The Nesting Dolls (22 page)

“What did she hope to accomplish?”

Zack shook his head. “Beats me. I don’t think Dee knew herself. She never makes a move without considering every possible ramification, but she threw herself into this. If she’d been herself, Dee would have realized that Nadine Perrault was not a disinterested party and she would have finessed the situation. Dee works in a tricky field. Insurance litigation is high stakes. She gets paid the big bucks because she never makes a false move.”

“But she’s blowing this,” I said.

“And she knows it,” Zack said. “Yesterday in the car, Delia told me she was afraid. I’ve known her thirty years, and this is the first time I’ve heard her say she was afraid of anything.”

I sat on the bed, so that Zack and I were at eye level. “Is she afraid of losing Jacob?”

“That, and everything else. Delia feels as if her life is unravelling. She thought when she signed the papers giving up her child, she’d closed the chapter.”

“And now the child appears as a grown woman, hands Delia a baby, and is raped and murdered.” I touched one of the lines that bracketed Zack’s mouth like parentheses. “I guess that sequence of events is enough to overwhelm anyone.”

Short of the Fezziwigs’ Christmas party, there was no more festive scene than the Lantern Inn’s dining room on that wet December morning. Instead of a fiddler striking up Sir Roger de Coverley, there was the silvery staccato of Vivaldi’s “Winter,” and the buffet didn’t appear to feature cold boiled beef and mince pie, but the atmosphere of the room was one of Dickensian hopefulness and good cheer.

Delia had found a table for two near the fireplace. She stood to motion me over when I came in. In her black leather-trimmed sweater, white turtleneck, fitted jeans, and black Fluevog lace-up boots, she looked successful, fashionable, and utterly miserable.

“If this table is too close to the fireplace for you, I can ask them to move us,” she said. Her face was pale and strained and her husky voice cracked into the odd little hiccup it made whenever she was on edge.

“It’s good to be warm,” I said.

“Thanks for coming. I know you’re angry.”

“I promised Zack I wouldn’t smash a grapefruit in your face.”

She flashed her three-point cat smile. “That’s a start.”

The server poured us coffee and asked if we needed menus. When we said we were going with the buffet, she nodded gravely and told us we’d made a very wise choice.

“First wise choice I’ve made since I got here,” Delia said.

During breakfast Delia and I made a deliberate attempt to keep the conversation light. She and Noah had talked, so the story of Jacob and Pantera gave us one safe topic. The skating rink Zack and I were putting in at the lake gave us another. Delia was intrigued, and she had enough questions about exactly how a skating rink came into being to get us smoothly through to our second cup of coffee.

As the server cleared our plates, Delia held out her coffee cup in a mock toast. “Well, we made it. No grapefruit smashing. Not even a raised voice. So I’m going to push my luck and ask you whether Nadine won you over when you went back to her cabin.”

“I like her very much,” I said carefully.

“So you’re on her side.”

“No,” I said. “I’m on your side, but I’m hoping you can extend an olive branch to Nadine.”

“She doesn’t want an olive branch,” Delia said. “She wants the whole tree – full custody, and she’s not going to get it. I’m prepared to offer Nadine access. She can visit Jacob in Regina when she has time off from teaching. She can even come out to the lake with us for a couple of weeks every summer. But Jacob will never be left alone with her.”

“You think Nadine poses a threat to Jacob?” I said. “Where did that come from?”

“Abby’s will,” Delia said flatly. “Joanne, most wills have a subtext. A father bequeaths equal parts of his estate to each of his three sons, but he leaves the watch that has been passed down through the family to his youngest son. There’s a message there.”

“The youngest son is the father’s favourite,” I said.

Delia nodded. “In her revised will, Abby left Nadine Perrault money and property but she made certain that Jacob came to me. Clearly there’s something in Nadine’s background that makes it impossible for Jacob to be left in her care.”

“Abby and Nadine were inseparable from the time they were ten,” I said. “It’s difficult to believe there was anything of significance that they didn’t know about one another.”

“There’s no disputing the facts,” Delia said. “Three weeks ago. Abby changed her will. Something convinced her that Nadine would not be a fit parent, and that Jacob belonged with us. We may not be able to see the logic, but it’s there. Once we’ve figured out what caused Abby to leave the bulk of her estate to Nadine but grant custody of her son to us, we have our case.”

“And winning the case is all that matters?” I said.

Delia’s mouth twisted in an ironic half-smile. “We seem to be moving into dangerous territory. I’d better get the bill.” She caught the server’s eye and picked up her bag. “Is Zack up for our meeting with Nadine’s lawyer this morning? He sounded terrible when I talked to him, but he minimized it.”

“It’s his decision,” I said. “But I think he should stay in bed. The cold is worse. He has a fever and he’s coughing.”

Delia’s face pinched with worry. “Has he seen a doctor?”

“I think he’s better off just staying in bed until we go to the airport. Sitting in a waiting room filled with sick people doesn’t strike me as a great idea. I’ll call our family doctor as soon as we get back to Regina.”

“But Zack is going to be all right?” Delia said.

“He’s had his flu shot, and he’s strong as an ox. You know that.”

She looked at me hard. “No, I don’t know that. I’m sure you’ve read all the same articles about paraplegia that I’ve read. I’ve worried about Zack’s health from the moment I met him. He always says that when he became part of the Winners’ Circle he felt like a drunk discovering Jesus – reborn. But for me it was like finding a family, and Zack has always been the one I was closest to.”

“You’re very much alike.”

“Both damaged high achievers.”

“I’ve never thought of you as damaged.”

“I present well, and the law saved me – just as it saved Zack. Chris Altieri used to say that for Zack and me the law was redemptive.” Delia’s eyes welled. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “Sorry. Tell Zack I can talk to Nadine’s lawyer alone. And tell him please to take care of himself. I can’t handle another loss.”

Delia paid the bill, and we threaded our way through the laughter at the festively decorated tables. Anyone seeing us together, two middle-aged women, affluent and amiable, would have thought we didn’t have a care in the world.

When I got back to the room, Zack’s breakfast was on its tray uneaten, and he was lying down. I sat beside him on the bed and rubbed his shoulder. “Feeling lousy?” I said.

“Lousy would be an improvement,” he said.

“I told Delia you were going to stay in the room until we left for the airport. I’ll call Alwyn and let her know we’re confined to quarters for the day.”

“No reason for you to stay here,” Zack said. “I’m just going to sleep. You and Alwyn only have a few hours. You were planning to go to church together, weren’t you?”

“Yes, and then back to her house for tea.”

“Well, do that,” he said.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“Yep. But just in case, say a prayer for me.”

“I always pray for you.”

“Well, keep up the good work, and leave your cell on vibrate.”

It was the third Sunday in Advent and St. Mark’s was full. The recessional hymn was “Let There Be Light,” but the voices of a host of the faithful were unable to stave off the torrent that greeted us when we left the church. Alwyn squinted at the pewter sky. “What do you want to do?”

“Let me call and see how Zack’s doing, and then we can decide.”

Alwyn made a studious effort not to listen to my end of the conversation, but when I rang off, she looked at me inquiringly. “Well?”

“Zack says we should have fun.”

Alwyn opened her umbrella. “In that case, let’s get started.”

Zack’s mockery of Ye Olde Tyme Christmas aside, Port Hope knew how to be merry. The rain sharpened the scent of the evergreen boughs framing the storefronts, and the windows of the antique and specialty shops were tastefully seasonal. It was fun to be with Alwyn again, goofing and gossiping like the undergraduates we had once been.

Alwyn had just finished telling me about the donnybrook at St. Mark’s after the vestry painted the church’s two-hundred-year-old golden oak pews robin’s egg blue when Nadine Perrault called out to us from across the street.

She was coming down the steps of Our Lady of Mercy Church, and her faith had obviously been kicked into high gear, because when she spotted us she ran across the street without checking for oncoming traffic. A black
SUV
swerved, missing her by inches. Nadine was oblivious. She was wearing the jacket she’d worn the day before, but she hadn’t pulled the hood up, so her hair and face were rain-slicked. She was breathless but radiant.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “I’ve had wonderful news. I have to tell someone, and I know you’ve both been concerned about me.” Her laugh was carefree. “I’ve been concerned about me, too, but this morning after mass, everything changed. Father Quines told me that Abby didn’t leave because I failed her. He said she left because she wanted to spare me.”

The day before, when she had knelt on the riverbank, I’d been struck by Nadine’s self-control. Now, drenched by rain, she couldn’t contain her joy and relief. “It wasn’t my fault.” Repeating the comforting words, her voice was soft with wonder. “I was so certain I’d failed her again, but it wasn’t me at all.”

Nadine’s jacket was unzipped. The Celtic ring that had belonged to Abby was hanging from her neck on a chain so fine it was almost invisible. As she talked, her slender fingers found the ring. “I wasn’t planning to go to mass, but the woman from the florist called saying someone had sent me flowers, and I thought since I was in town I might as well go to Our Lady’s.” Her smile was transforming. “Father Quines was very careful not to violate Abby’s trust, but what he told me was enough.”

Nadine gazed at the skies happily. “Look, the rain’s easing off. It’s going to be a pretty day after all.” She was growing calm now. “You must think I’m insane. It’s just – these last weeks – even the weeks before she left, Abby was lost to me. I could see her, but when I tried to talk to her, she didn’t hear me. It was as if she was underwater. Now, it’s almost as if she’s with me again, and I can do what we’d planned to do all along.”

“What had you planned?” I asked.

“To raise Jacob with love – in the house where Abby grew up, by the river that brought her such happiness.” Nadine ran her fingers through her hair. “Thank you for listening. Now, I’d better pick up my flowers.”

As she walked down Walton Street, Nadine’s step was light. “So much for the Seal of the Confessional,” Alwyn said. “Still, I’m glad Father Quines realized that compassion trumps doctrine. Let’s go to my place, and dry off.”

We had our tea in the sunroom, so we could watch the birds visit the feeder. Alwyn’s Earl Grey was hot and strong and her fruitcake was studded with pecans, dates, and candied cherries and pineapple. “Every piece you eat brings a month of happiness in the new year,” she said.

“That’s only if you eat it in the week between Christmas and New Year,” I said, “but this cake doesn’t require justification. I wish Zack were here. He’s the only man I’ve ever met who truly likes Christmas cake.”

“Is that why you married him?”

“No.” I sipped my tea. “I married Zack because I knew if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. I wish you two had been able to spend more time together.”

“Next time,” Alwyn said. “Jo, what do you think is going to happen here?”

“Nothing good,” I said. “Zack said he hates family law because somebody decent always gets hurt. When I think about Nadine and the Wainbergs, I feel sick.”

“You think this is going to get ugly?”

“I know it is. Both sides are willing to risk everything to win Jacob, and that means the gloves are off. My husband and Delia are close and when it comes to his job, Zack has never been afraid to get blood on his hands.”

Alwyn shuddered. “When I think about how Hugh and Peggy protected that girl, it’s hard to believe all that love and all those good intentions could end up in such misery.”

“Why do you think they never told Abby that she was adopted?”

Alwyn sipped her tea. “My guess is that they simply wanted to believe she was their own flesh and blood. In retrospect, the charade they played out about how much she was like them is poignant. They were always talking about how they could see one another in her, but she bore no resemblance to either of them. Peggy and Hugh were both strawberry blondes, grey-eyed with high colour. Abby had that tangle of wiry black curls; her skin was pale, like Delia’s, and she had those same piercing blue eyes.”

“Abby’s father doesn’t appear to have made much of a genetic contribution.”

“Who is he?”

“No one knows.”

Alwyn shot me a sharp look. “Including Delia Wainberg?”

“Her story is that she was articling in Ottawa – working crazy hours – and she had a series of casual liaisons.”

“Is she the kind of woman to have casual sex?”

“No,” I said. “She isn’t. Delia’s one of the most disciplined people I’ve ever met.” A pair of black-capped chickadees landed on the bird feeder. “Even on a wet day, chickadees seem cheerful,” I said.

“You’d be cheerful too if you’d hidden seeds all over the backyard. My bird books tell me that chickadees can remember literally thousands of hiding places.” Alwyn peered out
the window as if to test her observation. “I can’t even remember where I left my glasses. May I warm your cup?”

“No, I should get going.”

“Take your husband some Christmas cake – remember what our grandmothers used to say, ‘Feed a cold; starve a fever.’ ”

“Zack has both, but he’ll appreciate the thought.”