Sapphire and Shadow (A Woman's Life) (23 page)

“I’ll bet, “ Mary snorted, dismissing the flimsy excuse. “On a scale of one to ten?”

Johanna looked up and grinned. She couldn’t help it. “Nineteen.”

“And you’re giving this up?” Mary clutched at her heart and pretended to fall backwards.

The smile faded as serious thoughts came into play. “It’s not a matter of giving up.”

“He has someone else?”

“No.”

“You have someone else?”

“No.”

Mary threw up her hands in exasperation. “Then what, for heaven’s sake?”

“This is like a summer romance, Mary, an awakening. But fall is coming.”

“So get warmer clothes. I’ll mail you some.” How could Johanna be giving up happiness after what she had been through with that slime? It didn’t make any sense to Mary. Johanna was a woman who needed commitment as much as she needed air to breathe. That was the basic difference between them. Mary didn’t.

Johanna shook her head. “You always did tend to oversimplify. I have to get on with my life, find out what I can do as a person, get a job—no,” she amended fiercely, “get a career.”

It still didn’t make any sense to Mary. “Have you been sleeping with Frank Sinatra records? I Gotta Be Me?” she clarified when Johanna stared at her.

“No, but Frank has the right idea.”

“He never had a guy like Tommy hanging around him.”

“No, I imagine if he did, he’d have one of his bodyguards haul him away.”

The two started to giggle and then laugh until Johanna held her sides, laughing helplessly and nearly falling off the bench.

“God, it’s good seeing you again.” Johanna wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to laugh this way. To feel this way.”

“Welcome back to the real world, Johanna.” Mary squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “You’ve been gone much too long.”

“Yes,” Johanna agreed, “yes, I have.” She rose to her feet and looked down at Mary, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Do you want to do a few laps in the pool?”

“No, but I’ll float while you lap.”

“Ever the athlete.”

Unfazed, Mary got to her feet. “I told you, I save myself for other indoor sports.”

The door to the gym opened and closed, echoing in the large hall. They both turned and saw Jocelyn walking in quickly. Mary gestured for her niece to come over, calling out, “Over here, kid. I thought you were visiting your friend in the next suite.”

Jocelyn crossed to them quickly. It was Mary who she joined, looking relieved to see her aunt. She cast nervous eyes toward her mother and Johanna instantly knew that something was wrong and it wasn’t going to be an easy matter to brush off.

She put her hands on Jocelyn’s shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

Jocelyn swallowed and thrust a newspaper at het, the tears she had held back rising up instantly. “Is it true, Mom? Is it true?”

“Is what true, honey?” Nervous, Johanna took the paper from her. She glanced down at the front page, her mind still on her daughter’s distress. “I can’t tell you until I— Omigod!”

“What?” Mary circled to stand on her toes and look over Johanna’s shoulder at the newspaper. “Wow!” Her immediate reaction was to put her arm around her niece as Johanna read the first few paragraphs of the story. Harry’s picture took up more than a quarter of the page. He was wearing handcuffs and flanked by two policemen.

“They can’t arrest daddy, can they?” Jocelyn cried, her tears spilling down her face. Arrest seemed so final, so frightening.

Johanna pressed her lips together. Harry had been arrested for possession of cocaine while entering the country.

The fool, the pompous fool.

She hated him for this, not because of any feelings she had left for him. There were none, she knew that now. It was as if a portion of her had been opened up and what had been there had just flowed out of her. There was no love, no anger for what he had done to her. But she hated him for the look in Jocelyn’s eyes. How could he? How could he put himself into such a position, knowing that it would effect his daughter?

“I’m afraid they can, Jocey.”

“We have to help him!” Jocelyn pleaded.

Johanna drew her close and exchanged looks with Mary over her daughter’s head. To Jocelyn, Harry was still the wonderful father who brought home gifts from his travels, the father who, though he might not have time for her as often as she liked, shared secrets with her, let her do things her mother would only disapprove of. He treated her like an adult, not like a child the way her mother did. He never said no, always said give it a try, and he gave her that extra shove when she wanted it, even though she was frightened at times.

Johanna knew all this, knew the enemy she faced in Harry, knew he did it not from indulgence, but from a lack of concern as to the consequences. She had found out that it was Harry who had given Megan that marijuana joint she had smelled in Jocelyn’s room the night she had almost committed suicide. Had given it to the girl knowing that she would probably share it with Jocelyn. It was like giving his permission for Jocelyn to be reckless. He did it not because he wanted her to sample life but because he didn’t care.

But Jocelyn could never know that. It would hurt much too deeply.

“I was going to call our lawyer anyway,” Johanna said to Jocelyn. “I’ll just make the call a little earlier, that’s all.”

“This isn’t going to change your mind, is it?” Mary’s voice was low, her eyes carrying her meaning even if her words couldn’t at the moment.

“No,” Johanna answered, stroking Jocelyn’s hair, “it’s only made me realize how right I am about all of this.” She looked down into Jocelyn’s upturned face. “C’mon, honey, dry your eyes. We’ll see what we can do to straighten out this mess.”

“They shouldn’t have been going through his things,” Jocelyn said vehemently, her hands clenched into fists.

She couldn’t let it go, not even now. “No, he shouldn’t have been carrying what he was carrying,” Johanna said quietly.

Jocelyn stiffened and pulled back. “You’ve always been against him.”

“No.” Johanna refused to let her daughter back away. “I’ve always been the one in his corner. He just never realized it, that’s all. Let’s go upstairs, Jocey. I’ve got calls to make.”

Chapter Twenty-four

There was no more anger, no more pain, only pity. Johanna felt only pity for Harry. And pity on its own was a dreadful thing. It spelled the end of everything between Harry and Johanna.

It set her free.

Still, there were things to be done because of the past and because he was Jocelyn’s father. She called their lawyer as soon as she read the article. Sidney Montaigne was a short, bald, overweight little man who tended to wear bow ties and vests and to think a great deal of himself. He had a right to the latter. Fussy, opinionated, sharp-tongued, he was still the best in his field. Harry paid a great deal to keep the man on retainer. And Sid, Johanna thought, was about to earn every penny of that sum.

Sid wasn’t happy to receive her transatlantic call. He was one step ahead of her, having read the story, courtesy of UPI, in the morning paper. But responsibility was the cornerstone of his reputation and he had spent a long time cultivating his image. “I’ll get the next flight out of LAX to Heathrow.”

She could hear the displeasure in his voice. “I’ll be there to meet you.” And now for the bombshell. “And Sid—“

“Yes?” The single word was rimmed with impatience. Sid, a born and bred New Yorker from the Bronx, was always in a hurry and had no tolerance for people who couldn’t keep up.

“Bring divorce papers with you.”

Any mental calculations he was doing about the effects of the trip on his already overcrowded schedule came to an abrupt halt. “For whom?”

She could just see his expression. For some reason, it pleased her. She had never really like the man. “Guess.”

“Johanna.” He exhaled a loud sigh. It was the same sigh that intimidated the law clerks at the firm. Johanna was impervious to it. “This is a rotten time to make jokes in poor taste.”

While Sid did not openly worship the dollar, she knew that he thought walking away from it was tantamount to being labeled certifiably insane. Fine, she thought, you marry Harry. I’ve had it. “I’m not joking, Sid. I’m very, very serious.”

In his experience, women tended to run, frightened, taking the family jewels at the first hint of trouble. Sid’s line of work did not make him an optimist about human nature. “Look, he’ll beat this wrap, Johanna. He’ll ride it out.”

“Maybe, with you in his corner, but I won’t be there to see it.”

Another nasty divorce with its accompanying mudslinging. “Don’t do anything hasty, Johanna,” he counseled.

“Ten years in the making isn’t anything hasty, Sid. It’s slow. Damn slow.” She didn’t owe him an explanation, but she gave it anyway. “This isn’t because of the scandal that might be whipped up. This has been a long time in coming. I was going to call you today anyway. I’d already made up my mind. That Harry was stupid enough to bring cocaine in his luggage is beside the point. That he was stupid enough to bring it into his life is the point. It changed him, changed him so much that I don’t even know him. I don’t want to know him.” She lowered her voice and turned from where Jocelyn and Mary were sitting on the sofa, watching her. “And he’s a bad influence on Jocelyn. I’m bailing out not just for me, but for her.”

“But—“

“Don’t worry, Sid. I don’t want anything from him. Not a dime. All I want is Jocelyn. In exchange for that, I want him to keep away from her. Those are the terms of my settlement.” Distance entered her voice. There was no one to fight her battles for her. She had to do it all alone. The independence was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. “If you don’t want to handle this, I’ll get someone who will.”

“Calm down, Johanna, calm down.” She could almost see the man mopping his bald head. He always seemed to sweat profusely when he was agitated. “I’ll be there and we’ll talk.”

We can talk all you want
, she thought. It won’t change anything. “Bring the papers.”

“I’ll bring the papers,” he promised. “Sheila will call you with my flight number and the arrangements once she makes them.”

Johanna thought of talking to Sid’s humorless secretary. Something else to live for. “Fine.” She straightened her shoulders. There. It was out in the open now. And there was no turning back. Relief made her feel almost giddy. “I’ll see you then. ‘Bye.” She hung up, then turned to see her sister giving her the high sign.

Johanna had no sooner placed the receiver back in the cradle than the phone started to ring. And ring. And ring. There seemed to be no end to the incoming calls. Each time she answered, there was another member of the press asking her for a statement about Harry’s arrest that morning.

They wanted to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. They wanted to photograph her and Jocelyn. They wanted to interview her at the jail. They wanted to dissect her mind, examine everything beneath a microscope for the eleven o’clock news back home. Johanna felt as if she was under siege.

When the phone rang for the twentieth time, Mary held up her hand. “I’ll get this one.” There was fire in her eyes as she jerked the receiver up from the cradle. “Look, you scumsucking lowlife—oh, hello.”

If Johanna didn’t know any better, she would have said that her sister was embarrassed. But then, Mary was never embarrassed. She was one of the lucky ones who sailed right through life without a backward glance and no regrets. Ever.

Mary put her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s Tommy. He wants to know if he can come over and be of any help. He saw the article.”

“The world saw the article,” Johanna muttered, weary.

She knew she was being weak. She shouldn’t accept or ask for help from him. There wouldn’t be any in a few days when she left for the States, destination still unknown. But she couldn’t deny herself seeing Tommy one more time. She crossed over to the telephone and held out her hand. Mary gave her the receiver.

“Hello, Tommy?”

“I just saw the paper. How are you holding up?”

She smiled ruefully as she wound the cord around her finger and then let it go again. “This must have been what it was like to be a fortress about to be stormed by the Vikings.”

“That bad?” It wasn’t pity in his voice. It was compassion and it fortified her. And made her warm.

“That bad.”

“I’ll be right over.” There was no arguing with his tone of voice. It was firm.

Still, she wanted to spare him. It wouldn’t be long before the reporters set up camp in the lobby, or at least outside the hotel. She had seen it happen many times before. Nothing like a scandal to bring the vultures out. “Do you think you should?”

“It’s my Ivanhoe training, remember? I can’t turn my back on a lady in distress. Besides, I’ve got broad shoulders. Maybe you’ll find yourself wanting to lean on them for a while.”

She closed her eyes, suddenly bone weary. “Oh God, yes.”

“I’ll saddle up the white charger and be right over. Hang in there, Johanna.”

His words were like a physical touch. She drew comfort from them. “I will. ‘Bye. And thanks.”

“None necessary. You know that.”

“Yes, I know.”

She felt a little uncertain about having Tommy come over to the hotel because of Jocelyn. Her daughter might be sensitive to having another man over, a man her mother was seeing, while her father was languishing in prison—no matter how much he might deserve it. But her worries were groundless. Jocelyn turned to Tommy like an old friend coming to the aid of the cause as soon as he walked through the door.

“Tommy.” She rushed up to him. “They’ve got my dad. Can you help us?”

Easily, Tommy slung an arm around the small shoulders. “I’m here to give you and your Mum some moral support.”

“Will that help?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know.” He looked at Johanna. “Will it?”

She offered him a warm, grateful smile. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt.” Her words were blocked out by an insistent knock on the door. She drew in a sharp breath, bracing herself for another onslaught of reporters, local and foreign.

“It’s as if they smell blood and are in a feeding frenzy,” she moaned.