The Remedy for Regret (10 page)

“I have to find him, Tess,” Blair says. “I have to find him and give him the note and the locket. They are his. She meant for him to have them. I have to find him or I will never again have a moment’s peace!”

My mind is spinning. Blair is blowing this completely out of proportion. I don’t know much about God but I am fairly sure Blair is wrong about this. She is young and attractive, she has two beautiful little girls and she is financially set for the rest of her life. It’s terribly unfortunate that Brad had been cheating on her. But I don’t think this is the
end of Blair’s charmed life. She still has so much to be thankful for. So much that I confess I envy. But she apparently sees the rest of her blessings as handy, additional assets that God can strip from her if she doesn’t rid herself of this skeleton in her closet.

I don’t know how to combat this “the-gods-must-be-angry” state of mind. Blair is in a place of grief I have only ever read about: She wants to bargain her way out of sorrow.

Besides, what Blair is proposing is probably impossible. The baby was adopted eight months after we found him. I don’t know the family’s name. We were way out of the picture by then. I don’t know much about family law, but I am fairly certain adoption records are closed to the general public.

“Blair, I don’t think it is that easy,” I say.

“I don’t care. I don’t care how long it takes or how much it costs.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of time and money, Blair, I think it’s a matter of the law. I don’t think—”

“It’s not like we’re strangers! We rescued this baby. And I even remember the names of the people who adopted him. That social worker I kept calling told me a couple by the name of John and Pamela were going to adopt him.”

This surprises me. I didn’t know Blair had kept tabs on the baby by calling the county social worker assigned to him. But I suppose hiding the locket and the note kept her somewhat on edge.

“John and Patricia, who?” I ask.

“I don’t know their last name.”

“No one is going to tell you their last name, Blair,” I say gently. “I don’t think anyone can.”

“I don’t see why this has to be such a big deal. I already
know
the first names!” Blair says defensively. “And
we
rescued that baby! It’s not like we’re not a part of this.”

Blair’s use of the words ‘we
’ a
nd ‘we’re’ silence me. She is including me somehow in something she is planning.

“I have to find that boy, Tess. I have to. I have to make this right before God does something else to me.”

I can think of nothing to say in reply.

“I am going back to Blytheville,” she says. “I am going to start there. And… and I want you to come with me.”

“I couldn’t possibly!” I stammer. “Blair, I have a job back in Chicago. And Simon… Simon needs me at home.”

“I’ll pay you what you would make at the boutique. I’ll pay you double. If Antonia fires you, I’ll buy you your own boutique. I don’t care what it costs, Tess. And Simon is a man, not a little boy. He can live without you for a few months.”

“A few months! Blair, this could take years!”

“Maybe, maybe not. Tess, please come with me. I won’t make you stay more than a couple months, I promise.”

“Blair, I can’t just take off for two months.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll pay for everything.”

“But what about the Chloe and Leah?” I say, trying another approach.

“I would bring them with me if I could, but I can’t. You know I can’t,” Blair says. “I know Brad’s mother will keep them for me. And I have to do this, Tess. I have to or it won’t stop. If we can’t find him, I’ll come back. But only for a little while. I won’t rest until I find him.”

She sounds like she’s making a holy oath and perhaps in her anguished mind, she
is.
I’m about to come up with another protest when it suddenly occurs to me I have just been afforded a wonderful opportunity. Truly splendid. Suppose I join Blair on her campaign for inner peace. Suppose I undertake with her this quest to “make it right.” It is highly probable we will not be able to find a fifteen-year-old boy who was left as a baby on a church doorstep. And of course we are assuming he is still alive. But yet it is possible. It is possible we can find him. And if we do, we can show him his mother loved him. We can tell him it didn’t matter about the leg. We can make it right. And I will have been a part of it.

I cannot give my mother back her life, but perhaps I can give a son back his mother, in a figurative sense. If I can make that happen then perhaps it will not matter what Simon thinks he knows. Maybe then it won’t matter what he and my father argued about. I will have bargained for my own peace, participated in my own act of restitution. I will have found and drunk my own remedy for regret.

“All right,” I say to Blair. “I will come with you.”

T
elling Blair’s parents and in-laws that she and I have decided to take a little road trip is easy. No one raises an eyebrow, not even when Blair says she does not know how long we will be gone. They are all supposing that a trip to a childhood home full of happy memories will act like a tonic on the young widow. Blair does not mention the real reason for the trip.

“The girls can stay with us,” Brad’s mother says as soon as Blair stops talking, like she is afraid Veronica will ask to keep the twins first. I can’t imagine Veronica volunteering to take those little girls for who knows how long.

Blair nods and says thanks.

Brad’s father wants to know where we will be staying and if Blair needs any cash. He also wants to know which car she is taking so that he can make sure it is ready for the trip. It’s only a three-and-a-half hour drive to Blytheville—not exactly a taxing drive for a top-of-the-line car—but I say nothing. It is Mr. Holbrook’s way of showing concern for Blair. She is lucky to have him for a father-in-law. I wonder if this man has any idea what his son had been planning.

“Brad had plenty of cash here at the house,” Blair answers. “And I guess we’ll take the Lexus. We’ll get a hotel room in Blytheville. I am sure the Holiday Inn is still there.”

“I think this is a very good idea,” Veronica chimes in. “You need to get your mind off these troubles, Blair. Go and have a good time. Forget about all this.”

I have a hard time not snickering. Those last two sentences of Veronica’s are like her dual-sided mantra. Have a good time. Forget what waits for you at home.

“Tess and I will leave in the morning,” Blair says and the mission seems to be set now in motion even though we have not left yet.

In a few hours, Veronica and Jack are gone. Dane takes them to the airport to catch their flight back to Texas, back to whatever life they have managed to carve out for themselves.

After they leave, Blair and I take the twins upstairs to pack their clothes and get them ready for the extended visit with their paternal grandparents. As we head up the stairs, Brad’s father goes into the garage to check the tires and oil on the Lexus and Brad’s mother heads into the kitchen to find leftovers for a light supper. The housekeeper has gone home for the day.

The twins’ immature chatter as we pack is soothing, though each one asks at different times if their Daddy can change his mind and come back home. I was not in the room when Blair told the girls their father had died. I am not even sure she told them he died. Does the word ‘died’ have any meaning to a three-year-old? I don’t know. Chloe and Leah seem to know that their father is gone and that he is far away and I suppose that is sufficient for the time being.

There is a palpable heaviness in the entryway as Blair hugs her girls and her in-laws goodbye after we eat. Dwindling afternoon sunlight is filtering through tall windows above and on the sides of the front door, bathing the little group in hushed light. Perhaps Blair’s eyes are empty of tears and need replenishing but I am still a little surprised at her dullness in saying goodbye to Chloe and Leah. When they are gone and the door is closed behind them I say what is on my mind.

“You are so lucky to have those little girls.”

Blair, looking out one of the panes on the side of the front door, nods and says nothing.

“Blair, I know it’s none of my business, but —”

“You don’t have to say it, Tess. I am not going to do to them what my mother did to me.”

Then she turns to me and looks at me like it’s very important that I understand something.

“I am doing this for
them
,” she says. “I am doing this so God will leave me alone. So He will leave us alone.”

There is nothing I can think of to say in response to this. If I thought it would interest Blair, I would say that it is amazing that she attributes the grief in her life to God’s intrusions, while the grief in mine I attribute to His absence.

“You probably have calls to make,” she says as she turns and walks toward the stairs. “You can use Brad’s study.”

Simon. My father. Antonia. None of them will be thrilled with my change of plans. Actually, my dad will think it’s a little odd, but he won’t lose sleep over it. He may even think it is a quaint thing to do. A proverbial sentimental journey. Antonia will be annoyed. She can get along without me but she doesn’t like to. Elena and the other girls can take up my slack. Elena in particular will be thrilled. She has been asking Antonia for more hours for months. And Antonia is not planning to go back to Europe until September. I will be back way before then.

I’m not sure what Simon will think. He is not the tortured man I last saw sitting in our hand-me-down chair. Through our phone conversations I can tell that he is slowly returning into the confident man I fell in love with three years ago. He will think it’s a fool’s mission; that we won’t find the boy. He may even be disappointed I am not going to be home in a few days to hear his startling revelation about me.

I will call him last.

I look at my watch, noting that it is five-thirty. I can call Dad at the clinic where I know I will get his answering machine. That will make for a quick, uncomplicated call. Then I can catch Antonia just before she leaves for the day, which will be better than catching her at the beginning of one, as she would then have the whole day to stew over what I am going to tell her.

I pick up the black handset on Brad’s phone and try not to think about the plans he had been making at the desk it sits on. I dial my dad’s direct line at the clinic and leave a cheery message saying that Blair and I are going down to Blytheville for a little R and R. I say that I will tell him all about it when I get back. Just before I say goodbye I tell him to be sure and wish Shelley a happy birthday and to let her know I will pick something up for her in Arkansas.

One down.

The boutique sounds busy when I call. I can’t decide if that is good or bad. Like I had imagined, Antonia is not pleased when I tell her I am accompanying my grieving friend to a childhood home in another state for a visit.

“I can’t believe you are doing
theez
to me at the beginning of the season,” she says, like spring arrives at
Linee Belle
and nowhere else.

“Just give Elena more hours, and maybe hire that girl from the school of design who came sniffing for a job last week,” I say. “Maybe she won’t mind taking something temporary. I took her resume to be polite, Antonia. It’s in the desk. Third drawer.”

“I hate training new people!” she says.

“Let Elena do it,” I reply. “Antonia, it will be all right. And I simply must do this for my friend. She just lost her husband.”

“
Sheez
most likely better off without him,” Antonia says gruffly, ever the believer in the carefree, single life.

“Antonia, I promise I will come back as soon as I can.”

“I won’t be able to
juz
do whatever I want when you are gone. I will have to be in charge!” she says in a resigned tone that lets me know this is her final volley.

“Then you will appreciate me that much more when I come back,” I say, hoping my return volley will come across light and casual.

“So what is in Arkansas?” she finally says after a pause. “There is nothing in Arkansas. Why don’t you take her to New Orleans or Miami or New York? Why you take her to Arkansas?”

“It’s where we met. There are a lot of good memories, there.”

And some troubling ones, too, but I don’t mention this.

“You call me the minute you get back, yes?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, okay.
Ciao
.”

“
Ciao
, Antonia.”

Two down.

I dial our number at the apartment and there is no answer. Simon must be putting in a full day at work. That’s a good sign. I dial his cell phone, hoping he has started charging it again and using it. After four rings, he answers. I hear the sound of a moving car beneath the sound of his voice.

“Simon, it’s me. Are you driving somewhere?”

“Hey, hi. Yeah. Just leaving O’Hare. I picked up your car today at the park and ride.”

“Oh. That’s great.”

It’s actually astounding. Simon is not only driving a car but he is also using a cell phone at the same time. I am amazed.

“So, you’re just getting off then?” I continue.

“Yeah. I worked a full shift today.”

“I am really glad, Simon.”

“Me, too. But I don’t want to talk too long, okay? Traffic is bad. It would be better for me if we didn’t.”

“Of course,” I say quickly.

“So the funeral went okay today? Do you know when you’re coming home?”

Well, here goes.

“Yes, the funeral was very nice. But, um, Simon, Blair told me something afterward that kind of changed my plans for coming home right away.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she found out the day after Brad died that he was having an affair and was getting ready to file for divorce.”

“Oh man, that’s… that’s terrible.”

“No one else knows, so we can’t tell anyone.”

“Sure, sure.”

“But Simon, Blair has it in her head that God is punishing her,” I say, wondering what Simon will think of this.

“Punishing her? For what? What did she do?”

“Well, it might sound a little outrageous but, do you remember me telling you that when I was thirteen, Blair, Jewel and I found a baby on Jewel’s church’s doorstep?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Blair had found a note and a locket in the box we found the baby in. They were from the baby’s mother. The note explains why the mother left him. It wasn’t because he had a deformed foot. She was just too young to be a mother. And the note says that she will always love him. But Blair never told anyone. She still has the note and the locket. She showed them to me.”

“And Blair thinks God is mad at her for keeping them and not telling anyone? She thinks that’s why Brad was having an affair and why he died? Because God is mad at her?” Simon asks.

“Well, yeah. Pretty much.”

“Tess, that can’t possibly be true!”

“I know, but that’s what she thinks,” I say.

“Well, did you tell her that’s not true?”

“Simon, she wouldn’t listen to me. She has it in her mind that she needs to find this child and give him the note and the locket because she thinks he has grown up his whole life thinking his birth mother rejected him. She says she has to let him know his mother loved him.”

“So that God will stop bullying her.”

Simon makes it seem like Blair is naive. It makes me feel like I am naive.

“She’s been through a lot. Maybe she isn’t seeing this clearly, but I have to say, I can see how finding this child could have an enormous healing effect for her.”

“Well, you’re probably right there.”

There is a slight pause. I am trying to think of a way to tell him that I am going with Blair but he beats me to it.

“And I suppose she has asked you to help her find him.”

“Yes, she has.”

“And you’re going.”

“I feel I owe it to her.”

I say nothing of how this quest fits my own agenda.

There is a measurable pause before he speaks.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure at this point. I have my doubts we will be able to find him. But we have to try.”

“And what about your job?”

“I already called Antonia. She was a bit miffed but in the end I think she understood.”

“So you called her before you called me?” he says, sounding a little hurt.

“Simon, calling her was easy. Calling my Dad was easy. I knew calling you would be hard. I really don’t care if Antonia or my Dad thinks this is crazy. But I do care if you do. Please don’t tell me you think we’re crazy.”

Simons sighs and I hear the rush of passing cars.

“I don’t think you’re crazy. But I think you’re going to be disappointed. What’s going to happen to Blair when she can’t find him? How is she going to feel then?”

I want to say that Blair will become skilled at living with her regrets, because when you have no choice, you simply learn to breathe with your troubles pulling at you. It can be done. But this is not what I say.

“She will know she tried her best to make it right. Surely that counts for something.”

“I miss you,” Simon says in softer voice.

My throat feels thick as I tell him I miss him, too.

“Call me often,” he says. “Every day.”

“I will. I love you, Simon.”

“I love you, too.

I hang up the phone and sit sort of dazed in Brad’s expensive leather chair. Simon is probably right. God is not punishing Blair. But Blair is right, too. The child we found needs to see the message his birth mother left him. It could change his life. Maybe it will change Blair’s. Maybe it will change mine.

I rise from the desk and leave the study and its emptiness. Blair told me earlier that we would go through her closets and pick out some clothes for me to bring to Arkansas since I came with just a few things in my suitcase. It will be just like old times. Me, sitting on the bed, watching her pick out hanger after hanger and saying things like, “This will look good on you,” and “This is definitely not your color,” and “This one has always been one of my favorites.”

Just like old times.

It occurs to me as I climb the stairs to Blair’s room that I will be able to see Corinthia for the first time since I left Blytheville thirteen years ago. Hopefully, Jewel, too. I have the strangest feeling as I consider this. It is the feeling I would expect to have if I was planning a trip to my hometown, to the place where I am from.