Part 9 (1/2)
They went to the kitchen. CJ steeped a pot of ginseng, and they retreated to the sofas, where Luna curled up at Jonas's feet. He petted the dog gently, asked how she was doing. The scene tugged at CJ's heart: no one knew she'd adopted Luna because Elinor wouldn't allow Jonas to have a dog.
”Too messy.”
”Too much work.”
”No point,” Elinor had said when Jonas had left for boarding school at age twelve.
So when CJ had moved to the cottage, Luna had joined her. The Lab offered a beloved canine connection whenever Jonas had a chance to stop by.
”What's going on, CJ? What has my mother done?”
”I'm not really sure. Tell me what you know.”
”I think she's having an affair. Is she?”
CJ averted her eyes. ”Perhaps you'd better ask her.”
”Are you kidding? Me? Ask the b.u.t.toned-up Elinor Harding Young-the woman who used her maiden name before anyone else did, who wouldn't discuss Janice's abortion because she found it 'unpleasant,' who suggested I 'mind my own business' when I asked why she and Dad sleep in separate bedrooms-you want me to ask that woman if she's having an affair?”
Mac and Elinor slept in separate bedrooms? If CJ had been Poppy, she might have gasped.
She hauled her thoughts back to Jonas, to the subject-of-the-moment, to the fact that he was still so little-boy cute when he was befuddled. His freckles grew more p.r.o.nounced; his dimples-his dents, he'd once called them-seemed to sink more adorably into his cheeks.
CJ's creativity; Malcolm's dimples.
She cleared her throat. ”Jonas,” she said, ”I know it's not easy. But if your mother is having an affair, she probably wants to keep it to herself.”
”But she's being blackmailed!”
Along with Jonas's creativity came sensitivity, a need to protect the people he loved. Another thing CJ had pa.s.sed down to him. ”Are you sure?” she asked slowly. Maybe he'd simply overheard E on the phone.... Maybe...
”I saw the d.a.m.n note! It was in her pocketbook. It's not like I go in there, but I was looking for the garage keys. And there it was, with letters that looked like they'd been cut out of a magazine. It said something about lavender lace panties and a half million dollars.” He chugged his tea as if it were a beer.
If she'd spent her adult life in Was.h.i.+ngton as Elinor had, CJ might have known how to respond more adroitly, might have been more adept at verbal ping-pong.
”Do you know about this?” Jonas asked before she had conjured a response.
Well, she couldn't lie, of course, not when asked a direct question. ”I know you need to trust that everything really will turn out okay.”
He squared his jaw and folded his hands. ”And my dad doesn't know?”
”Not that I'm aware of.”
”Well, she's really done it now, hasn't she? Just in time for my engagement party.” He no doubt was remembering when Elinor had missed the first high school play he had stage-managed, or when she'd mistakenly scheduled the ladies' cruise to Bermuda the same weekend as his Broadway debut. For someone who had wanted another child so badly, Elinor often forgot Jonas existed when her agenda was deemed more important.
He stood up. ”So I guess she doesn't want input from me.”
CJ stood, too. ”She'll figure it out, Jonas.” She gently touched his sleeve, as if it were his heart and she could mend it.
”And I shouldn't tell Janice.”
”No.”
”Or my father.”
”No.”
”And you want me to stay out of it.”
”Yes.”
”For my father's sake?”
”And your mother's. It will be for the best.”
”I love them both, but I'm not sure I can do that.” He kissed her cheek again and let himself out, and CJ started to ache.
”I'd like to speak with the vice president,” Elinor said, when she'd finally screwed up her nerve, located his number from Malcolm's long list of contacts, and steadied her hand long enough to punch in the numbers.
It was late afternoon-she'd thought about this all day. She'd paced the house and the grounds of the Mount Kasteel estate and landed in the living room, next to the sideboard that held the crystal pitcher that had come from Remy way back when.
She'd had one phone call from Alice, telling her they hadn't learned anything concrete at the Lord Winslow, but there was a lead they would follow up on tomorrow.
Elinor didn't ask for specifics: she was too preoccupied thinking about Remy.
He needed to know what was going on. She convinced herself that if word leaked out, it would affect his life, too. His wife's life, his daughter's. The life of the whole d.a.m.n nation.
Well, maybe not the whole nation. The blue states would love it; the red states would be livid.
”This is Mrs. Young. Elinor Young. The vice president has spoken with me about my recommendations for national health care matters.”
”I'm sorry, the vice president is occupied. If you'd care to leave your number...”
Remy, of course, never returned phone calls; he had ”people” to do that for him. He often joked that the last time he'd dialed a phone was when there had been actual dials, not b.u.t.tons. He didn't have a private cell phone, either. He said they weren't very ”private,” at least not for a VP.
Which was, of course, why-after nearly seven months into their affair-he always made contact through an obscure, handwritten invitation or a mysterious call: ”The toilets will arrive tomorrow at one o'clock. Your driver will pick you up and bring you to the delivery area.”
The driver, of course, was Remy's driver. The delivery area was never disclosed. Elinor had learned to simply stand on the sidewalk in front of her town house and wait for the long black limo and the driver who only tipped his hat and never even said h.e.l.lo or good-bye.
Even their New York connections had been cloak-and-dagger, spy-novel stuff, coinciding with Remy's twice-monthly meetings at the United Nations. She would check into the suite (the same one every time) and spend all afternoon, evening, and sometimes into the night wondering when-if-he would show up for their hour of bliss, give or take.
She shuddered a little. Was her cell number now displayed on the caller ID screen at Remy's admin's desk? But this was the first time she'd called. Surely it would be safe.
”It's rather urgent,” Elinor said. ”There's been a change in directives that will affect our next meeting.” She was both amused and impressed by her ciphered message.
There was a pause, then the admin said, ”One moment, please.”