The Man She Left Behind (25 page)
Read The Man She Left Behind Online
Authors: Janice Carter
Jen’s cool green eyes met hers. “Thanks, Leigh. I’ll be leaving tomorrow to go back to Charlotte. I’ve had a long talk with Spencer today.”
Leigh’s ears perked up. She’d wondered where Spencer had been all morning.
Jen continued, “You’ll hear the whole story from Spence, but I’ve persuaded my husband to drop his adoption suit. I love Jamie and I want him to live with me all the time. But he needs to know his father, too.”
“Yes,” Leigh agreed.
“We’re going to see what we can work out.” Jen moved toward the doorway. She halted a few feet from Leigh. “I knew almost immediately after I said my wedding vows to Spence that I’d lost my gamble. He had that haunted look in his eyes. After Jamie was born, I couldn’t bear to see that look anymore. I had to leave or I’d have ended up like...I don’t know. Like nothing. I’d have lost my very soul. Spencer still loves you as much as he did fifteen years ago, Leigh. I hope this time you’ll listen to him when he tells you.” Then she walked out of the room.
Leigh picked up the pillow she’d been leaning against and hugged it, then closed her eyes and wept.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
D
AMAGE CONTROL following Jen’s little chat was furtive and quick. Windswept Manor had only one bathroom, so there was a succession of discreet taps at the door while Leigh washed her face and reapplied mascara and lipstick. When she deemed herself acceptable, she strolled downstairs, replaced the cell phone in the kitchen, talked with a few people and avoided scanning the room for fear of making eye contact with someone she wanted to avoid. Like Spencer.
AMAGE CONTROL following Jen’s little chat was furtive and quick. Windswept Manor had only one bathroom, so there was a succession of discreet taps at the door while Leigh washed her face and reapplied mascara and lipstick. When she deemed herself acceptable, she strolled downstairs, replaced the cell phone in the kitchen, talked with a few people and avoided scanning the room for fear of making eye contact with someone she wanted to avoid. Like Spencer.
Then she made her way to the kitchen where she insisted on staying to help. Trish tried to push her into the other rooms.
“This is your house and you’ve just come back home. You should be out there meeting people.”
But Leigh resisted.
Seems I have a reputation for stubbornness I may as well live up to
. Later, while guests began to leave, one of the women returned to the kitchen to inform Leigh that Spencer McKay was looking for her. Leigh took the opportunity to sneak upstairs and lock herself in the bathroom. The scene was eerily reminiscent of that night in Chapel Hill. Except this time Spencer wasn’t sodden, but striding throughout the upper floor calling her name and stopping in front of the bathroom door. She held her breath, feeling more childish by the second as he tapped softly on the wood.
Seems I have a reputation for stubbornness I may as well live up to
. Later, while guests began to leave, one of the women returned to the kitchen to inform Leigh that Spencer McKay was looking for her. Leigh took the opportunity to sneak upstairs and lock herself in the bathroom. The scene was eerily reminiscent of that night in Chapel Hill. Except this time Spencer wasn’t sodden, but striding throughout the upper floor calling her name and stopping in front of the bathroom door. She held her breath, feeling more childish by the second as he tapped softly on the wood.
“Leigh? Are you in there?”
After a few seconds he walked away and Leigh scurried across the hall to her bedroom. When she finally went back downstairs, everyone had left but the women in the kitchen.
Trish reproached her. “Where have you been? People were looking for you to thank you for hosting the reception. Spencer was especially upset that you couldn’t be found.”
Leigh ducked her head to pick up some dishes and mumbled, “I was exhausted. I took a quick nap.”
When she glanced across the room, Trish’s face looked doubtful. Then the woman said, “By the way, my sister’s coming tomorrow. She was supposed to arrive Friday, but her plans were delayed a bit. Can we get together for iced tea and dessert at my place? Say, late afternoon?”
Leigh agreed and they continued the cleanup. When she finally closed the door behind the last person, Leigh headed straight to bed. It was only eight o’clock, but the emotional upheaval of the past two days had taken its toll. She’d just switched off her lamp when the telephone, which she’d left downstairs, began to ring, but nothing could induce her to get out of bed to answer it.
The aroma of coffee pulled her from bed next morning. Leigh took the stairs cautiously, tying the ends of her robe and wondering which of the many people who’d been in and out of her house over the past two weeks she was going to encounter now. The closer she got to the kitchen, the more she thought it would be Spencer. Her heart started to pick up speed and she paused in the hallway, steadying herself by holding on to the door handle for a minute. She inhaled, counted to five and walked into the kitchen.
Janet was standing at the counter, her back to the door. Leigh’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach.
“Janet,” she said.
The woman whirled around. Color seeped up her neck into her face, which broke into a huge smile. “You startled me!”
Ditto for me.
“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” Leigh asked.
“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” Leigh asked.
“Oh, I tried to. I called several times, but there was never any answer.”
“Yesterday?”
Janet frowned. “I did call yesterday, I’m sure of it. A strange person picked up the phone and I hung up, thinking I had the wrong number.”
“Was that you who called last night?”
“Last night? I might have. Yes, I probably did. Are you all right, dear? You look rather wrung-out. Did you have a party? I noticed all the dishes stacked on the dining room table.”
Leigh pulled out a chair and sat in it. She rubbed her eyes. “No, not a party. A funeral reception.”
Janet clutched her bosom dramatically. “Good heavens! Not Spencer?”
An icy chill shot down Leigh’s backbone.
Why does his name come to her lips first?
But before Leigh had a chance to respond, Janet asked, “Would you like coffee now?”
Why does his name come to her lips first?
But before Leigh had a chance to respond, Janet asked, “Would you like coffee now?”
The non sequitur threw Leigh back into the never-never land of her very first conversation with Janet Bradley. “Please,” she said. After Janet had placed the mug of coffee in front of her, Leigh said, “The funeral reception was for Sam Logan.”
Janet’s eyebrows furled. “Sam Logan?”
“Grandpa Sam! I told you about him.”
“Ohhh.” Janet clucked her tongue. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. How devastated you must be.”
The show of sympathy warmed Leigh. If yesterday’s telephone discussion with the Bennington Agency hadn’t been uppermost in her mind, she’d have been tempted to draw on Janet’s sympathy. During the funeral she’d felt like an outsider even though Sam Logan had been like family to her.
She stirred her coffee, took a sip and then got down to business. “Janet, yesterday I had a call from the Bennington Adoption Agency in Raleigh.” The blank expression in Janet’s face grated. Leigh hardened her voice. “You apparently telephoned there pretending to be Ellen.”
Janet sagged into the chair across from Leigh. She covered her eyes with a hand that visibly shook. Leigh swallowed the remark perched on the tip of her tongue. The woman was obviously distraught.
Janet removed her hand to reach for the glass of water in the center of the table. “I had this a minute ago...for my pills,” she explained.
Leigh said nothing, sensing that silence was the best response for Janet’s labyrinthine conversational style.
Janet sipped the water and set it down, sloshing some onto the table. The eyes meeting Leigh’s glistened. “It was a bad thing to do,“ she began.
I can think of more vivid adjectives.
Leigh merely nodded.
Leigh merely nodded.
“You have to understand that when I left here a few days ago, I was desperate. I knew you were beginning to doubt who I was and I couldn’t bear to have that mistrust between us. I could see you drifting away from me. Moving to Spencer more every day.”
Leigh tensed. Janet had a pretty good radar system, she thought. But something nagged at Leigh. “Why didn’t you just tell me what you were feeling?”
Janet exhaled loudly. “I tried to. But with no real proof, how could I convince you?”
“But why the phone call to the agency?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking. Sometimes I seem to get myself into these situations without knowing how or why. I did have to go back home to check on things. Before I left, I remembered your telling me about the letter the agency sent years ago. You said it was in the valise with the ducky blanket. I decided I would borrow it in case I needed it. I thought—” she stopped to sip more water “—I could use the letter to prove I was Ellen Randall. You see, I hoped to convince them to photocopy my original letter so I could bring it back to you and prove I really was your mother.”
Leigh’s head spun. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
Janet nodded vigorously. “I know it doesn’t. That’s how my mind works unfortunately. See, I never kept a copy of my letter. Why would I? I wrote it impulsively years ago. At the time I was married and my husband wasn’t the kind to take to an illegitimate child. I had to hide everything about you. I even used a box number so the mail wouldn’t come to my house. So the only proof I had was what I could tell you—you know, about the blanket and how you got your name and that.”
Leigh said, “I still don’t see what you hoped to achieve by pretending to be Ellen.”
“But that’s the crazy part!” Janet exclaimed, leaning forward in her chair. “The agency wouldn’t give me my own proof to show you I’m your mother, but they
would
give me something if I were Ellen Randall. All I wanted was a copy of my letter. Then I could bring it to you and show you I...I really am your mother.” Janet began to weep quietly, dabbing at her mouth and eyes with a handkerchief.
would
give me something if I were Ellen Randall. All I wanted was a copy of my letter. Then I could bring it to you and show you I...I really am your mother.” Janet began to weep quietly, dabbing at her mouth and eyes with a handkerchief.
Leigh restrained herself from comforting the woman. She had to admit there was a kind of logic to the explanation. And certainly the evidence Janet had already given her was very convincing. Only a handful of those closest to her in Ocracoke knew about the blanket and the name. And yet she couldn’t ignore the rational voice in her head.
Why keep everything so secretive?
Why keep everything so secretive?
“Why did you use a phony name?” she asked.
Janet’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “I changed my name years ago, dear. When I left my husband. He was abusive, you see.”
When Leigh didn’t respond, she went on, “I brought something back for you. I’d forgotten all about it.” She reached for her handbag on the table and rummaged through it, pulling out a creased photograph, which she handed to Leigh.
A very young Janet was standing on a semicircular paved drive that curved in front of a large plantation-style home. Cradled in her arms was a tiny baby, wrapped in a pale pastel blanket. Leigh brought the picture closer to her face. The colors had changed with time and exposure to light, so that everything was highlighted by a narrow chartreuse border.
It was definitely Janet—the large frame, high cheekbones and long dark hair. But the baby... Leigh squinted, straining her eyes. All she could see was a cap of raven hair and a small pinched reddish face.
“I had that taken the day I gave you away. That place is the home for unwed mothers where you were born. You can see I don’t look very happy.”
Leigh studied the picture again. Janet did indeed have a morose expression on her face.
“That blanket—the color’s no good now, but it’s the ducky blanket. I persuaded one of the nurses to take our picture. Of course—” her voice fell to a hush “—it’s the only one I have of us.”
The bleakness in her voice touched Leigh. Her resolve to have it out with Janet, to get to the bottom of her story, began to dissolve. She no longer knew what to believe or whom. She placed the photo on the table and looked at Janet.
The answers to all my questions are right here,
she thought,
sitting across the table from me
.
The answers to all my questions are right here,
she thought,
sitting across the table from me
.
“Would you like to stay for a few more days?” she asked.
Janet’s face brightened. “I’d love to. And that photo is for you, dear. Put it somewhere safe.”
“I will. By the way, Evan may have a buyer for the house, so things may get a bit hectic the next couple of days. But I hope you won’t mind the interruptions.”
“As long as I’m here with you, that’s all that matters.” She hesitated, then added, “And Spencer? How are things with him and that son of his?”
Leigh peered down at her empty coffee mug. “Oh, fine. Jamie will likely be cleared of arson charges. He finally explained what happened, but Sam’s death interrupted the process. He and Spencer will be working things out with the judge in the next few days.”
“So we may not be seeing much of them?” Janet asked softly.
Leigh stood up and carried her mug to the counter. “Probably not,” she said, keeping her voice as neutral as she could. She turned back to Janet. “Where’s your suitcase?”
Janet smiled. “On the front porch.”
“Then you go get it and take it upstairs while I get showered and dressed. Later we’ll think of a way to celebrate.”
Janet’s eyes gleamed. “That would be wonderful, darling. Simply wonderful.” She walked over to Leigh and gave her an awkward but hearty embrace.
LEIGH REMEMBERED Trish’s invitation for tea shortly after she and Janet had eaten a sandwich lunch in the shade of the front veranda. The morning had passed uneventfully. Leigh called Evan, but he was unavailable. She hesitated, wondering whether or not to tell him to go ahead with the offer on the house. But something held her back. When she put the cell phone down, she scolded herself for procrastinating yet again.
Face it, Randall. You just don’t want to leave
. It was a sentiment she’d been avoiding thinking about, especially after her quarrel with Spencer.
How can you leave when there’s still unfinished business?
. It was a sentiment she’d been avoiding thinking about, especially after her quarrel with Spencer.
How can you leave when there’s still unfinished business?
When Leigh mentioned the tea invitation to see Trish and Faye, Janet looked away. “You go, dear. They’re your friends and I’d feel out of place. Besides, this is my first day back and I’d just like to enjoy the sea air. I missed it in Elizabeth City.”
Guilt tugged at Leigh, and since tea with Trish and Faye hadn’t been at the top of her own list of things she wanted to do, she called Trish to beg off. The woman’s disappointment was audible over the line, and so, without consulting Janet, Leigh agreed to make it lunch the next day.
By midafternoon, she’d decided that neither Spencer nor Evan was going to call. She was beginning to feel housebound.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” she announced to Janet when she returned to the veranda. “Care to come?”
As Leigh had hoped, Janet shook her head. “Too hot for me, dear, if you don’t mind. Don’t forget your hat.”
She’s got to be a mother
, Leigh thought.
, Leigh thought.
She left by the back door, heading across the yard and the dunes beyond to the Sound side of the island. The walking was rougher, but she’d be alone. Few tourists ventured into the marshes in the middle of a hot summer day. And she did wear a hat. Not because Janet had reminded her, but because she’d grown up on the island. People who didn’t wear hats didn’t last long in the sun’s glare. She also carried a small knapsack with her bathing suit, sunscreen lotion and a bottle of water.
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