The Gifted (14 page)

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Authors: Gail Bowen

BOOK: The Gifted
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“I didn’t realize that Julian was one of many,” I said.

“Neither did I, until Julian filled me in. Apparently, Lauren’s been unfaithful to my father for years. She told Julian all about the other boys. She said she had to stay in the marriage, but she needed a little excitement on the side. In Lauren’s eyes, Julian’s predecessors were just diversions, but Julian is the real thing. Lauren told him that he’s the man with whom she wants to spend the rest of her life.”

“But Julian doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Lauren,” I said.

“Julian has other plans,” Celeste said dryly.

My pulse quickened. “Do Julian’s plans involve someone else?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that Julian is anxious to get on with his future and Lauren is standing in his way.”

“And Julian thinks that if Vince knows about the other boys, Lauren’s only option will be to stay in the marriage?” I said. “You’ve lost me.”

“Lauren likes money,” Celeste said. “She’s counting on my father to subsidize her life with Julian.”

“Through alimony,” I said.

Celeste nodded. “Julian wants my father to know about the other boys so he can deny Lauren the kind of alimony she’ll demand.”

“And she’ll be forced to stay in the marriage,” I said. “But that isn’t what you want and surely it won’t be what Vince wants.”

“According to Julian, when my father hit Lauren, he virtually gave her a blank cheque. Once my father knows about Lauren’s extramarital romantic escapades, that blank cheque will be null and void. Joanne, I know my father. He’ll be fair with Lauren. She’ll be very comfortable for the rest of her life, but she won’t be able to bleed him dry.”

“So you invited me to lunch because you want me to pass this information along to Vince.”

“I was hoping you’d ask Zack to do it. They’re old friends, and Zack is my father’s lawyer. My father will need a strategy for dealing with Lauren, and my dad says Zack is brilliant. Will you talk to him?”

“Of course,” I said. “I hope Vince appreciates how deeply you love him.”

“I keep hoping that, too,” Celeste said.

The server brought our gyoza and the bowls of dipping sauce. Celeste had her father’s hands, graceful and long-fingered, and she was adept at handling chopsticks. The business of eating and praising our food was a welcome distraction.

When the server cleared our plates and brought the yakitori chicken and kushiyaki, Celeste seemed finally to relax. She picked up the hot sauce and sprinkled it on her food. “You know, for the first time in a long time, I’m actually hungry.”

After we’d finished our meal and had our final cup of tea, Celeste took care of the bill, and we put on our jackets and left the restaurant. On the street, Celeste touched my arm. “I’m so glad you came today,” she said. “And thanks for agreeing to talk to Zack.”

She began to turn away, but I stopped her. “Celeste, what kind of man is Julian Zentner? I’m not just asking out of curiosity. Julian is getting close to our daughter, and it’s starting to seem that he wants to get closer. Taylor is just turning fifteen, and Zack and I are concerned.”

Celeste’s ice-blue eyes, so like her father’s, flashed. “You should be concerned,” she said. “I have no idea what kind of man Julian is. I doubt if he even knows himself. He changes. Last night when we were talking about the Lauren situation, Julian was all boyish awkwardness – not quite sure how he got himself into such a mess but trying finally to do
the right thing. He was very charming. And when he’s working with the rest of the staff, he’s just Joe Ordinary – a young guy trying to get through the shift. But when he’s working a table, especially if the customers are all women, you can just about hear the panties drop.”

“He becomes the man he needs to be to make the situation work for him,” I said. “A shapeshifter.”

“And an accomplished one,” Celeste agreed. “Convincing an innocent fifteen-year-old girl that she needs him in her life would be child’s play for Julian.” On that unsettling note, Celeste jammed her toque over her butterscotch hair, lit her cigarette, and strode to her car.

As soon as I got into the Volvo, I turned my cell back on. It rang immediately. It was Zack. “Where have you been?” he said. “I was getting worried.”

“I was having lunch with Celeste Treadgold,” I said. “With my cell turned off. You should try it some time.”

“I wish I’d tried it today,” Zack said. “Margot phoned half an hour ago. Riel has resigned from Racette-Hunter.”

“Well, I guess we could see that one coming,” I said. “Has anybody talked to him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zack said. “Riel delivered his resignation verbally.”

“To you?”

“No,” Zack said. “To Margot. He came to her condo. Margot says he was higher than a kite.”

My heart sank.

“Margot thinks he’d done a few lines of cocaine. According to her, his behaviour was textbook. He was euphoric, energetic, and eager to talk and talk and talk. Margot said if she hadn’t asked him to leave, he’d still be at her place praising his amazing talents as a community organizer and railing about Brock and the rest of us.”

“Shit,” I said. “Has anyone called Mieka?”

“No,” Zack said. “Margot wanted to alert her, but I thought you and I should tell Mieka face to face. That’s not a message to deliver over the telephone.”

“Agreed,” I said. “So, I’m ten minutes from Halifax Street. Shall I just come home and we can take it from there?”

“That makes sense,” Zack said. “I’m at Margot’s.”

I arrived at Margot’s
in medias res
. I had concerns of my own: Celeste’s observations about Julian were unsettling, as were her revelations about Lauren’s plans. However, it was clear that Margot and Zack had been debating the appropriate response to Riel’s situation for a while, so I bit my tongue and listened.

“We all know that Riel has used in the past,” Zack said. “But he’d been clean for three years and he said he was finished with drugs. It’s possible that today was a one-shot deal. It’s also possible that the last few weeks have been stressful for Riel and he’s opted for better living through chemistry.”

Margot’s face was distressed. “I hate this,” she said.

“So do I,” Zack said. “We’ll offer Riel whatever support he wants, but we have to make certain the public knows that Riel has resigned and is no longer on the Racette-Hunter payroll. If it gets out that our poster boy has a very expensive habit, we’re going to have trouble with fundraising.”

I felt completely exhausted. “This is all wrong,” I said. “Since Riel and Mieka got together, I’ve considered him part of the family. It hasn’t been perfect, but we can’t just cut him loose.”

Margot nodded. “I agree. And Leland said if Riel hadn’t been willing to sit down with him and work out a compromise, the Village Project would have been finished before it began.” Margot picked up a glass of milk on the table beside her and took a sip. “After Leland died, working on that
TV
show was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt like my brain
had shattered into a thousand pieces. But Riel was there. He told me he’d read that grief literally stops thought. Then he shepherded me through all those interviews and meetings. I’m grateful to him, especially if
For the Common Good
has the potential Jo thinks it has.”

“The potential’s going to be shot to hell if the public learns that one of the principals is a cokehead,” Zack said. “I know that sounds harsh, but we can’t let our concern about Riel jeopardize Racette-Hunter. This can’t get out. I’ll talk to Riel.”

“Can you hold off until we tell Mieka?” I said.

Zack covered my hand with his. “Okay, but, Jo, we don’t have the luxury of waiting for the right moment. This has to be dealt with fast.”

CHAPTER
7

At any hour of the day, in any season of the year, UpSlideDown is a good place to be. The idea behind the business is simple. There are times when all parents deserve to get out of the house for an hour or so, kick back with a cup of joe, and watch their kids play with other kids in a bright, safe space filled with toys. UpSlideDown was located in an affluent area very different from the North Central neighbourhood where April’s Place would soon be opened. Here, the hour after lunch seemed always to be the father’s hour. That November day, the dads were out in force: hunched over laptops, sipping coffee, and casting an occasional look around the room to make certain that Ethan or Chloe or Moses or Zenaya were still present and relatively content.

Several kid-sized tables had been pulled together and set up for a birthday party. I took off my jacket, picked up a pack of paper plates decorated with dinosaurs, handed Zack the matching napkins and paper cups, and we began to set the table. It didn’t take us long.

Mieka came from the back with two shopping bags full of toys. She eyed the table. “Well done,” she said. “Thanks.”
She handed both Zack and me a shopping bag. “We have to get these Dino-Roars out of their boxes before the kids arrive,” she said. “The birthday boy’s mother doesn’t want her son’s friends to be frustrated.”

Zack shook his head sadly. “Kids today. ‘Soft as boiled turnips.’ ”

“Where did you pick up that nugget of folk wisdom?” I said, handing him a box.

Zack began freeing the dinosaur within. “From a former client. She’d hired a strapping young man to beat her husband to a pulp. When the young man blew it, my client took care of the matter herself.”

Zack pulled out a plastic
T. rex
. The box said his name was Monty, and he was about the size of a small cat. Zack held the
T. rex
in the air, rotated it, and examined it with interest. “So what does Monty do?

“Put him on the floor, push the sensor button, and see for yourself,” Mieka said. “When you touch him, Monty walks. When you make a noise close to him, he roars.”

Zack touched the button and Monty began to walk. Then Zack roared at Monty, and Monty roared back. Zack was delighted. “Where did you get these?”

“Toys “R” Us,” Mieka said. She turned to me. “They’re intended to encourage active imaginative play.”

“Zack already excels at that,” I said.

My daughter and I exchanged grins. Then she pulled out two of the little chairs at the birthday table. “I guess playtime is over,” she said. “I know you two didn’t just happen by to help me set tables. What’s up?”

“Riel resigned from Racette-Hunter this morning,” I said.

“I was afraid of that,” Mieka said. “He’s so jealous of Brock Poitras. I tried to tell him that he and Brock aren’t competitors, they’re colleagues. They bring very different skills to the project and their responsibilities are different.”
She straightened the already-straight fork next to the dinosaur plate on the table in front of her. “Zack, is there any way you could just forget about the resignation? I could call Ernest Beauvais and ask him to talk to Riel.”

“It’s too late for that, Mieka,” Zack said. “I’m sorry. We all are, but Riel burned his bridges this morning. When he went to Margot’s to resign, he was high.”

The news hit Mieka like a blow. For a beat she seemed to fold in on herself. “He’d fought so hard to stay clean,” she said finally.

“Then you didn’t know he was using again?” I asked.

“No. I haven’t heard from him since Thursday night. After you told me about how he stomped out of your meeting, I started calling and texting. I must have left a dozen messages. I invited Riel to come to the house for coffee or to see the girls, but he hasn’t responded.” Mieka rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “He was supposed to call to tell me where he’s living, but he hasn’t even done that.”

“But Riel did agree to see a doctor and talk to Ernest,” I said.

“He agreed, but that doesn’t mean he followed through,” Mieka said. “Riel is proud. He can’t admit he needs help.”

“But he
does
need help,” Zack said firmly. “And he has to understand that if he’s involved with drugs, he’s jeopardizing not just his own future and the future of your family, but the future of the centre. I can arrange to have someone track Riel down. When we find him, I can explain the gravity of the situation to him – unless you’d prefer to handle it yourself.”

Mieka chewed her lip. “I can’t do it, Zack. I’ve tried. I get nowhere. He just lies to me or makes excuses. I can’t make him realize how much is at stake.”

Zack wheeled closer to Mieka. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I’ve known a number of people who had a nice little
recreational drug habit that ended up biting them in the ass. Many of them were lawyers, and they lost everything, including their families. But the smart ones got help. Riel has options.”

“He doesn’t believe that he has options,” she said.

“Well, he does,” Zack said. “There are excellent twelve-step programs in the city. If he thinks he needs a resident addiction program, I know the names of some good ones. Joanne and I will gladly cover the cost. Most of the addiction centres have a couples program and a family program, so if you want to, you and the girls can be part of Riel’s recovery.”

Mieka was close to tears. She shook her head. “I’m not there yet,” she said. And then none of us had any more time to think about Riel because the birthday party arrived. Eight little boys, each of whom spied the Monty on his place at the table simultaneously. They didn’t bother to remove their outside jackets. Within seconds, eight Montys were roaring around the floor with their new owners in hot pursuit.

The noise was already ear-splitting. I put my arm around my daughter’s shoulders. “Are you going to be all right?” I said. “I can stay and help.”

“There’s nothing to do,” Mieka said. “I’m going to call the school and have Riel taken off the list of people who can pick up the girls.” She gazed at the melee of little boys and Dino-Roars. “After that,” she said, “it’s business as usual.”

Taylor’s birthday is on November 11 and in our province that means that her birthday is always a holiday. This year her birthday fell on a Monday. The Remembrance Day services at the legislature were on Friday, so after attending them, we had the entire long weekend to try to put problems behind us and make merry.

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