That Summer (4 page)

When he saw me in the doorway with my hands full, he got up to hold the screen open. I set his turkey sandwich in front of him and poured him a mugful of coffee.

He took a long drink, like an alcoholic after a dry spell. Then he put the mug down and said to me, “I came because I have a red-bag pregnancy. It's My Ebony. Do you think you could monitor her? We're going to have to administer oxygen to the foal.”

A red-bag pregnancy occurred when the placenta separated from the foal before birth, leaving the baby open to asphyxiation.

“Did you have an ultrasound?” I asked.

“Yes and it showed the placenta beginning to separate. I don't want to lose this foal, Annie. Thunderhead is the sire and I think he'll make a very nice match for My Ebony.”

“You haven't moved her to the clinic?”

“No. I think it's best for foals to be born at home. Their immune systems are already programmed for the farm where their mother lives.”

“You have the oxygen?”

“Yes.” He took a bite of his sandwich.

“Okay. I'll look in on her.”

“Thanks.” He looked at me speculatively.

“Is there something else?”

“I have twenty yearlings to get ready for the July Keeneland sale and nobody to break them.”

“You're going to have to hire someone to replace Daddy.”

“I know that, but their training should begin now. Do you think you might help out? You have your father's gift with horses.”

I replied immediately. “Of course I'll help out, Liam.”

He gave me the smile that I found far more devastating than Kevin's. “Thanks, Annie.”

I cleared my throat. “So tell me about Someday Soon.”

“God, Annie. I'm so scared. He looks so good and I'm afraid to hope.”

“I saw the Florida Derby on TV.”

“I was there and my heart was in my throat. Did you see the finish he put on?”

“Yes, he was magnificent. What was he, nine horses back?”

“He was ten back and twenty lengths off the pace. He put in a stupendous finish. He made the other horses look like they were standing still.”

I had brought out a carafe filled with coffee and he poured himself another cup. “John is going to run him in the Wood Memorial in New York next week. That will be his prep race for the Derby.”

“Who are his chief competitors?”

“Bob Baffert has a horse in the Wood, Honor Bright. He's owned by the Dubai sheikhs and I think he'll be our main competition.”

“Are you going to New York for the Wood?”

“No. I went to Florida for the Derby, but there's too much going on here right now. I have mares booked to Thunderhead almost every day from now through the beginning of May.”

“Wow. That's great.”

“Yeah. We got a rush of bookings after Someday Soon won the Florida Derby. People are trying to get in early on his daddy before the price goes up.”

We sat for another half an hour, talking about the farm, about my practice, about my experiences in vet school. It had always been easy to talk to Liam. He really listened.

When he got to his feet to go, I stood up as well. He said suddenly, “My mother is coming home.”

“That's nice,” I said neutrally. Liam had been his mother's champion against his father his entire life.

“She's been at that rehab center in New Canaan.”

So I hadn't been too far wrong.

“I hope to God Dad gets rid of his latest bimbo,” Liam said savagely. “That's what drives her to drink like she does—his constant infidelities.”

I thought that the senator's infidelities were certainly a part of the drinking, but there had to be something more. I mean, Mrs. Wellington always had the option to leave him if his infidelities were so destructive to her psyche.

Prudently, I did not share my thoughts with Liam.

We talked for a little bit longer and then Liam pushed his chair into the table. “It was great talking to you again,” he said. “I've missed my Annie.” He bent and kissed my cheek. “Thanks for the lunch, brat.” And he was on his way.

After I had washed and put away the lunch dishes, I decided to take a drive over to the cemetery to visit Daddy's grave. No tombstone had been put in place as yet; it was just a hole in the ground filled in with dirt.

I cried and when I had pulled myself together I drove into town to get an ice cream. There was a line and I noticed Justin Summers standing in front of me. He got his ice cream and went to sit at a picnic bench under the trees. When I got my ice cream, I joined him.

“Where'd you get your law degree?” I asked him as we licked our cones.

“Same place where I went to college: UVA. I got a partial scholarship and took a loan out for the rest of it. I didn't have any loans from college thanks to my football scholarship.”

Justin had been the star quarterback of Midville's state-winning team ten years ago.

“Did you have any offers to go pro?”

“I have a bum knee, Anne. I wouldn't last a week in the NFL.”

“You're better off as a lawyer. I read an article that said football players have abbreviated life spans.”

“I've never regretted my career choice. When I got out of law school, Mr. Benson took me into his practice. He said he'd make me a partner when I turn thirty.”

“That's great.”

“I think so. I'm happy.”

“Did you know that Kevin is home?”

“No. Kevin and I don't exactly correspond.”

“Do you keep in touch with Liam?”

“No. After the case was over, we didn't really want to spend much time together.”

“Is the case over? Was it officially closed?”

“No. Technically it's still open, but it's been put in the cold case category. The only thing that might make the police open it is if someone found Leslie's body. Which is unlikely after all this time.”

“You're sure she was killed, then?”

He licked a drop from the side of his cone. “They found a baseball bat with her blood on it. Yes, I think she was killed.”

“I think so too. I just can't imagine you or Kevin or Liam doing it.” I took a bite of my own cone. “Someone else must have killed her and disposed of the body.”

Justin raised his eyebrows. “Why are we talking about this?”

I sighed. “I don't know. Coming home like this, with time on my hands, it just keeps coming back to me. My mother and father hustled me off to boarding school right after it happened, so I missed the investigation.”

“It was pretty awful. The police practically said that it was Liam or Kevin or me. They just didn't have any proof. So now the three of us have to go through life wondering if people think we are killers.”

I nibbled on the edge of my cone. “If you feel like that I would have thought you'd leave town and not come back to practice.”

He wiped some ice cream off his mouth with a napkin. “Mr. Benson made me such a good offer, and then there was Lauren. All of her friends are in this area. She didn't want to move.”

“I imagine it's pretty well forgotten by now.”

“It is. But every time I see Kevin or Liam, I think about it. Someone killed her, Anne. She didn't run away—not Leslie.”

A little drip of ice cream fell onto my hand and I licked it off. Justin finished his cone, smiled and said, “It was nice talking to you, Anne.”

“It was nice talking to you too.” I watched as Justin went off to his car.

I drove back home, still thinking about Justin. He really had had a fantastic high-school career. What Bruce Springsteen would call the “glory days.” I bet a lot of my contemporaries used him as their lawyer. They'd figure he had to be good at the law, he was so good at everything else.

I had been a lowly sophomore when Justin was a senior, and the only reason he knew me was because I had sometimes been included in the circle that had formed around Leslie the summer after her graduation. I remembered how Liam and Kevin had come home from their boarding school, full of excitement from graduation and anticipation at entering the University of Virginia in the fall. It hadn't taken long for them to meet Leslie.

My mind was preoccupied with the past the whole drive home, and after I parked the car and sat on the porch, I shut my eyes and let the past engulf me. Once again I was sixteen years old and asking my parents if I could go to a barbeque at Leslie's house.

My mother wasn't keen on my going. “That's the fast crowd from school, “ she worried. “I'm sure there'll be drinking. I wouldn't put it past Andy to get a keg. He lets Leslie have everything she wants.”

We were in the kitchen and my mother was making dinner. “I promise I won't drink any beer, “ I said. “And Liam is going. He'll take care of me.”

My mother was chopping an onion. “From what I hear, Liam is going to be too busy with Leslie to have much time for you, Anne.”

“Leslie has a boyfriend. She's with Justin Summers.”

My mother sniffed and blinked her eyes. “She was with Justin when Justin was the best pickings around. Now that Liam and Kevin are home, her horizon has expanded.”

“Kevin is better looking than Liam.”

“Yes, he is.”

“If she drops Justin maybe she'll take up with Kevin.”

My mother put down her knife. “Honey, I wish you would get over this crush you have on Liam. He's too old for you.”

“He's only two years older. Lots of senior boys have sophomore girlfriends. Anyway, I'm a junior now, not a sophomore.”

“In sophistication Liam is at least ten years older than you, Anne. He comes from a family where you have to grow up fast. You've had a more sheltered life.”

“Don't you like Liam, Mom? I thought you liked him!”

“Of course I like Liam. Both your father and I are very fond of him.”

“Then why isn't it okay for me to like him?”

“It's okay for you to like him, but not as a boyfriend, Anne. As I said before, he's too old for you.”

I said stubbornly, “I want to go to this party. Leslie invited me and I want to go.”

“We'll compromise. Your father will drive you and pick you up at eleven.”

“Mom!”

“Take it or leave it, Anne.”

“Oh, all right.” I stomped out of the kitchen and threw some sticks for the dogs to relieve my frustration.

Daddy took me to the party and came in with me to make certain that Leslie's parents were going to be there.

“If they're not here you're going home,” he told me.

I was mortified to be escorted by my father and when he went up to Mr. Bartholomew and spoke to him I wanted to cringe.

The two men spoke together for a few minutes, then Mr. Bartholomew put a hand on my father's shoulder. Daddy said something, then he turned and walked back to me. “It's okay, Leslie's father is going to be here. I'll pick you up at eleven.”

“Okay,” I said sullenly.

My father left and I moved shyly to join the gathering of young people on the back patio. Unfortunately, the crowd did not include Liam.

Andy Bartholomew built the family farm, Thornton Hill, ten years before. It had white clapboard siding and was as big as a hotel, with windows everywhere. I had never been inside, but all of those windows must have made it very bright.

The back patio was brick and very large. Hamburger and hotdog rolls were piled on a big gas grill, and there was a keg. A crowd of seniors, dressed in khaki or jean shorts and T-shirts, had broken up into small groups and were drinking beer and laughing and talking with the comfortable ease of people who knew each other very well. I knew most of them by sight, but I was quite sure that none of them knew me.

I felt like I was the only girl present who didn't have blonde hair.

Mom was right,
I thought dismally. I
shouldn’t have come.

Then salvation arrived. Liam came around the corner of the house and advanced out on to the patio. I went to him the way a steel shaving flies to a magnet.

“What are you doing here, Annie?” he asked.

“Leslie invited me.”

His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “She did? When?”

“She called me yesterday.”

“Ah.”

“What's ‘ah’? Is there something wrong in her inviting me?”

“I'm surprised your parents let you come.”

“Daddy is picking me up at eleven.”

“Liam.” It was Leslie herself. She wore jean shorts and a white shirt, which she had tied to expose her perfect midriff. Her golden hair hung loose around her shoulders and her eyes were a brilliant green. She was stunning.

Liam gave her a long, silent look. Then he said, “How's it going, Leslie?”

She linked her arm in his. “Come along with me. There's something I want to show you.”

I watched them walk away feeling like the little match girl with her nose pressed up against the windows of the rich. I wished I hadn't come.

“How about a soda?” I turned and it was Andy Bartholomew. “Your father doesn't approve of beer, but I can offer you a Coke, or a Sprite.”

I blushed. “I don't want to be a trouble, Mr. Bartholomew. “

“Not at all. Come with me and we'll fix you up.”

Andy Bartholomew had been a halfback for the New York Giants and a few years after retirement, he had bought this property in Virginia and built a home and a stable. He was a very large man and whenever I had met him he had always been genial. My dad had once said he was the perfect conversational partner; his two topics were horses and football.

I accepted a Sprite from the table where the soda was being kept and he said, “If you want to go home early, Anne, just let me know. I'll be happy to take you.”

Did I look that out of place?

“Thank you,” I said dismally.

I was standing there feeling very lonely when Kevin came in. I was about to go over to him when Leslie appeared out of nowhere and went to his side. In an almost exact replica of her greeting Liam, she put her hand on Kevin's arm.

“There you are, Annie.” It was Liam, coming up behind me. “What are you doing, trying to get some pointers from Leslie?“

“I thought that Justin was her boyfriend.”

“That's right. He was.”

“They broke up?”

“That's what I heard. He's not here tonight, if you notice.”

He was holding a glass in his hand that wasn't beer. “What's that?” I asked.

“Scotch.”

“Where did you get it?” I asked suspiciously. “There's only beer and soda out here. “