Mary Clark - We'll Meet Again

“Did Annamarie ever fall out of love with Gary Lasch?” Fran asked.

“At the end. He was avoiding her, and she had started to fear him. When she told him she was pregnant, he told her to get an abortion. If it weren’t for DNA testing, she was sure he would have sworn it wasn’t his child.

“Jack Morrow’s death was a terrible blow to Annamarie. Even though she had gone into an affair with Dr. Lasch, I think she always loved Jack. Afterwards, she showed me Dr. Lasch’s picture. She said, ‘I was obsessed with him. He does that to women. He uses people.’ ”

“Did Annamarie think that things at the hospital were still going wrong, even after Gary Lasch was killed?”

“I don’t think she had any way of knowing. And besides, her energies were soon focused on taking care of the child she was carrying. Ms. Simmons, we begged Annamarie to keep her baby. We would have helped her raise it. She gave it up because she didn’t think she was worthy of it. She said to me, ‘What do I tell my child-that I had an affair with his father, who was then murdered because of our affair? When he asks me to tell him what his father was like, do I tell him he was a danger to his patients and betrayed the people who trusted him?’ ”

“Annamarie told Molly that as both a doctor and a husband, Gary Lasch wasn’t worth going to prison for,” Fran said.

Lucy Bonaventure smiled. “That sounds like Annamarie,” she said.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, Mrs. Bonaventure,” Fran said. “And I know how hard this is for you.”

“Yes, it is. But let me show you something before you go.” Lucy Bonaventure went into the bedroom and picked up the photographs she had placed on the dresser top. She showed them to Fran. “This is Annamarie with her baby. You can see how young she was. The adoptive family sent her a birthday picture of him for the first five years. This is the little boy she gave up. She paid such a terrible price for her mistakes. I hope, if Molly Lasch is innocent, that you can prove it. But tell her that in her own way, Annamarie was in prison too, a self-imposed one perhaps, but still one filled with pain and deprivation. And if you want to know who she was afraid of, you’re right, I don’t think it was Molly Lasch. I think the person she really feared was Dr. Peter Black.”

“ Cal, what is the matter with you? You’ve done nothing but bark at me, when the worst thing I seem to have done is suggest you get away from here for a few days and maybe get some golfing in.”

“Jenna, I should think that simply reading the daily papers with all the coverage about that nurse’s death and Molly’s arrest might help you understand why I’m on edge. You should realize, my dear, that a fortune will slip through our fingers if American National gets these HMOs and then proceeds with a hostile takeover of Remington. We both know you married me for what I could give you. Are you willing to scale back your lifestyle?”

“I’m willing to concede that I’m very sorry I took the day off,” Jenna snapped. She had followed Cal into his office, alarmed by the obvious tension he had displayed at the breakfast table.

“Why don’t you visit your friend, Molly?” he suggested. “I’m sure she will be delighted to be comforted by you.”

“It really is bad, isn’t it, Cal?” Jenna asked quietly. “But I’m going to tell you this, not as a wife, but as another fighter-I know you; no matter how bad it is, you’ll figure out how to make it pay off for you.”

Calvin Whitehall’s laugh was a short, mirthless bark. “Thank you, Jenna, I really needed that. However, I believe you’re right.”

“I am going to go over to see Molly. I was really concerned when I saw her Wednesday night. She was terribly down. Then when I spoke to her yesterday, after Mrs. Barry quit, she was positively reeling from the blow.”

“You told me about that.”

“I know. And I know you agree with Mrs. Barry. You wouldn’t want to be alone with Molly either, would you?”

“Precisely.”

“ Cal, Mrs. Barry brought Molly some twenty sleeping pills that were from a prescription for her son. I’m very worried about that. I’m afraid that as depressed as she is, she might be tempted to-”

“To commit suicide? What a perfectly wonderful idea. That would be just what the doctor ordered.” Cal looked past Jenna. “It’s all right, Rita, you can come in with the mail.”

As the maid entered, Jenna went around the desk and kissed the top of her husband’s head. “ Cal, don’t joke, please. I honestly think that Molly is considering suicide. You heard her the other night.”

“My opinion stands. She’d be doing herself a favor if she exercises that option. And she’d be doing a favor for a lot of other people too.”

Marta Jones knew that only Wally would ring her doorbell with such persistence. When the ringing began, she was upstairs, straightening out the linen closet; with a patient sigh, she hurried down the stairs, her arthritic knees protesting every step of the way.

Wally’s hands were jammed in his pockets, his head was down. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice flat.

“You know you can come in anytime, dear.”

He stepped inside. “I don’t want to go.”

“ Where don’t you want to go, dear?”

“To California. Mom is packing. We leave tomorrow morning. I don’t like to be in the car a long time. I don’t want to go. I came to say good-bye.”

California ? Marta wondered. What is that about? “Wally, are you sure your mom said California?”

“Yes, California. I’m sure.” He fidgeted, then grimaced. “I want to say good-bye to Molly too. I won’t bother her, but I don’t want to leave without saying good-bye. Do you think it’s all right if I say good-bye to Molly?”

“I certainly don’t see why not.”

“I’ll go see her tonight,” Wally muttered.

“What did you say, dear?”

“I have to go. Mom wants me to go to my meeting.”

“That’s a good idea. You know you always enjoy those meetings, Wally. Listen, isn’t that your mother calling you?” Marta opened the door. Edna was standing on the steps of her house, her coat on, looking for her son.

“Wally’s in here,” Marta called out. “Come on, Wally.” Curiosity made her run across the lawn without bothering to get a coat. “Edna, is it true you’re driving to California?”

“Wally, get in the car,” Edna Barry pleaded. “You know you’re late.” Reluctantly he obeyed, slamming the passenger door behind him.

Edna turned to her neighbor and whispered, “Marta, I don’t know if we’ll end up in California or in Timbuktu, but I know I’ve got to get out of here. Every time I turn on the news I seem to hear something else bad about Molly. The latest is that there’s going to be a special meeting of the parole board on Monday. The prosecutor wants her parole revoked. If that happens, she’ll have to serve the rest of her original sentence for killing Dr. Lasch.”

Marta shivered. “Oh, Edna, I know. I heard that on the news this morning, and I think it’s just terrible. That poor girl should be in an institution, not in a prison. But you mustn’t get so upset about it that you let it drive you away from here.”

“I know. I’ve got to go now. I’ll talk to you later.”

When she got back to her house, Marta was chilled and decided she needed a cup of tea. Once it was ready, she sat down at the table, sipping it slowly. Poor Edna, she thought. She’s feeling guilty about quitting her job with Molly, but of course she had no choice. Wally has to be her main concern.