THE GREAT BETRAYAL (13 page)

Hope you’ll write back soon.

Grace C.

Even before Dawn had stopped reading, Leslie had burst into tears.

“
What the hell do I say to that?” she sobbed. Her fear was palpable. “Nothing could possibly come close to understandable.”

“How about the truth?” Dawn replied, getting up. “Just tell her the truth.”

“But the truth is so horrible,” cried Leslie, reaching for tissue. “
I
am so horrible!”

Guiding her back into her chair, Dawn smoothed her friend’s hair. “You’re not horrible now, Leslie. You made a bad decision when you were very young and in a lot of pain. But read that e-mail again…Don’t you see? You have a second chance. She’s reaching out, hon. Grab her, Leslie. Grab her and don’t let go ever again. You can fix this. I know you can.”

“Oh, God, only in my wildest dreams have I ever imagined that could be true.” She paused. “Do you really think it’s possible for us? Would you be able to forgive me if you were Grace?”

Dawn looked at Leslie. “You’re her mother. Of course she’ll forgive you. She wants to forgive you as badly as you want to be forgiven. Reply to her, Leslie,” said Dawn, patting her shoulder one last time. Then she headed for the door. “See you at lunch.”

Back in her own office, Dawn picked up the phone. She dialed the familiar number. It rang three times.

“
Yeah,” Luke Cavanaugh answered. His deep voice electrified the phone line.

“Grace e-mailed Leslie last night. She just got the message this morning.”

“Really?” Luke sounded surprised. “Did she tell you what it said?”

“Well, she couldn’t read it herself. She called me down and I read it to her. She’s pretty shaken up, Luke. And I think it’s clear—now that the contact’s been made and everything’s out in the open—she wants to have a relationship with her…so brace yourself.”

She heard Luke exhale. She felt his pain. His angst. They’d been feeling it together now for quite some time.

Leslie’s revelation had only intensified the need, in recent months, to be in touch with Luke. To share the emotional overload.

“Thanks for the heads up,” he said. “I suppose she’s due for an impromptu trip to Saks or something now, eh?”

Dawn laughed. “‘Or something’ is right! Don’t worry. I’ll try my best to keep her out of trouble, Luke.”

“You do that.” He was silent for a moment. “You’re the best, Dawn.”

Lyle Burns was not giving up on her. But was he the man Dawn wanted?

They’d started dating again in the last few months, and though, at Dawn’s request, they usually met at restaurants for dinner, or at the beach for long walks to neck and chitchat, tonight he’d invited her over to his condo, ostensibly to have wine and listen to his Barry Manilow collection.

Though she’d never really felt much for him romantically, Dawn did have a great admiration for Lyle’s drive and ambition. He’d left his job with Wackenhut a couple years back to start a security company of his own, End of Insecurities, EOI, and it was thriving. He wasn’t a very tall man, but what he lacked in height, he made up for with his great smile and infectious personality. And she had to admit he was excellent company.

Now, as Barry crooned about who wrote the songs, Lyle was making his move. Dawn relaxed as she always did, and allowed him to kiss her neck and play with her breasts. But once his hands made their way down to her slacks, she stopped him.

“
Goddamn it,” he muttered, moving off of her. “How old did you say you were?”

Dawn sat up in his leather sofa. She could see his erection straining against the material of his pants. “Sorry, Lyle. You know I’m not ready for—”

“
I repeat: How old did you say you were? Because I’m extremely confused. I’m beginning to wonder whether I’m dealing with an underage teenager.”

“
Lyle.” Her voice was stern, sterner than she’d intended. She reached for his arm. “Let’s not go down this road again. I’ve explained my situation. I can’t force you to understand.”

“You’re not the one who died, Dawn. Would he have wanted you to live a life of celibacy? How long do you intend to go without being with a man again? What exactly are you waiting for?” He shot from the couch. “You’re a young, vibrant, beautiful woman. And I want to love you in every possibly way…but you won’t let me.”

“Oh, Lyle—”

“I can understand the photos. I can understand the stories. I can understand that you’ll always carry his memory around with you in your heart. I can understand to a point, Dawn. But all these years, and you still only want to neck like teenagers.” He sighed dismally. “Why? And don’t tell me it’s out of respect for your dead husband. He didn’t die yesterday.”

Dawn returned his somber stare. “But it
is
out of respect, Lyle. I’m sorry, but it is. I’m just not ready…not yet.
Please
understand.”

Swearing under his breath, Lyle stood and walked over to the stereo. By then, Manilow was crooning “Looks Like We Made It.”

Lyle killed the music.

Chapter 25

Memphis, Tennessee

Grace Cunningham had been thinking all day about the e-mail she’d sent to her birth mother.

Would she get a response? If so, how long would Leslie Cavanaugh take to respond? What would she say?

The answers came that afternoon after school. During the day she’d gone to the library and checked her e-mail five times, but there’d been nothing from her. She’d immediately checked it again when she got home from school. Still nothing. Grace had begun to wonder…and worry. Suddenly she simply
had
to hear back. But what if she was ignored?

After making herself a sandwich, going over the day’s events with her mom as she did the ironing, and exchanging wisecracks with her younger brother, Jude, Grace had gone back into her room and checked her e-mail again.

And there it was. It had arrived at 6:08. Eagerly, Grace clicked it open.

To:
Grace C. [
[email protected]
]

From:
Leslie Cavanaugh [
mailto:[email protected]
]

Subject:
Re: It’s me…Grace

Message:
Dear Grace,

First, let me tell you how happy I was to get your message. I’m glad you wrote to me, as I may as well be honest and say that I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to write to you. Your mother made it very clear why I shouldn’t, and she has every right to feel the way she does. At any rate, I’m glad you wrote. I do owe you an explanation, and I hope you’ll understand. It was not so much about you as it was about
me
. I lost my hold on myself, Leslie Phillips, when your dad died. She died with him. I couldn’t face reality, so I had to get away. I never made a conscious choice to stay away…but it…Oh, boy. This is a lot tougher than I thought it would be. We should be having this conversation face-to-face. How about if I came to visit you? We could meet. Don’t worry, Beth wouldn’t have to know. I’d check into a hotel and e-mail you the details. You could meet me there and we could talk. Let me know how that sounds to you and we’ll make it happen, okay? Oh, and one more thing…I really am so very sorry, Grace. You
have
to believe that.

Yours always,

Leslie

Reaching out, Grace Cunningham touched the closing on the screen:
Yours always,
Leslie
.

Chapter 26

West Palm Beach, Florida

Three days later

“
I’m flying out to Memphis this evening. I’ll be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, but I won’t be home right away. I’ll have to head straight to the office. I have two afternoon meetings I can’t miss.”

“Memphis? Do I smell a tearful reunion with the long-lost daughter I knew nothing about until last November?”

Leslie’s hand stilled on the latch of her small suitcase. She looked over at her husband. “Luke, please don’t.”

He’d strolled into their bedroom to find her packing. They hadn’t spoken all day. She hadn’t called him. He hadn’t called her.

Luke didn’t know who was more affected by the change in their marriage: the two of them…or Kate. Children were extremely perceptive creatures, and Kathryn was very much aware of the heightened tension between her parents in recent months.

“
Don’t what?” he snarled now, coming to stand beside her. He roughly grabbed her hands. “Don’t what, Leslie?

She didn’t look away. “Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. Gosh, I want so much to share this experience with you, to take down all the barriers between us, but you’re making it very difficult for me. Why can’t you be a little more understanding? A little more sensitive to my feelings?”

He gave a harsh laugh. “Your feelings? How sensitive have you been to mine?”

Now she did look away.

“Hmm?” Luke bent, moving to catch her eye again. “What about
my
feelings, for a change? Have you stopped for one minute to think about how this might be affecting me? Not to mention Kathryn?”

She looked at him. Her eyes softened. “Of course, Luke. I know this is hard for you…and for Kate. I can only imagine, but we have to deal with it, don’t we? We can’t just ignore it.”

“Can’t we? It seems you did a pretty decent job of ignoring it for fifteen years.”

Leslie pulled her hands from his. “Oh, don’t be cruel, Luke.” Then she stopped suddenly, struck by her words.

Don’t be cruel…

To a heart that’s true
.

Elvis.

Her heart skipped a beat. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her nose and upper lip.

“There she goes again,” Luke observed. “Zoned out.” He took her hands again, gently this time, and knelt before her. His face softened, and he begged, “
Tell me.
Please tell me what’s happening when you drift off like that…like just now. When I lose you. From the very first day we met in that leasing office, I’ve had to share you with whatever it is that triggers that look.” He held her gaze. “Where do you go?”

Leslie took a deep, calming breath. “You know that black shoulder bag I keep in the bottom drawer of the Chippendale?”

“Yes.”

“Get it.”

Luke rose and went into her large dressing room. He came back with the bag. Leslie reached in and took out some of the photos she’d kept.

“
Here,” she said handing him one of the small ones. “This is Jeffrey. My…Grace’s father.”

Luke took the photograph. Stared at it. He was in shock.

He looked back at Leslie. “This is Jeffrey?”

“
Yes.”

“
Shit, Leslie. He looks just like Evan.” Luke’s younger brother.

“
He looks just like you,” said Leslie. “When I first saw you, I thought I’d seen a ghost—the resemblance was creepy.”

“
My God,” Luke marveled, staring at the likeness. “It still is.”

Suddenly he looked at Leslie. Was that why she’d married him?

Luke couldn’t bring himself to ask.

She continued, “He loved Elvis. The movies, the concerts, the songs. Especially the songs…My God, he spun the vinyl off the records.” She clasped her hands. “So, of course, whenever I hear an Elvis song…it just…I just can’t…” Leslie shook her head, unable to continue.

Elvis Presley
.

Well, that explained a lot.

Luke recalled the “episodes,” Leslie’s odd and puzzling behavior over the years.

Like the Thanksgiving they’d spent with his family at his parents’ home down in Miami. Late that evening, with the football game running out of steam in the family room—their team losing—his father had started playing oldies in the den. For reasons Luke could never have understood until now, Leslie had vanished…simply vanished without saying a word. And everyone noticed it. When Luke found her, she was outside sitting in the car, looking like a lost kitten. Her reason for disappearing? A headache. He hadn’t believed her, but what else could it have been?

Now he knew.

Remembering, Luke dropped the photo and left the room.

Chapter 27

Memphis, Tennessee

When she arrived in Memphis, Leslie checked into the Courtyard by Marriott, ten minutes away from Beth and Billy’s home.

It was an eerie feeling, being in Memphis again after all the years that had gone by. She could feel the breath of the past in her lungs now, ever-present and heavy.