Woman in Black (61 page)

With a sigh, she turned her attention to her computer screen. The most recent e-mail from Vaughn was dated two days ago:
I'll be in town a week from Wednesday. Any chance of seeing you? V
. She hadn't responded to it yet. She didn't know what to tell him. Part of her wanted to throw all caution aside and spend his entire visit holed up in his hotel room. Only the thought of how depressed she would feel afterward kept her from leaping at the chance. She didn't need that in her life right now, not while she was still recovering from the events of the past year—primarily the trial of Phoebe's former teacher.

Predictably, he had denied the charges against him, publicly (and loudly) proclaiming his innocence. What had come as a shock was that the majority of Phoebe's classmates had taken his side. It was only in the courtroom that Mr. Guarneri's sheep's guise had begun to fray. A recent graduate had come forward to testify that he'd made advances to her, too, when she'd been his student. Phoebe's emotional and heart-wrenching testimony had been the final nail in the coffin. By the end of the second day, the tide had turned against Mr. Guarneri, and even his loyal band of supporters had deserted him. The only one at his side when the verdict had been read had been his wife. It had come as no surprise to anyone, except maybe Mr. Guarneri himself, when he was found guilty.

Not that there was anything to cheer about. Phoebe was still fragile emotionally, and she struggled with depression and issues of low self-esteem. After being all but ostracized at her old school, she'd made the difficult decision to drop out and enroll in the nearby Pelham Academy, in Westchester, for the remainder of her senior year. It was an adjustment that had proven tough, but with graduation behind her now, she seemed happier and more relaxed than she had in a while. At the moment, she was home packing for the trip to France she was going on with her dad—Kent's graduation gift to her. Abigail knew she was going to miss her: This was only the dress rehearsal for the real farewell in the fall, when Phoebe went away to college. And what made it even more bittersweet was that it had come at a time when they were beginning to grow closer.

On impulse, she reached for the phone. “Hi, sweetie,” she said when Phoebe answered. “Just calling to see if there's anything you need me to pick up for you on my way home.”

“Hmmm … let's see. Maybe a bottle of that shampoo?” She named a brand their local drugstore didn't always have in stock. “Other than that, I'm all set. By the way, Mom, you were right. I couldn't fit all that stuff in my suitcase. I had to take a lot of it out,” she added somewhat sheepishly.

That morning on her way to work, Abigail had poked her head into Phoebe's room and commented that she was packing enough for a trip around the world. “Well, I'm sure whatever you run out of, they'll have it in Paris. They don't call it the fashion capital for nothing,” she reminded her now.

“Can you just see me strutting around like a
Vogue
model? Dad would have a fit.” Phoebe giggled at the idea.

“Not to mention he'd have to take out a second mortgage.”

They gabbed for a minute or so longer before Phoebe, just as they were about to hang up, remembered to tell her, “Oh, I almost forgot. Lila phoned. She wants you to call her back.”

“Did she say what it was about?”

“No. It sounded important, though.”

Abigail was on her way home when she decided on impulse to stop in at the travel agency rather than call Lila. Lila was in her cubicle, on the phone with a client, when she walked in. She flashed Abigail a welcoming grin and motioned for her to have a seat, holding up her index and middle fingers to indicate that she wouldn't be more than two minutes.

“I'm not disturbing you, am I?” said Abigail after she'd hung up.

“Not at all.” Lila pulled off her headset and settled back in her chair. The days of watching her go about her household tasks, dressed in drab clothing that did her figure no favors, seemed like another era. The woman seated before her now, wearing a midlength raw-silk skirt and whisper-thin cashmere tank accented by a chunky turquoise necklace, looked every inch the professional. “That was Mrs. Hendricks. Remember her? Little old lady lives up on Ridge Road? Well, last May I booked her on a Scandinavian cruise, and that's where she met the man she says is the love of her life. She just called to tell me they're engaged. Isn't that cute? They're both in their eighties. Proof that it's never too late, I guess.”

“For some, maybe,” Abigail commented dryly. “I'm sure I'll be spending my golden years with just my scrapbooks and memories to keep me company.”

“If you're looking to meet someone, I could always book you on a cruise,” Lila suggested teasingly, her eyes twinkling. “Of course, the median age of the men is sixty plus.”

“No, thanks. I'm not that desperate.” Abigail tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard with Lila smiling at her. “Speaking of romance, how's it going with you and Karim?”

“It's going.” Lila was always low-key about it whenever Abigail asked, as though she didn't dare trust in happiness, knowing it could be snatched away at any moment. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping, she leaned in to confide, “He wants me to move in with him.”

“And?” Abigail raised a questioning brow.

“We've been looking at houses,” she said with guarded enthusiasm. “Karim wants something with a garden so he can exercise his green thumb.” After the sale of Rose Hill, Karim had found a dream job in the rare-books library of a small liberal arts college in nearby Harrington.

Nonetheless, something in Lila's demeanor made Abigail ask, “Are you sure you're ready for this?”

“Of course not,” Lila replied with an airy laugh. “I'll probably never be ready. But if I waited until I was sure, then I'd be as old as Mrs. Hendricks. Sometimes you just have to take a flier.”

“How does Neal feel about all this?”

“You mean my erstwhile son? Ever since he and Bettina moved in together, he barely notices I'm alive.” Surprisingly, Lila seemed okay about it. Though Neal was still the light of her life, he was no longer the center of it. “Between his job and his love life, he doesn't have time to worry about dear old Mom.” Neal had found work in the kitchen of a SoHo restaurant and taken to it like a duck to water. After just one year, he'd been promoted to line chef. He was starting classes at the Culinary Institute in the fall.

Abigail wondered if Lila felt it, too: that goose-stepped-on-my-grave feeling she got whenever the subject of their children came up. Lila had to be thinking the same thing she was: that it was a miracle Phoebe and Neal were even alive, much less prospering. “I'm happy for you. I really am.” She reached over to squeeze Lila's hand, her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears.

“What is it, Abby? Is something wrong?” Lila eyed her with concern.

“Yes, but it's a good thing. Or rather, it will be.” She told Lila then about her decision to step down as CEO, which had been a secret until now—the only person she'd taken into her confidence, for obvious reasons, had been Ellen Tsao. “It was time,” she said. “I realized that in order to have a life, I'd have to start making one. And I couldn't do that working eighty-hour weeks. So … here I am. Not exactly footloose and fancy-free, but at least I'm not keeping that insane schedule.”

Lila took it all in, wearing a thoughtful expression. “You know,” she said, “when Neal told me he was moving out, it kind of threw me into a panic. But it didn't take me long to realize that I liked living alone after all those years of looking after other people. So I guess while he was out finding himself, I was finding myself, too.” She gave a small, wry smile. “Actually, I'm going to miss all that in some ways. Especially the part where I get to stay up as late as I like reading in bed.”

“I can't remember the last book I read cover to cover. Maybe now I'll finally have the time. Who knows? I might even decide to go on a trip,” Abigail said, thinking back to what Ellen had suggested earlier.

“Funny you should mention it. Actually, that's why I called.” Lila gave her the sly look that meant she had something up her sleeve.

“Oh?”

“I heard from Vaughn today. He said he e-mailed you but hadn't heard back.”

Abigail wondered what any of this had to do with her going on a trip. “He wanted to know if we could get together when he's in town next week. The reason I haven't gotten back to him is because I wasn't sure if I could fit it into my schedule,” she lied.

“That
was
the plan. But now it looks like he's stuck in Reykjavik.”

Abigail felt unreasonably let down. Though it was stupid to feel this way, she told herself, when she hadn't even made up her mind whether or not to see him. “That's too bad. I'm sure you were looking forward to his visit.” She maintained a casual tone, as if it had had less to do with her than with Lila.

“Actually, it was more of a disappointment for Vaughn. And it had nothing to do with me,” Lila said, giving her a pointed look. “The one he was really looking forward to seeing was you.”

Abigail felt her heart take flight, then just as quickly plummet back down to earth. Illusions could be dangerous, she knew, so she'd best keep a level head. “In that case, I don't know why you're the one telling me. He could have told me himself,” she said somewhat irritably.

“Oh, he will. But he wants to do it face-to-face.”

“I don't understand.” Abigail frowned in confusion.

Lila pulled a slim blue envelope from the pile of papers on her desk: a round-trip ticket to Reykjavik in her name, Abigail saw upon closer examination. “What's this?” she demanded, though she could plainly see what it was.

“Vaughn had me book it for you,” Lila explained. “He thought it would be harder for you to say no this way.”

“No to what? Are you seriously suggesting I fly to
Reykjavik
, of all places? That's crazy,” Abigail protested, as if it were a trip to the moon. The truth was, she'd have gone to the moon and back to be with Vaughn, but where would that leave her? Worse off than when she started, that was for damn sure. “Why would I travel halfway around the world to see a man I don't hear from for weeks at a time, and when he does write, it's usually just a line or two here and there?” Lines she'd read over and over again until she knew them by heart.

“I'm not suggesting anything,” Lila replied, a smile playing at her lips. “It was all Vaughn's idea. So I should tell him you can't go? No problem. I'll just go ahead and cancel this.” She snatched the envelope from Abigail's hand and made as if to rip it in half.

Abigail quickly snatched it back. “At least give me a chance to think about it.”

Lila gave a knowing chuckle. In a sudden motion, she snapped forward in her spring-loaded Aeron chair, her face inches from Abigail's, to stage-whisper, “Ha! I'm on to you, Abby.”

Abigail threw up her hands. “Okay, I admit it. I'd love nothing more than to spend eight hours on a plane, then be jet-lagged for a whole weekend before I have to fly home. All for the fun of spending forty-eight hours with someone I won't see again for at least another three months.” The only times she could count on with Vaughn were when he had to fly home for his checkups.

“In other words, you're dying to go.”

“What difference would it make if I were?” Abigail replied testily. “Scratching that particular itch isn't going to help. It'll only make it worse.” If even meeting him for a drink could throw her into a tailspin for days afterward, what would she be like after a long weekend in the sack?

“I felt that way about Karim in the beginning,” Lila reminded her.

“It's different with you and Karim. You share the same zip code. Anyway, I just went through a divorce. The last thing I need is to have my life disrupted all over again. You know what your brother's like. Do you really see us shacking up together someday?”

“Not every relationship has to be conventional.” Lila leaned back in her chair and folded her hands under her chin. “Karim and I might share the same zip code, but we're from two very different cultures. And believe me, not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of that. The first time he stayed over? I walked in on him bowing to Mecca and thought he was looking for something he'd dropped. I even offered to help him find it.” She laughed and shook her head. “If I were to make a list of the adjustments we've had to make, it would all sound like stupid little stuff, but it adds up. I have to keep my eye on the bigger picture.”

“And what exactly is the bigger picture here?” Abigail asked with more than a touch of defiance.

“It's simple. You two love each other. And you know what they say: Love conquers all.”

Abigail grunted in derision. “That's a pretty simplistic view, if you ask me.” But it left her wondering.
Was
she missing something here? If so, the only place she had even a remote chance of finding it was in Reykjavik. “Suppose I were to use this ticket. What would I get out of it?”

“I can't answer that. I know what my brother's like, so I'm not fooling myself into thinking you, or anyone, can domesticate him,” Lila told her. “But it's a
life
you're looking for, Abby, not a husband. Don't confuse the two. I'm not even sure you'd know what to do with a husband right now.”

Abigail took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhalation. “You're right,” she said. “I
don't
need a husband. What I need right now is to stop obsessing about this. Maybe a long weekend with your brother will cure me of him once and for all.”
If it doesn't kill me first
.

Lila broke into a grin as Abigail tucked the ticket into her purse. “In that case, have a safe trip.”