NOTE: Where you see "...." inserted within a sentence or between sentences, the author has removed certain words from the excerpt that might give away key parts of the story.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Where are we going?” David asked, peering through the limousine’s rear window as they turned left out of Fox Run’s driveway.
Kenneth, who was beside him, looked across at Megan on the opposite seat.
“Fair question, my friend. How would you like to answer that, Meg?”
“Out—for dinner.”
“Why?” the old man asked again. “There’s plenty to eat at the house, and I’d rather not leave right now. What if something happens while we’re away?”
Kenneth shot a glance at his cousin that said I told you this wasn’t a good idea.
“Look,” he continued, leaning around in front of David’s face, “we’ll only be gone a little while—probably less time than it’ll take for Heidi to follow all of Gram’s orders. And the phone number in this car is posted all over the main house, in case we’re needed. We can also check in from the restaurant.”
“No!” David demanded. “Take me home.” Raising his voice even louder, he leaned forward and knocked on the window behind Barnes. “Turn this damn car around. We’re going back to Fox Run.” Looking first at Kenneth, then at Megan, he added, “Sorry. I might not be as strong as I used to be, but I’m still a hell of a lot older than you are—and I don’t take orders from you. Heidi can fix us something to eat and bring it over to the cottage. We can talk there.”
The lack of response, particularly from Megan, prompted him further.
“Well, talking is the reason for my captivity, right? Or would the word grilling be a more accurate description? You just want to pump me for information. How much has she told you already?”
The hint of mischief in his eyes eased the tension slightly.
“Okay, you’re right.” Megan replied, feeling herself sway as the limo made a lazy U-turn. “We would like to discuss some of this with you, and she’s been telling me about Amelia, who I never knew was so…”
“Good grief! At this rate, she’ll still be yakking after we’re all dead,” he said, gently ramming his elbow into Kenneth’s side.
“Actually,” Megan continued, relieved to see him lighten up, “that’s why I thought you might be of some help, maybe fill in a few blanks, so I can discreetly direct her toward the Reader’s Digest rendition.”
“Don’t waste your energy, Megan. She’s been working on this far too long for her to make any changes. And I’m not going to be your source, no matter what tricks you try to play.”
Shaking his head in mild exasperation, the old man turned toward Kenneth in a silent plea for assistance.
“Well, don’t look at me, David. I’m trapped just like you—only I do what Megan tells me.”
*******************************
Heidi microwaved an assortment of finger foods, which she’d been cooking and freezing for days in anticipation of such a circumstance. After arranging a buffet on the round oak dining table, she left David, Megan and Kenneth in the cozy confines of the guest cottage.
“Shall I call you when Mrs. Stafford wakes up from her nap?”
“Yes, Heidi. Thanks.”
“We’ll be lucky if we have ten minutes,” David advised with an attitude. “I can’t believe she nodded off at all.”
“We’d better get right to it, then.” Megan sat down on a footstool in front of David, who had nestled into the sofa cushions.
“And what am I supposed to be doing during this process?” Kenneth asked, piling meatballs on a small plate.
“You, my boy, are my witness, so Megan doesn’t get me in trouble,” David chuckled.
“Got it,” Kenneth responded from an armchair, popping a meatball into his mouth and stretching his legs out on the square coffee table that centered their conversation.
“Just exactly where is her story going?” Megan pressed, her focus unbroken by the men’s bantering.
David paused, looking back and forth at each of them.
“I can’t tell you that. She’s the one who will take you there. But you say she’s been talking about Amelia?”
“Yes, right up to her death. That’s when I stopped her. She seemed to be upsetting herself.”
“The part about Amelia always upsets her. Makes her think about her mother. What a sad story that was! Instead of dimming, some of those memories have grown more painful over the years, and dwelling on Amelia dredges up all sorts of stuff.”
“Can’t you help shorten some of this, David? Tell us something? Anything?”
“Anything? Well, okay. How’s this? Bet she didn’t tell you that finding out about the annulment could not have come at a worse time. I remember her…”
“Annulment? What annulment?” Kenneth asked as he sat up.
…. David removed a handkerchief from his back pocket, blew his nose, and drank half a glass of water before continuing summarily, noting that neither member of his audience was attempting to interrupt him.
“This family has consciously avoided any discussion of that moment in McClinty history. But on the few occasions over the years when people who actually lived through the period would let their guard down, they admitted that Jonathon’s treatment of Mimi was damn shameful. I guess no one had the courage, though, to confront him. In fact, I never heard the whole story until after he died. When she told me about it, she tried to pretend that she wasn’t hurt—that her sadness was mostly for her mother. But I could tell otherwise. At any rate, I’m sure she’s planning on giving you all the gruesome details and connecting the dots for you. So, that about wraps it up for me.”
Watching Megan and Kenneth continue to stare at him wide-eyed, with the proverbial deer-in-headlights look on their faces, he could not resist.
“What’s the matter with you guys? I thought you wanted to talk.”
Megan was the first to find her voice.
“Why haven’t we ever heard that Jonathon was such a son-of-a-bitch?”
“I don’t know,” David replied. “Maybe because he was so complicated. He was considered a great man in the community, you know. The impact of his economic contributions can still be seen in many parts of town, and his marriage to Sophie turned out to be long and strong. Frankly, even though he was my uncle, he also filled in as a father figure for me, beginning when I was twelve. He was very good to me, and most people spoke of him with admiration. And don’t forget, your grandmother worshipped him—until she learned about what happened to her mother. Even then, secretly, I don’t think that changed the way she felt about her father.” …
… “Now I have even more questions [Megan said] than I had before we started this conversation. And what, for example, ever happened to all the artwork created for Mimi and Amelia? Apparently, Jonathon never gave a flip about any of it.”
“Are you talking about all that stuff made by those homeless people?”
“They weren’t homeless, David.”
“Yes, Megan, they were, no matter what folklore she’s been laying on you. I met them myself…
… After staging a theatrical rearrangement of the sofa cushions—and recognizing that Megan was not going to release him unless he completed this train of thought—David folded his arms across his chest and fixed his eyes squarely on hers.
“All right, but this is the last thing I’m going to say. You’ll have to hear the rest from her… … So, Ken, how about a game of Scrabble?”
“Actually, I could really use a drink first after listening to this. Then, sure! I’d love to play, and leave you in the dust.”
“Dream on, my boy, if it boosts your confidence.”
“I guess this means our meeting’s over?” Megan queried, observing the two men ignore her as the subject changed without notice. “Great,” she answered to herself, “I’ll go get my own information.”
“Careful what you wish for,” the old man whispered.
Megan and Kenneth helped David stand up, and then the three of them slowly made their way along the path between the cottage and the main house, just as they had done so often throughout their lives. In the days ahead, they would take this walk again, but the ground would not feel this solid for a long time to come.
