The China Doll
Authors: Deborah Nam-Krane
Tags: #mystery, #college, #boston, #family secrets, #new adult
The China Doll
Book Three of The New Pioneers
by Deborah Nam-Krane
Smashwords edition | © 2014
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Someone Who Knew How To Get
Things Done
Jessie Bartolome
—Jessie had seen through
everyone since she was fifteen. The only person she knew she could
always trust was Richard
Martin Shepard
—Mitch Graham's best friend
Richard Hendrickson
—Jessie- and Michael's-
cousin, the big brother Miranda and Emily never had, Zainab's
boyfriend and finally in charge of his own life
Zainab Oginabe-Kensit
—Richard's girlfriend,
Emily's best friend and Jessie's former caretaker
Emily Graham
—Zainab's best friend, Mitch's
wife, mother of two-year-old Helen and Richard's right-hand
colleague
Mitchell Graham
—Emily's husband, Helen's
father and a newly minted attorney
Miranda Harel
—She'd do anything for Jessie to
forgive her for Michael. Did that include marrying Alex?
Alex Sheldon
—Once Boston's Most Eligible
Bachelor, all he wanted was Miranda. (Being unavailable had its
advantages.)
Joanna Hazlett
—How did Alex compel the
professor to betray Emily to him?
Robert Lester
—Joanna's new Teaching
Assistant
Lucy Bartolome Hendrickson
—Richard's mother
and Jessie's aunt. The only person more powerful than her was
Alex
Michael Abbot
—Richard's cousin, Alex's former
ward and the ex-husband Miranda pined for
Gone, but not forgotten
Gerald Hendrickson
—Jim and Annabelle's
father
John Bartolome
—The son of a Boston Leighton
and a Louisiana Bartolome
Jim Hendrickson
—Gerald's son, Lucy's husband
and Richard's father
Tom Bartolome
—Lucy's brother, Josie's husband
and Jessie's father
Josie Bartolome
—Tom's wife and Jessie's
mother
Stephen Abbot
—Michael's father and Alex
Sheldon's best friend
Annabelle Hendrickson Abbot
—Gerald's daughter,
Stephen's wife and Michael's mother
For all of those who survived…and to the
memory of those who didn't
Things Done
During one morning in the fall of 1980,
Gerald Hendrickson was eating breakfast alone, again. His daughter
Annabelle had come home the night before, but she’d gotten in very
late. Gerald had already turned in for the night, but he was still
awake in bed when she came in. He heard her soft laughter and then
some unintelligible whispering. He’d heard Stephen's voice too, but
then Annabelle had shushed him. He heard the two of them
reluctantly kiss goodnight, and then the door closed. Had it been a
few hours earlier, he might have come out to lecture the both of
them. However, it was quite late, and he’d been too tired to create
a scene. Plus, although he was loath to admit it in the cold light
of day, he liked seeing his beloved daughter happy. Stephen Abbot
was absolutely not the man he would have chosen for her, but he was
old enough to know that you can’t always choose for your children,
even when you know what's best for them.
Stephen Abbot, in his own right, might have
been tolerable. He certainly wasn’t the only young man his age who
had trouble controlling his indulgences. Gerald was grudgingly
impressed that since he’d started dating Annabelle, Stephen hadn’t
been seen out and about with anyone else. Impressed, but not
surprised—Annabelle had a very well-developed sense of dignity that
demanded nothing less. And Gerald, in his day, had been known to
put away his fair share of liquor, and probably in greater
quantities than young Mister Abbot.
It was the older Mister Abbot that Gerald
really did not approve of. He’d heard some frankly ugly rumors
about Michael Abbot. He wasn’t concerned about any of them where
Annabelle was concerned—if the rumors held true, she was too old
for him, and Michael had the ability to control himself in public.
Still, it was evident even to Gerald how much Stephen visibly
withered in his father’s presence. It was evident to Annabelle as
well, and Gerald couldn’t help but wonder if that contributed to
Stephen’s charm. Was marriage imminent? If so, Gerald hoped without
any remorse that Michael Abbot’s health was indeed as poor as it
looked to be.
"Good morning, father," Jim said cheerfully
when he came in.
"Good morning, Jim," Gerald replied,
suppressing his smile. He loved Annabelle for being headstrong and
independent. He loved his oldest Jim for being agreeable,
dependable and otherwise always doing the right thing. "And what
are you off to today?"
Jim chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "Same
thing as always, Dad. Duty calls."
Jim had no taste for finance. He’d inherited
his late mother’s intense curiosity, and had gone into engineering,
much to his father’s dismay. However, he had been gratified to see
him promoted to Chief Technical Officer of his company. The
Hendrickson name, he thought, should be recognized for
something.
The Hendrickson name should also be carried
on. "And when was the last time you spoke to Lucy Bartolome?"
Jim stopped eating his toast and looked up.
"Last week, Dad," he said quietly. "As I told you. And as I told
you then, I don’t think she’s interested in me."
"Don’t settle, Jimmy," Gerald said in a rare
show of exasperation. "Sometimes you have to work hard to get what
you want."
"Maybe, Dad," Jim said as he put on his coat,
"but you shouldn’t have to work
too
hard. I’ll be home same
time, alright?"
"Have a good day, Jimmy." Jim smiled as he
walked out the door. Gerald sighed. He was proud of his son, but
there were some things he’d change if he could. Gerald knew that
Jim had been in love with Lucy Bartolome since they’d gone to
college together. She’d been the University’s
It Girl
, and
not least because her Grandfather Leighton was one of the founders.
Maybe most of her would-be suitors weren’t good enough for John
Bartolome, but Jim was. Still, she showed no interest in his son.
But that was fine for now, because Gerald wasn’t nearly as good at
taking "
no
" for an answer as Jim was.
Gerald knew that his time on this earth was
limited. Death was not imminent, but he could certainly see it.
Annabelle wasn’t going to have any Hendricksons, obviously. That
duty fell to Jim. Lucy, blonde, bright and dynamic, would be a
perfect Hendrickson mother. And really, who was she to be so picky?
Her mother had been a Leighton, but she’d married this Bartolome
from Louisiana—Louisiana! Gerald had no tolerance for John’s airs.
Plus there was Tom, Lucy’s older brother. He was yet another
subject of ugly rumors. So who was Lucy to look down her nose at
Jim?
Frustrated, Gerald pushed away his food and
walked over to the window. All of these kids—and that’s what they’d
always be to him—had trouble seeing everything clearly. Not one of
them knew how to get things done. Then Gerald smiled. There was
one: Alex Sheldon. Gerald knew Annabelle didn’t like him, but she’d
have to accept that he came with the Stephen package. Not even a
bad thing as far as Gerald was concerned, because he’d attributed
most of Stephen’s cleverness, such as there was, to Alex’s
influence. And Alex had a special something that none of the other
kids did. He was ambitious, and God love him for it. He needed to
be. He was a young man waiting for his opportunity, but Gerald
could see that he didn’t just wait. He measured, calculated,
tested. He was someone who knew how to get things done.
"Possibly," he murmured to himself at last,
and then he smiled.
"Stop hogging the birthday girl!" Miranda
Harel said playfully as she swept little Helen Louise Graham out of
Richard Hendrickson’s arms. "You want to see your Aunty Randy,
don’t you, Baby?" Miranda said as she rubbed noses with the little
girl.
Richard sighed. "I guess Uncle Rich should
help Daddy with the cake now anyway." He kissed Helen on the cheek,
and then looked back over his shoulder at the two of them as he
walked away. He would have liked to play with Helen for a few more
minutes, but he didn’t want to begrudge his oldest friend time with
her. From the day she was born, little Helen was the magic charm
that kept Miranda’s heart together.
He shuddered when he remembered how
devastated and broken she’d been in the months after she’d ended
her marriage to his cousin Michael Abbot. She wouldn’t eat, leave
her room or talk to anyone. At that point she couldn’t even cry
anymore. And she was in his house. Richard had always been able to
fix things with Michael and Jessie, no matter how awful or wild
they’d been. But he had thought that he was going to have to watch
Miranda literally die before his eyes. That’s why he’d called Alex.
He imagined what Michael would have done if he’d known. It hadn’t
been Richard’s first choice. But he knew that there were only two
people who would ever get her to leave her room, and Michael was
not an option, obviously. And Richard told himself, guiltily, that
Alex owed all of them. It was the least he could do.
He came into his kitchen to find Mitchell
Graham struggling with the cake box. He looked up, exhausted.
"Okay, Richard. You can build solar cars, but can you open this
thing without destroying the cake? Because I’m out of ideas and
Emily will beat me up if anything happens to this cake."
Richard laughed. Mitch had just graduated
from law school two months ago, and in addition to starting a new
job with extreme hours, he was also cramming for the bar. On top of
that, they’d just closed on their condo in Brookline. Richard had
overheard Emily complaining to Zainab that Mitch had the nerve to
try and beg off of his own daughter’s birthday party. Richard had
stayed out of that conversation. It did seem to him that everything
should take a backseat to Helen, but he also understood how much
pressure Mitch was under.
"I think I’ve got that," Richard said,
patting Mitch on the shoulder. After a minute, he had the intricate
cake box open. "
Voila
!"
"Ahem!" Jessie Bartolome, Richard’s younger
cousin, strode into the kitchen and put her hands on her hips. "Do
you think we can get this show on the road here, guys? People are
whining, and I’m not talking about the two-year-old."