The driver put
the taxi in gear and began to turn it around in the driveway.
The woman took
hold of the suitcases and clumsily pulled them behind her, one of them nearly
flipping over as she headed down the sidewalk. She glanced around uncertainly
at the farmhouse, looking a little peeved, as though thinking that someone
should have come outside to greet her by now.
When she
approached the front door, Nick flipped the console switch to the hidden camera
mounted above it, which caught a much better view of the woman’s face.
“Well?” Nick
said to Elaine.
“Still not
sure it’s her. She has to take off those damn sunglasses so I can see her face.”
Now Elaine wished she’d gone upstairs and retrieved her own gun as well. She
didn’t like this—she didn’t like this one bit!
Nick looked
like he was tiring of the whole business, as if he thought it was silly to be
intimidated by some middle-aged woman with a couple of suitcases.
He flipped
open each lock on the front door, then cracked the door a couple of inches and
glanced outside, keeping the gun out of sight.
Elaine stayed
just behind Nick, peering around his shoulder.
The mysterious
woman they found standing before them on the doorstep was beautiful and even
more elegantly dressed than the black and white images on the screen had
depicted. Underneath her jacket, she wore a pair of soft grey trousers and
black loafers, with a silk blouse in muted pink. She seemed to be in her late
thirties, or maybe early forties, but of course with the sunglasses, it was
hard to tell. She had fair hair that was pulled into a graceful, soft bun in
back, with wavy strands neatly framing her face.
“Um, sorry to
have to ask you to do this,” Nick said, “but can you take off your sunglasses,
please? We have to be kind of careful living out here in the country...”
The woman
nodded, then reached up and pulled off the glasses.
Her pale blue eyes stood out in her longish,
angular face. She wore a lot of makeup. From her slightly shiny and waxy skin,
it was clear that she’d had quite a bit of cosmetic surgery. She also sported a
deep tan that looked natural.
But it was a
familiar face...
When Elaine
realized who the woman was, her knees buckled.
“Well?” Nick
muttered, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. When he saw her expression,
he did a double-take. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
Elaine’s
throat had gone so dry she could barely whisper the words.
“It’s—it’s
m-my mother!”
* * *
“Hi, please
come in,” Nick said, trying to act polite and casual. He had tentatively opened
the door and was smiling, but he moved like a robot.
Kathy Brogan
took only one step forward before coming to a stop, staring at Elaine, only now
noticing that her daughter was hiding behind the man who’d opened the door.
Elaine had
backed up to the stairway, one hand grasping the banister for support.
Kathy looked
almost as stunned as Elaine was. “I...I’m so sorry I told you that I was Sarah...but
I was afraid you wouldn’t even see me if I...”
She didn’t
finish—a tear ran down her face. “Oh my god, you’re so beautiful in the flesh,
honey! All grown up!”
Elaine found
this language revolting—this middle-aged woman was almost a stranger to her. A
thousand memories rushed through her mind all at once, with such intensity they
were only shattered bits and pieces, all swirling together. Kathy leaning over
her bed with the thermometer when she had the measles...holding her hand the
first time she had seen the beach, in Galveston...her mother’s surprised face
when she had run into the living room with a tooth in her hand and saying, “Mom,
it came out, it came out!”
All the
memories were from her early childhood, of course, because Kathy had walked out
of her life when she was only ten years old.
But then one
painful memory of her father flashed through her mind, his warm, reassuring
hand on her shoulder. “Your mom loves you, Lainie, and she’ll come back, don’t
you worry.”
Of course
Kathy never came back.
And Elaine
stopped believing that her mother loved her.
Elaine foggily
realized she was just standing there at the bottom of the steps, holding on to
the bannister for dear life, wide-eyed, with a look of utter shock on her face.
Over the years, she had gradually convinced herself that her mother was most
likely dead, and that she would never see the woman again.
Tony entered
the foyer, Ryan skipping along on his heels, blissfully unaware of the tense
situation.
The five-year
old stopped short when he saw Kathy.
“Who’s that?”
he said bluntly.
Nick opened
his mouth to respond, but shut it again, looking at Elaine. He clearly had no
idea what to say or do, and was leaving it up to her. The term “awkward” did
not begin to describe the atmosphere in the foyer.
Tony came to
the rescue, smiling warmly at Kathy. “Signora, I’m-a Tony,” he said, and
he reached out and shook her hand. “Maybe I get you a cappuccino or a latte? Or
a glass of red-a wine? You must-a be thirsty...”
“Oh, a
cappuccino would be wonderful,” Kathy gushed. She looked relieved to have
something ordinary to talk about. “Maybe a double? I’m so jet-lagged I can
hardly stand on my feet!”
“Let me take-a
your coat,” Tony said. She thanked him and took off the expensive-looking
garment. As she did this, Elaine noticed that not only her face but her hands
and arms were also deeply tanned.
“But who is—?”
Ryan began
Tony grabbed
Ryan’s hand. “You come help-a Tony make coffee, okay?” He quickly led the boy
back into the kitchen.
After another
brief moment of uncomfortable silence, Nick muttered, “Um, let me get those
bags,” and dashed out the door. This left Elaine and Kathy standing there
alone, but thankfully, only for a couple of seconds.
Nick came back
inside and set both of the suitcases next to the stairway, but off to one side.
Then, looking a little sheepish and brushing his long hair out of his face, he
thrust out his hand. “I’m Nick. Nick LaGrange.”
Kathy smiled
pleasantly, revealing a set of teeth that were as white as Giorgio Cattoretti’s.
“Hello, Nick. It’s a real pleasure to finally meet you.”
* * *
The three of
them moved into the kitchen. Elaine felt
dazed, as if this scene couldn’t be happening, as if she were watching herself
act on some television soap opera.
“Oh, what a charmin’
home you have!” Kathy said in her light Texas twang, entering the huge kitchen.
She glanced around at the rustic dining table and other antique furnishings. “So
full of character.” In the far corner, by the picture window, was a makeshift
playpen that Nick had constructed, where Amelia was now.
As soon as
Kathy saw the little girl, she rushed over and began cooing over Amelia, who
was already standing, clutching a teddy bear. The toddler glanced up in awe at
the tall woman.
Elaine’s first
impulse was to rush over and protect her baby daughter from the stranger who
had burst into their home, but after taking only one step forward, she stopped
herself.
Kathy turned
to Ryan, who was just standing there, watching. “And you’re just as handsome as
a movie star, Ryan!” She stepped over and gave him an unwelcome hug. The boy
frowned, looking at Elaine with that Who is she? question still on his
face, and damn tired of not having it answered.
“And I have
presents for both of you darlin’s!” Kathy opened her leather bag, which was
still over her shoulder, and produced two colorfully-wrapped packages.
“That was nice
of you,” Nick said. Ryan tore the wrapping paper off his present and Nick
helped Amelia unwrap hers, which turned out to be a magnetic dress-up doll set.
Ryan’s was a build-your-own-dinosaur kit.
“What do you
say, son?” Nick said.
“Thank you,”
Ryan said happily, and Kathy bent down and gave him another hug. He looked as
if he liked her touch this time, or at least pretended to like it.
Elaine stood
there for a second, then said, “Tony, why don’t you take the children upstairs?”
The words came out more crossly than she intended.
As soon as
Tony had picked up Amelia and the three had left the room, Nick pulled out a
chair for Kathy. “Please have a seat.”
Elaine glared
at him, but she pulled out a chair for herself on the other end of the large
table, as far from her mother as possible.
* * *
As soon as
they were seated, after a long, nervous-seeming pause, Kathy looked at Elaine
and said, “I’m sorry I just showed up like this, out of the blue, but I’m such
a coward. I’ve been wanting to reconnect with you for...well, forever, but I
just couldn’t ever work up the nerve. Every time I started to write you a
letter or call you on the phone, I always chickened out. But then I saw that article
about you a few months ago in that British newspaper, when I was in Paris...”
So that’s
how she found me, Elaine thought. A few days after the fiasco at the Charles de Gaulle Airport when Raj
was arrested, an unauthorized article had come out in a sleazy British tabloid.
Apparently some sneaky reporter had bribed one of the French cops, or perhaps
the medics or ambulance drivers, and had gotten Elaine’s and Luna’s names,
though Elaine’s was misspelled and there were lots of incorrect “facts” in the piece.
It included a photo of Elaine, on the stretcher, being loaded into the ambulance.
The caption said: FBI Agent Elaine Brogen was critically shot by French
diamond smuggling suspect in car park of Paris CDG Airport. Miraculously,
the Secret Service had managed to keep the incident out of the American media,
who chose not to cover it due to a lack of accurate information.
“I was so
worried,” Kathy said. “Sarah had told me that you were some kind of law
enforcement agent and now worked overseas. I was so upset when I saw that
article that I went to the hospital in Paris and made sure you were okay.”
Kathy waited
for Elaine to respond, but Elaine didn’t know what to say.
“Honey, if you
want me to get up and leave right now, I’ll go without another word, and you’ll
never hear from me again.”
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