Barbara Delinsky - Passions of Chelsea Kane

The Passions of Chelsea Kane

By: BARBARA DELINSKY

Category: Fiction Romance Synopsis: Left and right, rising toward the triangles apex, were the buildings she had seen before. Viewed at leisure, in the glow of the sun, they had the appeal she had only been able to imagine in March. The library, housed in a small yellow Victorian, had charm. The bakery, its windows filled with fresh breads, cakes, and cookies, had spice. The post office had dignity, the general store quaintness, the bank gentility. And then there was the church, the focal point of the town, to which her eye climbed time and again Though its wood siding was painted white, the shade of the pines cast it a pale blue. Spilling onto the hill at its side and above, past a small white fence, were the tall, thin slabs that anchored the dead to the town. She wondered who of her flesh and blood was buried there. She wondered who of her flesh and blood wasnt buried there but was alive and well and living in town. She wondered if any of them knew who she was.

Last printing: 04/29/02 :361 Barbara Delinsky has written over fifty novels. She has received many awards, among them the RWA Golden LeafAward and the Gold Medallion. She is published worldwide, in twelve languages. Over twelve million copies of her books are in print. She lives in Needham, Massachusetts, with her husband and three sons.

Also by Barbara Delinsky and available from Mandarin Paperbacks Facets A Woman Betrayed Barbara Definsky The.,Passions of Chelsea Kane Mandarin A Mandarin Paperback THE PASSIONS OF CHELSEA KANE First published in Great Britain 1992 by Judy Piatkus (Publishers) Ltd This edition published 1993 by Mandarin Paperbacks an imprint of Reed Consumer Books Ltd. Michelin House, 81 Fulham Road, London SW3 61113 and Auckland, Melbourne, Singapore and Toronto this title is available from the British Library ISBN: 0-1736- 7493 1435 4 Printed and bound in Great Britain by Cox and Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berks This paperback is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. acknowledgments In the course of researching granite quarrying and small-town New England life, I had the good fortune of talking with many fascinating New Hampshirites. Among the most generous with time and information, and to whom I now give heartfelt thanks, were Jane Boisvert of the Office of State Planning in Concord, Vic Mangini of the Greenfield Inn, SueAnne Yglesias of the Fitzwilliam Inn, and Howard Holman, mail carrier to the citizens of Fitzwilliam for sixty incredible years. Deepest thanks also go to architect Margot Chamberlin of Three-Point Design, Cambridge, Massachusetts, for her time and expertise. I would like to thank my editor, Karen Solem, both for her unwavering faith in my work and her determination that more readers enjoy it. Likewise, I thank my agent, Amy Berkower, for her patience and the solid advice she has given me over the past few years. Finally, always, I give thanks and love to my family-to my husband, Stephen, who unfailingly takes time from his law practice to answer my questions, to our oldest son, Eric, who has helped me with more than a plot twist or two, and to the twins, Andrew and Jeremy, who monitor my career with a savvy far beyond their years. SHE FOUGHT A COMPELLING URGE TO PUSH. She didnt want the baby born yet. She wasnt ready to let it go, wanted to keep it with her longer, but her body wouldnt cooperate. It had taken charge and was relentless in its goal. From the onset of labor the evening before, the contractions had been strong, one more brand of punishment to add to what had already been. Now, though, they seized her even more cruelly, strangling her belly and stealing her breath. They forced the child in her womb steadily downward until she could no more have kept her trembling thighs from opening than she could have kicked away the girl reaching between them. The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the woodstove and the fragile veil of dawn. In hallucinatory moments between pains, she imagined that he had decreed her baby born then, with no one awake to see or hear, no one to know. In the dark, the baby that had been a black mark on the fabric of Norwich Notch would be banished, the stain washed clean. With the sunrise, the town would be pure once again. I varbam Deansiky Another pain came, this one so cutting that she cried out. The sound echoed in the stillness, followed by another cry, then, when the vise around her belly began to ease, the frantic gasping for air. That sound, too, reverberated in the quiet, and with the return of reason, the irony of it hit her. A great blizzard should have been swirling madly around the small shack to mark the birth of the child that had created such a stirand if not a blizzard, she decided on the edge of hysteria, certainly the kind of torrential rain that often hit New Hampshire at the tail end of March. Mud would have made the roads impassable. No one could have reached her. She might have kept her baby a little longer. But there was no gusting wind or swirling snow. There was no battering rain, no mud. The dawn was silent, mocking her with its utter tranquillity. Her stomach knotted hard. Unbearable pain circled her middle in coils that tightened with each turn. She wanted a hand to hold for the comfort of knowing someone cared, but there was no hand, no caring soul. So she clutched fistfuls of the wrinkled sheet and gritted her teeth against a bubbling scream. Push, came the soft voice from between her legs. It belonged to the midwifes sixteen-year-old daughter, who had been relegated the task of delivering the towns least wanted child. In her innocence her voice was gentle, even excited, as she urged, Push ... There. I see a head. Push more. She tried not to. To expel her baby was to expel the only life she was ever to create, and once gone from her body the child would be lost to her. She The raswons of Cbwsca Kawe wondered If it knew that. She wondered if It wanted that, it seemed so determined to be born. She couldnt blame it, she supposed. She had nothing to offer but love, and that wasnt nearly enough to keep it clothed and fed. So for the childs sake she was giving it up. She had agreed to the decision, but she hated it, hated ft. The pain that hit her next drove all thought from mind but the one that she was surely dying. Her whitened fingers twisted the worn sheet, while the rest of her body contorted in agony. For an instant, when the pain subsided, she was disappointed to find that she remained, trembling and sweaty and hurting all over. The disappointment was still strong in her when she was seized again. Instinctively she bore down. Thats right, the young girl coaxed in a tremulous voice. A little more ... Oooooh, yes. Here it is. The baby left her shaking body, but the pain lingered. ft rose to encompass her heart and mind and wasnt helped by the tiny new cry that rose poignantly over her own labored breaths. She tried to see the child, but even if there had been more light, her stomach remained a bulbous barrier. When she tried to prop herself higher, her quivering arms wouldnt hold. is it a girl? she cried, failing back to the bed. I wanted a girl. Push a little more. She felt a tugging. There was another contraction, another fierce cramp, then with its ebb a harrowing sense of loss. My baby, she whispered, devastated, I want my baby, As though in answer, the infant began to wall from the foot of the bed, Bwbw= p@ The sound was cruelly lusty. Had the child been stillborn, she might have mourned and survived, but to give birth to a healthy child only to give it up was double the heartbreak. I want to see my baby.- There was no response. She was aware of activity at the end of the bed and knew the infant was being cleaned. Please. They said no. Its my baby. You agreed. if I dont see it now, I never will. The work went on at the foot of the bed. Pletue. - He told me not to. Hell never know. Just for a minute. Again she tried to raise herself, but the baby was in a basket by the warmth of the woodstove, and her strength gave out before she could do more than struggle to her elbows. When she fell back to the thin mattress this time it was with a sense of defeat. She was weak and hurting and so very tired. For nine months shed been fighting, and that was before hard labor had begun. She was too old to be having a baby, theyd said, and for the first time she believed them. She couldnt fight any longer. Closing her eyes, she let herself be bathed-the birth area, then the rest of her that was damp with sweat. The tears that trickled down her cheeks were slowed by sheer exhaustion, but her thoughts moved ahead. She knew the plan. Everything was arranged. The lawyer would be coming soon. A clean gown was slipped over her and the cov- The raswons of cuermcm ers drawn up to keep her warm, but the comfort that was intended by the young girls kind hands only heightened the desolation she felt. Her future was as barren as she had thought herself all those years. She wasnt sure she could go on. Suddenly she felt a new movement on the bed and the weight of a small bundle tucked against her side, along with a whispered, Dont tell. Opening her eyes, she drew back a comer of the swaddling blanket and sucked in a broken breath. In the pale light of dawn the child was perfect. Large, wide-spaced eyes, a tiny button nose, and rosebud mouth-she was definitely a girl, definitely the best of her parents, definitely sweet and strong-and in that instant her mother knew she had made the right decision. There would be no run-down shacks, no shabby clothes or meager meals for this child. There would be no scorn on the part of the townsfolk, no humiliation, no abuse, but rather a life of privilege, respect, and love.. Rolling to her side, she hugged the infant to her breast. She kissed its warm forehead, breathed in its raw baby scent, ran her hands over its tiny form, then hugged it tighter when tears, came again. They fell faster this time, gathering into sobs so gripping that she barely heard the knock at the door. The girl by her side quickly reached for the child. Hes here. No-oh, no. She clutched the baby to her, covering its head with her own not so much to protect it as to protect herself. Without the child she was nothing. Please, came the frightened whisper, along with a tugging. We have to leave. Deffn9AW We. Already her daughter belonged to someone else-the midwifes daughter now, then the lawyer, then the lawyer of the adopting couple, then the couple themselves. The process had been set into motion. There was no way to stop it without incurring his wrath, and no one knew the consequences of that wrath better than she. It was a silent wrath, all the more dangerous in a man as stubborn as he was powerful. But he was a man of his word. Just as he had warned her that she would suffer if she chose to carry her child and she had, so he had promised to have the child delivered to its destination unharmed and he would. She raised the infant to her cheek. Be someone, baby. Let me take her. Do it for me, baby, do it for me. Please, the girl begged. Now. I love you. With an anguished moan, she hugged the baby again. Love you, she sobbed softly. When a second, louder knock came, she jumped. She made a sound of protest, but it was a futile expression of the grief she felt. Her own fate was sealed. In the hope that her daughters would be kinder, she released the whimpering infant into the hands that waited. Unable to watch the child pass from her life, she turned away from the warmth of the room and closed her eyes. The door opened. There was a low murmur, the rustle of clothing and the creak of the wicker basket, the closing of the door, then a bleak and wrenching silence. She was alone again, just as she had been for most of her miserable life, only now there was no hope. The last of that had been stolen , her along with her beautiful baby girl. ibe Fawsions of Cbels Kam. She let out a low, animal sound of despair, then clutched at a sudden searing in her stomach. Her eyes grew wide. Her bewilderment had barely eased when the second pain hit. By the time the third came, she had begun to understand. With the fourth, she was ready. one ROM THE PLUSH COMFORT OF THE VELVET love seat that had been brought into the library for the occasion, Chelsea Kane studied the blondhaired, blue-eyed, beak-nosed members of her mothers family and decided that wherever she was from herself, it had to be better stock than this. She detested the arrogance and greed she saw before her. With Abby barely cold in her grave, they had been fighting over who would get what. As for Chelsea, all she wanted was Abby. But Abby was gone. Bowing her head, she listened to the whisper of the January wind, the hiss of a Mahler murmur, the snap of her fathers pocket watch, the rustle of papers on the desk. In time she focused on the carpet. It was an Aubusson, elegantly subtle in pale blues and browns. This carpet is your father, Abby had always declared in her inimitably buoyant British way, and indeed Kevin was elegantly subtle. Whether he loved the carpet as Abby had remained to be seen. Things like that were hard to tell with him. He wasnt an outwardly demonstra- The Passions Of Cbehma XMW tive man. Even now, when Chelsea raised her eyes to his face in search of comfort, she found none. His expression was as heartrendingly somber as the dark suit he wore. Though he shared the love seat with her, he was distanced by his own grief. It had been that way since Abbys death five days before. Chelsea wanted to slide closer and take his hand; but she didnt dare. She was a trespasser on the landscape of his grief. He might welcome her, or he might not. Empty as she was feeling, she couldnt risk the rejection. Finally ready, Graham Fritts, Abbys attorney and the executor of her estate, raised the first of his papers. The following are the last wishes of Abigail Mahler Kane ... Chelsea let the words pass her by. They were a grim reminder of what was all too raw, an extension of the elegantly carved coffin, the ministers wellmeaning words, and the dozens of yellow roses that should have been poignantly beautiful but were simply and dreadfully sad. Chelsea hadnt wanted the will read so soon, but Graham had succumbed to the pressure of the Mahlers, who had come to Baltimore from great distances for the funeral and didnt want to have to come again. Kevin hadnt argued. He rarely took on the clan. It wasnt that he was weak; he was an eminently capable person. But where he championed select causes at work, there his store of fire ended, rendering him nonconfrontational at home. Abby had understood that. She had been as compassionate as compassionate ever was, Chelsea realized, and let her thoughts drift. She remembered Abby bathing her in Epsom salts when she had fibrkmra Demnsaw chicken pox, ordering gallons of Chelseas favorite black cherry ice cream when the braces went on her teeth, excitedly sending copies to all their friends when a drawing of Chelseas won first prize in a local art show, scolding her when she doublepierced her ears. More recently, when Abbys system had started to deteriorate, as was typical of long-term polio victims, the tables had been turned, with Chelsea doing the bathing, doting, praising, and scolding, and she had been grateful for the opportunity. Abby had given her so much. To be able to give something back was a gift, particularly knowing, as increasingly they both had, that Abbys time was short.... this house and the one in Newport I bequeath to my husband, Kevin Kane, along with ... Houses, cars, stocks, and bonds, Kevin didnt need any of those things. He was a successful neurosurgeon, drawing a top salary from the hospital and augmenting it with a lucrative private practice. He had been the one to provide for Chelsea@s everyday needs, and he had insisted that it be that way. Abby had taken care of the extras. Often over the years Chelsea had wished she hadnt, for it had only fostered resentment among the clan. Abbys brothers and sisters had felt it wrong that a Mahler trust should be established for Chelsea, who had no Mahler blood. But Abby had been insistent that Chelsea, as her daughter, was to be treated like every other Mahler grandchild. So she had been, technically at least. She had a trust in her name that provided her with sufficient interest to live quite nicely even if she chose never to work. 10 The Paswons of Cheftca Kane ... to my daughter, Chelsea Kane, I leave .. Chelsea was an architect. At thirty-six she was one of three partners in a firm that was landing plum jobs up and down the East Coast. Moreover, she had personally invested in a well-chosen few of those projects, which meant that her profits were compounded. She lived quite nicely on what she earned. For that reason, perhaps, the accumulation of assets had never been of great interest to her, which was why she barely listened to what Graham read. She didnt want to inherit anything from her mother, didnt want to acknowledge that the woman was dead. Her aunts and uncles didnt seem to have that problem. Trying to took blas(@, they sat with their blond heads straight and their hands folded with artful nonchalance in their laps. Only the tension around those pointy noses and their ever-alert blue eyes betrayed them.... to mybrother Malcolm Mahler, I leave.. Malcolm got the yacht, Michael the Packard, Elizabeth the two Thoroughbreds, Anne the Aspen con-do Still they waited while Graham read on. As for the rubies .. The rubies. Only then did it occur to Chelsea that that was what her aunts and uncles had been waiting for, not that any of them lacked for jewelsor yachts, or cars, or horses-but the rubies were special. Even Chelsea, who would never dream of wearing anything as showy, could appreciate their value. They had been in the Mahler family for six generations, traditionally passed from the oldest daughter to her oldest daughter. Abby had been the oldest daughter, and Chelsea was her only child. But Chelsea was adopted. 1 I have given more thought to this matter than to any other, Graham read, and have decided to bequeath the rubies as follows-my sister Elizabeth is to receive the earrings, my sister Anne the bracelet, and my daughter, Chelsea, the ring. Elizabeth came out of her chair. No, thats wrong. If the oldest daughter doesnt have a daughter, the entire set goes to the second oldest daughter. Im the second oldest daughter. Similarly appalled, Anne uncrossed her legs. The pieces cant be divided. They were meant to be kept together. Whatever did Abby have in mind? She must have been confused, Malcolm decided by way of polite invalidation. Or she was influenced by someone else, Michael suggested by way of benign accusation. A Mahler would never divide up that set, Elizabeth insisted. The whole thing should be coming to me. Kevin stirred then, not much more than a shifting on his seat, but, given his prior immobility, enough to draw attention. In a voice that was gritty with grief but surprisingly firm, he said, The whole set should have gone to Chelsea. She is the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter. She isnt Abbys daughter, Elizabeth argued, not in the real sense, not in the sense of having our genes and being able to pass them on. Besides, look at her. Shes a career woman. She wont have a child. Even if she was of our blood ... Chelsea rose quietly and slipped out the door. She had no stomach for Elizabeths words. More than any of them, she was haunted by the fact that she had no Mahler blood. For years shed been trying to find out whose she did have, but Kevin had 12 Um Passions of Cbelaw K@e refused to discuss it, and Abby had been too frail to be pestered. So the issue had floated. Abby had been her mother in every sense that mattered. With her death Chelsea felt a sense of loss, a sense of coming unhinged, of losing ones anchor. Abby had loved her. Physical limitations notwithstanding, she had doted on her to the point of near suffocation. Many a time Chelsea had wanted to tell her to buzz off. But Abby was too kind for that, and Chelsea wouldnt have hurt her for the world. She had fallen into a good thing when shed been adopted. The Kane house was a haven. Love made it a secure, happy place. Nonetheless she had been curious. She had wanted to know why she had been adopted, why Abby couldnt have babies of her own, how she had been picked. She wanted to know where she had been born, who her birth parents were, and why they had given her up. Abby had explaine&, with a gentle care that Chelsea remembered even so many years after the fact, that her paralysis had made having children impossible for her, but that she and Kevin had badly wanted a child at the same time that a baby girl badly needed a home., The adoption had been private and closed. Abby claimed to know nothing, and Kevin agreed. Youre a Kane, he insisted even when Chelsea was at her most outlandish. It doesnt matter where you come from, as long as you know who you are now. Chelsea drew herself up before the gilt-edged mirror that hung over the console in the hall. She was as tall and slender as any of the Mahlers and as finely dressed, but that was where the similarities ended. She had green eyes to their blue, and her 13 Darbam Deungby I long hair was auburn, with the natural wave that the Mahler women envied only when waves were in style. Thanks to a motorcycle accident when she was seventeen that had resulted in a broken nose and subsequent surgery, Chelseas previously turned-up nose was small and straight. Likewise, thanks to a dental appliance that she had worn as a preteen, the chin that would have otherwise receded had been coaxed into perfect alignment with the rest of her features. She was an attractive woman. To deny it would have been an exercise in false modesty, and Chelsea was too forthright for that. She had come a long way from the unruly waist-length hair, kohl-lined eyes, and ragtag flower child look she had espoused as a teenager. Abby had been proud of the woman shed become. Now Abby was gone, and her family was in the library bickering over a set of jewels. Chelsea was sickened. Had it not been for Kevin, she would have walked out of the house. But she didnt want to leave him alone. He was crushed. After anticipating Abbys death for so many years, he was finding the actuality of it hard to accept. Chelsea could fault him for thick headedness on the matter of her adoption, but not for his absolute and unqualified love for Abby. The library door opened to Elizabeth and An . Well fight, you know, Elizabeth warned Chelsea as she strode past. Anne pulled their furs from the closet. The ring should remain in the family. Without another word-not the slightest gesture of consolation, encouragement, or farewell-they left. The front door had barely shut when Malcolm 14 The Paswons of CJWhmx XMW and Michael emerged from the library. Chelsea handed them their coats. Silently they put them on. Malcolm was fitting his hat to his head when he said, You made out quite well, Chelsea. She stood away with her hands by her sides. rm afraid I wasnt paying attention to the details. They didnt interest her now any more than they had then. You should have. Abigail has made you a wealthy woman. I was a wealthy woman before she died. Thanks to the Mahlers. This came from Michael, who pursed his lips at the black driving gloves he was pushing on finger by finger. Elizabeth and Anne are upset, and frankly I dont blame them. They have a point. That ring is worth a lot of money. You dont need the money, and you dont need the ring. It cant have anywhere near the sentimental value for you that it has for us. He raised his Mahler-blue eyes to hers. If youre half the woman Abby always claimed you were, youll give us the ring. Its the right thing to do.. Chelsea was thrown back in time to the parties her mother had given that the Mahlers had attended. Chelseas friends had been impressed. They saw the Mahlers as jet-setters who hobnobbed with princes and dukes in the glitter capitals of the world and who spoke the Queens English with flair. But Chelsea had never been charmed, then or now, by civilized speech expressing uncivilized thoughts. She wanted to feel resentment or defiance but didnt have the strength. As with her inheritance, she had little taste for adversity in the shadow of Abbys death. I cant think about this, I really cant, she said. 15 RWbr= Deungky If its a matter of having the ring appraised, Malcolm suggested, thats already been done. Graham has the papers. Its a matter of mourning. I need time. Dont take too much. The girls will likely go to court if you dont give up the ring on your own. With an upraised hand, Chelsea murmured, Not now, and took off for the kitchen. She was leaning against the center island beneath a tiara of copper pans when Graham burst through the door. Ahh, Chelsea, he breathed, I was worried youd left. Chelsea liked Graham. A contemporary of her parents, he had taken over as Abbys attorney after his father died. Over the years he had been a quiet constant in her life. Tucking her hands under her arms, she sent him a pleading look. Dont you start in on me, too, Graham. It was bad enough reading the will while Mothers still warm in her grave, but to bicker over it is disgusting. They wanted it read, now its been read, but I have no intention of looking at it, thinking about it, or acting on it until Ive had time to mourn her. She tossed a hand toward the front of the house. Theyre off to jet home and return to their lives as though nothing has changed, and maybe for them it hasnt, but it has for me, and it . nothing to do with inheriting whatever I inherited and being worth such-and-such more than I was before. I refuse to define my mothers life in terms of dollars and cents, so if thats what youre here to do, forget ft. Its not, Graham said, and drew an envelope from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. This is for YOU. 16 The Passions or Ljxcw..- Wanly she stared at the envelope. It was old and wom. If thats an ancient stock certificate, I dont want it, she said, though the envelope didnt look official by any measure. It was small in size, nondescript, and, even from where she stood Chelsea could see that there was no return address. Go on, Graham coaxed, nudging It closer. Abby wanted you to have it. Was this listed in her will? No* It was a private matter, something between her and me, and now you. Curious, Chelsea took the envelope and immediately noted its weight. There was something inside. She shifted it in her hand, then studied the address. The ink had smeared what was an. awkward scrawl to begin with, yet she made out her mothers name. She had more trouble deciphering the name beneath that. Graham helped out. It was sent care of my father. Thats his office address. He was the lawyer who represented your parents in the adoption. Chelsea had known that, but Grahams mentioning it out of the blue was startling. Her heart skipped a beat, then made up for it by starting to race. Her eyes flew to the postmark. ft too had faded with age, but its print was more legible than the scrawl beneath it. The date was November 8, 1959, the place Norwich Notch, New Hampshire? she read. Norich, Graham corrected. I was born there? Yes. She was stunned. Wondering where shed been born was as much a part of her as celebrating her birthday each March. To have an end suddenly put 17 MWrbwa PCOWAly to the wondering-to ask a question and receive a yes-was overwhelming. Nonvich Notch. She held the envelope in her hand as though it were something fragile, afraid to move it, lift It, open it. From across the room came Kevin Kanes somber voice. Whats that, Graham? Grahams eyes went from Chelseas face to the envelope in silent urging. She swallowed, then turned it over, lifted the flap, and drew out a piece of tissue paper that was as worn as the envelope itself. It looked to have been unfolded and refolded many times. Setting it carefully on the counter, she unfolded it but again. Inside, attached to a threadbare ribbon that had once been red but had long since lost its sheen, was a heavily tarnished silver key. At least, she thought it was a key. Its bow was a miniature French horn with coils ripe for the gripping, but its blade was unserrated, nothing more than a thin tube half the length of her thumb. An image flashed through her mind of the metronome that stood on the grand piano in her parents living room. That metronome had been her nemesis through years of laborious piano lessons. It was wound by a key with a similarly smooth blade. Bewildered, she raised her eyes to Grahams. Who sent it? He shrugged and shook his head. Is it a key? Abby thought so, but she never knew for sure. It arrived when you were five. For Kevins benefit, he added an apologetic, Since it was addressed to Abby, my father had no choice but to pass it on. Chelsea followed his gaze. There was no reason 18 Ike Paswons of Cbehwa Kom why he shouldnt have, she said to her father. His frame filled the doorway, stately in spite of his tired eye d the weight that lay heavy on his shoulders. S an Oh, yes, there was, Kevin contended. His feel- on the subject hadnt changed over the years, not with Chelseas reaching adulthood, not now @,with Abbys death. You were ours from the time you were eight hours old. We raised you and loved you. Your mother didnt want to know where youd come from. She didnt have to know it. That information was irrelevant. it still is. Everything that you are today came from us. Chelsea knew that wasnt true. She had neither the purebred Mahler look nor Kevin Kanes grooved chin, thin lips, and ruddy complexion, and whereas both the Mahlers and the Kanes were musically inclined, she was tone-deaf. But she wasnt about to argue with Kevin on that score. In thebest of times he was threatened by the thought of her going after her birth parents, and these were far from the best of times. He was in pain. So was she, and his distance didnt help. She couldnt bear the thought of driving him farther away. Nor, though, could she ignore the key. Laying it in the palm of her hand, she ran her thumb over it front and back. Who sent it? she asked again. Abby never knew, Graham said. She received it exactly as you have it now. Setting down the key, Chelsea flattened out the tissue paper and studied one side, then the other. Likewise she turned the envelope over and back. There was no writing other than what was on the front, no sign of a message. There had to have been a note. 19 She said there wasnt. She also said she didnt know where I was born,@ Chelsea blurted out, because the realization that Abby had lied to her stung. Even worse was the thought that Kevin knew more. Her eyes found his. Did you know she had this? Slowly he shook his head. The measuredness of the gesture expressed his anger. Id have prevented it if I could have. She had enough to worry about without agonizing over a key. Feeling an overwhelming sadness, Chelsea said, There wouldnt have been any agonizing if shed simply given it to me. if shed done that, youd have run off. Because of a key? I dont even know what its supposed to unlock! . Youd have found out, he said gruffly. Thats your way. When youre curious about something, you follow it through. His tone mellowed. It was one of the things your mother most admired in you. You had the courage that she didnt. Chelsea was astonished. She had more courage than any one of us. Kevin remained mellow in memorys grip. She didnt see it that way. She was bound by her family nearly as much as she was by her leg braces, while you broke free. You did the things she might have liked to have done. You looked for challenges and met every one. She loved the flower child you were, just as much as she loved the club swimming champ. His mouth went flat, his tone hard. Anyway, thats why she must have agonized over that key. She knew that youd have taken that curiosity of yours and run off in search of elusive parents who didnt want you in the first place. 20 MW passions Of OWIMM @Unfair, Chelsea whispered, feeling a knot in her . She ached for Kevin, who was afraid that two @:@qthers would usurp his and Abbys places in her _,,:,beart. But she ached for herself, too, because the last thing she wanted to believe was that she was simply because abortion had been illegal at the time of her conception. Turning the key in her hand, she said softly, I wou dn t have run anywhere. I certainly wouldnt ,@have hurt you and Mom. Youre my parents. Thatll never change. She so wanted him to understand. Its just that Ive always wanted to know about the other. It was a deeply emotional subject for her. She doubted anyone but another adoptee would understand the sense of rejection that came with having been given away at birth, the isolation she felt at family gatherhigs the incompletion that nagged and nagged. But this wasnt the time to piggyback one emotional subject on another. With care, she set the key In the middle of the tissue. and folded the paper as Abby had apparently done so many times. She returned the small package to its envelope and s ippe li d the envelope into the pocket of her silk dress. Raising her head, she said to Kevin, Youre right. Its not important now. As though to show him that Abby did indeed live on through her, she turned to Graham with much the same poise that her mother would have shown in equally trying times and said, Cook makes an incredible potted chicken. Youll join us for dinner, wont you? Kevin knew Chelsea well. She was indeed a doer. When her college grade point-average had been 21 RAFtora De0why lacking, shed won acceptance as a graduate student at Princeton by literally planting herself and an impressive portfolio in the offices of the Department of Architecture. When shed decided that she wanted her first apartment to be something loftlike in ways that nothing in Baltimore was at that time, she had presented a schematic design to one of the citys hot real estate developers, with promise of free working drawings to follow if he would buy the building she had in mind and take on the project. When shed found herself with two partners in a brand-new architectural firm, shed designed a striking logo and sent handwritten letters to every prospective client she could find in her personal address book. Given that shed grown up with frequent exposure to her mothers family contacts and her fathers professional ones, that address book was expansive. Fier challenge now was the tarnished silver key. She tried to ignore it at first. It Was a wedge between Kevin and her at a time when she could least afford one. But the key wouldnt be ignored, seeming to blare its silent presence from wherever she chose to hide it. Likewise, the name Norwich Notch came to have a familiar ring. She wondered whether some mystical force inside her was connecting with her birthplace or whether she had simply said the name so many times now that it rolled easily through her thoughts. An atlas at the library told her that the town was in the southwestern corner of New Hampshire and had a population of eleven hundred. But she found no mention of it in other books through which she browsed. She did find reference to it in the phone book 22 The pagamns of awimm Amw for the Keene-Peterborough area. Among other listings were the Norwich Notch Town Clerk, the Norwich Notch Congregational Church, and the Norwich Notch Community Hospital, any of which might have information on her birth. So her reading told her, and she had read almost every major article on adoption published in recent years. She knew about searches. They were done all the time in the enlightened nineties. Social workers leaned increasingly toward shared information between birth parents and adoptees. Open adoptions were in vogue. She could pick up the phone and make a call. She could fly to Boston and drive north or fly to Manchester and drive west. She could drive all the way from Baltimore if she wanted to, but she didnt. She wasnt ready to do any of those things. Not so soon after Abbys death. Not with Kevin so sensitive. Not with the reality of Norwich Notch so new. She needed time to adjust to its existence. The key, though, fast became an old friend. After holding it, turning it in her hand, studying it night after night for a week, she took out a jar of silver polish and, taking care not to wet the frayed ribbon, worked the cream between each of the miniature slides. With every bit as much care, she rinsed it and dried it. Free of tarnish, the key was a beautifully intricate thing. It looped lyrically, with detailing that Chelsea guessed was exact. Though the slim blade extending from the mouthpiece was nicked at spots, the horn itself was in perfect condition. As she buffed its slides with the pad of her thumb, she fancied that a genie might appear in a puff of smoke and tell her everything she wanted to know. But the night was 23 Jhw*AM Ddhwhy The rasskmas Of Owleca Kane quiet, and she remained alone. She had so many questions, so many questionsthe major one being who had sent it and w YThirty-two years was a long time. People die . Situations changed. Then again, she wondered whether the key wasnt as crucial to her search as the postmark. Norwich Notch. So familiar. It sounded rural and charming; it could well be dirt poor and depressed. She wasnt sure she wanted to find out which; she wasnt sure she could resist finding out. Meanwhile, the lure of the key grew. The more she studied it, the more intrigued she was not by the perfection of its crafting, but by the irregularity of the nicks on its blade. They were signs of useuse by people somehow related to her. She imagined many different scenarios, all variations of those shed dreamed up as a child. Her biological parents were always poor but in love. In once instance they were teenagers, too young and frightened to keep her. In another instance her father was married to someone else but desperately in love with her mother. In a third instance her parents were married to each other, with seven children already and no possible way to support an eighth. Chelsea dwelt on that last possibility for a long time, because the thought of having one sibling, let alone seven, excited her. She had always wanted a brother or sister. She had begged Abby for one. In time shed accepted that one child was as much as a woman with two useless legs and dubious health, could handle, but she didnt stop wanting a sibling. As she saw it, a sibling was tied to a person in a way that friends werent. She had grown up with hordes of friends, but she missed that other, special rela- 24 7i tionship. There were times when she felt a distinct sense of loss. ften than not she During those times, more o turne t d o Carl. 25 two [D LIKE A LARGE DOUBLE-CHEESE PEPPERONI pizza with green pepper, mushroom, and onion, Carl Harper said into the phone. He was grinning his let-good-old-Carl-fix-everything grin at Chelsea, who could only roll her eyes in return. She was exhausted. They had returned to the office after making a twilight -presentation for a health center that she had been hired to design. Normally shed have made it herself, but with Abbys death so fresh, she wasnt focusing the way she normally would. Carl had come along riding shotgun, and though she hadnt run into trouble, she was glad hed been there. He was Chelseas oldest and dearest friend. His father and Kevin Kane had interned together in the fifties, and their families had been close ever since. For as longas Chelsea could remember, the Harpers had summered in Newport in a house two blocks from the Kanes. Being the same age and both lonely onlies, Chelsea and Carl had meshed well. Where she was impulsive, he was practical. Where she was daring, he was sensible. He made 26 me passions Of Cilerwa JLMW her think, she made him feel. They moderated each other well. Chelsea remeinbered the time, roughly between the ages of five and ten, when she had assumed that she would grow up to marry Carl. Then shed moved into her teens, and the idea of marriage had taken a backseat to things like puberty, the Beatles, and vegetarianism, which shed espoused from the time she was twelve until shed turned fifteen and had had an intense Big Mac attack. Carl had indulged her all that and more. Hed lived vicariously through her, and, in turn, hed always been there when shed needed a friend. Being partners in their own firm was a natural evolution from the days of building sand castles together. Carl was the technician of the two, the businessman. As apt to be drawn to a job for its Investment potential as for its architectural challenge, he matched Chelsea penny for penny in their financial ventures. Within the firm he was the one who focused on getting projects, who identified their competition for public work, who saw that they were published in Architectural Record or P@qgressive Architecture. Chelsea was the one with the creative spark and the spirit. She was the artist. She wasnt feeling either spark or spirit just then, though. Shed been running from appointment to appointment all day, making up for the week shed spent mourning Abby. She felt drained. Returning to work had been hard. Twenty minutes, Carl said, hanging up the phone. Can you last? Of course. Do me another favor? When he raised his brows, she said, Call Dad. See if hes okay. This is the first night I havent been with him. Carl called. His conversation with Kevin was 27 Barbara Deunshy quiet and brief, comfortable in the way of an old friend. Whenhe hung up the phone, he told Chelsea, Hes going over to my parents house. Said things were fine at the hospital. Hes pleased youre with me. She smiled. I think he got tired of my company. But it was a nice time, in an odd kind of way. After a while, he began to talk. Reminisce. He told me stories of his time with Mom before she got sick. I didnt expect hed do that. Hes usually so private. Carl crossed to her chair. So are you lately. Standing behind her, he began to knead the tension from her shoulders. Its been tough, huh? Yeah. I miss her. Itll get better. I know. More easily for me than for Dad, thoughi feel so bad for him. I keep trying to think of things to say or do to cheer him up. Youve been with him. He needed that. I sometimes wonder, she mu:@ed, brooding as she had so often of late. Kevin had always defined his relationship with Chelsea in terms of gentle smiles and timely gifts. He was a busy man. His days at the hospital were long, and once home his first priority had always been Abby. That was why, tragic though the circumstances were, Chelsea so cherished his leisurely sharing of time and thoughts. We probably spent more time together in the last week than in all of last year. But I cant be her, and shes what he wants. She closed her ey@s and swiveled her head in a slow circle to complement the work of Carls hands. Mmmm. You know just where to touch. She inhaled, ordered her muscles to relax, exhaled. 28 The Paswons of Cbelsea Kane *Carl? Hmm? Do you think the Hunt-Omni will go condo? There had been rumor of the hotel being sold. It wasntt a huge one by New York standards, but if the rooms were to be turned into condominium apartments, there would be a fine architectural challenge to be had. Looks that way. I talked with John Baker about ft. Hes as close to the buyer group as anyone is. He knows were interested. Chelsea had never done a hotel conversion before. It would be a prize, just the thing to fill her thoughts while the pain of Abbys death began to fade. And then there was the other. It was preoccupying her nearly as much as missing Abby. She caught Carls hands and gave them a squeeze, then rose from the chair, went to her briefcase, and took out the small tissue package. Whatcha got? he asked, coming close. She unfolded the tissue and put the key in her palm i@ow. He picked it up, turned it over. Whats it for? It winds things up. My jeweler-whom she had seen between appointments earlier that daysays it goes to a music box. Carl continued to study it, turning it this way and that. Where did you get it? My mother gave it to Graham to give to me. It was sent from a small town in New Hampshire called Norwich Notch. I was born there. His eyes went to her face. How did you find that out? He knew of the adoption, knew of her frustra- 29 fiarbarv Definshy tion at not knowing who she was, and though Chelsea had occasionally sensed that he agreed with Kevin about its irrelevancy, he listened patiently to her talk. That was what the postmark said. Graham confirmed it. His father handled the adoption. Wow. Norwich Notch? She nodded. Why does that sound familiar? Her eyes lit. Does it to you, too? Ive said the name so many times by now that Ive lost my objectivity. Norwich Notch. He grew focused. Chelsea could see him flipping through the files in his mind. Finally, frowning, he shook his head. Nothings coming. Where is it in New Hampshire? Near the southwest corner. Ahhh, he said. That explains it. Weve either passed by or through it on the way north to ski. Weve probably seen signs. She didnt remember seeing a sign, but she had a feeling that he was right. He had a good memory, and besides, it made sense. No doubt the name of the town had registered subliminally. So who sent it? Carl asked. She shrugged. No return address? No note? Nothing. Just a postmark on an envelope that Mom wore thin opening and closing. The image of that haunted Chelsea. I wonder what she was thinking all that time. Certainly not that shed lose Chelsea. She was sure of Chelseas love. Chelsea suspected that if shed agonized over the key, it was about Kevins reaction to it. Carl placed the key back in her hand. What will 30 1herassion s of Chelsea Ame 1Z do with it? This is a clue to Im n ot sure. But something who I am. I cant ignore it. What does Kevin say? Chelsea turned a thumb down, then watched Carl ,,grow thoughtful. He crossed to the window, where, six floors below, the Inner Harbor was alive with , lights. He isnt totally off the wall, Chels. Put yourself in his shoes. Hes just lost Abby. Hes afraid of losing you, too. She scowled. Thats like saying a father loses his daughter when she gets married-no, dont shake your head, Carl, it is the same. Hes my father. Hell be that regardless of what I find. The fact is that they gave me up while he took me in. Ill love him forever for that. She meant it, but that didnt mean she had to be blindly obedient. She had never been blindly obedient in, her life. Whats wrong with my wanting to know the circumstances surrounding my birth? Kids ask their parents all the time. You know. Yeah. I was a mistake. Not a mistake. A wonderful surprise, as your parents put it, and theyre the first ones to say that in hindsight theyre glad you came when you did, even if they panicked at the time. Thats a terrific story, and the fact is that you know it. Id like to know mine. There was a huge void where certain knowledge should have been, a void that made her feel alone. You might not like it, he warned. She had considered that possibility. More than a nightmare or two had been mixed in with her dreams. Her birth father could be a murderer, her mother a whore, her siblings morons. Worse, they 31 Rwbara Definvaky might not want any part of her, which would bring up to date the feeling of having been rejected at birth. Youre right, she said, I might not, but at least Id know. Its the wondering that gets to me sometimes. I can accept the truth. I can understand it and rationalize it. But as things stand now, I feel like my life is in limbo, like I cant go out and really be the next generation until I know what the last one was. After the briefest pause, Carl said, Youre talking about marriage and kids. She held his gaze, sighed, then smiled. He had a knack of cutting through the frills to the nuts and bolts. Maybe I am. Sure you are. Its the most obvious thing in the world. Youve never been married, never had kids, and youd love both, you know you would. I havent had time for either. Okay, he conceded, you havent had time, but you do now. The firm is established. Business is good and getting better each year. Our investments are paying off. We have real momentum going. You could be relaxing a little, spending time with a husband or working out of a home studio while a baby naps. Youre thirty-seven. Youre not getting any younger. Neither are you, but I dont see you rushing off to get married. Whats happening with Hailey? Hailey Smart was a lawyer in an office two floors below theirs. She was pixieish and enterprising, and she was dynamite in court. Chelsea liked her. He wrinkled his nosc. Haileys too offbeat for me. She is not. Shes super. Im constantly out of breath when Im with her. 32 The Passaans of Cbejaw Kane hel grinned. Thats passion, my friend. age. Besides, Hailey isnt you. its old he sound of a buzzer announced the pizzas val. Since everyone else had left for the day, they for it themselves. Carl wrapped an arm around waist as they walked. Ive been in love with you since I was two years Id he said. Youre my best friend in the world. flow could I ever marry Hailey with you in my life? Have you and Hailey talked marriage? Chelsea asked in surprise. She hadnt thought it had gone Ahat far. She talked marriage, Carl specified. That surprised Chelsea more than the other. Mailey struck her as the kind to wait until the last inute to marry. At twenty-nine she had time. Her was barely into adolescence. Hailey believes, he went on almost tongue-in- .,cheek but not quite, that she can do whatever she sets her mind to. That means being a lawyer, a wife, and a mother all at the same time. If that girl has her way, shell be nursing a baby in the judges cham bers. When Chelsea laughed, he said, She told me so. She has it all planned. Shell wear sophisticated clothes and play the part of the successful attorney to the hilt, only shell let the courtroom know that recesses are for milk. She says the juxtaposition of the two images will be irresistible. She says shell have the jurors eating out of her hand. They arrived in the reception area, which was separated by chic partitions from the larger drafting room. The entire space, which had been built to Chelseas design, was high-ceilinged and open, with an abundance of windows and skylights to counter the deep russet of the exposed brick. The furnish- 33 Awbwa neunsay ings, leaned heavily on glass and chrome and, while practical, were also state-of-the-ea sleek Track lighting glowing low, gave gentle relief from the night. Carl paid for the pizza. They retraced their steps, past the workstations of the three draftspeople and the project architect who supervised them, to the area where the principals offices were. They went into Chelseas. She promptly picked up the conversation where theyd left off, because his words were echoing in her mind. She felt oddly unsettled. Carl had been hers, albeit innocently, for so long.. Do you love Halley? He cleared her drafting table of several sketches and set the pizza there. I love you. Seriously, Carl. I am serious, he said, then disappeared into his own office and reappeared seconds later with a handful of napkins. Im used to you, Chels. When Im with other women, I feel like Im betraying you. You shouldnt. Were not bound together that way. Maybe we should be, he said with such seriousness that she was even more startled. Then he took a bite of pizza and spoiled the effect. Half of the topping slid off and fell back into the box. He scooped it up carefully, replaced it on top of the pizza, folded the piece, and tried again. Chelsea took an easy bite. She was trying to figure out where he was headed when he said, Ive been thinking about this a lot since Abby died. I guess its natural. When you lose someone close to you, YOU face mortality. You think about all the things you want that you may miss out on if you dont do some- 34 ibe Famsions of Chrjaen Ame 4ng about getting them. Were both thirty-seven. @Ither of us has married, mainly because we have other. Why not make it official? Chelsea was taken totally off-guard by the suggestion, not to mention the earnestness of it. She put down her piz. za and asked weakly, Is that a proposair I suppose it is. Youre not supposed to suppose, she cried, frustrated because she didnt know how to react, Youre supposed to know. She had a sudden thought. Are your parents on your back again. They adore you. I adore them, but thats no basis for a marriage. He cracked an unsure smile. You dont adore me, too? Her heart ached. I do, but I dont know that Im in love with you, any more than youre in love with me. Weve never really thought along those lines. Carl was always just there. She didnt see him in a romantic role, certainly not a sexual role-which didnt mean it wasnt possible, simply that she wasnt used to thinking that way. We could give it a try, he said. See if it flies. She curved a hand around his neck. Oh ,, Im not sure I can think of marriage. Im still thinking of Mom, and then theres the key. Youvre right. Knowing who I am has everything to do with my being wary of getting married and having kids. God only knows what kinds of genetic defects Im carrying. I dont care about defects. I want to know who I am. But why cant we think about it? Were so close. I feel like we owe it to ourselves to see if we can be closer. 35 Hey, you guys! came a chiding call from the door along with Melissa Koos smooth entrance. I thought we agreed there wouldnt be hanky-panky in the office. Grateful for the interruption, Chelsea chuckled. She wasnt fast to remove her hand, though. She craved touching and closeness and found comfort in the familiarity of Carl. She had a history with him that she didnt have with many other people. Even Melissa, whom shed met at graduate school and adored on the spot for her artistic eccentricity, was an acquaintance of less than ten years. As close as they were, it wasnt the- same. Carl was like a brother. With him there were family, friends, and memories. Maybe he was right. Just because they hadnt thought of a romantic involvement. before didnt mean it was no good. Maybe the timing had been wrong before. Maybe once she got used to the idea of marrying him, it would seem perfectly natural. For now, though, she simply gave him a pat. To Melissa she said, What are you doing back here so late? Melissa was model-slender to the point of being gaunt. She needed a smile to soften her face and a grin to light it up. The grin was what she gave Chelsea now, and it was dazzling. I had drinks with Peter Shorn We got the Datamile job. Chelsea grinned back. Datamlle, a private data bank that had just gone public, was building three separate centers, one each in Baltimore, Atlanta, and Denver. Melissas design was far more daring than data-processing centers usually went. Once completed, the structures would be eye-catching. Thats great! 36 The Passions Of Chelsea KAIW ,Definitely prize material, Carl predicted. I hope so, Melissa said, and her voice grew wry, ,because we lost the Akron Arena. Chelseas grin faded. We did? Unofficially. But word is that Baker, Wills, and Crock are breaking out the champagne, which says they know something we dont. My guess is well get a call tomorrow. She spotted the silver key in its tissue nest on the coffee table. Whoa. Whats that? She picked it up, turned it over and back, end on end. Chelsea gave her a brief background on the key. When she reached the part about Norwich Notch, Melissa frowned at Carl. Why does that sound familiar? Chelsea looked from one face to the other. When it sounded familiar to me, I put it down to my imagination. When it sounded familiar to you, Carl, I put it down to coincidence. But if it sounds familiar to you, too, Melissa, there has to be something to it. So where have we heard the name? Skiing, Carl insisted. Chelsea shook her head. Melissa doesnt ski. Try New Hampshire. What have we done in New Hampshire? Cluster housing in Portsmouth, a sports center in Sunapee, and ice sculptures at Dartmouths Winter Festival, Melissa said, but Hanover isnt Norwich Notch. Maybe were thinking of Peyton Place. Thats in New Hampshire, isnt it? Sorry, sweetheart, Peyton Place is fictitious, Carl said. Sos Knots Landing, but that could be whats making Norwich Notch sound familiar. She joined them at the drafting table. Norwich Notch. Norwich 37 AWrbwu Delhoaly Notch. She picked at a crumb of the pizza. Do we know someone from Norwich Notch? Eerie question, Chelsea breathed, since my blood relations may all live there. Mother, father, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins-the list could be endless. It boggles the mind. Norwich Notch, Melissa murmured, and raised her head. Give me time. Itll come. Given that the one thing Carl, Chels ea, and Melissa had in common was architecture, Chelsea reasoned that if all of them had heard of Norwich Notch before, it had to have been in the context of work. For that reason she spent the next morning poring over her flies for even the briefest reference to the town. When she found none, she called a friend with whom she had worked in the days ,before Harper, Kane, Koo. When she struck out there, too, she called a professor at Princeton with whom shed kept in touch, but to no avail. She was determined to solve the mystery. She and her two partners had all heard of Norwich Notch, and she wanted to know how. Fired up, she boldly took her appointment book from her purse, turned to the page on which she had jotted the Norwich Notch numbers, and, without allowing time for doubt, called the town clerk. Within minutes she had her answer. She was hanging up the phone when Melissa strode through the door waving a file folder. It was the Wentworth Art Center. Not in New Hampshire. In Maine. She broke off when, coming from his own end of the hall, Carl walked through the door and said, I 38 ne Faswons of Owimw Kmw member now. Harper, Kane, Koo hadnt been joing for more than six months. We were bidding . that art center on the coast of Maine-@ Wentworth, Melissa supplied. Thats it, he said with satisfaction, and looked at Chelsea. We needed the job, so we bid low, but it was tough. They wanted stone. Granite, Chelsea specified, sitting back in her chair with her heart beating fast. Its six times as hard as marble and wears like iron. They wanted it ,:-for its ability to withstand the salt air, and we agreed that it would, but we also wanted a graygreen shade that would blend with the shoreline. ,We contacted dozens of quarries for estimates. -@,-,Jmported stone was too pricey, and besides, we , local stone would be more appropriate. 111@She took an expectant breath. One of the quarries we contacted, and rejected, was in Norwich Notch, New Ham pshire. 39 th re I n early February Chelsea received a phone call from Michael Mahler. The tougher of the brothers, though ever courtly, he asked if Chelsea had given further thought to the ruby ring. Indeed she had, in the context of holding something dear that Abby had held dear. Of the three pieces, the ring was the one Abby had worn most. That meant a lot to Chelsea, which was why she said, it was my mothers. It was her wish that I have it. Then you wont give it up? I cant do that. Come now, Chelsea, Michael chided in his superior way, she was quite ill at the end of her life. Do you honestly suppose she was thinking clearly when she decided to break up a set that has been together for generations? Chelsea didnt have a doubt in the world about that. She was thinking clearly. At no time, not even at the very end, was she anything but lucid, and I know, Michael, far more so than you. You came in time for the funeral. Dad and I were with her 40 me Passfons of Che&es Kow ugh the difficult weeks before. Unduly influencing her decisions, no doubt. Taking care of her. Making her last days as com- fortable as possible. She was lucid. A dozen people will attest to that. But it doesnt make sense, he whined. Think about it. Think about it. Three matching pieces of jewelry. Theyre a set.. Chelsea was feeling as calm as she sounded. It occurred to her that with Abbys death, the Mahlers had become less threatening. Her emotional connection with them, always tentative at best, was broken. Once upon a time she would have dreaded that. Having roots was all-important to her, and it still was, but her frame of reference had shifted. As she saw it now, her root system included Abby and Kevin and whoever existed, past and present, in Norwich Notch. The Mahlers didnt matter. Like a balloon released in the breeze, she had been set free. Mother never wore the rubies as a set, she said buoyantly. She was too classy for that. How Elizabeth or Anne can think of doing so is beyond me. Michaels voice chilled. What they do once they have the jewels is their business, but we all want the set to remain in the family. I agree. Thats why Im keeping the ring. I want to give it to my own daughter someday. But your daughter wont be a Mahler any more than you are. Legally she will, just as I am, Chelsea said. I have court papers to that effect, Michael. No judge will deny them. If youd like, you can try it and see. Graham will very happily represent me, but believe 41 Barbara Demnshy me when I say that you havent got a case. Graham confirmed that. He guessed that the Mahlers next step would be to offer Chelsea money for the ring. Nowhere near what its worth, mind you, he cautioned, but they seem to feel its the principle of the thing. It was the principle of the thing for Chelsea, too. They could offer me ten times its value, and I wouldnt sell, she vowed, and I can be as stubborn as a Mahler any day. Graham folded his hands over his middle. There we have prima-facie evidence that some traits are le@rned rather than inherited. Or is stubbornness something that was inborn in one or both of my birth parents and then passed along to me? I dont know that. Neither do 1, which is the other reason Im here. Had the issue of the wills legality been the only thing on her mind, she might have simply called on the phone. What do you know about my adoption? My father wont tell me a thing, but Im an adult. Its my right to know. Why is it suddenly so important to you? Because my mother is dead. Because she wanted me to have a clue to my past. Because her family keeps telling me Im not one of them, and I want to know whd I am one of. Graham pondered. that for a minute before finally saying, Theres not much to tell. The adoption was privately arranged. The files were closed and sealed. I One of the things Chelsea had learned was that closed files could be opened and sealed ones 42 ift ragskas of chelmm KOW She could ask Graham to took into it for ber but that would put him in an uncomfortable vis-A-vis Kevin-and Kevin would know -what she was doing, which would create a stir at a Aime when Abbys death was too fresh. She could wait. There was more to be learned from less threatening sources. Why didnt my parents work through an agency? e asked. 7- sh He frowned at his hands. My guessoperative word, guess-is that your mothers illness made her a less than ideal candidate for adopting a child. Its possible that your parents went to an agency and were turned down. Yes, it was possible, Chelsea realized-stupid, given what a wonderful mother Abby had been, but possible. It was also possible that they had taken the private route for another reason. Kevin was a private man. He drew distinct lines between person- - al friends and acquaintances and colleagues. I Chelsea had seen him in action. She knew for a fact that he could invite guests to the club for dinner who didnt know, until they met her there, that Abby was crippled. Likewise, he never broadcast the fact that Chelsea was adopted. When Abby talked of it, he clammed up. Indeed, the engraved announcement sent out soon after Chelseas birth hadnt mentioned the word once. She imagined that he had wanted the process over and done with as neatly and quickly as possible. The private route would have accomplished that. So they went to your father, she said. How did e arrange it? Did he go looking, or did he coincidentally bump into a baby? A little of both, from what I gather. He made 43 Barbara Deuns*y some discreet inquiries, one of which was to a lawyer who had been contacted not long before that by a lawyer from Norwich Notch. Do you know his name? No. Do you know if hes still in Norwich Notch? No. I dont even know if hes still alive. Do you have your fathers old files? Some. Not the one you want, though. I cataloged the files after he died. It wasnt there. Maybe it was under a false heading. Graham shook his head. What I cataloged, I opened and read. Theres no file on you, Chelsea. She assumed there had been one once. All lawyers kept files. Kevin would have been uncomfortable with its existence and had it destroyed, but she refused to be discouraged. There were other ways to get the same information. Then you know nothing about my birth parents. How about Norwich Notch? Did you know that its a granite town? When he shook his head, she said, We actually got a bid from the granite company there-Plum Graniteon a job we were doing several years back. The bid wasnt particularly competitive. The quality of the granite was above average, but there was no on-site preparation. Everything had to be cut and polished elsewhere, which added to the cost. That doesnt sound very efficient to me. Im surprised theyre still in business. Oh, they are, Chelsea said. Plum Granite is the towns major employer. And she was an architect with a recurring need for granite. It was the perfect excuse. She could go to Norwich Notch, New Hampshire, to inspect the stone. Architects did that 44 nm passions of 00 maw have resources at the tips of the time simply to -Aheir fingers. Graham was eyeing her knowingly. I, ot going there, she said. m n Why not? She slipped her purse strap to her shoulder and stood. For the same reason that I havent hired a private investigator. Ive been wondering about that. You can afford t. in terms of money, yes. Not emotions. Not yet. Grahams look recalled what Kevin had said about her being the kind of person to run with the ball. Youll go up there at some point. Probably. e. She frowned, then shrugged. Mayb But not now. She moved toward the door rm feeling confused. There are times when things happen-like getting Michaels phone call-that make me desperate to know who I am. At those times rm so hungry for information that the fear recedes. I show the key to a jeweler or call the Norwich Notch Town Clerk or bombard you with questions. Then that satisfies me for a while and I back off. She was feeling nowhere near the urgency she had felt when shed first arrived at Grahams office. I wondered what information you had. Now I know. Kevin was late, which wasnt like him at all. He was usually as punctual as he was orderly. If he was scheduled for surgery at seven in the morning, he was scrubbed and ready to go precisely then. If he said hed be home at eight, that was just when he walked through the door. Chelsea was her fathers daughter. If she had an 45 Barbam Definsky appointment to meet with a developer at ten, she presented herself and her portfolio at his office at ten. If she was invited to a cocktail party that started at six, she appeared at her hosts door at six. Her friends teased her about it. They warned that she wouldnt last long in society unless she learned to be late. But Chelsea wasnt concerned about her position in society. She was already as much a part of it as she cared to be. Social climbing wasnt on her must-do list. Pleasing Kevin Kane was. She hadnt lived in the large suburban house with him since graduating from architectural school eight years before, and it had been even longer than that, thanks to the Mahler trust, since shed been financially dependent on him. Still, she craved his approval. It was tied in with her need for love, acceptance, and family connections. That approval had come in fits and starts in the weeks since Abbys death, not because Chelsea had done anything wrong but because Kevin had beeb, so down. He put in a full day of work, more so than Chelsea felt a sixty-eight-year-old man should, then he came home and, buried himself in his journals. When she phoned him, she felt she was dragging him from a greater distance than ever. That was why shed started to meet him for dinner. Face to face, she stood a better chance of getting through. She glanced at her watch. He was ten minutes late. She was sure he had agreed to meet her on I hursday evening at seven in the sitting room of the country club. She had even arrived early. Would you like a drink while you wait for Dr. Kane? Her eyes flew to the uniformed waiter who had 46 MW pam&ns of CAMtwa AMC -. @ome up on the side. Uh ... yes, thatd be nice. My usual, Norman. And bring my father his. He should be here any minute. Saying it aloud made her feel better in ways that a glance out the window didnt. It was a rainy February night, very dark, very thick and enveloping. She had visions of him skidding on a slick patch of road, or swerving to avoid another car and hitting a tree, or misjudging a turn. He wasnt young, and he was all she had left. The thought of anything happening to him terrified her. At times like these, when she feared for Kevins well-being, she thought of Norwich Notch and whom else she might have. Then he appeared at the door, and, relieved, she rose from the sofa with a broad smile. I was worried. She put an arm around him and kissed his cheek. Sorry, sweetheart. He returned her kiss. tried to reach you at the office to warn you Id be late, but youd already left. Is everything ok#7 I got a late call on a consult. He gestured her onto the sofa and settled near y. Is Carl in the mens room? No. Hes playing squash. Kevins face dropped. I thought he was joining us. He always plays squash on Thursday nights, Chelsea explained, but she felt bad. Since Abby had died, so few things gave Kevin pleasure that she hated denying him one. Carl was one, apparently more so than shed thought. s in a league. They count on him being there. I was counting on him being here. 47 Bmtwu Deffigsky You didnt mention ft. I didnt think I had to. I thought you two went everywhere together. He looked up to take his Scotch and water from Norman. With a hefty swra-llow, he settled back in the sofa. Chelsea held her wineglass in both hands, trying to decide whether it was anger or fatigue that was making him cross. After a minute she said, Does that bother you? That you spend so much time with Carl? Of course not Carl is like a son to me. Id be thrilled if you married him. So would Tom and Sissy. In fact, Tom was talking about ft just the other day. He was trying to find out if I knew more than he did. I told him you were a big girl and that ft was none of my business. More tentatively he said, Maybe I was wrong. Im your father. He looked suddenly awkward. Youre not a little girl anymore. But I care about you. Whats going on with Cad? Traditionally Kevin had been the one to inquire into her work, leaving matters of the heart for Abby, and although there was something adorable in his discomfort now, there was sadness, too. Chelsea wished Abby were there. Were- she searched for the words to explain what was happening without giving false hope-trying things out. I would have thought youd already done that, Kevin remarked. Youre old friends. For five years now youve been business partners, too. But weve never dated in the traditional sense. is it working? She grinned crookedly. So blunt. I dont have time to beat around the bush. Neither do you, honey. If you want kids, youd better be quick about it. 48 nw PASSIMM Of Owifica Kenc I have time. Not much, if you want healthy kids. The risks get ,@@,-,@Oreater each year. On impulse, because it had been preying heavily her mind for so long, she said, The risks of age ,,.can be handled with good prenatal care. Other risks not so. I have no idea what Ive inherited. My medi-background is a blank. He scowled. Its sound. I checked. Checked how? Asked. She pressed her lips together. Signed papers were one thing, a nonbinding asking something else. Do you think someone desperate to place a child necessarily tells the truth? I got the truth. He knew thered be hell to pay if I didnt. Whos he? Kevin hesitated a second too long. Walter Fritts. Leave it, one part of her said, but the other part just couldnt. She thought of the file that Graham had never seen and was sure Kevin knew more than he said. She stared at the pale liquid in her wineglass until it settled into mirror smoothness. Youre right. If I want children, I should have them soon, but theres a part of me thats terrified. How can I be a good mother if I dont know who I am? You know who you are. Youre a fine person, and as far as being a good mother goes, you had the best as a model. Chelsea tried again. fts an emotional thing. I feel incomplete..You wouldnt if you had a wonderful husband and some wonderful kids, he said in a voice that 49 Aarbam Demnshy was low but robust. Theyd make you forget about all you dont know, because youd realize that it doesnt matter. Youd be fulfilled as a person. So would Carl. Tom and Sissy and I would be happy.- I know your mother would have been. She always wanted you to marry Carl. A pained sound came from the back of Chelseas throat. Ah, the guilt. No guilt. Just common sense. You and Carl are a perfect match. I dont know what youre waiting for. He made things sound so simple, all blacks and whites, which was very much how he saw the world. Grays were too vague for his consideration, and perhaps in his position at the hospital that had to, be so. Someone had to make decisions. A test was run, or it wasnt. An operation was performed, or it wasnt. Chelsea wasnt blessed with such decisiveness when it involved who she was. She saw grays. She saw large chasms. She saw gulfs filled with people who were tied to her by blood; only their names and faces were indistinct. But Kevin couldnt understand. Even now his expression was dark. In an attempt to brighten it, she said, Maybe youre right. Maybe Carl and I will decide were compatible. Maybe well do it big with the long white wedding dress and the three-tiered cake and enough champagne to flood the club. The furrows on his brow eased. He raised his Scotch in a silent toast to that image. But if I consider all that, the driven side of her said, all of which I know will make you happy, you have to do something for me. You have to be hon- 50 The passimm of CJjeimm Kam You have to put yourself in my position. Right wrong, good or bad, this matters to me. If you ,*now an ything more than youve told me about W,@:ere I. come from, Id like to know. Kevin took the drink that he hadnt taken seconds ,.,before. When the ice cubes were all that remained, @,@he set the glass on the arm of the sofa. Emboldened the liquor, he looked her in the eye and said, I I want it. From ow nothing, which is exactly how the very beginning, you were ours. You came to us from the bed where you were born, and from that day you on, you were our daughter. I wasnt about to have a stranger come after you. So I saw to it that every record that existed was destroyed. Chelsea swallowed. Every record? She had taken for granted that Walter Frittss file were gone, but she was counting on there being something else somewhere. Kevin nodded, and to her horror, she believed him. If he wanted it done, it was done. The court papers? she asked weakly. Gone. How? Bribery. Oh, Dad. It mattered to me, he said, throwing her own words back at her. Right or wrong. Good or bad. Youre my daughter. I love you. I wont have you chasing rainbows and being hurt. Theyre not rainbows, she protested. Theyre shadows, and theyll haunt me until I can see them more clearly. She struggled to make a lie of what he had said. There must be something in Norwich Notch. The hospital must have some record. 51 Barbara DCUMMIky The birth took place at home. There must have been a doctor. You were delivered by a midwife, who has been paid well for her silence. Ill pay her more, was Chelseas first thought. She made the mistake of saying it aloud. As she watched, Kevin withdrew from her. He straightened his shoulders and his chin, and a distant look lowered over his eyes like a shade. I wish you wouldnt, he said stiffly. I want to know, she whispered. She wasnt sure which frightened her morehis withdrawal or the knowledge that he had deliberately sabotaged her search. What youve done isnt fair. Its my blood, my genealogy. Im an adult. I have a right to know who I am. if you dont by now, somethings amiss. For Gods sake,, what was all that rebellion about when you were growing up, if not finding out who you were? I was looking. Ive always been looking. He dragged in a breath and shook his head in dismay. You know, Chelsea, I see people die every day, and theres nothing pleasant about that. I see people who would give anything to have the good health and fortune that you do. But youre not satisfied. He looked at her as though she were foreign to him. What is It you want? She didnt answer. She couldnt. Her throat was too tight, clogged with too many emotions. Besides, it had all been said before. As though suddenly realizing that, Kevin pushed himself to his feet. After all your mother and I did, after all we shared with you, this obsession yqu have with a bunch of people who did absolutely 52 The Passions of Umisea Kam thing for you is a slap in the face. Abby didnt it, Chelsea, and neither do L She sat forward and cried softly, Its not an obsession.@ He opened and closed his pocket watch without at its face. I think Ill forgo dinner. Im not very hungry. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he had already turned and was stalking away. She was devastated. For days after he walked out on her, she went through life with a fine tremor in her stomach. She knew he was punishing her and knew it was wrong. She also knew she should tell him that, and she would have, if it had been anyone else. But he was her father. She couldnt risk antagonizing him more than she already had. Carl was a godsend, not only in keeping contact @@:: T, with Kevin, but in consoling Chelsea. They spent nearly all their free time together and were closer than ever. They didnt discuss marriage@, though. They hadnt yet made love. Sex matters, Chelsea told Cydra Saperstein in rationalizing that fact. Cydra was a psychotherapist whom Chelsea had met at the health club. They had been running together for nearly five years, during which time they had become good friends. Since their lives overlapped in no other respect-no mutual friends, lovers, or job prospects-they could share their feelings with impunity. Wearing similar spandex tights and tank tops, and with their hair bouncing in tandem from high ponytails, they talked in clipped phrases as they ran 53 through the early morning streets. -rm not an innocent, Chelsea went on. Neither is he. Sometimes sex works. Sometimes it doesnt. When it doesnt, its bad. We both know that. But you wont know how it is until you try. So why dont you? Chelsea had asked herself the same question dozens of times. Carls like a brother. It seems wrong. Does he turn you on? I dont know. I still dont think of him that way. What do you feel when he kisses you? Nice. Just nice? Were not into heavy passion. Hes giving me time.@ Chelsea thought about that as she ran oni Hes nervous, too. He wants it to work. Hes afraid it wont. Theres a message in that, dont you think? Cydra was big on messages. * But youd better try it, Chels. Youre damn right, sex matters. If its no good, youre asking for trouble. Thats why Jeff and I are getting divorced. They had discussed Cydras marriage many a morning when Cydra had needed to vent her anger. She claimed that of the many reasons for its failure, sex was the biggest one. He wanted it, I didnt. I thought the attraction would come in time. It didnt. The attraction is either there or it isnt.@ What if it isnt?