Finders Keepers (12 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers
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“Jess, it was a hell of a night. Thank you.”
“I'm sorry about . . .”
“Don't be. I knew she wouldn't come. She did send a letter with a check that would have fed a third-world country. I tore the fucking thing to shreds. It was an exercise in futility. She won't even notice. I don't know if you want to know this or not but your parents are still living in Barcelona, Spain.”
“I don't want to know. I don't think about them. At least I try not to. Let's get an ice-cream cone and see who can lick it the fastest. For some reason I feel like a little kid tonight.”
“You're on. Want to race? Loser buys.”
Jessie kicked off her high heels and stuffed them into her pockets. Both girls dropped to a sprinting position the way they used to do when they were little. “Two blocks, make a right, then a left, and the ice-cream parlor is something you can't miss.”
Huffing and puffing, Jessie pulled up short. “That was a sucker bet. You don't have any money. My stockings are in shreds, and you're still wearing your cap and gown.”
“I owe you, okay? You never used to be that fast. I'm in love, Jess.”
“No kidding. There must be something in the air. I think I met my destiny today at the airport.”
“Let's go home and talk unless you want to go down to Bourbon Street to listen to some jazz.”
“Tomorrow night. I think we should pick up some good Creole food and just hang out. It's been a long day. I hope you changed the sheets on my bed.”
Sophie shrugged. Jessie laughed.
It was three in the morning when Sophie rolled the three empty wine bottles across the living-room floor. “We probably should call it a night,” she mumbled.
“Why?”
“Because, that's why. Are you sure you don't want me to run a check on the Kingsley family? It would be my pleasure. This will be a com . . . com-pre-hen-sive report. If you're even thinking about getting involved with the son, then we need to know everything there is to know. Even if you aren't going to get involved, it won't hurt to know what makes the family tick. I met this guy last year, and he can do
anything.
I really learned how to network these past two years. You said something earlier that's been tickling my brain.”
“Your brain is on overload, Sophie.”
“Be serious, Jessie. Remember when you told me Agnes Prentis died a month after her husband passed away?”
“Yes, it was sad. She was really a nice lady, and she worked for the senator for over twenty years. I went to the funeral with the senator. There was hardly anyone there. I felt so bad for her. I still have all those logs she gave me for reference.”
“That's what I'm talking about. I think you should pack them all up, even the ones you started, and mail them to my house in Atlanta. Don't ask me why because I don't know why. It's just a gut feeling. Each time you finish a log, send it to the house. Just mark Sophie's Books on the outside and the housekeeper will store them for me. Will you do it?”
“Are you into some kind of spy stuff? You're making me nervous, Sophie. They're just logs about what went on on a daily basis. Mostly they were Agnes's observations. That's what mine are.”
“Does anyone know you keep a log, Jessie?”
“I didn't tell anyone if that's what you mean. I keep a log for the office. It's more like a detailed appointment book. It's very succinct.”
“Then why do you keep a private one?”
“Because . . . because Agnes Prentis told me to keep one. It's a habit now more than anything. Are you suggesting something I'm not picking up on?”
“Washington is a shitty place, Jessie. All those lobbyists and power brokers. I've heard stories about how deals are cut and the way votes are bought and sold. Your guy has been in there a long time. There is no reason to believe he doesn't have a few skeletons. When the dark brown stuff hits the fan, it splatters everyone. In Washington innocent people get branded all the time. Angus Kingsley is a powerhouse and powerhouses get blown down from time to time, and it usually isn't their own doing either. There's always going to be fresh meat snapping at his heels. I don't want to see you caught up in something out of your control.”
Jessie felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck start to bristle. Sophie was always right, always on the money, and she had never been an alarmist. “Okay, I'll pack them up and send them off as soon as I get back. Go ahead and do the check. It can't hurt anything. It will be discreet, won't it?”
“Attagirl, Jess. Of course it will be discreet. Forewarned is forearmed. A girl has to be careful these days.”
“What about you, Sophie? Did you do a check on your guy?”
“Didn't have to. He's exactly who he says he is. Which is another way of saying he is a civil engineer with the firm that I'm going to intern with. Douglas, Doheny, and McGuire is one of the top firms in the country. They have forty-four engineers and fifty-three architects on their payroll. That doesn't count the office staff. Jack comes from a stable, normal family. I met him through a friend last year. Both his parents are schoolteachers. He has two brothers and two sisters. He's the third child. He worked his way through school waiting tables and making pizza deliveries. He has a mountain of student loans. His parents helped, too, but there are two sets of aging grandparents that have to be taken care of. He took me home to meet his parents in August. They're rowdy, boisterous, and very, very loving. Mr. Dawson holds Mrs. Dawson's hand, and he kisses her on the cheek all the time. The siblings adore each other, and they know what everyone else is doing. The family is very sharing. If one of them needs help, the others drop what they're doing and pitch in. They have an old dog named Mandy, who poops in the same spot every day. No one gets excited. Whoever sees it first cleans it up. The dog is old but a real love. His parents love me. They're a
real family,
Jess, the kind of family you and I hungered for but never got. I want to belong to them so bad I can taste it. Jack's dad told him not to let me get away. I told a lie, though, Jess. I told him I went to school on loans, too. I made up this whole new identity for myself. Actually, it's pretty pitiful that I would do such a thing. Now I regret doing it. I have to give it a lot of thought before I make a serious commitment. Jack is big on being up front and truthful. In a million years he would never understand my mother and the way it was. Never, ever. By the way, his name is Jack Dawson. My toes curl up every time I see him.”
“Why didn't he come to your graduation?”
“Because he's working in Memphis. He starts with the firm I'm going with on Monday. He'll be here sometime later this week. He's going to Costa Rica, too. You'll get to meet him. He didn't have the money for the trip. Do you know what his favorite saying is? Poverty builds character.”
Jessie cut to the chase. “So, tell me, how is he in bed?”
“In a word,
spectacular!”
Jessie rolled on the floor laughing as Sophie uncorked a fourth bottle of wine. “We're blitzed, you know.”
“So what! This is your day. Well, yesterday was your day. It's a new day now. How am I going to meet Tanner Kingsley? Did I tell you he has summer blue eyes? Remember those bluebells that used to grow by the playhouse? Same color. He's all golden bronze, and his hair is bleached. He has a cleft in his chin and one dimple. Only one. Isn't that strange?”
“You noticed all of that in five seconds! I'm impressed,” Sophie said dryly.
“It was longer than five seconds. I couldn't talk, so I stared.”
“Invite yourself for the holidays. Pull that lonely stunt and maybe the senator will feel sorry for you. We can rehearse tomorrow so you come off naturally.”
“I could never do that.”
“Like hell you can't. If you can stand up on a chair in an auditorium packed with people and hoot and holler you can do anything! We'll rehearse tomorrow. My mother got married again.”
“Really,” was all Jessie could think of to say.
“Some Polish count. He has a lot of z's in his name. The card and check were mailed in Argentina. Imagine that,” Sophie said bursting into tears.
“Shhh, don't cry, Sophie. Someday when you're least expecting it she'll show up and want to act like a real mother. You'll see. I think she's afraid to grow old, and having a beautiful, brilliant daughter like you makes her realize her life is empty. Even you must realize jealousy plays a big part in the way she acts. She's trying to fill her life with all the wrong things. Don't hate her. If anything, you should feel sorry for her. You have everything going for you, Sophie. Don't let her get to you. The chair wasn't really empty. I put my coat and purse on it. Nobody paid any attention to the damn thing until I stood up on it.”
“You're right. Especially the part about me being beautiful and brilliant. You have so much common sense it's downright scary. What do you think she'll do when I have my first child?”
“She'll get another face lift, a tummy tuck, and buy herself a twenty-year-old husband no one else wants. Then she'll start to think about your child and want to be part of his or her life. It will be up to you what you do at that point. Sophie, you can't start a relationship on a lie. That goes for marriage, too. If your guy doesn't understand, then he's not the one for you. If you need me for backup or verification, just call.”
Sophie nodded. “What about you, Jess? Do you still hate
them?”
“Sometimes I think I do. I don't like them. Sometimes I think I'm the only person in the world who doesn't love their parents. I'm not talking about you, Sophie. In your heart you love your mother. I don't. I wish I could understand my feelings, but I can't. They meant well I suppose. It's me. I don't
feel
anything for them. I don't even miss them. I rarely think of them. I haven't touched the trust fund at all. I doubt if I ever will. I'd rather borrow money from you and pay you back.”
“We're at a turning point in our lives right now. You know that, don't you, Jess?”
“I was thinking the same thing myself earlier today. How strange that both of us are on the same wavelength. It's kind of scary but exhilarating at the same time. We'll make it. Guess what. By the time you're back, I should have my degree. Do you mind if I sleep right here on the floor?”
“Nope. That's where I'm going to sleep. If I had a gold star, I'd paste it on your forehead, Jessie Roland.” Sophie tossed two pillows from the cluttered sofa in Jessie's direction. “Night, good friend. Thanks, Jessie, for everything.”
“My pleasure. Night, Sophie.”
7
Ashton Falls, Tennessee
August 1979
 
“Are you sure we have everything, Ben? I'm ready for this, but I'm not ready if you know what I mean. I said I wasn't going to cry and what am I doing? I'm bawling my head off, and we aren't even out of the driveway. What is going to happen to me when we have to drive away and leave John at Clemson?”
“We aren't losing John. He'll come home holidays and summers. In case you haven't noticed, our oldest son is all grown-up. He even has a girlfriend. All the other mothers will be crying, too, and the fathers will be just as choked up as me. We'll get through it. It's not like . . . before. We know John will come back. If you hold on to that, everything will be okay.”
Grace wiped at her eyes. “Next year Joseph will be going away, too. I wish . . . Oh, Ben, I wish so many things. She should be here with us. If things had worked out, Hannah would have graduated already. I pray every night, Ben, that when our daughter turns twenty-five she'll start to remember and search for us. I don't know why I've attached so much importance to the number twenty-five. Coming of age, that sort of thing, I guess. Ben, what if she went to Clemson and is back there for Alumni Day or something like that and we see her and not realize it's Hannah. What if that happens, Ben?”
“Stop doing this to yourself, Grace. This is John's day. Let's not spoil it for him. He's having his own separation anxieties today just the way we are. We have to make this work for him. The first Larson to go to college! I'm so damn proud I could bust!”
“Speaking of busting, look at your dad, then look at mine. Two cars and a truck to get one boy off to college. It's amazing.”
“It makes sense. John and I will go in the truck. All his gear and trunks go in the back. My parents and your parents go in one car, and you and Joe go in your car.”
“Here comes the first Larson to go to college. Mom's got the camera. Our boy is going to be just fine. We taught him right from wrong. He's a hard worker and knows the value of a dollar. He won't disappoint himself or our family. That's a given.”
Panic rivered through Grace. “Ben, what if he meets Hannah somewhere and doesn't know it's her. What if, Ben?”
“Grace, stop it! Don't ruin everything. If there is one thing we don't want, it's John feeling guilty about going off to school.”
Grace choked back a sob. She nodded. If there was one thing she didn't want to do it was ruin John's day. He'd worked too hard to have her blow up and spoil things. She forced a smile.
Ben heaved a sigh of relief as he stared at his wife. The years had taken a terrible toll on Grace. It seemed like her hair had turned gray overnight, and what he had thought of as temporary frown lines were now deep grooves etched into her forehead and around her eyes. He reached for her rough, worn hand. Grace clasped his tightly.
“Here he comes!” the elder Larson shouted. The family clapped their hands as John bowed low to the family applause.
“I have something to say,” the young man said seriously.
“Hear, hear!” Ben said.
“I just want to say thanks for everything all these years. I promise to call once a week. I'll say my prayers every night, and I'll brush after each meal. I'll give it everything I got so you won't be disappointed in me.” His voice choked up when he said, “I'm going to miss all of you. What I'm not going to miss is mowing the grass, raking the leaves, and shoveling snow. That's your job now, Joe,” he said, hugging his brother.
Grace took a step backward. He was so handsome, this son of hers. He was also a warm, caring, sensitive boy. The day he turned thirteen she'd gone to him and asked him if he wanted Hannah's room. He'd looked so shocked and when he finally found his voice he said the only thing that could possibly have made her feel better. “No way, Mom. I'd just have to move my stuff out when she comes back.” Hannah's room was still intact, but these days the door was open instead of closed.
He had her in his arms then. He whispered in her ear. “I think I know what you're thinking and feeling, Mom. It's okay. She's coming back. I just don't know when. It'll happen. You know I never lied to you. Not ever. I love you, Mom.”
Grace felt herself choke up. “Get in the truck,” she said as she hugged her son so tight he groaned.
As the miniparade made its way through the small town, the shopkeepers waved and shouted, “Good luck, John.” Grace basked in their good wishes for her son.
If only . . .
 
 
Washington, D.C.
December 1979
 
The lights on the small artificial Christmas tree began to twinkle the moment Jessie turned on the switch. She frowned. For some reason the tree seemed out of place today. Maybe it was the absence of presents. The staff had taken their gifts the previous day at the senator's insistence when they left for the holiday recess.
Her eyes filled as she wondered how she would fill her time until January 3, when Washington returned to work. She was so looking forward to Sophie's return next month.
“Jessie, you're crying. What's wrong?” The concern in the senator's voice allowed the tears to overflow.
“For a moment I was feeling melancholy. I was just thinking the tree looks . . . I don't know, out of place. You know, not real. Someday I'm going to have a real tree that smells. Is there anything you want me to do before you leave?” Jessie dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose.
“My dear, you run this office so efficiently I would be hard-pressed to find anything that needed to be done. I have plenty of time. I'm not leaving until later this evening. I feel at loose ends myself. Why don't you make a fresh pot of coffee, and the two of us can sit down and talk. We haven't done that in a long time. You're right about the tree. It's sorry-looking. Spindly, too. The truth is, it's downright tacky. Where did we get it?”
“It was in the closet. I assume Mrs. Prentis bought it at some point. I think I'll throw it away when I take it down after New Year's.”
“Good thinking, Jessie.”
“Do you have a real tree at the ranch?”
“Lord no. Alexis has one of those god-awful white things she decorates with blue balls and blue lights. The house always reminds me of a science-fiction movie at Christmastime. She likes to entertain during the holidays. Growing up, my parents always had real balsam, and my brothers and I would string popcorn and cranberries to hang on the tree. My mother saved all our school projects and hung them on the tree, too. On Christmas Eve my father would light these tiny candles, and we'd all sing carols. My mother played the piano. It was a wonderful time for all of us. I wanted the same kind of Christmas for Tanner, but Alexis wouldn't hear of it. She hates pine needles, and balsam makes her sneeze.” He sighed as he loosened his tie. “I think we should add some of this fine Kentucky bourbon to this fine coffee. What do you think, Jessie?”
“I think you should do whatever you want, Senator, as long as you don't get behind the wheel of a car. I don't like anything in my coffee, but I'll be glad to fix yours. Carrying all those presents on the plane is going to be rather awkward. I could have boxed them for you or sent them by UPS.”
The senator yanked at his tie, removing it altogether. “They aren't going to Texas.” He finger combed his bushy hair, his eyes on Jessie for her reaction.
“Oh.”
The senator leaned back into the softness of the leather sofa. “One of the things I like most about you is that you mind your own business. After six years, I know you know about Irene Marshall. Agnes knew, too. Hell, everyone in this damn town knows about my relationship with Irene. Alexis knows about it, too, but pretends she doesn't. Tanner looks the other way. My son is not judgmental. As a matter of fact, Tanner adores Irene. She knitted him a sweater when he was in high school. He still wears it, to Alexis's chagrin. It has holes in it, and one of the sleeves is unraveling, but he doesn't care.”
There didn't seem to be anything to say to the senator's confession, so Jessie sipped at her coffee, her eyes downcast.
“What are you going to do over the holidays, Jessie?”
“Study I guess. Perhaps I'll do some shopping. Watch television. Sleep late. Clean my apartment.”
“Are you saying you're going to be alone?”
“Yes. Sophie is still in Costa Rica. We always spent Christmas together. She flew home the last two years.”
The senator reached for the bourbon bottle. He splashed a goodly amount into his cup. “People shouldn't be alone on the holidays. Why is that, Jessie?”
“Christmas is a time of sharing. Parents expect their children to come home for Christmas. It's that one time of year when everyone seems to put problems aside as they try to recapture past childhood holidays. If you knew your wife was planning an old-fashioned Christmas like your mother made for you as a child, you wouldn't be able to wait to get home instead of dreading it.”
“Another time, another place, and that statement would be true. Unfortunately, today it isn't, my dear. How did you get to be so intuitive at such a young age?”
Jessie shrugged. “Sophie helped. I could have gone to Costa Rica. Even though she'll be home next month, Sophie offered to send me a ticket. I said no. I'll see her next month.”
More bourbon splashed into the empty coffee cup. “Come to Texas with me.”
Jessie's jaw dropped. “That would be too much of an imposition, Senator. I don't think your wife would appreciate an unannounced guest for two weeks.”
“It's my ranch, Jessie. That means the house is mine. It was left to me by my grandfather. I can invite whomever I want whenever I want. I would be honored to have you as my guest. I think you might like Tanner. He could teach you to ride. I wish that boy had a yen for politics, but he doesn't. He stands up to his mother. I admire that. She has a girl all picked out for him. She's not someone I would pick for a daughter-in-law. Tanner doesn't think so either. The girl's family is socially prominent and quite wealthy. Her family's wells are still producing whereas ours dried up years ago. It's all right, we made our fortunes, and they're intact. Our only problems now are water rights.” More bourbon found its way to the cup. “So, are you coming or not?”
“Senator, I'm not prepared. This is the last minute, you know.” It was working out just the way Sophie said it would, and she hadn't done a thing to promote the situation. Perhaps it was meant to be.
“Are you telling me you can't pull this off? Jessie Roland who can do the impossible. The same Jessie Roland who can fend off the ghouls with one look. The Jessie Roland who makes this office hum efficiently. That Jessie. How difficult is it to pack a bag and pull the plugs on appliances? I can drop you off and wait till you pack. Then we can deliver the gifts to Irene and head for the airport. Sometimes you need to do spontaneous things. This is spontaneous. Well?”
Did she really want to do this? Did she want to spend two weeks wandering around an empty apartment? Did she want to cry herself to sleep on Christmas Eve? The bottom line was did she
really
want to be alone? “All right, Senator. I accept your invitation. Will I need party clothes?”
“I expect so. Jeans, too.”
“I picked up your cleaning and laundry today, Senator. You might want to freshen up if you're going to be delivering presents. A fresh shirt makes all the difference. A cup of strong coffee with nothing in it will also help.”
The senator's head bobbed up and down. “I never spent one holiday with Irene in all the years I've known her. God knows I wanted to. Did you buy me a present, Jessie?”
“It's under the tree, Senator.”
“I bought one for you, too. It's in the bag with the family presents. Can I open mine now?”
Jessie smiled. Sometimes the senator was like a child. She handed him the small package.
The senator's shoulders started to shake when he held the small gift in his hand. “My mother gave me one of these when I was six years old. Alexis threw it out when we got married. She said it was junk. I didn't know she threw it out until it was too late. Wherever did you find this, Jessie?”
“In an antique store in Georgetown. It's not new.”
The senator turned the small globe upside down. A Christmas tree in a globe with snow. “Child, you couldn't have given me anything better than this. The fact that it's old is all the more reason for me to treasure it. For all I know it could be the one Alexis threw away.”
Jessie pretended not to see the older man's eyes fill with tears. “I'm glad you like it. I'll clean up here while you change your shirt.”
As Jessie tidied up the office her gaze kept going to the beribboned stack of presents on the senator's desk. She wondered what was in the exquisitely wrapped packages. Baubles, bangles, jewels? What would a man like the senator buy his paramour? What did she look like? Was she a long-legged beauty with a golden cascade of hair and a shape to die for? How did the presents on the desk stack up to what he bought his wife? What would a father like the senator buy his son Tanner? New riding boots? A horse? A new car? The thought of seeing the surprise on Tanner Kingsley's face when she walked through the door with his father set her body tingling. Would he remember seeing her at the airport?

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