Treasured Past (2 page)

I didn’t know how to answer him. So I stared back into his tired green eyes and tried not to notice the wrinkles that so deeply lined his face. It was a face aged by too much tanning and too much drinking, I imagined. Silver hair combed perfectly to tame what had once been a curly mass. The white shirt that he wore was so tight and held so much starch that his neck bulged above the neckline.

He tapped a single finger on the tabletop, and my eyes dropped quickly, taking in the stiff white cuffs that contrasted so much with his tanned skin. He wore two rings. On his right hand he wore a thick gold band that held a single large ruby. On the other, he wore the class ring from Harvard Law School, 1944.

He was waiting for my response, but I wouldn’t give him one. My ignoring his insult was the right approach, and I felt a small sense of triumph when he fidgeted nervously.

“In any case” — he cleared his throat — “my son needs a good divorce attorney, and so the case is yours.” He unfolded his bulk from the chair and drew toward the door. “I’ll go over the details with you next week. I want this handled as quickly and quietly as possible.”

My teeth were grinding as I watched him reach for the door.

“What exactly might get sticky about this case, Donald?” My voice sounded petulant. I could only image what kind of trouble Donald Junior could have gotten himself into.

Donald Gold turned back to face me, eyebrows pulled together as he stood tall. “His wife had an affair with another woman,” he stated flatly. Only his slightly raised eyebrow let me know that he was mocking me.

“Bastard.” I was still fuming when I came to a screeching halt near the end of my parents’ driveway. Cars were everywhere, parked along the horseshoe drive beyond the gates and flowing out to the street below. Without hesitating, I shifted gears and pulled into the driveway, whipping past the parked vehicles and reaching for the garage opener. There was always an extra space for me inside.

I sneaked a quick peek at myself in the rearview mirror and grimaced. Mascara had settled in creases beneath blue eyes, and a light sheen had settled on my brow. Pulling a tissue from the glove compartment, I wiped it over my face and didn’t bother with another inspection before stepping out of the car.

The kitchen door was slightly ajar and I sneaked in, finding myself in the middle of a circus of servers juggling trays of appetizers and drinks as they made their way in and out of the kitchen. My eyes searched for Maria’s familiar face but came up empty. It wasn’t a good sign if Maria wasn’t in there. She ruled the kitchen with an iron fist, and she didn’t like anyone, especially hired caterers, messing up her space.

Mindful of the servers around me, I waited until one of them looked like he was making an exit through the swinging doors to the dining room before I stepped up behind him, following him through the door.

I knew immediately why Maria was out here instead of in the kitchen. The sheer volume of people was so unexpected that I took a step back. What were my parents thinking? There had to be hundreds. And no doubt Maria was among them somewhere, making sure that everyone had plenty of food and drink.

“There you are, darling.” My mother linked an arm through mine as she kissed my cheek. “I think your father’s gone mad. Just look at this crowd.” She was shaking her head, but the smile on her face gave her away. She was never angry with my father.

“How many people are here?” I asked, stepping out of the line of fire of the kitchen door and pulling her with me.

She shrugged. “Too many.” She laughed as she hugged my arm closer. She was wearing a simple, off-white dress that fit her small frame snugly. Her blond hair had been cut shorter than I’d seen in a long time, a blunt cut several inches above her shoulder.

“You cut your hair.”

She turned to smile at me, blue eyes sparkling. “I thought it was about time.”

Mom had always had long hair, from as long ago as I could remember. More often than not she’d pulled it back and away from her face, but every now and then she’d let it go free.

“I’m getting too old for long hair.”

“Don’t say that, Mom. You’re not old.” But even as I denied it, I could see the growing lines on her face. I did a quick calculation. She was fifty-eight. Twenty years older than myself. But she was in remarkable shape. I envied her thick, blond hair and trim figure. Unfortunately, the only thing I’d inherited from my mother’s side was her blue eyes. The rest of my body came directly from my father’s genes. I blamed my dark brown wavy hair, wide nose, and stocky body all on my dad.

“Will Beth be joining us this evening?” In spite of the crowd around us, my mom was completely focused on me. I loved the skill she had of making everyone she laid eyes on feel special.

“She said that she’d meet me here. And she’s just a friend, Mom,” I groaned, and watched her laugh.

“I can always hope, dear,” she whispered, giving my arm another squeeze. My parents were hippies from long before I was born. Liberal to their very core, and I loved them for it. They were also ridiculously wealthy, another thing I hadn’t minded in my youth.

Maria approached us, eyes in a fury as she barely acknowledged me before turning to my mother. She was speaking so fast that I barely understood her, her accent more pronounced than ever. My mother’s attention shifted smoothly, focusing on calming Maria’s temper.

As I let my eyes scan the room, it took a few moments for me to notice all the pieces of furniture that just didn’t belong. Antique desks, tables, and cabinets were strewn throughout the dining and living rooms, sprinkled between various works of art. At least I assumed it was art, since I didn’t have the best eye for these things. But the antiques — the roll-top desk and mission chair — now those I recognized and knew. My heart rate picked up a notch.

“Mom! What is all this stuff?”

Placated, Maria kissed me on the cheek to welcome me properly before disappearing into the kitchen.

“I’m sure I told you, dear.”

“I probably wasn’t listening.”

She laughed. “It’s an auction. Your father’s had everyone he knows donate all kinds of art and collectibles that we’re going to auction off tonight. All of the money is going to the New England Animal Shelter.”

I couldn’t control the way my eyes jumped from one piece to another. “Mom, you know this is my weakness. I would have remembered if you’d said there would be antiques.”

“Don’t worry, Katie. You don’t have to bid on anything.”

I was aghast. “Are you crazy? Of course I want to bid. But I didn’t bring my checkbook.”

My mother was laughing at me now. “Your credit is good with us, honey. You can send a check tomorrow.” She gave me a little nudge. “Go on and take a look around. You haven’t got much time. I think they’re going to start bidding in about twenty minutes.”

She didn’t have to give me any more encouragement. The pressure of time enveloped me, and I felt anxiety rising. Not much time for an adequate appraisal. Without dawdling, I quickly stepped away and bypassed the mission rocker to approach the roll-top desk.

My first motion was to reach out and run a finger along the curved surface of the roll-top, tucking a finger into the small notch handle and lifting it open. It rolled smoothly, and I was instantly enamored. I had been collecting mahogany pieces for years, but was finding my taste running to oak these days. The gleaming oak beneath my fingertips spoke to me as I pulled open one drawer after another, checking for the smoothness of the pulls and fingering all the nooks and crannies.

My mind made up, I moved on. I spared only a glance at the school desk with the built-in inkwell. The collection of crockery didn’t hold my interest, and neither did the deco end tables.

The next piece grabbed my attention. It was a large oak barrister bookcase, not unlike the one that I had bid on and lost just a week before. I counted the five pocket shelves and reached out to lift one door, quickly satisfied when it glided open smoothly. If I had been excited over the desk, now I was ecstatic. After testing each door separately, I stepped back to admire the piece, barely believing my luck. It was at least as nice as the one I’d lost the other night. Maybe even nicer. Hell, it could be the
same
piece for all I knew.

“Look familiar?” The woman’s voice was nearly a whisper in my left ear. Startled, I turned abruptly. It took a moment before the image registered. I knew this woman. We’d never actually met, but I knew her.

Her face was just inches from mine, and I realized that we’d never been so close. Her face was rounder than I imagined, her eyes a startling shade of gray.

The hair that always seemed beyond control was smoothed back into a single knotted braid. She didn’t look as old as I’d thought, either, although there were a few creases around her eyes.

It took far too long for me to digest her words and the situation.

Finally I reacted. “Is this the same one?”

She seemed amused by my stammering as she nodded. “It certainly is.” Her words were like a sigh as she turned her eyes to the bookcase. “This one’s a little tough to part with,” she admitted.

“I can’t believe you’re letting it go. Especially to charity!” I remembered the way I’d driven up the bidding and felt a wave of guilt. “If I had known you were going to give it away I never would have bid so high on it,” I told her.

An ironic smile lighted her features. “I hadn’t known I was going to give it away at the time. But Jonathan can be quite persuasive.”

“He certainly can be,” I agreed without bothering to mention that Jonathan was my father.

“So are you going to bid on it tonight?” she asked.

“I have to! I can’t let it get away from me twice in one week!” I laughed, and was rewarded with a broad smile. She had always looked so serious when we were bidding against each other. I don’t believe I’d ever seen her smile. But then again, I imagined that I must look pretty fierce myself when in a serious bidding battle.

“What about you?” I asked. “Do you see anything here that you’re interested in?”

She wrinkled her nose and glanced around. When I saw her looking in the direction of the desk, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Please don’t say you’re interested in the desk. I wouldn’t want to bid against you tonight.”

Now she laughed. “No, no. I’m afraid it’s too pricey for me. Unless of course the bidding doesn’t go too high ...” It took me a moment to realize that she was teasing me, and I felt a smile on my lips. She was much more attractive and enjoyable than I’d imagined.

“Well, well. Two of my very favorite women.” My father curled his arms around our waists, and I felt myself begin to bristle. How in hell did he know this woman so well?

He bestowed his most winning smile on the woman beside me before dropping a kiss on my cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.” I gave him a quick hug and didn’t miss the way
she
raised both eyebrows as she mouthed the word
Dad.
I decided to ignore her.

“Sorry I’m so late. One of the partners kept me for a meeting that I couldn’t get out of,” I explained quickly.

“My daughter the lawyer,” he teased. One of his favorite pastimes was teasing me about how I’d sold out to the corporate world.

“Well, that explains it.” The unnamed woman found her voice.

I looked at her, unable to read the tone in her voice. “Explains what?”

“The suit.” She nodded back at me, and I glanced down, taking in the perfect navy suit and starched white shirt. I found myself feeling defensive.

“I’ve only seen you in jeans,” she explained.

My dad glanced quickly between us. “You two
do
know each other, don’t you?”

I smiled and she laughed. “Not really,” I began, while she tried to explain.

“We’ve bumped into each other at several auctions, actually. But we’ve never been introduced.”