Mirror Image

Thirty-Five

A quality necessary to bomber pilots is the ability not to crack under pressure. Nelson didn’t. Avery reflected on his aplomb later when she reviewed those heart-stopping moments following Eddy’s appalling announcement.

His lack of response was remarkable to her, because she had felt like she might very well shatter. She’d been rendered speechless, motionless, unable to think. Her brain shut down operation. It seemed the planet had been yanked from beneath her, and she floated without the security of gravity in an airless, black void.

Nelson, with admirable resilience, scooted back his dining chair and stood up. “I believe we should move this discussion to the living room.”

Eddy nodded his head once, glanced at Tate with a mix of pity and exasperation, then left the room.

Zee, drastically pale but almost as composed as her husband, stood also. “Mona, we’ll skip dessert tonight. Please entertain Mandy. We might be occupied for some time.”

Dorothy Rae reached for her wineglass. Jack took it away from her and returned it to the table. He caught her beneath the arm, lifted her from her chair, and pushed her toward the hall. Fancy went after them. She was fairly bubbling now.

When they reached the archway, Jack said to his daughter, “You stay out of this.”

“No way. This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened,” she said with a giggle.

“It’s none of your concern, Fancy.”

“I’m part of this family, too. Grandpa just said so. Besides that, I’m a campaign worker. I have every right to sit in on the discussion. Even more right than her,” she said, gesturing toward her mother.

Jack dug a fifty-dollar bill out of his pants pocket and pressed it into Fancy’s hand. “Find something else to do.”

“Son of a bitch,” she mouthed before stamping off.

Tate’s face was white with wrath. His movements were carefully controlled as he folded his napkin and laid it next to his plate. “Carole?”

Avery’s head snapped up. Denials were poised and ready to be spoken, but the sheer fury burning in his eyes silenced them. Under his firmly guiding hand, she left the dining room and walked across the hall toward the large living room.

It was still twilight. The living room afforded a spectacular view of the western sky, streaked with the vivid shades of sunset. The vista was breathtaking, one Avery often sat and enjoyed. This evening, however, the endless horizon made her feel exposed and alone.

There wasn’t a single friendly face to greet her when she entered the room. The men representing the public relations firm were particularly hostile.

Dirk was tall, thin, saturnine, and had a perpetual, blue-black five o’clock shadow. He looked the stereotype of a hit man from a gangster movie. It appeared that his face would crack if he even tried to smile.

Ralph was Dirk’s antithesis. He was round, stout, and jolly. He was always cracking jokes, more to everyone’s annoyance than amusement. When nervous, he jangled change. The coins in his pocket were getting a workout now. They rang as noisily as sleigh bells.

Neither of these men, to her knowledge, had ever professed to having a last name. She sensed that omission was to promote a friendly working relationship between them and their clients. As far as she was concerned, the gimmick didn’t work.

Nelson took charge. “Eddy, please clarify what you just told us in the dining room.”

Eddy went straight to the heart of the matter and turned to Avery. “Did you have an abortion?”

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t utter a sound. Tate answered for her. “Yes, she did.”

Zee jumped as if her slender body had just been struck with an arrow. Nelson’s brows pulled together into a steep frown. Jack and Dorothy Rae only stared at Avery in stunned disbelief.

“You knew about it?” Eddy demanded of Tate.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell anybody?”

“It wasn’t anybody’s business, was it?” Tate snapped furiously.

“When did this happen?” Nelson wanted to know. “Recently?”

“No, before the plane crash. Just before.”