The Man She Left Behind (18 page)
Read The Man She Left Behind Online
Authors: Janice Carter
“It’s upstairs in the master bedroom.” Leigh got unsteadily to her feet and gestured toward the door. In the hall she led the way up the staircase, pausing at the top landing for Janet, whose pace was slower. When Janet caught up to her, she passed Leigh and continued on down the hall toward the front of the house and Leigh’s parents room.
“Did you come to the open house?” Leigh asked from behind. Janet knew which was the master bedroom.
The woman stopped, hesitated and then turned round to look at Leigh. “Not the open house,” she said. “But all these old homes have a common design. The master bedroom is always at the front.”
Leigh cocked her head. “Hmm. I guess you’re right. Never thought of it before. Anyway—” she brushed past Janet who was hovering in the bedroom doorway and got down on all fours beside the bed “—my mother stored important things in here,” she said, and dragged the leather valise into the center of the floor.
Janet sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Leigh unsnap the lid and begin to sort through the contents. “Did she keep the blanket in there, too?”
Leigh slowly lowered the lid. A roaring sound filled her ears, and when it cleared, she was able to ask, “What blanket?”
“The blanket you went home from the hospital with. The one I wrapped you in before I...I signed you away.” Janet lowered her face and dug the tissue out of her purse again.
Leigh couldn’t take her eyes off the woman perched so casually on her parents’ bed.
What’s happening here?
The question spun through her brain like a deflating balloon. Finally Leigh’s mind shut down. She couldn’t assimilate anything. The action played out before her all on its own. A sense of utter lethargy overwhelmed her. She felt devoid of movement, power, even feeling.
What’s happening here?
The question spun through her brain like a deflating balloon. Finally Leigh’s mind shut down. She couldn’t assimilate anything. The action played out before her all on its own. A sense of utter lethargy overwhelmed her. She felt devoid of movement, power, even feeling.
“What’s the blanket like?”
Janet tucked the used tissue into the pocket of her dress and smiled. It was a dreamy remembering kind of smile that took her back to another era. “It was a pale blue. Some people would call it powder blue, but when you think about it, what kind of powder is blue?”
Leigh struggled to keep pace. “I...I don’t know.”
“And there were yellow ducks—babies—following a mother duck.” She frowned. “Was the mother duck yellow, too, or brown? Because, of course she should be brown.”
Leigh nodded up and down, back and forth—as erratically as Janet spoke, she thought. She took in a gulp of air, forcing it around the lump in her throat. “And do you still have the piece?”
Janet’s head pivoted down to Leigh’s upturned face. “Piece?”
“The corner. It’s always been missing a tiny piece of the corner and my mother—Ellen—used to say my birth mother had kept it. As a reminder.”
Janet covered her face with her hand. Leigh waited patiently, restraining herself from rushing to her side.
“I left it at home,” was the hushed reply. “I...I suppose part of me decided I’d probably be disappointed all over again.”
“Would you like to see it?” Leigh asked, raising the valise lid once more.
“Please.”
And when she pulled it out from the bottom of the suitcase, Janet cried, “That’s it! That’s your ducky blanket.” Then she burst into tears.
Leigh pushed the valise aside and crawled over to the edge of the bed. She pulled herself up and enveloped Janet Bradley in her arms.
CHAPTER TEN
L
EIGH CLOSED THE DOOR behind Janet and, after the woman’s car had backed out the drive, swung round and fell against the frame. She blew out a lungful of air, flapping the strand of hair that had been dangling across her forehead. She felt spent, exhausted. Bone tired, as Mom would say.
Mom.
She wanted her mother. She ached for her. Only her mother would understand the flood of confusion, the upheaval of emotions that she was experiencing.
EIGH CLOSED THE DOOR behind Janet and, after the woman’s car had backed out the drive, swung round and fell against the frame. She blew out a lungful of air, flapping the strand of hair that had been dangling across her forehead. She felt spent, exhausted. Bone tired, as Mom would say.
Mom.
She wanted her mother. She ached for her. Only her mother would understand the flood of confusion, the upheaval of emotions that she was experiencing.
She flipped on the porch light, even though the full darkness of night had not yet fallen. Suddenly it mattered to her more than anything that the world—people out there—should know someone was home at Windswept Manor.
Home.
She walked aimlessly through the ground-floor rooms, almost the way she had a week ago when she’d first arrived. A week ago. Hard to believe so much had happened in seven days.
Home.
She walked aimlessly through the ground-floor rooms, almost the way she had a week ago when she’d first arrived. A week ago. Hard to believe so much had happened in seven days.
But she was too exhausted to make a mental list of the events. Her mind was scarcely chugging back into gear, even now that Janet had left. She and Janet had chatted, drunk two pots of tea and then shared a pizza delivered from the village. She’d invited Janet to stay the night, but the woman had insisted on returning to her motel in Hatteras, giving Leigh more time, she’d said, “to get used to things.”
That was one way to put it, Leigh mused, though she’d have chosen something more dramatic, if she could have found the appropriate description. But her brain wasn’t functioning except at a basic level after spending all that time answering, almost like an automaton, Janet’s many questions about her childhood. And when it had been her turn to do the asking, her unreliable mind went blank. Horses bolted from the stable, as her dad would have said.
Leigh switched off the lights on the ground floor and strolled out onto the back deck to sit, cloaked in the comfort of night. She poured herself a glass of wine, and her analytical banker’s mind began to kick into action as she contemplated the afternoon.
Once Janet had warmed up, her strange mannerisms disappeared. Her conversation, except for a tendency to digress, was animated and interesting. She was especially enthusiastic talking about her pregnancy—her only one, she confessed—and the events leading to the adoption. She’d never met the Randalls, but had seen a photograph and liked their appearance.
Leigh’s head was swimming with new names and new family connections. By the time she’d finished a second slice of pizza, she was wrung out, unable to take in any more information. Janet insisted on leaving so Leigh could get an early night. And Leigh, even knowing she couldn’t, had solemnly agreed to go right to bed.
She downed the last of the wine. If only Spencer was here to help her sort out the emotional confusion of meeting her birth mother.
Or perhaps he’d only add to it.
She wondered what he’d say when he heard the news and guessed his initial response would be skepticism, as hers had been.
Or perhaps he’d only add to it.
She wondered what he’d say when he heard the news and guessed his initial response would be skepticism, as hers had been.
No, she thought, going over the scene yet one more time. Janet could have learned everything from records or gossip, but not the part about the blanket. Who else knew about the blanket? Her parents and Jen. She was certain she hadn’t even mentioned it to Spence. Baby blankets didn’t exactly rate high in teenage girl-boy talk.
Just the opposite. The topic of babies had been taboo, the very idea striking cold fear in her. She grinned, recalling the first of only three times she and Spencer had made love as teen sweethearts. The experience had been mostly a sweaty grappling in the back seat of Pete Randall’s Buick. It was the spring before graduation and Spencer had just turned nineteen. They’d both been paralyzed with fear for weeks afterward, until Leigh discovered she wasn’t pregnant. Looking back, she was amazed she’d had the courage to try it twice more. But Spencer always had the magic touch. His grin alone had been sufficient persuasion.
Leigh stood up. Time to call it a night, she thought. Or try to get some sleep. She closed the French door leading to the deck and tidied up the remnants of dinner. Glancing at the chair Janet had been sitting in, she could almost see her still there, a crumpled tissue clutched in her hand as the story of her life—and Leigh’s beginning—eked out word by word over the long hot afternoon. She walked into the living room, extinguishing a lamp she’d forgotten. The picture window was speckled with moths that even sudden darkness couldn’t budge, so Leigh tapped briskly on the window.
“There’s another light, guys. Just over there on the porch.” As she pulled back, she caught sight of a jeansclad leg stepping onto the veranda. She reached the hallway just as someone started banging on the frame of the screen door.
Spencer?
Anticipation propelled her across the floor. But the outline behind the door was too small for Spence. Leigh slowed down. The porch light beamed a bright yellow orb over Jamie’s head.
Spencer?
Anticipation propelled her across the floor. But the outline behind the door was too small for Spence. Leigh slowed down. The porch light beamed a bright yellow orb over Jamie’s head.
“Jamie?”
“Yeah. Sorry to bother you, coming by so late and all. I saw your light still on and figured you might be here. Everything’s okay, you know. You look kinda worried.”
“I admit to a flash of concern. Come in.” She released the catch and held the door open as he brushed past. “Is your dad still in Raleigh?”
“Yeah.”
He wore a striped cotton T-shirt over his jeans. Although the night was sticky, he rubbed his hands up and down his arms, warming himself. His blond hair was slick with perspiration, and Leigh noticed tiny beads of it strung along his upper lip. He looked around the foyer as if checking his bearings.
“Are you all right?” Leigh asked.
He just nodded. She closed the door and turned off the veranda light. Except for Jamie’s labored breathing and the steady whack of insects against the screen, all was silent.
“Hungry? I’ve got some leftover pizza.”
Another nod. Leigh motioned for Jamie to follow her into the kitchen, wondering when exactly her very peculiar day was going to end.
“Coke?”
“Please.”
Ah, manners. A good sign. “You want the pizza heated up?”
. “I like it cold.”
“Yeah, me, too. Besides, it’s been sitting out for a bit, and room-temperature tonight is about the same as the microwave.”
“Pizza sucks in the microwave.”
“No kidding! Best is straight from the fridge, when the cheese is all hard and bumpy.”
Jamie grinned. He took the same chair Janet had used and pulled the tab on the pop can. He drank long enough for Leigh to wonder when he’d had his last.
“Been working out?” She was teasing, but gestured to his damp shirt.
He ducked his head to focus on the top of the Coke, and Leigh decided she’d said the wrong thing. She plunked the rest of the pizza onto a plate and set it on the table in front of him.
There goes breakfast.
There goes breakfast.
He looked up then. “Sure you don’t want any?”
She waved a hand and waited. After he’d wolfed down one slice, come up for air and chugged another swallow of Coke, he was beginning to resemble his old self.
Oh, to be fourteen again,
Leigh thought.
Oh, to be fourteen again,
Leigh thought.
“Great,” he said between bites. “How’d
you
like the pizza? Not bad for poky old Ocracoke.”
you
like the pizza? Not bad for poky old Ocracoke.”
“And they even deliver.”
Jamie nodded solemnly. Leigh figured he’d missed the irony of her comment.
“I’m locked out,” he blurted.
Leigh blinked. “Locked out?”
Jamie pulled a face. “Dad told me to take a key when I left this morning to wait at Grandpa’s for the ambulance, but I forgot. When the ambulance came, there was a lot of commotion. He didn’t want to go—you know what Grandpa’s like.”
Leigh nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Jamie shrugged. “Then I forgot to tell Dad I didn’t have the key. He locked up Grandpa’s place and followed the ambulance, taking that key, too.”
“So you can’t even go to Sam’s.”
He shook his head.
“And friends?”
After a moment he mumbled, “None available.”
“Well, I certainly have lots of room here.” She waited while he mulled this over, knowing that was the very reason he’d come to her door.
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” he murmured.
“No more trouble than handing you sheets and a pillow.” She kept her voice light.
He thought some more, then said, “Thank you,” topping it off with a smile. He returned to the pizza with more decorum and less enthusiasm this time, finally leaving the last slice on the plate. “I’m actually kinda tired already,” he said.
“Me, too. Would you like a bed upstairs or the couch down here?”
He frowned. “Maybe the couch. That way I won’t disturb you at all.”
“Fine. Follow me and I’ll let you have the first shower.”
He wasn’t much of a talker, she thought, leading the way upstairs. Especially compared to Janet, who hadn’t seemed to pause long enough for air. And he obviously felt uncomfortable crashing at her place—someone he’d only met twice before. Leigh figured he must have been desperate for a place to stay.
After she’d handed him towels and steered him toward the bathroom, she took sheets and a pillow downstairs and made up the sofa. Then she locked up, tidied the kitchen again and headed upstairs. They bumped into each other on the landing.
Jamie was still damp from the shower and full of apologies about staying the night. He turned awkwardly and tackled the stairs two at a time, shaking the framed paintings and photographs lining the wall. Leigh shook her head, went into the bathroom and swore softly. Towels and an uncapped shampoo bottle littered the floor. A puddle of water remained in the bottom of the tub, where the fallen stopper had trapped it.
As she bent down to tidy up—again—she thought of Jen doing this for the past fourteen years. It was a sobering image, the more so because Jen had always been completely incapable of cleaning up after herself, let alone others. The fleeting insight amused Leigh, but also produced a seed of admiration for her old friend. She’d been so young when Jamie was born. It couldn’t have been easy, even with Spencer.
The thought segued into one of Janet, obliged to hand over her infant just days after the birth. Leigh shuddered. The experiences of the two women had been very different, but they’d both been dealt a challenging blow at a young age. She wondered suddenly if she’d have been as capable as they had.
What if Spencer and I...?
What if Spencer and I...?
Well, we didn’t,
she told herself sharply. She flicked off the bathroom light, leaving the hall one on for Jamie as she’d promised. Too tired to read, she crawled into bed and turned out the lamp. What was that feeling she’d had this morning?
she told herself sharply. She flicked off the bathroom light, leaving the hall one on for Jamie as she’d promised. Too tired to read, she crawled into bed and turned out the lamp. What was that feeling she’d had this morning?
Oh, yes. That the day was going to be like no other since her return to Ocracoke.
I can’t argue with that,
she thought, and immediately fell asleep.
I can’t argue with that,
she thought, and immediately fell asleep.
THE TELEPHONE. Once the noise registered, Leigh extended an arm and fumbled around on the night table until she located the cell phone, all the while blessing her foresight in remembering to take it upstairs with her.
“Leigh? Sorry to wake you. Spencer here.”
His voice was clipped, almost urgent. Before she could mumble a hello, he went on to say, “This is probably a dumb question, but would you happen to know where Jamie is?”
Leigh unglued her lips and pulled herself up to lean on her elbow. “Spencer. Sorry. Just waking up. Yes, he’s here.”
There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a silence. Then, “Well, that’s a relief. Jeez. I could strangle that kid.”
“He didn’t have a key.”
“He
forgot
his key. I swear he’d forget his head if he wasn’t always admiring it in a mirror.”
forgot
his key. I swear he’d forget his head if he wasn’t always admiring it in a mirror.”
“He came around about nine last night,” Leigh said. “He seemed pretty upset. I’m sure the experience was... well, enough punishment.”
“Ha!” Spencer snorted. “Wonder how long he’ll remember this lesson. Anyway, thank you for taking him in. It was a long shot, but I was hoping he’d be there. I’ve spent the last hour trying to find him.”
“Spence—”
“I—” he blurted at the same time.
“Go ahead,” she said.
“I was going to call you, anyway. Just to...to check in and see how things are going. Give you an update on Sam.”
“How is he?”
“Okay. Ornery as usual. Insists he’s made a full recovery and demanding to be discharged. But the doc wants to run him through a few tests, then fiddle around with his medication. Get it right, I guess. He’ll be here a few more days.”
“At least that’ll force him to stay in bed where he should be.”
“That’s what I said.” Spence paused. “I’ve got an appointment this afternoon in Charlotte about Jamie. Something’s come up.”
The hesitancy in his voice made her wonder if he wanted to discuss it or not. Finally she asked, “Anything I can do?”
“Nah. Just keep your fingers crossed. Thing is, I haven’t even mentioned this to him yet, but...well, seems like Jen’s new husband has declared an intention to legally adopt Jamie.”
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