Bayview Heights Trilogy (59 page)

Taylor broke the perusal by starting for the
door. When he reached for the handle, he stopped and turned back to
Philip. “You know, I feel sorry for you. If you love her half as
much as I do, it’ll kill you to watch her suffer through this.” He
looked Philip up and down. “I would never have asked her to choose
between you and me, never forced her to accept another loss.”

Again, Philip was speechless.

“I hope your heart’s strong enough to take
that.” Then Taylor left, closing the door softly behind him.

Philip trudged into the den and sat down at
his desk. He tried to busy himself with the
Herald
,
planning how he’d get back into the business slowly, but he kept
seeing Lacey’s face, hearing her sobs and recalling Taylor’s words,
I would never have asked her to choose
...

“Philip?” he heard from the doorway.

Celia. Good, she’d clarify things for him,
make the situation better. She’d done a lot of that lately.

His housekeeper walked into the room. “Are
you all right?”

“It’s been a tough week.”

Sitting down across from him, she got right
to the point. “The party Saturday for Taylor must have been hard
for you.”

Philip’s fist clenched. He’d heard about the
party the school had given for that bastard. It strengthened his
resolve. “Not as hard as you might guess.” Succinctly, Philip told
Celia what had transpired that weekend.

Instead of being happy for him, Celia shook
her head, her soft features transformed into a frown. “I was hoping
you wouldn’t go this far, Philip.”

“What do you mean?”

“How can you put your own needs above your
granddaughter’s happiness?”

“I’m doing what’s best for Lacey. I always
have.”

“Not this time.” Celia straightened and held
his gaze unblinkingly. “I’ve always admired you for coming back to
Bayview to raise those kids when you were on your way to a Pulitzer
Prize. After my Ken died, I think I was even a little in love with
you. But not anymore.” She stood and shrugged into the coat she
carried. “I can’t work for you any longer, Philip. I can’t be a
party to this selfish, unnecessary thing you’re doing to those two
young people. You’ll have to find another housekeeper.”

Before she reached the door, Philip rose from
his chair. “Celia?” She turned. “I thought we were friends. More
than just employer and employee.”

“We were. But I don’t want a friend who would
do this awful thing. Goodbye, Philip.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Philip
managed to dress and eat some soup, but he waited anxiously for
Lacey to return from work.

It was worth the wait. She burst through the
door carrying a baby boy. “Mrs. Cornwall let me take him for
supper, Grandpa.” As she tugged off Josh’s snowsuit, her eyes,
still red, still swollen, at least had life in them. It was going
to be all right. “I signed the papers for foster care today. They
take effect in two days.” She looked down at the boy. “Josh, meet
your grandfather.”

Philip was shocked to see tears in her eyes.
“Lacey? Honey?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Say hi to
Josh.”

They played with the baby, and ate sandwiches
for supper. When Lacey asked about Celia, Philip made some excuse
about her not coming in today. Lacey let it go. After she returned
from taking Josh home, she went upstairs. Soon he heard scrapes
along the floor above him and the blare of some ungodly rock music
coming from her stereo.

He went to investigate.

She didn’t answer his knock—probably didn’t
hear it—so he eased open the door. Her lovely room, the one he’d
kept just as she’d had it fourteen years ago when she’d left home
for good, was torn apart. The pictures had been taken off the wall.
The bed had been moved across the room. Bed linen, curtains and
other knickknacks were in piles on the floor.

He watched in silence as Lacey, her back to
him, yanked on the middle drawer of her desk. It stuck. She yanked
again. After three tries, it gave way. She pulled the drawer so
hard it came off the track. She froze for a moment. Then, to his
utter astonishment, she raised it up a foot and smashed it down
onto the corner of the desk. Pens, paper went flying. The wood
splintered. Lacey stared at it for a moment, then sank to her knees
in a fit of weeping.

Philip rushed to her, knelt down and grasped
her shoulders. Before he could say anything, she shook him off.
“No, please, go. Leave me alone. I just want to be left alone.”

After a long hesitation, Philip stumbled to
his feet, crossed the room and left her crying on the floor.

o0o

ON TUESDAY, Philip was pleased when Leonard
Small called him and invited him to lunch at Pepper’s. As they sat
in a small booth, Philip chatted aimlessly, grateful for the
respite from worrying about Lacey.

After lunch, Leonard coughed and cleared his
throat. “Philip, I’ve got something to say to you.”

Philip’s forehead creased.

“You know I’m glad the superintendent
insisted I attend Taylor’s party Saturday night.” Leonard peered
over at Philip, scowling. “In light of the dinner—and the
registered letter yesterday notifying the school district of
Taylor’s resignation—I have to tell you that I don’t like what
you’ve done here. What
I’ve
helped you do. Taylor’s made
some mistakes, but if you could have heard all those people talk
about him, seen all those kids and adults he helped—”

“I don’t want to hear this!”

Leonard watched him quietly for a minute.
“Well, you’re going to have to hear it. We’ve been friends for
almost fifty years. If I don’t tell you this, no one will.”

Don’t bet on it
, Philip thought,
recalling Celia’s comments.

“You’re wrong about Seth Taylor. People make
mistakes, particularly when they’re young. I’ve made my share and
you’ve made yours. What’s more, you’ve no right to interfere in
Taylor’s life.”

“When he’s after my granddaughter, I do.”

“No, Philip, you don’t. Lacey’s
thirty
-four, not four. If she’s making a mistake with
Taylor—which I don’t think she is—it’s her business. She has a
right to make her own choices without your interference.”

“She made her own choice.”

Leonard shook his head. “She made
your
choice, Philip. Ultimately you know that.” He put
down his napkin and slid out of the booth. Standing over the table,
his old friend finished, “I truly regret the part I played in this
scheme of yours. I’ve got a lot of penance to do over it.” After a
pause, he added, “So do you. I hope you realize that before it’s
too late.”

With a squeeze of Philip’s shoulder, Leonard
left him alone in the diner.

After supper that night, Philip was mulling
over Leonard’s words when Lacey appeared at the den doorway. “I’m
going running, Grandpa.”

He took in her heavy sweatshirt and
sweatpants. “Over at the school?”

Her eyes were blank. “No. no, I’m not running
at the school anymore. Outside.”

Philip glanced at the window. The glass was
frosted over. “It’s freezing weather, honey. You can’t run outdoors
in the middle of winter.”

She shrugged stiffly. “Of course I can. See
you later.”

And she was gone.

For too long.

Philip worried as the minutes ticked by. He
lost track of how many times he opened the front door looking for
her. After almost two hours, he was alarmed.
Lacey’s ready to
snap
...

Philip walked to the phone to call the
Lansings. Mitch would go look for her. Oh, God, what if she’d
tripped and was lying hurt somewhere? His heart thudded in his
chest as he searched for the phone directory Lacey kept in the
drawer. Clumsy hands made finding the number slow.

He was just dialing when the side door opened
and closed. His body sagged with relief, and a wave of dizziness
overcame him. He seized the edge of the desk to steady himself.
When he was finally able to make his way out of the den, he found
her climbing the stairs. “Lacey?”

She stopped. As he approached her, he said,
“Are you all right?”

She wasn’t. Her face was as white as the snow
outside, her lips thinned, bluish. Her slender body shivered.

But it was her eyes that got to him. They
were glazed, vacant. “All right?” she asked. The cold had made her
voice hoarse.

He reached out and touched her hood, running
his hand down it. Little bits of icicles beaded the fleece. For a
minute, she stiffened then she leaned into his touch. “Honey,
you’ve been gone two hours.”

“I have?” Again the husky voice. “I ran...I
don’t know exactly where.” She stared at him with wide and hollow
eyes. “I just kept running.”

He didn’t know what to do. He studied her
taut features, her rigid stance, and finally said, “Go take a warm
bath, honey.”

Wordlessly she nodded and trudged up the
stairs, her steps made heavy by the snow that caked the sneakers
she still wore. Philip was reminded of the night her father died.
She’d been overwhelmed with grief and he’d insisted she take a hot
bath, then had brought her and Kevin cocoa in bed.

Somehow Philip knew chocolate and warm water
wouldn’t be enough tonight.

Lacey went to bed soon after her bath. Philip
lit a fire in the den and turned on the TV to distract himself.

Christmas movies were playing. He reached for
the remote to shut off the TV, when he realized he’d tuned into his
favorite film,
A Christmas Carol
. He wanted to turn it
off, but something kept him from doing so. Instead, he watched
Ebeneezer Scrooge systematically alienate all those he loved.
His partner
. Philip thought of Leonard Small.
Scrooge’s fiancée
. Philip saw Celia’s face, heard the
condemnation in her voice. Philip remembered Lacey, half-frozen on
the steps.

And, for the first time in his seventy-six
years, Philip was ashamed of himself.

o0o

SETH SAT ALONE in church waiting for the
annual Christmas Eve candlelight service to begin. Though they
didn’t attend church regularly, he and Joey always came to this
particular service, as did half the town. It was a moving, poignant
highlight of the Christmas season.

Joey was out in the narthex, talking with a
girl Seth suspected his son had a crush on. He smiled at the
thought. How many more years would the boy join Seth to participate
in their annual holiday ritual?

Seth prayed for strength. God knew he’d been
in despair for the last several days.

There’d been the excruciating process of
resigning his job and accepting the State Ed. position. He’d sat in
his office, staring at the plaques on the wall, wondering how he
was ever going to live without Lacey
and
without the
job.

Seth decided to think about all the good
things he had to be thankful for this Christmas Eve.

First, as always, there was Joey. He was
working at the
Herald
, and like a hungry man staring at a
banquet he’d been barred from, Seth waited every day to hear about
Lacey.
She’s so cool Dad, she let me copyedit one of the
smaller stories...She signed the papers today to give foster care
to this little boy...Why is Ms. Cartwright so sad? Is it because of
her brother?

Despite having to hear about Lacey’s
suffering, Joey’s joy in working at the
Herald
was a
blessing Seth cherished.

When he turned around to look for his son, he
saw the Lansings, along with Johnny, enter the church and sit in
the back pew. Probably in case Cassie had to leave. He smiled at
them. She was due any day. Another blessing in his life. Seth
recalled the dinner she’d organized, and all those people who had
come to tell him he’d done a good job at the high school.

He
had
done good things there. The
latest piece of news was that Jerry Bosco had sent in his letter of
intent to retire, effective this June.

As Joey came down a side aisle and sat down
on his left, Seth saw Darcy McCormick and Nick Leonardi sidle into
a pew next to Nick’s parents. Yes, Seth had done some good.

The church darkened and the minister began to
light the candles assembled on the altar.

It was when their glow illuminated the church
once again that he saw Lacey had slipped in and sat three rows up,
on the opposite side of the sanctuary. On her right was Philip. On
her left, little Josh, holding tightly to her hand.

As the congregation stood to sing “Away in a
Manger,” Seth feasted his eyes on her. She’d removed her coat and
wore dark green, velvety-looking pants and a matching shirt. Her
lush flaxen hair was pulled back in a clip and, too vividly, he
recalled what it felt like sliding through his fingers. He wished
he could see her face, but it was dim inside the church.

He tried to tear his gaze away from her, but
he couldn’t. When the lights came up for the choir to sing, Seth
saw Josh climb up to stand on the pew. Lacey reached to heft him
down, but the toddler got a glimpse of Seth.

Josh’s features broke out in a huge grin.
“Se...Se...Se,” he said aloud, and before Lacey could stop him, he
scrambled out of the pew—heading right for Seth. He raced down the
aisle as Seth stepped out and scooped him up. “Hi, buddy,” he
whispered.

Josh patted Seth’s face and gave him a sloppy
kiss on the cheek. By then, the choir had begun a complex rendition
of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” and Lacey came toward them. As
he hugged the child to his chest, Seth met her eyes. The absolute
love he saw in hers nearly leveled him. But God must have been
watching over them, because Seth found the strength to smile and
she smiled back. Reluctantly, he handed the baby over to her, and
squeezed her arm.

Be strong
, he told her silently.

I will
, she said with her eyes.