Behind the Pine Curtain (17 page)

“You are, Kay. You could have folded. But you bought a business, you bought a house. You survived.”

“Yeah. I survived.” Kay reached over and took Jacqueline’s hand. “Oh, Jackie, at first, I didn’t think I would survive. I was humiliated. It wasn’t so much what people were saying. I mean, they were sympathetic, how could they not be? But I was so disappointed in myself, for the choices I’d made, the decisions. Everything I did seemed wrong. When I opened my business, I thought, is this wrong, too? Is this another mistake?”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No. It was the best thing I could have done. I had something to focus on, something to work for. It’s turned out okay. And, you know, I’m happy.”

Jacqueline saw the doubt in Kay’s eyes. She wondered what was really wrong, what regrets Kay had. Obviously, she regretted her marriage.

But what else? Was it arrogant of her to think that perhaps Kay regretted their lost friendship? That her leaving had affected Kay somehow?

Jacqueline leaned forward. “Let’s eat, huh?”

“Good. I thought you’d never ask.”

They both stood, only feet apart. When their eyes met, Kay smiled and moved into Jacqueline’s arms, holding her.

“Thank you for talking. I never get to voice my feelings to anyone. No one would understand.”

Jacqueline let her arms wrap around Kay for a second, then pulled back, afraid her body would give her away. “You can always talk to me, Kay.”

“I know. I’ve always known that.” Kay moved to the stereo. “Want me to put on some more music?”

“Sure. You pick.”

They fixed their plates in the kitchen and carried them into the dining room. Jacqueline went back for the wine, her body moving to the light jazz CD that Kay had chosen. She noted that the candles had been lit and she smiled at Kay, tipping her glass in the other woman’s direction.

“Very nice.”

“Yes, it is. Thank you.”

Their conversation over dinner was more relaxed, Jacqueline telling Kay about her writing, her condo and her handful of friends in California.

“I don’t think you should buy a house in the hills,” Kay finally said.

“Do you know how many times you’ve mentioned the bay and the ocean and the sounds of the water? I think maybe you like it there more than you think.”

“When I was in LA, I lived in the city. I was surrounded by buildings and concrete. So, moving to Monterey and having a view of the bay is like moving to the country for me. And I have grown to love it. Besides, if I feel like getting away, I can always go visit Ingrid.”

“Are you there a lot?”

“Probably more than Cheryl likes. I go up some weekends, often staying over on Saturday night. I miss the space, you know. They’ve got nearly an acre lot, on the edge of the redwood forest. It’s quite beautiful.”

“I’m glad you haven’t turned into a city girl, Jackie. Look at you, still so comfortable in your jeans.”

“I tried for a long time to forget that, you know. I wanted to fit in.

Ingrid and I are friends. Good friends, really. But she didn’t even know about my past. I never told them about where I’d come from, and they didn’t ask.”

“Why wouldn’t they ask?”

Jacqueline shrugged. “I could say that maybe they didn’t care enough to ask. But that’s not it. I think they accepted that if I wanted to tell them, I would. Neither of them are close to their families. They don’t really talk about that, either, so it wasn’t hard.”

“And in your mind, you really had no family?”

“Exactly. It wasn’t like they were in my thoughts, you know?”

“Did we never cross your mind, Jackie?”

“
Yo u
crossed my mind, Kay. I thought about you a lot. I never forgot you.”

“I’m glad.” Kay smiled across the table. “Because I never forgot you, either.”

Jacqueline smoothed the one pair of dress slacks she’d brought with her, then slammed the door on her Lexus. Kay thought she looked nice, even though she was wearing the same blouse she’d worn to the funeral. She hadn’t exactly packed for a week’s stay and, after today, she was officially out of clothes.

Mr. Lawrence’s secretary greeted her with a curt nod. “Ms. Keys.”

Jacqueline smiled politely. “Am I early?”

“No, they’ve been waiting,” the older woman said disapprovingly.

“Good.” Jacqueline strolled confidently to the door, knocking once before entering. Five men, all in suits, stood immediately.

“Jacqueline, come in,” John said, motioning to the only empty chair.

“You know your uncle, of course. This is Matthew Drake, his attorney.”

Jacqueline politely shook his hand, sliding her glance to her uncle.

“Uncle Walter, how are you?”

“Fine, Jacqueline. You’re looking well.”

“Thanks.”

“And this is Tim and Jim Gentry.”

Jacqueline raised an eyebrow. The Gentry twins. What had their mother been thinking?
Tim and Jim?

“Ms. Keys, nice to meet you,” Tim or Jim said.

“They will represent your mother,” Lawrence said. “Have a seat, and we’ll get started.”

Jacqueline sat and addressed Tim or Jim. “How is my mother, anyway?”

“Well, she’s in the hospital, as you know.”

“Yes. Are we doing a live video feed to her or something?”

“Excuse me?”

“I just can’t imagine my mother missing this,” she said, noticing that Walter covered his mouth to hide a smile. Yes, even as a kid, she could feel the tension between Uncle Walter and her mother. No love lost there, for sure.

“We will be acting on her behalf and of course—”

“Reporting back to her immediately.”

“Yes.”

Jacqueline looked at John and raised both eyebrows. He nodded.

“Shall we begin?”

Jacqueline let Mr. Lawrence’s voice fade into the background, instead, watching the reactions of the others. To her Uncle Walter’s credit, he gave no visible reaction to learn that Jacqueline had inherited her father’s share of Pine Springs Lumber. It occurred to her then that perhaps her father had already told him of his intentions. His only visible sign of surprise was when he raised his eyebrows at the mention of the bank. Her father’s share in that, too, was left to Jacqueline. Tim and Jim were frantically writing notes, no doubt on orders from her mother. The will was rather straightforward, leaving most of his liquid assets to his wife, except some stock that he’d put in Jacqueline’s name years ago, and a house on South Padre Island.

Jacqueline hid her surprise well, she thought.
South Padre?
Good Lord.

What would she do with a house on the island?

“Lastly, he is leaving one million dollars to the city of Pine Springs, Texas to be used only for improvements to the existing City Park and the building of a new library for public use.” Lawrence closed the folder and looked up. “Any questions?”

“Excuse me,” Tim or Jim said. He looked at his notes. “There was no mention of Keys Industries.”

“No. Keys Industries is not a part of his estate. The company, upon Nicolas Keys’s death, reverted in full to the co-owner.”

“Co-owner? Walter Keys?”

“No. Jacqueline Keys.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lawrence passed a copy of the affidavit across the table.

“Co-owner?” Uncle Walter asked.

“Yes.”

“But . . .”

Mr. Lawrence passed a copy to him as well, and Jacqueline watched as they read, wondering if any would question it. Walter passed the paper to his attorney, obviously confused by the legal document.

“So this is not part of his estate?” Tim or Jim asked.

“No.”

“I’m . . . I’m surprised, Jacqueline. I had no idea you and your father reconciled,” Walter said. “Does your mother know?”

Jacqueline smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re in for a fight.”

“There will be no fight, Walter. The affidavit is perfectly legal,” John Lawrence said.

Walter looked to his attorney.

“Yes. It’s quite explicit regarding ownership.”

Walter nodded. “I see. Well, Jacqueline, I guess we have some business to discuss.”

“I suppose we do.”

“I assume you want to sell. I’m willing to listen.”

“Sell? Why do you assume that?”

Uncle Walter sat up straighter. “Well, you don’t live here, for one thing.

For another, I’m certain you have no idea how to run a lumber business.”

“You’re right about that. I’m hoping my father hired capable managers, Walter.” Jacqueline stood. “Actually, I was hoping to get a tour of the plants later today. If you have the time, that is.”

He nodded. “Do you even remember where the mill is?”

“About two?” Jacqueline asked, ignoring his question.

“Very well.”

“Good.” She turned to the twins. “Give Madeline my regards.” She shook hands with Mr. Lawrence. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Of course.”

Jacqueline walked out into the sunshine, finally releasing a sigh. It had gone better than she’d expected. Of course, once her mother heard the news, she was certain she’d get a call from one of the twins. Well, she’d let Mr. Lawrence handle that. Right now, she wanted to get into her jeans.

It was only eleven. She had plenty of time to change and surprise Kay with lunch. She smiled—just the thought of the other woman brightened her day.

“Friends, just friends,” she murmured as she drove to Kay’s house.

Regardless, she was glad to have Kay in her life again. And if it was as friends, that was still better than not at all.

She pulled on the same jeans she’d worn yesterday, throwing the rest into a pile. She needed to remember to do laundry tonight or she’d be walking around town in her sweat pants. She decided a greasy hamburger for lunch would hit the spot and drove to the Dairy Mart, waiting in line at the drive-thru, impatiently tapping her fingers on her leg. Te n minutes later, she was on her way to the new strip center, the smell of burgers and fries making her stomach growl.

Thankfully, Kay’s car was parked out front, and she walked in, glancing around the store for a familiar face.

“Hi. May I help you?”

Jacqueline met who she assumed was Mrs. Cartwright. She smiled and held up the bag. “Looking for Kay.”

“Oh? Is she expecting you?”

Jacqueline shifted the bag to her left hand and extended her right. “I’m Jacqueline Keys, an old friend. I’m staying with her.”

“
You’re
Jacqueline Keys? Oh my. Well, I was sorry to hear about your father. You probably don’t remember me. Gladys Cartwright. My husband worked at the mill for years.”

“I’m sorry, no.”

“Well, I didn’t imagine you would. I heard that you were in town, but I had no idea you were staying with Kay.”

And no doubt the news will be all over town by nightfall, Jacqueline guessed.

“Where is she? I brought lunch.”

“Oh, Kay’s in the back working on an order.”

Jacqueline nodded. “And the back would be . . . where?”

“I’m sorry. Here, I’ll show you.”

Jacqueline followed the older woman, trying not to be annoyed. Small towns and all, they couldn’t help it.

“Kay? You have a visitor.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there,” Kay said without looking up.

“Actually, I thought I’d join you back here,” Jacqueline said.

Kay’s head jerked up, a smile lighting up her features. “Jackie! What are you doing here?”

She held up the bag. “Lunch.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” She put her pen down and walked over, one arm circling Jacqueline’s shoulder. “Mrs. Cartwright, do you mind holding down the fort for awhile longer?”

“Of course not, dear.” She walked away, then stopped. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Kay’s eyes collided with Jacqueline’s, both twinkling with amusement.

“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Cartwright. But thank you.” When the older woman left, Kay apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. She’s just looking out for you. Maybe later you could scream or something, give her something to worry about,” Jacqueline teased.

“You’re just awful. I will not. She loves to gossip, and it would be all over town that you
tried
something with me.”

“Well, I’ll let you slap me. That should put me in my place.”

Kay pointed to a chair. “Sit down and quit causing trouble.”

Jacqueline did. “I guess I should have called first. You don’t have plans, do you?”

Kay smiled. “Plans? No, Jackie. I have no lunch plans. In fact, I’m glad you came. I want to know what happened.” Then she reached for the bag. “What’d you get?”

“Burgers.”

“Great.” Kay pulled out one. “Oh, and fries. You get extra points for fries.”

“Maybe we should keep a tally then.”

“Well, you got extra points for last night’s dinner.” She bit down on a crunchy fry. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“How can you think of dinner when you’re eating lunch?”

“I have a very high metabolism,” she stated.

“Uh-huh. That’s how you’ve stayed so skinny?”

“Well, that and, you know, I can’t cook.”

Jacqueline pulled her own burger out, spreading out the paper and pouring her fries out, dousing them with ketchup.

Kay took a bite and grinned. “You remembered how I like them. No tomatoes.”

“Who could forget? You threw enough of them at me over the years.”

Kay reached over and grabbed Jacqueline’s hand. “It was nice of you to do this. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. And I also knew that you’d be curious about the reading and all.”

“Yes. So spill it.”

Jacqueline laughed. “Nothing to spill. No fireworks.”

“None? How boring. Your Uncle Walter didn’t grab you by the throat, demanding answers?”

“Nope. Although he assumed I wanted to sell.”

“And do you?”

“No.”

Kay smiled. “Good. So, what are you going to do with it?”

“Well, I don’t rightly know,” Jacqueline drawled in her best southern accent.

Kay laughed. “Who was there for your mother?”

“Tim and Jim Gentry.”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah. Although only one spoke.”

Kay nodded. “That would be Tim. Jim’s a little shy. Always has been.”

“How do you tell them apart?”