Twisted Agendas (22 page)

“I’ve just turned twenty-four, Mom. I’ve got time.”

“Time goes fast, Piper. I was twenty-three when I had you. You need to start building up a solid work history. It ain’t so easy. You’ll find out.”

“You’re starting over and it seems to be working fine.”

Her mother regarded her for a moment before stirring her fork around the pasta. “You seeing anyone?”

She told her about Todd, his family in California and their plans to live together when he returned to London.

“Sounds like I’ll have to meet him. By the way, you been out to see Rory yet?”

So abrupt was the transition, Piper dropped her fork. It hit the plate with a loud rattle before sliding onto the table. She’d known the conversation would turn to her brother, just
hadn’t expected it at that moment. Her mother’s eyes zeroed in on the splotch of tomato sauce beside Piper’s plate, as if she were scouring for evidence of guilt.

“Changing a name sure takes a lot of time,” said her mother.

She decided to ignore the barb. “Tell me all about you going back to school again, Mom. You excited?”

The remainder of their lunch was spent talking about her mother’s career plans and upcoming wedding. On the way back to the office, her mother accompanied Piper to the Chambers Street
subway where they briefly embraced at the entrance. After they parted, Piper didn’t go downstairs immediately. She lingered, watching her mother merge into the city throng, lifting her
manicured hand and running her fingers ever so carefree through her hair.

Someone grabbed hold of the car door and she couldn’t shut it. Julia peered up through the triangle of shadowed space to see Katie’s husband, his shoulder length
salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a ponytail.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I need to speak to you.”

“About?”

“There’s three in my marriage and it’s feeling a bit crowded.”

She almost burst out laughing. “Your marriage is between you and Katie.”

“Please, I really need to talk to you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Julia spotted movement. Mrs. Hartley emerged from her house with a broom.

“It’ll have to be quick because I’m running late.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Let’s go into my house.”

They crossed the street in silence. Though she heard the rustle of the broom on the concrete pavement. Julia felt Mrs. Hartley’s eyes bore into the back of her head as she turned the key
in the door.

Over six-foot, Harry made the living room seem suddenly very small. She was glad to see Danny was in the kitchen.

“This is Katie’s husband,” she said.

As he came up from the kitchen to greet him, she noticed his shock despite the wide smile.

“Have a seat,” Julia said, and pointed to an armchair while she sat on the sofa.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?”

He looked at Danny, then back at her, as if he expected her to ask him to leave.

“Danny knows about Katie.”

“Does he know she’s the mother of two young children?”

“I’ll give you some privacy to talk.” Danny started hurriedly toward the stairs.

“You don’t have to leave,” Julia said. She nodded furtively when she caught Danny’s eye. He returned to the kitchen.

“I know my wife’s been staying here a lot lately.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“Has Katie told you?”

“I know.”

“Katie’s talked to you while she’s been here?”

“No.”

“I’m not with you then.”

“I’ve followed her… and I’ve rang here because I knew she’s been with you.”

She looked toward the Danny. “Have you spoken to Harry on the phone?”

“Actually, I didn’t speak to anybody,” Harry said, as he started to massage his forehead. “I wanted to speak to her and tell her to come home, but I couldn’t do it.
I knew in my heart if I asked to speak to her while she was here, it’d be the end of my marriage.”

There was a sudden clatter as cutlery hit the base of the sink. She looked over at Danny. It all made sense now. Every time the prank calls occurred, Katie’d been here.

“That’s called stalking, Harry.”

“I apologise.”

Julia was silent for a moment. “Katie comes here of her own free will. I don’t beg her.”

“That’s why I’ve come to see you.” He pinched his Adam’s apple and then bent forward in his chair. “I love my wife. She’s a very good mother.
We’ve been very happy.” He stood and began to massage his forehead again, then sat and leaned toward Julia. His face was now scarlet. “You seem like a reasonable woman. I’m
not a fool. I know Katie has needs I can’t satisfy. But the children need her.”

“I’m sure Katie knows what she’s doing and won’t hurt them.”

“Aren’t they already hurting?”

Julia stood. “This is really between you and Katie. Besides, it doesn’t feel right discussing this without her being here.”

“I doubt she discusses me or my children when she’s here screwing you.” He cupped his chin in his large right hand and shook his head. “I didn’t mean that.
I’m sorry.”

“I really can’t help you. You should leave.”

“Julia, let him speak,” Danny said. He approached with a handful of knives and forks in his hand. “What he’s saying’s true. They have children who need both
their… ”

“This isn’t any of your business.”

“I know you now, Julia. You wouldn’t want the children to get hurt. You need to work out something with Harry and Katie.”

She stared at Danny without speaking.

“Anyway, I’ve said my piece.” He set the cutlery on the coffee table and went up the stairs.

She turned back to Harry. “What do you suggest?”

“I’m not asking you to stop seeing my wife. I know that won’t happen. Even if it did, she’ll meet another woman at some point.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m a pragmatic chap,” he said, and smiled wanly. “I’m prepared to accept an arrangement between the three of us for the sake of the children… and because I
love my wife. All I ask in return is you don’t pressure her to leave us.”

Julia went over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, but then retracted it quickly. It felt too weird. It felt like she was giving some kind of benediction.

“I’m fond of Katie,” she said, “and I’d never ask her to do anything like that. Anyway, I’m not ready to go there.”

“Thank you.” He rose as if to hug her.

“Please understand Harry, I can’t guarantee she won’t divorce you. That’s not in my power.”

“Has she talked about that?”

“I suspect she’s going to want her freedom. We’re living in a different world now. You need to be aware of that.”

“I’m a film director. Don’t you think I know?

“So long as you do.”

“Until that time comes, I’ll take my chances.”

As soon as Harry left, Danny’s bedroom door opened and his heavy footsteps came down the stairs. He took a seat across from her.

“I was out of line.” He began to pick up the cutlery off the table. “It’s just, I had to speak my mind. It’s been bugging me ever since I knew Katie was a
mother.”

“I’m glad you said it. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this.”

He rose, but made no attempt to leave. “Hey, isn’t it great we know now who’s been making those damned calls?”

“I told you it was a prank.”

Her father held up two brown bags and cans of diet coke to Piper. “I was in the area and figured you’d be here.”

The sumptuous majesty of the Rose Reading Room at the New York Public Library with its spectacular ceiling murals of vibrant skies and sunlit clouds had always been a productive place for her to
study during her NYU years, especially when she’d had to write essays or cram but had cabin fever and needed to get out of her apartment. They sat by Prudence, the south-facing lion.
He’d bought her a BLT on wholemeal with extra mayo and a layer of ‘bread and butter’ pickle chips, a favourite sandwich from her childhood she rarely ate now because it was so
unhealthy. Near where they sat, a young, immaculately dressed woman stood before a middle-aged man. He’d set his briefcase between his legs and was clutching a slim rust-coloured folder, the
sort litigation attorneys carry to court. As Piper listened, the woman responded to his rapid-fire questions. It was a job interview for an associate position at the man’s law firm.

“Only in Manhattan do they hold interviews on the street,” Piper said. “What a rat race.”

Her father broke off a piece of rye bread and tossed it viciously into the street. Three pigeons immediately scrambled to reach it first.

“I didn’t make detective.”

“Jeez Dad, I’m sorry.”

“My life’s going south with no stops in between.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Some guy five years younger got the job.” He sighed as he looked out to the street. “Really thought I’d get it too. My buddy’s a first grader and he told me the
crime and narco work I’ve done would be recognised as investigative by the department. Go figure.”

“Next time.”

A pause ensued. “If there is a next time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. That’s what it means.”

“What’s bugging you?”

“It’s not as if people are depending on me anymore, is it? Your Mom’s gone. You’re grown up and making it on your own now. Rory’s… well, that’s all
I’m tryin’ to say.”

Her father was a fighter, it wasn’t like him to talk like that. “I depend on you.”

“I love you too, hon. You’re all I have left.”

“You’re young, Dad. Apply again next year.”

He looked across the street for a moment. “I want you to think about something.” He paused. “When you decide to get married someday, would you maybe think about not switching
our last name… and give the kids the name, too.”

Piper watched the people walking up and down the library steps.

“I know, I know. I’m the traditionalist and this is kinda unusual. It’s just when I pass, our name dies.” He slapped his hands on his thighs. “This probably sounds
dumb, huh?” He smiled. “You don’t have to give me your answer now.”

Piper gripped his forearm. “You can still meet someone, settle down and start another family. People do that all… ”

“Your mother’s the only woman for me.”

“She’s moving on and you should too. ”

“How come you’ve never said what you think of this guy she’s seeing?”

“I… you never asked.”

“Come on now. This is your old man you’re talking too.”

Piper squeezed the remains of the sandwich into the greaseproof sheet of paper and put it into the bag. The truth was, the evening she’d gone to dinner at the Bronx apartment Juan and her
mother shared had been full of surprises, the first of which had been Juan. He was six inches shorter than her mother, as well as eight years younger. Surprise number two had been the revelation
her mother had taken up swimming because Juan was a member of a snorkeling club. Her mother had always been terrified of water. The final surprise had been the amount of fawning, her mother’s
Irish reserve about displaying affection clearly tossed out with her marriage. She’d tousled Juan’s hair, giggled and stroked his biceps at the table like a mob boss’ moll.

“You want the truth?” she said to her father. “He’s a nice guy who makes great fried plantains.”

Her father didn’t smile.

“I think you and Juan would get on if circumstances were different.”

The blare of emergency vehicles racing down Fifth Avenue grew louder and louder until it drowned out the natural city din. When the vehicles reached the intersection, the traffic lights were
still on red. A fire engine crossed, then another, their occupants seated in the cabs staring out impassively at the rubbernecking pedestrians. Instinctively, Piper covered her ears with her hands
and stared at her knees until the sound receded.

“I’ve been thinking about something for a while.” Her father stared deep into Piper’s eyes. “I’d love if we could all go to Rory’s grave
together.”

“No problem.”

“Ask your mother when she can make it?”

“Mom, too?”

“Sure. Things’ll be changed forever after she marries that guy. Let’s be a family one last time. It’s not too much to ask. All of us together with Rory one last
time.”

“Mom, all I’m saying’s, I don’t see what the problem is,” Piper said.

“It’s dysfunctional. That’s my problem.” Her mother did another half-turn in front of the dressing mirror, smoothed the dress around her waist and hips and checked her
profile again. “I do like this, you know.”

“It’s too short, and this country’s full of dysfunctional families. Dysfunctional’s the new normal.”

“My legs look good in it, no?”

“It’s appropriate for someone in her twenties, Mom.”

“Appropriate. I hate that word. It’s… it’s so… ”

“Appropriate?”

“Judgmental.” Her mother put her face closer to the mirror and checked her face, pulling back the skin around the corners of her eyes so the shallow crow’s feet disappeared.
“And no offence, but you’ve never been interested in clothes so your opinion doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.”

“None taken.”

They were in the ladies department at Bloomingdales to purchase Piper’s dress for the wedding, which she’d decided upon after trying on just three. Unfortunately, her mother spotted
dresses she liked as well, but was annoyingly indecisive. As a teenager, Piper stopped going shopping with her for this reason.

“I suppose you’re right,” her mother said. She returned to the changing room and Piper began to type at her laptop again.

“The other thing is, I like to go to see Rory alone,” her mother said. “
That’s
a problem.” She came out. “Let’s get outta here.”

Piper saved her document and stuffed the laptop into her satchel.

“I think we should go to the cemetery,” she said, in a last ditch effort while they were on their way to the café on the sixth floor. “Think about it. All of us together
with Rory one last time. You owe Dad that.”

“I owe him
nada
.”

“Learning Spanish, are we?” Her mother didn’t speak. “Rory, then. You owe it to him.”