The Girl in the Mirror(68)
Why has he been so quiet? I laughed last night when Virginia said that Francine thought Ben was secretly having a baby. Now I wonder. Why have I always assumed Ben wouldn’t chase the money, just because he’s gay? He could get married and get his wife pregnant if he wanted to.
In seven months, he hasn’t picked up the phone. In seven months, he hasn’t come home to see his mother, who lost her daughter, or his sister, who lost her twin. I know he takes his studies seriously—he worked his butt off to get that scholarship—but hasn’t he had a semester break since then?
Would Ben tell me if he had beaten me to the money? Perhaps not. Perhaps he is married, with a pregnant wife, but he didn’t want to tip me off until his baby was born. I remember enough trust law to know that if I get the money, and it turns out that Ben had a baby first, I’ll have to give it back.
My phone rings. It’s Colton.
“Congratulations! My favorite niece!” His voice is smooth. “How’s the little heiress? Does she have a name?”
“Esther,” I say. “Esther Carmichael.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
What a super-friendly guy. I guess he knows which side his bread is buttered on.
“Adam’s organizing the birth certificate today,” I say.
“Oh, take your time,” he says breezily. “I’m not concerned about that. Francine is demanding a DNA test and all sorts of nonsense, but she needs to get over herself.” He pauses. “Summer, I guess Virginia’s told you that Francine and I had a thing going on, but I want you to know, I broke it off with her last night. Her performance at your house woke me up. I should never have gotten caught up in the row between her and your mother. I want to sign off on my brother’s will. It’s the last thing I can do for him, and to be honest, it will be nice to have this job off my hands after so many years. Your little girl has so many stocks and shares that I had to pay two people to run her portfolio. In fact, I thought I might drop by now to give you access to the first tranche of income. There’s a slush fund that you and Adam can spend right away. Fifty grand or so, and then the share transfers will dribble through over the next few months.”
My head is buzzing. Can it be this easy? Part of me wants to say no. Wouldn’t it be better never to get the money than to get it and have to give it back? This all seems too good to be true, and yet I’m not even having to tell any lies. My life and Summer’s are one and the same at last.
“Yes, come now,” I say. “Good to get things moving. Adam and I have been talking about bringing our yacht back to Wakefield, and that will be expensive.”
“You just had a baby, and you’re already dreaming about sailing away?” Colton asks.
“I just want to bring Bathsheba home,” I say. “I’ll want to teach Esther to sail one day. And Tarq.”
“Well, you might have to wait a while,” Colton says. “I spoke to Adam earlier, and he was pretty clear that the first pile of cash goes straight into Romain Travel.”
“What? No,” I say. “We get money out of the agency, we don’t put money into it.”
Colton cackles. “Okay, well, you’re the boss now, Summer. You and Adam. He told me not to worry you with this stuff, anyway. You two can do whatever you like. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up.
Esther dreams on. What a mess I am; I’m not fit for visitors. I haven’t showered today. I gingerly climb out of bed and lower Esther into her glass-sided bassinet, taking care not to wake her. She makes quiet grunts as she breathes, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. I hobble on stiff legs toward the en suite bathroom. Adam forgot to put the bouquets in water, and the irises, lying on the meal cart, will be wilting in no time.
I pick them up. I have a feeling that today I get everything I want. The irises are bold purple, a dazzle of color splashed with gold. They are tall and proud and unashamedly themselves.
Perhaps they are not as beautiful as roses, but they are my flower and I love them. All my life I have tried to smell them and smelled nothing. Why not try one more time? I bury my face in the bright blooms and breathe deep.
I’m sure there is a faint scent. It’s green and warm as springtime, and it fills my lungs. I exhale and breathe in again. I smell everything good: honey, spice, fresh-cut grass, and morning.
Why today of all days? Perhaps I’m imagining the fragrance, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the smell of happiness. It’s the smell of everything being okay. I have a daughter. Adam loves me. I’ve done it at last.
I’ve got my back to the door, my face deep in my namesake flower, so I hear his voice before I see him.
“Hey.”
I wheel around. Ben is standing at the door in rumpled clothes, a travel pack on his back. “Am I the only sane person on the planet? How the hell did you manage to fool them all?”
19
The Money
The game is up. There’s no question this time. Ben knows. My brain is screaming, Deny it, but I can’t. It’s no use.
It’s the first time in months that anybody has looked at me and seen me. He didn’t need to question me or hear my voice. He knew. It feels as though he’s woken me from a long dream, and I’ve remembered at last who I am.
Ben looks older, tired and bewildered. He shrugs his backpack off his shoulders and dumps it on the floor. I want to run over and hug him, but the look on his face stops me.