Birthday Girls (24 page)

A movement outside caught her attention. It was a man, poking through the late November foliage, gathering evergreen boughs. Edmund. In his jeans and rubber boots, his many-pocketed canvas jacket and tweed wool cap, he looked like a cross between an English country gentleman and an ad for
Mother Earth News
.

Raising her coffee cup to her lips, Kris smiled. She wondered what he’d think if he knew of his wife’s plan to vanish from the face of the earth. Then a small flush crept into her cheeks, a flush of embarrassment for her fantasy last night. Quickly she looked away.

“Good morning,” came Abigail’s voice from behind her. Kris looked up as Abigail gestured outside. “Enjoying the view of a man hard at work?”

She took another bite of croissant so her embarrassment
wouldn’t show. “You’re right about one thing, Abigail,” she said “Edmund’s a good man. Are you sure you want to leave him?”

“Don’t start,” Abigail said, pouring coffee from the silver server. “My mind is made up.” She puffed out the lace of her long satin gown and sat down. “And now I need to get this show on the road.”

Leaning back in her chair, Kris studied her friend. “What about this place? Is your estate … how do they say it … in order?”

“Windsor-on-Hudson will be turned over to the Historical Society. It’s something that was worked out in Grandfather’s will. Edmund knows that. But,” she said with another flick of her gaze out to the gardens, “Edmund will get plenty of money. Not that he’ll want it.” She shook her head then turned back to Kris. “The servants will be well cared for. And there’s a generous allowance in my will for Louisa.”

“Won’t you miss her?”

An unmistakable cloud of remorse drifted across Abigail’s veneer. She moved her eyes to the garden again. “Probably more than anyone else. But she’s wanted to join her sister in Phoenix for years. I think it’s only been her loyalty to me that’s stopped her. Now she’ll be free.”

“What about your business?”

Abigail shrugged. “Whatever royalties come will go to Edmund.”

“And your employees?”

At this question, Abigail was silent. She smoked her cigarette and stared out the window again. “You already know about Larry. The others … well, they’ll find work somewhere.” She lowered her eyes. “I just can’t go on worrying about other people, Kris. That’s been my problem all of my life.”

Kris nodded, fully aware that she had no idea what it
was like to have so many people depending on you, to have so much responsibility beyond yourself. “Have you made any more decisions? Like when and where?” She took another bite of croissant. “And
how
?”

Abigail sipped her coffee and looked furtively around. “Yes. I think I have everything worked out.” She told Kris her plans—from the jewelry she’d wear for her “financial future,” to the masquerade dive off the Tappan Zee Bridge. “I’ll need you along to drive another car. My ‘getaway’ car.”

Clearly she had thought it through.

“You’ll need a note. A suicide note.”

Grinding out her cigarette, Abigail studied the ashes. “Yes,” she replied. “I suppose I will.”

“Keep it short and sweet. Leave it on the dashboard of your car …”

“Along with my purse. My identification …”

“Your
old
identification, girl. Your Abigail Hardy identification.”

Abigail lit another cigarette. “I’m still working on collecting the twenty thousand for Mo Gilbert.” She laughed. “It seems absurd, but I don’t want to withdraw that much cash all at once. I don’t want anything to look suspicious.”

Nodding, Kris spread more jam on the croissant. “Maybe it’s time to set the date now. Get Mo started on the documents.”

“But Maddie …”

“Right. I forgot about Maddie. She really pissed me off in L.A. By the way, how does she figure into your getaway plan?”

Abigail raised her eyes. “I’d rather it was only you.”

“We can do this ourselves. We don’t need her.”

“But I can’t afford to alienate her. She knows too much.”

Kris was silent a moment. She returned her gaze to the
outdoors, where Edmund now collected fat pine cones. “Yes,” she added quietly, “I’m afraid you’re right.”

“The last time I saw her she had a date.”

“Parker?”

“No. Someone two decades younger.”

Kris whistled. “Maybe that’s why she was in such a rush to leave L.A.”

“Whatever,” Abigail said with a sigh. “I’d better go call her.” Pushing back her chair, she stubbed out her cigarette and stood up.

Glancing back out the window, Kris watched as Edmund bunched another pile of holiday greens. “I think I’ll go for a walk around the grounds,” she said. “Do you have anything civilized I can put on?”

If I seduce
him on the compost heap
, Kris wondered,
would we both come up smelling like dung?
She shook off her thoughts with a laugh, realizing it had been far too long since she’d been laid. Just because Abigail had once mentioned that Edmund would soon be an “available widower” and had great fatherhood genes, did not mean Kris had to react.

Then again, if he got her pregnant, it wouldn’t be as if he—or anyone—would ever have to know.

She strolled up behind him, “enjoying the view,” as Abigail said. When he bent over to tie some boughs in a bundle, Kris had to admit that he had a pretty good ass for a man over fifty—well, he had an ass at least; his backside had yet to succumb to the droop of round cheeks that usually began soon after forty. She supposed all this bending and stretching over dead weeds and dirt had kept those muscles in shape.

Edmund stopped, as if suddenly aware of a presence behind him. He turned and looked up at her. “Well, well,” he
said with a gentlemanly grin. “Did my wife send you out here to earn your keep?”

Laughing, Kris wondered if the glint in his eyes was a genuine spark of interest in her or mere hospitality. “I wanted some fresh air.” She gestured back to the manor. “Abigail will be out in a minute. She had a phone call to make.”

He returned the laugh. “It’s amazing how many excuses my wife can make to avoid real exercise. She pays some guru an astounding amount of money to keep fit, when all she really needs is to come out here once in a while.”

Kris made a mental note that twice in two sentences Edmund had referred to Abigail as his “wife.” It was followed by a flash of guilt over what his “wife” was going to do, and over the role Kris would be playing in the charade. It also suggested that he had an attachment to Abigail that might be difficult to … penetrate.

“The grounds here are so lovely,” she said, changing the subject. “I remember them from when I was a girl.”

“Did you spend much time here?”

She shrugged. “Plenty. Enough.”

“Abigail doesn’t talk much about her school days.”

“None of us do. They weren’t terribly pleasant.”

He held her eyes for a moment with a soft, gentle smile, as though he understood, as though he knew about Betty Ann. As though he knew everything. Then he nodded in silence and went back to work.

A veil of discomfort draped over Kris’s heart, as if trying to shroud the secrets that had leaked to the world—or had, at least, leaked to Edmund, a sensitive, caring man. She slipped her hands into the pockets of Louisa’s old gardener’s jacket, curled her fingers into her palms, and tried to push away the speculation that he would indeed be a remarkable lover. “Well,” she said slowly, “I guess I’ll take a
walk.” He nodded again and she strolled away, bewildered by the dent he’d made in her soul.

The last
place Kris knew she should venture was to the reflecting pool. Yet she was drawn toward it by the magnet of old memories that was stronger than her will. Each step along the marble chip path was familiar, each tree was as it had been—bigger, fuller, yet somehow the same, casting the same ominous shadow, forewarning the same inevitable doom.

Go home
, her thoughts said as the unsettledness traced its way from her heart to her head.

She knew that she should. She should go home and forget she’d ever come back. Forget about Abigail. Forget about Maddie. Forget about closure and birthday wishes that were probably better off left alone.

Just forget, damnit. Go home and go back to work
.

Then, she was there.

The air was still. At the far end of the pool a pair of tall stone fountains stood silent, braced for the onset of winter. The white tile walkway that stretched around the perimeter was littered with dried autumn leaves. And in the water before her tired water lilies sagged, waiting to be cleared out, to be dumped, no doubt, into the compost heap with the rest of last season’s trash.

Dumped
, Kris thought.

The way she had been.

Right here.

So long ago.

“Good news!” Abigail’s sharp voice startled her. She hadn’t heard her approach. “Hey,” Abigail rambled, “the reflecting pool. Remember the night we went skinny dipping? How old were we? Twelve? Thirteen?”

Kris sighed. “Older I think. Maddie had boobs.”

“Maddie was born with boobs. Speaking of Maddie, I’ve got great news. We’re taking her shopping tonight.”

“Gee whiz,” Kris said insipidly, “I didn’t think shopping with Maddie could be considered ‘great news’.”

“Don’t be flip. I told you. I need to keep her on my side. She has a date tomorrow night, and I said we’d help her look terrific.”

“Does the ‘we’ include me?”

“Of course.”

The thought of seeing Maddie right now—today—was not pleasant. “I told you, Abigail, I’m still pissed at her.”

“But I need her …”

“So go without me. Tell her I have a migraine or something. I’ll stay here and work. Which would be better, anyway, because I’m behind on a deadline.”

“But Kris …”

“Please, Abigail. I’m not up for Maddie today.”

Abigail finally relented.

As they walked back toward the house, Kris spotted Edmund again and decided that being alone with him for a few hours was not an unappealing prospect. After all, it wasn’t as though her work was terribly pressing.

“Of course
Kris isn’t mad at you. She had to work.” Abigail had told Smitty she didn’t need him to drive, and now she steered her Mercedes toward the shopping district in the center of town and tried to act as if she wasn’t annoyed that Kris had left her to deal with Maddie alone. They were supposed to be in this
together
, and Kris should have known that off-the-rack shopping would not be Abigail’s idea of fun. Still, Kris had let her off the hook, saying Abigail did not have to wait until Kris was pregnant to make her escape. Kris had let her off the hook, and
now, once Maddie was taken care of, Abigail would finally be free.

“It’s too bad about the baby,” Maddie replied.

“It wasn’t exactly a
baby
, Maddie. Just a few thousand sperm that decided to go elsewhere.”

“You sound almost happy about it.”

“I’m not
happy
. But she did say she doesn’t want to hold me up any longer.” She pulled into a parking lot behind a string of boutiques. “All we have to do is get you back with Parker, and I’ll be on my way. Your date tomorrow is a good beginning.”

Maddie was silent a moment. “I didn’t say I was having dinner with Parker.”

Abigail looked at her and turned off the ignition. “Oh?”

“My date is with Cody.”

“The boy toy?”

“Abigail, please. I’m hoping it will help make Parker jealous.”

Abigail rapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“Abigail, please.”

“I’m serious, Maddie. Either you’re sleeping with him or you’re not.”

“Well, I haven’t … yet.”

Abigail sighed. “Well, you might as well be prepared. We’ll get you the perfect dress and a chemise to have in your bag. Just in case.”

“A chemise?”

“Of course. You don’t want him to see your body, do you? Darling, at our age there are some things neither nature nor Andrew can conceal.”

“Well …”

She dropped the keys into her purse. “And contraceptives. Don’t forget those. You can’t depend on a man to have them.”

“Abigail, realty. I don’t know if I’ll sleep with Cody. I don’t know if … could.”

“Well, whatever,” Abigail said, and opened her door. “just decide if you want him or if you want your ex-husband. And make it snappy, because I’ve got places to go and a new person to become.”

Kris felt
ridiculous. She’d never attempted to seduce anyone who she wasn’t sure would respond in a positive way. A very positive way. She told Louise she didn’t want dinner, and she waited until Edmund had finished. Perhaps he would be mellow and relaxed, his defenses down. She had no idea how long Abigail would be gone, but she decided another hour was safe. An hour. Plenty of time.

He was in his study with oversized art books strewn across the large cherry desk, a magnifying glass in one hand, a teacup in the other, an assiduous wrinkle on his brow.

“Still looking for those Gauguins?” Kris asked with what she hoped was a smile. She also hoped he would notice the outline of her body under her short Lycra dress.