Nora and Liz (29 page)

“Anytime, babe, anytime. See you soon, okay?”

“Okay. You need me to pick you up at the airport?” She found that now she was reluctant to hang up, to face the dark cabin alone.

“Nope. We’re renting a car.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re doing a New England tour first. That’s why you’re leaving tomorrow. Sorry. Momentary lapse.”

“No problem. Hey, want to come along? If you’re fancy free, why not, huh?”

Liz smiled bitterly. What would he think, she wondered, if she told him she didn’t feel she should till the police cleared her of murder? She hesitated, longing to tell him, to tell him everything, in fact. But then he’d probably get on a plane tonight without Susan and Gus, ready to do battle.

And there still was Nora.

Maybe. Was there?

“No, Jeff, that’s okay, Thanks, though. You guys should have your own vacation,
en
famille
.”

“
You’re part of our
famille
.”

“
I know,
Jeffie
, but just no, okay?”

“Okay, but think about it. You can always change your mind.”

“Thanks.”

“Well—
g’night
, sis. Have a drink and go to bed. The
sun’ll
rise again tomorrow, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Jeff, I…”

“You what?”

“I love you.”

“And well you should. I love you, too, babe. ’Bye.”

“ ’Bye.”

Thank God for him, she thought, hanging up and climbing the stairs to her room. At least he’s always there.

Mechanically, Liz brushed her teeth, changed into the t-shirt she slept in, and crawled into bed. But she couldn’t sleep, so she went out to the dock and sat on its edge, watching the stars.

***

And Nora, sleepless at the farm, sat out by the garden, Thomas on her lap, staring up at the sky till dawn.

Stiffly, Nora stood, tipping Thomas, who mewed reproachfully, off her lap. She stretched and limped—her leg was cramped from sitting all night—into the house, where she put on her muslin apron and began heating water for the bath ritual. Her eyes felt gritty, her mouth dry and sour. Mechanically, she got out the bath things and, when the water was ready, carried them as usual into Ralph’s room.

“Good morning, Father.” She set down the basin and kissed his damp forehead; though she seldom did that, she felt this morning they both needed it. “Did you sleep?”

“No.” His voice was edged with pain and she saw that his eyes were red. She put a hand on his pillow; it was wet. Had he been weeping, then, all night? Shouldn’t the new pills have prevented that?

She knelt by his bedside, caressed his cheek. “I miss her, too,” she whispered. “I loved her, too. Can’t we mourn together?”

He pulled away from her. “You let that woman into our house,” he bellowed. “A viper in our midst. You let her influence you, take you away from me, from your mother, from your duty. You let her disrupt our schedule, our home. You let her destroy your mother. You know she…”

“Father,” Nora said sharply, standing, her throat aching with the tears she couldn’t shed in front of him, “listen to me. Liz Hardy did not poison Mama. Nothing could be further from her mind or her heart. She liked Mama. She tried to understand you. And she helped me, helped me enormously. She’s my friend, Father, or she was, before I foolishly turned her away. I wish…”

“Good! Good girl for turning her away. Not foolish at all,” Ralph said. “She’s evil, Nora, I could see that. She’s too interested in you. Why? Wants to get her hands on this place, you wait and see. But she can’t have it, because we won’t let her. Will we?”

“Oh, Father! Liz has no interest in ‘this place’ as you call it. Why would she? Why would anyone? The house is run down, there’s no electricity, no water…”

“The land, Nora, the land.” Ralph pushed himself to a sitting position. “I can see now that I made a mistake. Thought keeping the house the old way would protect the land, too. But it won’t. People want land now, not houses. I see that in those newspapers you get.”

Nora stared at him, aghast. “You mean—you mean you wouldn’t have electricity and water and—and everything because you thought that would protect the farm, keep it for
youself
? But you always said…”

His eyes gleamed. “Oh, it’s true I don’t hold with those newfangled things. But your old father has more tricks than that up his sleeve. I knew no one would ever want to buy a house that’s like this one; people want modern things. I knew you couldn’t sell it.”

Nora sat abruptly on the edge of his bed. “What?” she whispered. “You mean you kept the house like this to keep me from selling it?” she whispered. “Not because of its history the way Grandfather did? Not because of not wanting to pay more taxes? Just to keep me here?”

He seized her hand. “Oh, honey,” he moaned. “I knew I’d need you, that Mama would need you. We were already middle-aged when you were born. I had to think of the future. I knew we couldn’t face the end of life, growing old and sick, alone. And I was right, Nora, look what happened to Mama, to me!”

“You didn’t let me have friends, you didn’t let me go to the movies with my friends,” Nora said, her voice flat and emotionless. “You didn’t let me learn to drive. You’ve made me…” She got up, ignoring the bath-basin, ignoring his grasping hands, and ran out of his room ignoring his shouts, then his moans, ran through the kitchen, out of the house and blindly to the barn, where she flung herself into the Ford, thrust the key in the ignition, and spun the car around, scattering Thomas who’d been stalking a bird; she roared down the farm’s dirt road.

She slowed when she got to the main road. I will not, she told herself, go to Liz; I will not do that. I will not go running to her as if she’s some kind of
saviour
and I’m weak and helpless and God knows what.

But she drove to the lake anyway, to the plot of vacant land across from Liz’s cabin, and she sat on a rock near the shore, looking toward where Piney Haven was hidden by trees and smiling in spite of herself as she remembered Liz teaching her to swim and herself teaching Liz about the plants in her garden.

***

When Nora got back to the house, she spotted the
Hastingses
’ car and groaned.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hastings!” she said gaily, forcing a spring to her step when she went in the front door and strode into the kitchen. “What a nice surprise!”

Marie stood and took Nora’s hands. “Oh, my dear,” she said, “your father was so worried about you. If we hadn’t stopped in…”

“That’s water under the dam.” Swiftly, Charles pulled out a chair and seated Nora. “We’ve got him settled now. I’ll just go in and tell him you’re all right.” He patted her hand and left the room.

“Nora, dear,” said Marie, bending closer, her eyes fixing firmly on Nora’s, “your cousin, that nice Andrew Parker, came to see us last night and we had such a good talk with him. It’s so wonderful that he and his wife have offered to take you and your father in. He told us all about their huge house, which will be empty soon since their children are almost grown and anyway are away at school or college most of the time, and he said there are hospitals nearby in case your father should get sick, even a mental hospital, and they’d just love…”

“No,” Nora said automatically. But now it almost tempted her. If Father could go there, just Father…

“Nora, dear, listen to me. Your father’s not getting any younger. His mind is clearly going, what with that ridiculous accusation. Miss Hardy may be interfering, but she certainly isn’t a murderess. What will you do if he really has a psychotic episode, which Dr. Cantor says is quite possible, and goes after you? Dr. Cantor says he’s to have an evaluation to find the right medication and other treatment, too, perhaps, but what if none of that works? You can’t risk being alone with him, Nora; you need protection and so does he. If the doctors think he can remain out of a hospital, it would be better for both of you to be with other people, don’t you see that? Naturally we’d be sorry to lose you, but…”

Nora tuned her out, watching the sun’s patterns on the floor. She drank the tea Marie brewed and handed her, but as Marie droned on, she silently recited Emily Dickinson and Shakespeare and Yeats, and wondered if she were losing her mind as rapidly as her father seemed to be losing his. For he was, of course; Mrs. Hastings was right; Dr.
Herschwell
had as much as said so. And the evaluation—Nora had forgotten about that!

“…So you see it will be easy to make the move and of course we’ll help. Charles will take care of explaining to your father; he’s already started. I’m sure Georgia Foley will be able to find a buyer for the farm. And Ralph…”

“No!” Nora almost shouted the word, surprising herself. Thoughts came in weary fragments: not Andrew, but Father? The farm—solitude. But—a prison, too. Thomas. Liz…

She shook herself, actually shook her shoulders, snapping herself back into reason, into politeness. “You’re being very kind, Mrs. Hastings, everyone is, but I don’t know yet what we’re going to do. I don’t know if we’re going to do anything. I can’t think yet. Please!”

Marie patted Nora’s hand. “Oh, I know, dear, I know. It’s all terribly hard, and I don’t mean to rush you. It’s just that your cousin has to go back soon, and, well, of course, I know it’s hard to go into someone else’s home when you’ve been running your own, but your cousin said they could even fix up part of their house as a little apartment, with a kitchen and everything, so you wouldn’t have to share. Two women in a kitchen is, I agree, a blueprint for trouble.”

Nora thought of Liz moving smoothly with her around her kitchen and smiled.

“Good,” said Marie. “I’m glad you…”

“But I don’t, Mrs. Hastings,” Nora said quickly. “Please.”

She looked at Charles as he came back into the room. “Please. I’m very tired. Thank you for caring so much, but…”

The telephone rang; its sound still startled Nora, but she was glad for the interruption. Charles gave a little wave and turned to go as Nora reached for it, but his wife hesitated.

It was Detective Morris. “I knew you’d want to know as soon as possible, Miss
Tillot
,” he said, “though I also know how difficult all this is. Forgive me for sounding clinical. The tests are in on the blood and tissue samples taken from your mother’s body; they’re all negative. I was off duty when they came in. I’m sorry for the delay in getting back to you, especially since the results came in so quickly.”

Nora put her hand to her head; Marie immediately went to her and took her arm. Annoyed, Nora turned away slightly, but Marie still held on and Charles pushed a chair over to her. “What does that mean?” Nora asked, refusing the chair.

“It means that there’s no basis for the accusation that your mother was poisoned. She died solely of a brain hemorrhage, a stroke, as we suspected.”

“So there’s no—no question at all? My friend Liz Hardy is…”

The
Hastingses
looked at each other anxiously.

“Ms. Hardy is no longer under any suspicion. Actually, she never really was, but we had to make sure. Now may I speak to your father, please? He needs to be told the news.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“I think,” said Detective Morris gently, “it might be better if I did. Begging your pardon, but he might not believe you, since he seems to have a, shall we say, a suspicious turn of mind.”

“You’re right,” Nora said. “I’ll get him. It may take a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

Nora laid the receiver on the counter and turned to the
Hastingses
. “That was Detective Morris,” she explained. “There was no trace of poison. I’ve got to get Father so he can tell him. Then I’d like to call my friend Liz and tell her. I’m sorry, but…”

“But we should leave.” Charles took his wife’s elbow. “We’ll check in with you later. Are you sure you’re all right for now?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Nora said, her heart leaping with the knowledge that she now had an excuse to call Liz. Would I have called her anyway, she wondered, hoping she would have, to apologize, but doubting it. “Thank you.”

She stood silently in the kitchen while the
Hastingses
left; then she went into Ralph’s room.