and never asked about Erich. Laura was grateful for that, though sometimes, in the back of her mind, she wondered if they ever heard from him. Did he miss her even a fraction of how much she missed him?

Walking became a way to keep sane. Laura walked all over the city, window shopping and picking up knick knacks for the apartment. One morning, as she came out of one cute little antique shop, she was forced to stop and grip the doorframe, overcome by a wave of dizziness. She sank onto the sidewalk, waiting for the spinning to stop, then hailed a cab back to the apartment.

She collapsed on her sofa when she arrived at the apartment, trying to figure out how she felt. A thought struck her and she got up to check the calendar, then felt another wave wash over her when she figured out what was going on. She headed back to the sofa and sat in shock for several minutes, then called the doctor’s office for an appointment. She had to make sure before she panicked.

On the morning of her appointment, Laura sat nervously in the waiting room, clutching her purse to her chest. She followed a nurse into an exam room, where Laura sank into daydreams while she waited.

“The doctor will see you now, Mrs. Austin.”

Laura’s head jerked up and she stared up at the nurse, momentarily forgetting where she was. In her mind she’d been on the beach with Todd, watching him play with his pail and shovel. He’d fill the pail with sand, dump it out and start all over again.

“Dr. Johnston is waiting,” the nurse said impatiently. “Exam room one.”

Laura flushed and got to her feet. She wrapped the thin hospital gown around her and followed the nurse. “I - I’m sorry. I was just …”

When the doctor had finished examining her, she sat up, fighting an odd sensation in her chest. She remembered so clearly the day this same doctor had told her she was pregnant with Todd.

“I hope you’ve been well, Laura.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you for writing to me about Todd,” she said. “Those little anecdotes made him come alive.”

She got dressed and waited in his office, pleating and re-pleating her skirt between her fingers. A few minutes later he joined her, his expression businesslike. She leaned forward, waiting for his answer.

“You’re six weeks pregnant, Laura. The baby is due on May fifteen next year.”

She leaned back in her chair with a whoosh of air, unsure of exactly how she felt. Pregnant? But …

“Are you all right, Laura?”

She nodded briefly, then smiled as realization raced through her. Yes, she was all right. She was pregnant. With Erich’s baby.

“I’ll write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and see you next month.” He tapped his pencil on his prescription pad, thinking. “Did you have any problems with the vitamins when you were carrying …”

“Todd,” Laura offered, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t be afraid to say his name. When I talk about him I feel closer to him. That’s why I loved the stories you wrote about him in your notes. Remember the one about you trying to give him a shot and him trying to pull his diaper up?”

“He’s an independent little guy.”

“Probably even more now that he’s entered the terrible twos. I try to imagine what he’s like these days, but it’s getting harder.”

Doctor Johnston stood up and nodded, all efficiency again. “Well, now you’re going to have another beautiful baby. Soon Todd will be home and you’ll be a whole family again. Mr. Austin is a lucky man.”

She said nothing. She couldn’t tell him Phillip wasn’t the father. A couple of minutes later she left the doctor’s office and stepped onto the sidewalk. A man smiled at her and she smiled back, thinking he reminded her of her father. As she walked, she went through an exercise she’d been using lately. One feature at a time, she assembled Todd’s likeness in her head, rebuilding his face so she wouldn’t forget. Even so, he slipped farther away each day. Her greatest fear was one day he’d become nothing more than a faded daguerreotype of a little boy who had died a long time before.

When she got home, Laura sat at her kitchen table, sipping a glass of water and staring sightlessly out her window. She needed time to get used to the idea of a new baby. She also had to figure out what she was going to do. She wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and share the news with Erich. He would be thrilled. This baby should bring them both so much joy.

But the situation was impossible. If she told him she was pregnant, he would come back to her in a heartbeat. That would fix nothing. Somehow she had to keep him from finding out.

She drew herself a bubble bath, hot enough that steam rose over the tub and fogged the mirror. She undressed and eased into the tub, squeezing in tight so she could be crowded by bubbles. At Willow Pond the tub was sunken and twice the size of this one. She missed the luxuriant space. Nevertheless, the lavender scented bubbles tickling her skin worked their magic and she relaxed a bit, letting the tensions of the day fade into the background. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and dreamed about the baby.

Would it be a boy? A boy who looked just like Erich? She smiled fondly, picturing Erich. He was so handsome. Then again, Todd hadn’t looked at all like his father. Maybe this baby wouldn’t either. What about a girl? Erich would love a daughter. A girl who looked like she did. Chuckling at the fantasy, she imagined boy and girl twins. In this apartment? They’d never fit.

Despite everything, Laura was happy about the baby. She just couldn’t tell anyone yet. There would be questions to answer eventually, but for now they could wait. Laura sighed, thinking of her aunt. Virginia wouldn’t be afraid to voice her opinion. She wouldn’t want Laura to raise a child on her own, which Laura thought was ironic. Despite Virginia’s lifestyle, she could be conventional when it came to certain things. This was one of them. It was almost unheard of for a single woman to have a child in 1930, then raise it on her own. The poor little thing would be marked a bastard. Laura didn’t want that, either.

It had to be Laura’s decision based on what she thought was best for herself and her children. Yes, she thought stubbornly, children. Todd would be home one day.

A few minutes after she got out of the tub, the phone rang. It was Phillip. He called almost every day now. As she wrapped a thick white towel around her hair, she couldn’t help thinking he had the worst timing in the world. At this precise moment, Phillip was the last person she wanted to talk to.

“You took so long to answer I thought you weren’t home,” he said, sounding hurt.

She bit her tongue before saying something she’d regret. She wished he would stop calling her. “I was just getting out of the tub,” she muttered.

“Really? In the afternoon? As I recall, you only take afternoon baths when you aren’t feeling well. Are you all right?” he asked. She didn’t say anything so he continued. “I’m not surprised you’re worn out after everything that happened in Miami. I wish I could have spared you that ordeal, Laura. I’m sorry.”

For once she knew he was being honest. “I don’t blame you for any of this, Phillip. Not anymore. When Todd was first kidnapped I did, but blame doesn’t solve anything.”

“Thank you, Laura. I appreciate you understanding. I’m waiting to hear from the private eye I hired. If he doesn’t bring in something soon I’ll fire him and hire someone else. Five months and only one false lead? Not a great record.”

“Doesn’t Detective Wilson have an appointment with Gabrielle Madigan’s doctor next week?” Laura asked.

“Yes,” Phillip said, sounding vaguely hopeful. “Maybe he’ll be able to tell us something after that.”

“We have to keep hoping.”

Chapter Forty-One

The clatter of milk bottles interrupted Maggie’s thoughts as she walked home from work. She watched the milkman climb back into his truck and chug down the street, then stop at another house and repeat the ritual.

The hours just after dawn were Maggie’s favorite time of day. Despite her exhaustion, she always made certain she noticed nature’s gifts: the sun rising over the horizon, the flowers in a neighbor’s garden. Sometimes she’d pick a few violets or black-eyed susans and bring them home to set in a vase.