The Rainy Season (28 page)

“I know it’s not, and I thank you for that. How will we find him?”

She asked this with such sudden hope in her voice that his own hopes plummeted, and he realized that the last thing he wanted to do was to find Mr. Colin O’Brian. “Well, unless he’s changed his name, it’s easier than you’d think, easier by far than it would have been a hundred years ago.” And with that he made an effort to explain computers to her, but he quit, finding it nearly as impossible as explaining faith or laughter. “If he’s changed his name,” he said at last, “then I honestly don’t know. We’re in for some digging, although I know a man who might help us, if he will.”

“Good,” she said. “Let’s ask the man for his help.”

“All right, we will, if we can find
him
.”

“Perhaps I could go outside today … ?”

“Sure. Why not?” He thought about the priest’s warning, but the priest wasn’t here right now. Heaven knew where he was. Phil wasn’t up to being a jailer, and there was no earthly reason to think that Jen would be at any risk once she was out of the area. “It must be a little frightening, though.”

“It’s a little bit wonderful, too, you know? Seeing everything new. As I said, it’s rather like being a child again.”

He could see from her smile that she meant it, and abruptly he wondered what he would show her first—certainly not make-believe mountains when there were authentic mountains closer by. Although putting Jen on a rollercoaster with Betsy
would
be a kick. …

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted him.

“I’ll just sleep another hour,” Jen said. “Thank you for not being a stranger.”

“My pleasure,” he said truthfully. “I’ll look in later.” He headed downstairs, carrying the breakfast tray. It wouldn’t be the priest at the door looking to pick up the bones. He wouldn’t be that lucky—or that unlucky, if what the priest wanted was Jen. And if he did, Phil thought, the priest could whistle for her. Jen was under his care right now, and she was in no condition to make any sudden changes, not until after he and Betsy had shown her a few things.

At the bottom of the stairs it occurred to him that of course it would probably be Elizabeth at the door, and he steeled himself for what he had to tell her. He set the tray down in the kitchen. The bell rang a second time. What he would tell her was that he just wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship. As for Elizabeth’s taking a tour of the house, as she had talked about yesterday, that was obviously out of the question.

As he approached the door he put a look of friendly but firm resolve on his face, the face he would make if he knew a vacuum-cleaner salesman stood outside. He hesitated for a second to gather his wits, and then opened the door wide. It was Mrs. Darwin who stood there on the porch, holding two plastic grocery bags in her hands and smiling at him as if this were the happiest surprise in the world.

“WELL,” MRS. DARWIN
said, stepping into the living room, “the mountain has come to Mohammed. You look like a man who’s had a sudden shock, Phil.” She laughed out loud.

He nodded dumbly at her.

“You didn’t expect to see me today, did you?” She walked past him into the room and settled into a chair, holding the bags on her lap. He followed her, but remained standing. “The first thing I want to do is to apologize,” she said.

He tried to gather his wits. “I … This
is
kind of a surprise. You don’t need to apologize, though. Good God, I hope you didn’t come all the way from Austin to apologize!”

“No, in fact I didn’t. But I apologize anyway,” she said. “Go ahead and sit down, Phil. Let me speak my piece.”

“Sure,” he said. She gestured at the chair opposite her, and he sat down, feeling suddenly as if he were confronting an old schoolteacher from his distant past, still terrified of her. He had thought he had gotten rid of Mrs. Darwin, and here she was, popping up again like a gopher in the garden.

“Maybe I’ve come at an inconvenient time,” she said.

“Not at all.” He smiled at her, reminding himself that it was cheap as sand to be polite and friendly here. He had no real grudge against Mrs. Darwin, except that she had been a little bit tiresome in Austin. But hell,
he
had probably been a little bit tiresome in Austin.

“Well, where to start? I guess I was feeling pretty battered the other day in George Benner’s office, and I’m afraid I said some hasty things. And then I nearly accused Betsy of stealing that inkwell, and that was thoughtless of me, utterly thoughtless. I need to tell you that I found some other things missing when I looked around, including a hundred or so silver dollars, and I’m sure now that the painters took it. I called the painting contractor, and the man who had done the painting had already been fired for theft. Well, I felt contemptible for having pinned the blame on Betsy.”

“Well, how could you have known?” Phil asked. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Yes, that’s the worst part, though. I
didn’t
know. And yet I … I suspected Betsy despite that. If I can give you one piece of advice, Phil, I’ll just say this. Don’t
ever
accuse somebody of something unless you’re sure of yourself—especially not a child. They might never forgive you.”

“I don’t believe Betsy thinks you accused her, Mrs. Darwin.”

“I’ve told you to call me Hannah, Phil. We have too much in common not to be first-name friends.”

“All right, Hannah. Don’t worry about any of this. I wasn’t all that even-tempered at Mr. Benner’s, either. And basically the only thing I told Betsy about the inkwell is that you were missing it and you wondered if she’d seen it. I didn’t suggest any accusations.”

“Well, thank God for that.” She breathed a heavy sigh of relief now. “And she still hasn’t seen it … ?”

“No,” Phil told her.

“I thought that perhaps it was in among her things. I don’t mean to press the issue, Phil, but I was holding out just an ounce of hope. I guess we’ll pin it on the painters and let it go at that. And now that we’ve cleared the air, I’ll tell you that the most amazing thing happened to me the very morning after you and Betsy left Austin. My brother called. He lives out here in Costa Mesa. I hadn’t seen him in years. He and his wife Sarah are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary, and he wanted me to fly out for it. They’re taking the vows all over again. So here I am. I’m staying through Sunday.”

“Good for you.”

“You remember that you told me I could visit?”

“Absolutely.”

“Neither of us had any idea it would be so soon, and at first I was shy even about calling on you. But then I thought, to hell with being shy about it. This transition period is tough. It’s tough on us all. If we all act coy about things, it won’t be any easier. Here, I brought you a little something.” She opened one of the bags she’d brought in and took out a pie. “I have a theory that all men like an apple pie, so this is a peace offering.”

“It’s a safe theory,” Phil said, taking the pie from her.

“This one’s store-bought,” she said, “but it’s a good one. Eat it in good health, Phil.”

He could see the pie through the plastic window in the box. It was a hell of a good-looking pie—a nicely browned crisscrossed sugary crust, with the syrupy apples visible beneath, heaped into a deep-dish pie pan. It felt like it weighed five pounds. The smell of cinnamon and apples just about knocked him out, even though he was stuffed from breakfast, and he was reminded suddenly of his mother’s story of the man with the bear traps. Maybe it was time to put a few of his own away.

“Thanks, Hannah,” he said to her, bending over to give her a one-armed hug. “Betsy’s still asleep upstairs, but she’ll be happy to see you. She should be down pretty soon.”

He headed into the kitchen with the pie, thinking that Betsy might not be all that happy to see Mrs. Darwin again. She was too young, maybe, to realize that she had a duty to the woman. And it shouldn’t be too tough to fulfill that duty since by Sunday Mrs. Darwin would be gone again, back to Austin. She could hardly afford to make this a regular visit.

Mrs. Darwin was still beaming at him when he returned. “I have a small proposal,” she said to him.

“All right.”

“I’d like to take Betsy shopping.” She waited for him to respond, and he nodded at her, as if this wasn’t too much to ask. “She’s starting a new school, and so even though it’s spring, she needs school clothes. A girl’s sensitive about these things, Phil. There’s a California style, you know, and although I’m not in favor of children following fashion, I think she’d feel more comfortable going into a new school looking as if she belongs. Unless you’ve already taken her shopping … ?”

“No,” Phil said. “I guess we haven’t had time.” Mrs. Darwin was right of course, and the truth was that he simply hadn’t thought of taking Betsy shopping.

“When?”

“Well, I’ve got today free. I’m afraid that tomorrow I’ve promised to help Sarah with the preparations. We’re cooking for fifty people. You’re welcome to attend, if you’d like.”

“I guess I won’t,” Phil said. “I’ve got a lot going on right now, trying to put all this together.” He gestured toward the stairs, and Mrs. Darwin nodded thoughtfully.

“I envy you, Phil, but I know it can’t be easy. Anyway, it’s short notice, but I thought I’d surprise Betsy and get the job done today. We parted on uneasy terms, and a little shopping trip might patch things up.”

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” Phil said. And in fact there was no reason why not. If there was anybody that Betsy would be safe with, it would be Mrs. Darwin. She’d been safe with Mrs. Darwin all her life.

“Here’s my brother’s number out in Costa Mesa,” she said, handing him a slip of paper with two phone numbers written beneath the name Bob Hansen. “Now, what I thought we’d do is grab some lunch at that little drugstore downtown, on the circle. I ate breakfast there this morning.”

“Watson’s,” Phil said.

“That’s the place.”

“Their milk shakes are unbelievable,” Phil said.

“We’ll have a shake! What a wonderful idea. I thought we’d do that after we go shopping. Sarah tells me there’s a mall nearby.”

“Mainplace Mall is probably what she meant, up on Main Street. From Watson’s you go farther on up Chapman toward the west, about a mile or so. Then you take a left on Main. It’s another mile up on the right. You can’t miss it.”

“Splendid. I won’t get extravagant, just a few things to see her into her new life. And this one is on me, Phil. This is my idea, and I’m paying for the clothes.”

Mrs. Darwin looked up suddenly, her face full of joy. Phil turned around and saw that Betsy stood at the bottom of the stairs. She looked sleepy, and she was holding onto her Pooh animals. It took a moment for her to register Mrs. Darwin’s presence, but when she did, the look on her face was utterly neutral. Phil was uncomfortable with that. Later he would have to talk to her just a little bit about courtesy. Mrs. Darwin glanced at him and winked, though, as if she understood. She opened the remaining plastic bag and pulled out another stuffed animal.

“Tigger!” she said, holding it out to Betsy.

“Thanks,” Betsy mumbled. She stepped forward and took the gift.

Mrs. Darwin told her about her plans for the day, leaning heavily on the idea of the milk shake. “What do you think?” she asked finally.

Betsy glanced at Phil, who nodded his head. “Okay,” she said.

“Then run on upstairs and get dressed,” Mrs. Darwin told her. “And wear a pair of socks without holes—you might find yourself trying on shoes!”

It occurred to Phil then that he had the day clear. He was free to do as he pleased. “When will you be back?” he asked.

“Before dark,” she said. “I don’t want to have to find my way back up to Costa Mesa at night. Call it five?”

“Five’s fine.”

“Do you want me to check in once or twice?”

“I don’t see why,” Phil said. “I might run out for a while. I’ll leave the house unlocked, in case you get home before I do.” He had a solid seven hours, plenty of time to make good on his promise to Jen. They could head on out to one of the canyons and look for wild-flowers. Seeing open country again might make her feel less detached, get her ready for rollercoasters and freeways.

“I couldn’t leave Betsy alone in the house if you weren’t back … ?”

“No,” Phil said. “You’re welcome to come in, though. Make yourself at home.”

“Well, you’ve got my brother’s number. I promised I’d check in with Sarah later in the day, so if you want a report on our whereabouts, just call her and identify yourself. She’ll know who you are. If we tire out, and you’re not home, we might just run on up to Costa Mesa early, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Phil said.

“Good enough,” Mrs. Darwin said. “I’ll leave a message on your answering machine if I do. Oh, this is
so
wonderful, Phil. I can’t tell you. I couldn’t let things end on that sour note back in Austin. I wouldn’t mind another cup of coffee, by the way.”

“Sure,” Phil said, standing up. “Piece of pie?”

“It’s all yours,” she said. “Eat it in good health.”

BETSY PULLED HER
clothes on after setting Tigger and the others down on the bed. She had to make a decision about the inkwell, and now about the other thing too, which was still in her book bag. She had made up her mind not to leave either of them behind, no matter what, especially not now, with Elizabeth sneaking around outside the house every day and Mrs. Darwin showing up like this. She wished she could have told Phil about Elizabeth being out by the tower. …

She opened the window and went out, stepping over the railing and into the tree. She knew every handhold by now, and the straightest way up and down. It didn’t take a minute before she was at the hollow place, reaching in after the inkwell box. She took it out, holding it in her hand, wondering what it was about it that didn’t feel right. In a sudden panic, she opened it. The box was empty. She fought back tears, recollecting what she had done yesterday, how she had come back out through the attic window a long time after talking with Elizabeth and replaced the box in the hollow.

And then with a sudden certainty, she knew that Elizabeth had stolen it. Elizabeth had known that she had something hidden in the book bag. She had waited, seen Betsy hide the inkwell, and had taken it. She must have.