The Heritage Paper (4 page)

Veronica’s family had bought up many of the hillside homes off Bear Ridge Road back when they were built in 1948. This included the L-shaped Usonian that Veronica and the children now lived in, which was wrapped around a garden terrace at the rear of her mother’s house. Uncle Phil and Aunt Val lived two houses down from them.

They maneuvered through winding hills until they arrived at the busy Bedford Drive, which was the “main drag” in town. Veronica flipped on her play-list of 1980s power ballads.

Maggie was not a fan—probably not angry enough. “Mom, can we put the news on about tomorrow’s election?”

Maggie had carried on her father’s passion for politics, and sounded eerily like him when she debated complex topics that should be beyond kids her age.

The election was contentious, to say the least. And at the heart of it was a potential conflict brewing in the Middle East. If war broke out, many experts predicted that it would last for over a decade, which caused Veronica to have horrible nightmares about her children coming in contact with roadside bombs ten years from now. So she was voting for Theodore Baer, who opposed US involvement.

Maggie had a different idea, and it had a lot to do with one of her strongest ideals. It always came down to loyalty with her.

“Israel is our friend, and you and Dad always told me it’s right to stand up for our friends. Dad wouldn’t vote for Theodore Baer if he was here.”

That was a low blow. “Well, he’s not,” Veronica responded tersely.

Jamie decided to chime in, “If I was in a war I’d shoot everybody!” He then performed a machine-gun sound as he sprayed bullets around the backseat from his imaginary gun.

God help us all,
Veronica thought with a shake of her head.

“If you have any thoughts of riding in Uncle Eddie’s police car, then you’ll be quiet. I’ll call him right now,” Veronica threatened. She picked up her phone and pretended to dial.

Jamie quieted, but Maggie moved on to her next point of angst. “I can’t believe you’re blowing off my presentation. Oma and I worked really hard on it.”

“Do you really think I’d rather meet Jamie’s principal than see your presentation?”

“If it was the other way around, I’m sure you’d reschedule it.”

“I had no choice. Your brother can’t participate in Career Day until I meet to discuss his punishment. So you can thank your brother and Mrs. Sweetney.”

“Whatever.”

Veronica knew appeasing Maggie’s surly attitude would set a bad precedent, but despite their many quarrels, she had a soft spot for her first-born. The fact that she brought up Carsten after not uttering his name in months, meant she was feeling very wounded. And Veronica wanted to reward her for the job she did on this project. Maggie would take the train to Chappaqua after school, a couple times a week to meet up with Ellen. They’d work until Veronica would pick her up after her night class at Pace, and she’d often have to drag Maggie home.

So she turned on the election news. The big story was centered on controversial comments made by Theodore Baer yesterday. With only one day to go, Baer was dropping like a rock in the polls. Seemed like Maggie might get her wish.

They pulled up to Underhill School, which was separated into two campuses—K-4 and the 5-8 middle school. The first drop-off was Maggie.

“I’ll try to make it back in time for your presentation, sweetie.”

“Whatever.”

Door slammed.

Maggie burst out of the car like it was on fire. She went straight for her one friend, fellow outcast TJ Chester.

As Veronica watched Maggie, a knock on her window startled her. It was TJ’s father, Zach. She rolled down the window and he handed her a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

“If you were up half the night finishing the Heritage Paper like us, then you’ll need this,” he said and flashed his perfect smile. His eyes matched his dark suit.

“Maggie wouldn’t let me near her project, which might have been a good thing,” she responded. “And thanks again for all the assistance TJ gave her with the video.”

He laughed. “Yeah, he spent more time on Maggie’s than his own—I think he has a crush on her. That’s why we were up half the night cutting and pasting the Chester family low-lights.”

Veronica glanced at Maggie in the distance, who sent back a disapproving look. She wasn’t sure if it was connected to her conspiring with her friend’s father, or because she might miss her presentation, or perhaps it was that she was twelve and her mother was her natural enemy. Probably a combination of the three.

“I’m sure TJ did a great job, he’s a smart boy.”

“We just left out the part about his mother being in jail. Sometimes I think family secrets are best left a secret for a reason.”

Veronica had heard the small town gossip about the good-looking journalist who moved to town without his imprisoned wife. But she never asked him about it. What was she supposed to say—
I’ll pick up TJ and Maggie, and by the way, why is your wife in the joint?
She knew the etiquette when it came to divorce or death … but jail?

“Are you coming?” Zach asked between sips of coffee.

“No, first I have to meet the principal over at the K-4.”

“The ex-lax thing?”

“Was it broadcast on the news?”

“Small town—everybody knows what color underwear everyone is wearing. I better go before they start gossiping about us,” he said with a smile and moved toward the school.

She watched as he headed off into a sea of pre-teens. “Thanks for the coffee,” she shouted, but he didn’t hear her.

One down, one to go. Veronica drove around the building to the K-4 area. She waved at Teri Burkhardt and her perfect daughter Haley, who didn’t poison other students. Jamie tried to make a run for it, to join Haley and the rest of his friends.

Veronica clicked the locks shut. “Don’t even think about it. You’re coming with me to meet with Mrs. Sweetney.”

“I don’t know why you’re calling her that, since she’s not more sweet than you, Mom.”

Yeah right.

Veronica walked into the principal’s office like she was the one in trouble. The perpetrator stood beside her, still looking adorable in his police uniform.

Helen, Principal Sweetney’s longtime secretary, ushered them into her office. Veronica hadn’t seen the stone-faced woman smile in years, yet Jamie was able to bring one to her face.

“She’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Helen informed them.

A “few minutes” turned into fifteen, and then twenty. Veronica kept looking at her watch, knowing every minute that went by meant she was closer to missing Maggie’s presentation, and heading for a week of dirty looks and “whatevers.”

Ten more minutes crawled by before a boxy blonde woman strutted in, wearing a purple blouse and gray slacks. As usual, she overdid the perfume, attempting to cover up the smell of cigarettes. She looked like Veronica, except lately she’d begun to look like two of her. This scared Veronica, since people had always commented on how much they resembled each other. It brought her back to the whole nature (slow metabolism) or nurture (binge eating since the divorce) debate.

“Sorry I’m late, I’ve been trying to clean up your mess. I guess the more things change the more things stay the same,” she greeted them without so much as a hello.

Veronica wanted to “go-Maggie” on her with a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes, but instead she just said, “Hello to you too, Mom.”

“Aren’t you going to say hello to me, Grammy?” Jamie perked up.

“First of all, in this room I am Principal Sweetney. And secondly, I have a lot to say to you, young man, but none of it is in the form of a pleasant salutation.”

Jamie tried his killer smile. The one he saved for times when he’d dug himself an especially deep hole. “I love how you know all the big words, Principal Sweetney.”

“That won’t work on me.”

He looked confused, rarely having to go to a backup plan.

Veronica took the comment as:
like it works with your mother, who by the way, can’t match up to me
.

“I just spent the last hour with the parents of the child you assaulted,” she went on, holding a stern gaze on Jamie.

“Don’t you think ‘assaulted’ is a little strong,” Veronica responded like an over-matched public defender, and was quickly dismissed. She felt like she was sixteen again. But on second thought, the sixteen-year-old Veronica wouldn’t have cowered like the Veronica of today.

Her mother lit a cigarette—prohibited on school grounds—moved to the cracked window and exhaled the smoke outside.

“The good news is that I was able to convince the injured parties not to sue the school. But the not-so-good-news for you, Jamie, is I promised that the school—and by school, I mean me—would take swift steps to punish the defendant. This will serve as the first step in ensuring that no further diabolical acts occur on school grounds.”

“Diabolical? It was a prank for goodness sake,” Veronica fought back. The fights during her teenage years were legendary, usually about choices in men, music and college majors.
Art history is slang for no money,
her mother would always say. It was impossible to win an argument with her—Veronica’s father finally gave up trying about five years ago. They got divorced, and he now lived with his girlfriend in Charleston.

“Let me define diabolical,” her mother responded calmly. “A premeditated act in which a student smuggled in a substance that he used to poison and embarrass another student. An act for which he still has shown no remorse.”

As much as Veronica hated to give an inch in these battles, she knew her mother was right. If Jamie continued to charm his way out of these incidents, what might they lead to?

Still facing the window, Principal Sweetney asked between drags, “So what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”

Veronica could tell that Jamie was not ready to surrender. “I think smoking is bad for you, Grammy, but you do it even though you know it’s wrong. Sometimes people do stuff they know is wrong because they just can’t help it.”

That was about as close as Jamie would get to throwing himself at the mercy of the court. He glimmered a smile.

Helen’s voice came over the intercom, sounding flustered—phone calls and messages were starting to pile up. Having Heritage and Career Day on the same morning made no sense, but Veronica kept quiet—even sixteen-year-old-Veronica would’ve realized she didn’t have much leverage at this point.

The judge informed Helen that she needed a minute, and then rendered her decision, “You will be suspended until after Thanksgiving break. We will meet again at that point to determine if you have realized your mistakes, and have acquired the proper remorse. Any time missed from school will be made up during the summer.”

Jamie looked sheepishly happy. Visions of jumping into leaf piles and Xbox marathons likely dancing in his head. Not to mention all the gadgets Veronica bought him out of guilt after Carsten died.

But the judge wiped the smile off his face. “I’ve arranged for you to spend your suspension with your Uncle Phil and Aunt Valerie. They have
a lot
of chores lined up for you.”

Jamie looked perplexed. “But they’re no fun.”

She pointed at him. “Exactly.”

Jamie turned accepting—he was retreating. But Veronica knew his mind was already plotting a way out.

“Now get to Career Day before I change my mind and add another week to your punishment,” Principal Sweetney belted out like a drill sergeant.

Jamie began to stroll toward the door, his shoulders slumped like somebody just stole his lunch box.

“And one other thing,” she barked, just as he reached the door.

He turned, looking hopeful.

“The police are supposed to help people. Not hurt them … or poison them.”

He played with the toy badge pinned to his chest as he digested the words, and then exited through the door, head down.

Veronica grabbed her purse and stood.

Her mother pointed her back down, “You and I aren’t done yet.”

“Can’t we do this later? I’m late for Maggie’s presentation.”

“Sometimes our children are better without us mothers hovering over them. And besides, we’ve put this off too long. I’m worried about them.”

“They’re kids—and they’ve had a tough year. Losing their father … a new house … a new school. I think they’re just blowing off some frustration.”

“It’s more than that.”

“I guess you know my kids better than me.”

“I know you think I didn’t like Carsten.”

“Carsten?” Veronica was caught off guard. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Where are you going with this?”

“It does matter. And you were right—I didn’t like him. I should have been thrilled that my daughter found this seemingly perfect guy who was so smart and charming. And anybody with half a brain could see he was totally in love with you.”

“But you never acted that way.”