Tangled Webb (16 page)

I think Kelsey's the bravest person in the world. I could never have been that brave. Or that smart. I think she's just
wonderful
—and I might never have known that if I hadn't blown her cover. So in that way, it's a big relief to have the air cleared, and all the doubts and wrong guesses—the whole mystery mess—behind us. But I'll just
die
if she doesn't stay right here, and stay married to Daddy, so we can all be together.

The two of them are still a mile apart as to how that's going to happen. Daddy says the only way to be truly safe is to bring the whole thing out in the open, and settle it legally—put it into a lawyer's hands. Kelsey begs and pleads with him not to. She says they'll take Preston away.

But what if he does it anyhow? Will she have to give Preston back? Will they put her in jail? I don't
know
. And when I think about that, I don't see how she can ever forgive me for ruining everything. I don't see how Daddy can, either.

I don't even see how I can forgive myself.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 15

Nothing is settled yet. Far from it.

I talked to Pete again this morning, sitting beside him on our favorite park bench, which has a lot of open grass around it so you know nobody can overhear—same place we talked on Monday, the day after I blew the lid off.

Maybe I shouldn't be telling him all this private, family stuff. But he knows so much of it anyway, and Alison's gone, and I
have
to talk to somebody. I'm being sort of—ignored—at home. I mean, Daddy and Kelsey are mostly worrying about each other, and about Preston. Daddy has to go out on his jobs every day, and Kelsey mooches around the house with the walk-around phone in her pocket so she can take his clients' calls, and they both look like they're sleepwalking. I'm trying to be useful though invisible until they make up their minds how they feel about me. I mean, they probably can't decide whether I've done us all a favor, or just opened Pandora's box; and whichever it is they don't have time to think about it yet.

I don't blame them a bit. “I can't even decide that, myself,” I told Pete. “Because how do I know what's going to happen now?”

“What do you think's going to happen?” Pete asked.

“I think Daddy's going to talk to Mr. Adams—that's his lawyer—when Mr. Adams gets back from vacation Monday. He
says
he's going to. And when he says something in that tone of voice, kind of quiet and even, it means he
will.
”

“And Kelsey's still against it.”

“Dead set. She's terrified of dragging it all out in the open, to be decided by a judge. Judges give children back to their mothers—that's all she can think of. Daddy says it'll be different, now she's married and has a stable home. But if their marriage is going to be kind of rocky  . . .”

“You think it is?”

“I don't know,” I said miserably. I
felt
miserable. I still do. It isn't that Daddy doesn't understand everything Kelsey did—telling lies about her name and age and all. I mean, he realizes what she was up against. But I don't think he understands why she lied to
him
. He says, “Why didn't you tell me long ago?” And she says, “I
wanted
to. You don't know how much I wanted to! But I didn't dare, I couldn't let
anybody
know for fear it would get out, then they'd take Bitsy away. I couldn't let it happen. I
can't
let it happen. You don't know what it's like.”

And he sort of nods, but after a while he asks her again, maybe in different words. The way he'd figure—if she really loves him and knows he really loves her, why couldn't she trust him with the truth? He absolutely trusted
her
, and believed everything she said. So now he probably sort of feels like a fool. I think that's what hurts him. It would me.

Daddy probably trusts all sorts of people he shouldn't be trusting. I suppose that
is
being a fool. But, oh, I'd hate for him to change.

I didn't say any of this to Pete, of course. I have
some
sense
of family privacy. All I said was, “If only I'd never butted in! The whole mess is all my fault.”

“No, it is not,” Pete said in this severe, teachery tone of voice. “It is all Kelsey's mother's fault. Don't go getting over-emotional and sorry for yourself. That won't do any good.”

“Well, you don't need to bawl me out!” I snapped.

“Well, I think I did,” he said reasonably.

He may have been right. I guess I was kind of wallowing around in my own guilt feelings. It made sense to quit that, at any rate. I said, “So tell me what
will
do any good, if you're so smart.”

“We'll have to think,” Pete told me patiently. “We've both got brains. We'll have to use 'em.”

He didn't have any suggestions, though. “I wish Alison was here,” I said. Then I sort of heard how that sounded, and apologized.

But all Pete said was, “I know what you mean.”

So
he's
not much use to me so far. I wrote Alison day before yesterday and explained how things had turned out, and told her
strictly
never to say one word to
anyone, ever
, about our stupid mystery game. How I wish we'd never played it! How I wish Elizabeth Kenilworth had never come to our school at all! I'd have done better to spend that
entire period
on math.

I guess I'll go take Preston out for a buggy-ride. If it weren't for Preston, I'd feel like a sort of nonperson around this house. But
he
still likes me just the same.

MONDAY, AUGUST 19

Daddy's found a compromise. I guess. He phoned Mr. Adams today and made an appointment for Thursday, with Kelsey
right there hearing him do it, and biting her knuckles trying not to cry. I heard him, too. I didn't actually mean to, but I was just passing by on my way upstairs, and how could I help it? He wasn't trying to keep it private, the study door was wide open.

He didn't lower his voice, either, just said, “Honey, we've got to find out where we stand legally. I'm not going to betray you. I won't reveal a thing, I'll keep it theoretical. Ostensibly I'll be there on other business—to make small revisions in my clients' service contracts.”

“He won't believe you,” Kelsey all but whispered.

“He will. Trust me. You can, you know.”

Ouch. Kelsey didn't answer. I don't blame her. I don't blame her for worrying, either. How do you keep a question like that theoretical? Say it's for a friend? Mr. Adams has known Daddy for years, knows about our family—he was at the wedding. Seems to me the “friend's” new family would strike him as a good bit like ours. But Pete told me yesterday that even if he suspects anything—or everything—it won't matter.

“Won't
matter?
” I said.

“Not a bit. He won't tell anybody
else
. It'll be privileged information. Lawyers are like doctors.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“I'm going to
be
one.”

Yes, well. That doesn't prove anything about Daddy's plan. I only hope it works.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, EVENING

Maybe he's pulled it off.
He
thinks so, anyway. What Mr. Adams thinks is anybody's guess.

“Did you tell him it was for a friend?” I asked nervously. Believe me, I was as nervous as Kelsey.

“No.” Daddy looked at me. “I told him my daughter was writing a mystery, and needed to know.”

That shut my mouth, since I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Kelsey was surprised enough to be distracted for a moment.
“Are
you?” she asked.

“Well, I was,” I mumbled.

“Adams never questioned it,” Daddy told her. “And he gave me a considered and very encouraging answer.” He smiled down into Kelsey's anxious face. “He said in his opinion no court in the land would give Preston back into his mother's custody—unless her situation is vastly changed—and no court would prosecute a sibling for stepping in.”

I couldn't see that Kelsey was all that much relieved; she kept looking at him, chewing her lower lip, and obviously thinking hard. “That doesn't mean they'd give him to me, though.”

“Adams seemed to think they would. Unless—”

Kelsey pounced on that. “Unless what?”

“Well—unless your mother's situation is vastly changed,” Daddy repeated. Kelsey just waited. He shrugged and added, “Or unless some other family member should step in to oppose it. But that needn't worry—”

“I knew there'd be a joker,” Kelsey said.

“But darling, there's no such person around. Your father's God knows where—”

“There's Aunt Blanche.”

Daddy had forgotten about Aunt Blanche. Or discounted her, maybe. “But—wouldn't she be
glad
to see Preston properly cared for?”

“By a good foster family. Not by me!”

“I can't believe that.”

“Charley, she wouldn't trust me to care for a kitten properly. If there's trouble to make, she'll make it.” She went on, sounding desperate. Blanche had opposed her dad taking
her
that time—and he'd lost his case. She can't
talk
to Blanche. Blanche stonewalls her. Blanche won't
listen
. Not to her. “To her I'm just an ‘overemotional teenager.' And I'm ‘just like my father'—she's said that all my life, and what she means is unstable, unreliable, un-everything. I'm just a—a
nothing.
” Kelsey practically spat it out.

It seemed to be a stalemate. Daddy said finally, “There's only one way to be certain how she'll react—contact her and find out.”

Well, Kelsey panicked. I guess she's always felt intimidated by Blanche—and I know just why. “Charley, I can't! I won't! You don't know her—she'll just say I've proved it by doing this crazy thing I did—”

“But the court will see it as ‘stepping in,' ” Daddy said patiently. “Kelsey, we can't let Preston grow up thinking you're his mother. He's bound to find out different. Then
he'll
have a problem.”

“No, I—I'll explain. I'll make him understand. . . .”

It went on for quite a while. And ended when Daddy said, “You needn't have anything to do with it.
I'll
talk to your Aunt Blanche. What's the name of that firm she works for?”

Kelsey was quiet a minute and then said, “Charley, I won't tell you.”

After another minute that seemed to go on and on, and we all knew what was coming, Daddy turned and looked at me.

Because of course,
I
know. The name of the firm. Even Blanche's home phone number. And the truth is, I'm on Daddy's side. We've just got to get Preston for keeps, and the only way to do it is legally.

But he needn't think I'm going to rat on Kelsey. Not again. I just shook my head, and ran upstairs, and locked my door.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 24

Alison phoned me this evening. Oh, it was
great
to talk to her! And for a wonder Daddy had taken Kelsey to a movie—“to get her mind off it all” he said—and I'd already put Preston to bed so there was nothing to keep Alison and me from yakking as long and hard as we wanted. Except the phone bill, of course. But her dad had told her thirty minutes was the limit, and we managed to stop in only forty-five.

She'd got my letter, and I caught her up with the rest of what's happened, and then answered questions about Pete, and she told me a lot of stuff about concerts and the new school outfit her dad's bought her, and then we kind of ran down and just sat for a minute listening to the miles between us faintly humming over all those far-off wires.

Then she said, “The trouble is, he knows her last name, doesn't he?”

I didn't need to ask who she was talking about. “I guess so. He heard me say it—only once, though, that Sunday when I blew the whistle. He might have forgotten it.”

“If he hasn't, he could track her down in the phone book same as we did.”

“I don't think he's tried. I think he wants Kelsey to change her mind.”

“He'll get tired of that.”

“Yes, well, power to him, then. But it won't be
my
fault.”

Alison was silent a minute—analyzing my character, I could tell. “You want him to find Blanche,” she decided.

“I guess so. I don't
know
. He'd probably spill everything in the first five minutes—what our name is and where we live and
everything
. He's so
honest
. Then what if she decided to make trouble? There'd be nothing to stop her.”

“So you
don't
want him to find her, or her to find you—you just want to know what she'd do?”

“Yeah,” I said.

There was another little silence, while our great minds ran in the same channel. “So?” said Alison. “You better ask her.”

I didn't bother to explode with
Me? What are you talking about? Why me? I can't phone her again, she'd kill me!
—though it was all on the tip of my tongue. Alison would just argue me down with the same arguments I've been hearing inside my head the whole past couple of days.
I
knew how to get hold of Blanche,
I
wouldn't give anything away. She couldn't
really
kill me over the phone. I said, “You always have such great ideas. For
me.”

I could practically hear Alison shrug. “Just don't tell her anything. Say you have to know how she feels about it. She'll come around. Lemme know how it turns out,” she added.