Everything To Gain Read online

  "Oh, that's a good idea, Mom!" Jamie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll go and get it."

  "Slow down, you'll fall!" I shouted after him, watching him race away as fast as his little legs would carry him.

  Trixy was hard on his heels, bouncing along by his side.

  I looked down at Lissa and smiled, thinking how adorable she was in her pink T-shirt and matching shorts. "So, you decided to give flags to all of our little friends who live in the wall," I said. "That's nice."

  She nodded, gazing up at me solemn-faced and serious. "Yes, Mommy. We can't leave them out on the Fourth of July. Every American house should have a flag, you said so."

  "That I did, and where did you get your flags?"

  "Daddy bought them in that shop near the vegetable stand. And he bought you some flowers." She stopped abruptly, her eyes opened wider, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Mom, I shouldn't have told you that. It's a surprise. Pretend you don't know when Dad gives you flowers."

  I nodded. "I've just forgotten what you said."

  Jamie came back with Trixy in tow, and he began to work with the Silly Putty, breaking off small pieces and making mounds.

  Lissa stood watching him for a moment, then she swung her head to me and said, "It's hot, Mommy. Can I take my T-shirt off?"

  "I don't think you should, darling. I don't want you to expose yourself to the sun. You know how easily you get a sunburn."

  "But it's soooo hot," she complained.

  "How about a dip in the pool?" I suggested.

  "Oh, yes! Goody! Goody!" She clapped her hands together and beamed at me, then cried to Jamie, "Let's go and get our swimsuits, Fishy."

  "Fishy?" I repeated. "Why do you call your brother that?"

  "Daddy says he's like a fish in the water, the best swimmer, too."

  "That's true, but you're not so bad yourself, Pumpkin."

  "Mom, can we take Swellen into the pool for a swim with us?"

  "Don't be ridiculous, Lissa, of course you can't. Sue Ellen's only a goldfish. She'd drown in the pool. And she'd be scared to death."

  "She wouldn't, Mom, honest. And she's a brave little fish." Lissa threw Jamie a pointed look, and added, "A very, very, very brave little fish."

  "I didn't hurt your fish," Jamie mumbled without looking at his sister.

  "Of course you didn't, honey," I exclaimed. Turning to Lissa, I went on, "You really can't take her into the pool with you, even though she is an extremely brave little fish. You see, the chlorine might poison her, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?"

  My daughter shook her head; her blue eyes had grown larger and rounder.

  I explained carefully, "Sue Ellen's better off in the goldfish bowl in your bedroom. Truly she is."

  "How do you like the flags, Mom?" Jamie stepped back, his head to one side, looking proudly at his handiwork.

  "They're great! You've done a terrific job," I enthused.

  "Hi, Mrs. Keswick," Jenny said, coming around the corner of the house.

  "There you are, Jen dear," I replied, returning her smile. I was going to miss our pretty, young au pair when she went back to England in November. I must talk to Diana about finding a replacement; it wouldn't be easy. Jennifer Grange was unusual, special, and we had all become very attached to her.

  "Can I do anything to help with lunch?" Jenny asked, joining Jamie near the wall. An approving expression settled on her face as she glanced at the flags, and she squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

  "You can't do a thing, Jen," I said. "Just keep an eye on your charges; make sure they don't get into any mischief. And you-"

  "Mommy says we can go swimming," Lissa interrupted.

  "But I want you in that pool with them, Jenny," I said.

  "Of course, Mrs. Keswick. I'd never let them go into the water alone, you know that. I'll just go inside and get their swimsuits."

  Lissa said, "We don't have to sit at the kids' table, do we?"

  "Well, yes, of course you do." I looked down at her, frowning slightly, wondering what this was all about.

  "We don't want to, Mom," Jamie informed me.

  "Why ever not?"

  "We want to sit with you and Dad," he explained.

  "Oh, Jamie, there just isn't room, honey. Anyway, you should be with your little guests. You have to look after them."

  "Vanessa and Luke. Ugh! Ugh!" He grimaced, squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and grimaced again.

  "Don't you like them?" I was baffled by this sudden antipathy toward our neighbors' children, with whom they had frequently played, and quite happily so, in the past.

  Opening his eyes, Jamie muttered, "Vanessa smells funny, Mom, like Great-grandma's fur coat."

  "Mothballs," I said. "Like mothballs?" I stared at him, raising a brow. "How peculiar. Are you sure, Jamie?"

  He nodded vigorously. "Yep." He grinned at me. "Maybe they keep her in mothballs, Mom, like Great-grandma Adelia keeps her fur coat in mothballs. In that funny wood closet of hers. Ha ha ha ha." He laughed hilariously in the way that only a little boy can.

  I had to laugh myself.

  Lissa giggled and began to sing, "Smelly old mothballs, smelly old mothballs, Vanessa stinks of smelly old mothballs."

  "Ssssh! Don't be naughty," I reprimanded. But I found myself still laughing indulgently. Glancing at Jamie, I now asked, "And why don't you like Luke all of a sudden?"

  "He wants to be the boss, and we're the boss."

  I threw my son a questioning look.

  Jamie said, "Me and Lissa, we're the boss."

  "I see. However, I think you will have to sit with them for lunch today. There's not much alternative, kids. Come on, do it as a favor to me, please."

  "Can the grandmas sit with us?" Lissa asked. "Please, Mommy."

  "I don't know… Well, maybe. Oh, why not. Okay, yes."

  "Oh, goody, we like them," Jamie said.

  "I'm glad to hear it," I murmured, wondering how I would have coped if they had hated their grandmothers.

  "We love them," Jamie corrected himself.

  "They give us lots of presents," Lissa confided.

  "And money," Jamie added. "Lots of it."

  "They're not supposed to do that!" I exclaimed, shaking my head and averting my face to conceal a smile. There was nothing quite so startling as the honesty of children; it could be brutal, and invariably it took my breath away.

  Jamie tugged at my hand.

  "Yes, darling, what is it?"

  "Who did you belong to before Dad got you?"

  "Your grandmother, I guess. Grandma Jess. Why?"

  "So we belong to you and Dad, don't we?" Lissa asserted.

  "You bet!" I exclaimed.

  Hunkering down on my haunches, I swept them both into my arms and hugged them to me. They smelled so sweet and young and fresh. I loved that small child's smell… of shampoo, soap, and talcum powder, and milk, cookies, and sweet breath. And I loved them so much, my little Botticelli angels.

  It was Jamie who pulled slightly away, looked into my face intently, and touched my cheek with his grubby, warm little hand. "Mom, will the new baby belong to all of us, or just you and Dad?"

  "Baby! What baby?"

  "The one you and Dad are trying to make." His fine blond brows drew together in a frown. "And what do you make it out of, Mom?"

  I was so taken aback I was speechless for a moment. Then before I could think of an answer, Lissa announced with some assurance, "They make it out of love." She smiled up at me, obviously extremely pleased with herself, and nodded her head, looking like a little old woman imbued with wisdom.

  "What do you mean, Lissa?" her brother asked before I had a chance to say anything.

  I jumped in swiftly. "Well, we are trying to make a baby, that's true. When did your father tell you this?"

  "When he was giving us breakfast this morning," Jamie said. "He was cross with us, we were making too much noise. He said we'd soon have to fend for ourselves, that we'd better start grow
ing up real quick. He said we'd have to look after the new baby when it came, be responsible children and lake care of it. Who will it belong to, Mom?"

  "All of us. If we succeed, of course."

  "You mean you might not be able to make it?" Lissa ' asked.

  "Afraid so," I admitted.

  "Good. Don't make it. I like it this way, just us and Trixy!" she exclaimed.

  "If you do make it and we don't like it, can we give it away?" Jamie asked.

  "Certainly not," I spluttered.

  "But when Miss Petigrew had kittens, Anna gave them away," he reminded me.

  "This is not quite the same thing, Jamie darling. A baby's a baby, a kitten's a kitten."

  "Can we call the baby Rover, Mom?"

  "I don't think so, Jamie."

  "That's a dog's name, silly," Lissa cried.

  "But it's my favorite name," Jamie shot back.

  "It's the name for a boy dog. You can't call a baby girl that," Lissa told him, sounding very superior.

  "If it's a girl, we could call it Roveress or Roverette."

  "You're stupid, Jamie Keswick!" his sister shrieked, throwing him the most scornful look. "You're a stupid boy."

  "No, I'm not. You're stupid!"

  "Stop it, both of you," I admonished.

  "Mom." Jamie fixed his vivid blue eyes on me. "Please tell me, how do you make a baby out of love?"

  I thought for a moment, wondering how to effectively explain this to them without resorting to a pack of lies, when Lissa leaned toward Jamie and said, "Sex. That's what makes a baby."

  Startled, I exclaimed, "Who told you that?"

  "Mary Jane Atkinson, the girl who sits next to me at school. Her mother just made a baby with sex."

  "I see. And what else did Mary Jane tell you?"

  "Nothing, Mom."

  "Mmmm."

  Thankfully, Jenny came back just then, and the conversation about babies was curtailed. Jenny was already wearing a bathing suit and carrying swim wear for the children.

  "Come on, put these on," she said, handing Jamie a pair of trunks and Lissa her minuscule pink-and-yellow bikini, which Diana had bought for her in Paris.

  "I want them to wear their water wings, Jen, they mustn't go in the pool without them. Or without you," I cautioned.

  "Don't worry, Mrs. Keswick, I'll look after them properly." So saying she turned to Lissa and helped her to put her bikini top on, and then she led the twins to the shallow end of the swimming pool. Picking up a set of water wings she slipped these onto Lissa's arms before doing the same for Jamie.

  Within seconds the three of them were in the pool, laughing and splashing around in the water, having the best of times.

  I watched them for a few minutes, enjoying their antics, pleased they were having such fun. I was about to go into the kitchen to see what was happening when Andrew appeared at my side. After kissing me on the cheek, he handed me a huge bunch of red and white carnations.

  "Sorry they didn't have any blue ones to make exactly the right color scheme for today," he murmured against my cheek and kissed me again.

  "They only have those odd colors occasionally. Usually on Saint Patrick's Day, when they dye them green," I said. "And thank you, darling." I peered at him closely. "The twins think we're trying to make a baby, Andrew."

  "Well, we are."

  "They're riddled with curiosity about it. Why on earth did you tell them?"

  He laughed. "I didn't mean to, it wasn't planned. Honestly, Puss. It just popped out. They were being impossible this morning, and Lissa's become something of a Miss Know-It-All. I wanted to bring them up short, so I gave them a lecture about being more adult in their behavior. And that's when I mentioned a new baby. The kids were rendered speechless, so it had the desired effect. Momentarily." He chuckled again. "I can tell you this, the grannies were delighted. Absolutely thrilled."

  "What did you just call me?" Diana exclaimed, stepping out of the sunroom onto the terrace.

  "Oh, hi, Ma," Andrew greeted her. Then another laugh broke free, and he hugged her to him. "Granny. I called you and Jessica grannies, Ma. But I have to admit, you're the greatest-looking grannies I've ever seen in my entire life. The most beautiful. And you both have fabulous legs."

  "Your husband's quite the flatterer," his mother said to me and winked.

  "He's only telling the truth, Diana," I answered and edged toward the sunroom door. "I've got to go in and change for lunch now, if you don't mind."

  "Go right ahead, Mal, I'll just sit here and watch my grandchildren frolicking in the water." She sat on a white terrace chair, her eyes immediately focusing on the pool.

  "I'll come with you." Andrew said to me. He took hold of my arm, and together we went through the French doors. Trixy followed us automatically, scampering along behind.

  As we crossed the sunroom, Andrew whispered in my ear, "Want to try for the baby now? Or don't you have time?"

  "Oh, you! You're impossible! Incorrigible!" But despite my words, I smiled up at him.

  Bending over me, Andrew kissed the tip of my nose. "I do love you, Puss," he murmured, his expression suddenly serious. Then his face changed yet again, and a mischievous glint flickered in his blue eyes as he said, "Listen, I'm willing to try any time, anywhere. All you have to do is say the word."

  I laughed. "Tonight?".

  "You've got a date," he said.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Connecticut, October 1988

  The birds had come back.

  A great flock of them had landed on the lawn not far from the swimming pool, just as they had done yesterday. They perched there now, immobile, silent, creating a swath of black against the grass, which was strewn with fallen autumn leaves of burnished red and gold.

  I could see them quite clearly through the windows of my studio. They looked for all the world like birds of prey to me. An involuntary shiver ran through me at this thought, bringing gooseflesh to my neck and face.

  Putting down my paintbrush, I stepped around the easel and opened the door.

  Observing the birds from the threshold, I could not help wondering why they still sat out there. Several hours ago, when I was in the bedroom, I had seen them land, and the amazing thing was that they continued to linger, not moving a single feather nor making the faintest twitter of a sound.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of color, and I swung around to look over at the house.

  Sarah was coming down the steps of the terrace, carrying a tray. She was bundled up against the autumnal chill, dressed in an oversized gray sweater, gray wool pants, and black suede boots. A long, scarlet wool scarf was flung around her neck, and it was this which had caught my attention a second before.

  "What were you staring at so intently?" she asked as she drew closer.

  "Those black birds over there," I answered, gesturing toward them. "They keep coming back."

  Pausing in her tracks, Sarah glanced over her shoulder and grimaced. "They look so strange," she murmured. "So… ominous."

  "I know what you mean," I said and opened the door wider to let her come into the studio.

  "I thought you might like a cup of coffee," she said. "Mind if I join you? Or am I interrupting your work?"

  "No, you're not, and I'd love a cup." Turning away from the peculiar gathering of birds, I closed the door and followed her inside. Moving a box of watercolors and a jar of water, I made room for the tray on a small table in front of the old sofa.

  Sarah sat down and poured the coffee. As she glanced up and looked through the window, she exclaimed, "Jesus, what are those birds doing on the lawn? There're so many of them, Mal."

  "I know, and it is weird, isn't it? The way they sit like that, I mean. But we do get a lot of wildlife out here these days. The wetlands down there near the beaver dam are a sanctuary, and Canada geese and mallard ducks come and occupy the pond, and sometimes a blue heron pays us a visit. Andrew's even seen a hawk from time to time. At least, he thinks it's a hawk."


  "Are those blackbirds?"

  "Crows," I replied. "Or maybe rooks. What do you think?"

  "Search me, I'm not a bird-watcher, I'm afraid."

  I laughed, took a sip of coffee, and bit into a macaroon.

  Sarah did the same, then looked over the rim of her coffee cup and asked, "Have you made your mind up yet? About going to London to meet Andrew next weekend?"

  "I think so. I'd like to go, Sarah, since he's going to be stuck there for another two weeks. That's if you don't mind coming up here with Jennifer and the twins. Actually, if you prefer it, you could move into the apartment in the city for the few days I'll be gone."

  "You know I love to play Mommy, how much I adore Jamie and Lissa, and I'm delighted to come up here. Frankly, these quiet weekends far from the maddening crowd are a blessing. I seem to be able to really recharge my batteries out here. And, God knows, I need to do that these days. There's such a lot of pressure at work. So make your plans. I'll hold down the fort, and very happily. In any case, I-" She broke off and stared out the window facing onto the lawn.

  I followed her glance, then sprang up and ran to the door. I pulled it open and stepped outside. The birds had taken off in a great flurry all of a sudden, rising up off the lawn with a flapping and whirring of wings. I craned my neck backward to watch them soar upward into the gray and bitter fall sky. I saw at once that the span of their wings was very wide; they were big birds. They climbed up higher, wheeling and turning against the leaden sky, then circled over the studio, casting a dark shadow across its roof.

  "They're not blackbirds or crows," I said. "They're far too large. Those birds are ravens."

  "Shades of Edgar Allan Poe," Sarah intoned in a low voice directly behind me.

  She startled me. I hadn't realized she had followed me to the door. I swung around to face her. "You made me jump! Gave me quite a start!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know you were standing there. And what do you mean, shades of Edgar Allan Poe?"

  "Ravens are very Poe-ish," she said, "always in his writings. They're considered to be birds of ill omen, harbingers of death, you know."