Don't Believe a Word (3 page)

E
den c
alled her Aunt Jodie, and they decided to fly out and meet in Cleveland. Jodie, Tara’s younger sister, was a physics professor at Georgia-Tech, and Eden had heard, from those who knew them as children, that Tara was always known as the pretty one, and Jodie as the smart one. Jodie planned to fly from Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta. Eden was leaving from Westchester. The two agreed on a time to rendezvous at Cleveland Airport on the morning of the funeral, and they booked hotel rooms near the airport for that night.

Eden had not seen her aunt or her uncle in quite a while. Jodie’s husband, Kent, was a journalist, on assignment in the Middle East. Their son, Ben, was in graduate school in California. Eden had fond memories of them at family gatherings when she was a girl, but once Tara married Flynn and gave birth to Jeremy, the family get-togethers stopped happening. Eden was glad to know that Jodie would be with her on this difficult occasion.

When Friday came, Hugh drove Eden to Westchester Airport. He embraced her at the curb outside the terminal. Eden could feel him trembling, and when he pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes. Hugh wiped them away, embarrassed. ‘I thought about coming with you. I wish I could be there in a way.’

‘Flynn said you were welcome to come,’ said Eden. ‘I probably should have mentioned it. But I didn’t think …’

Hugh shook his head. ‘No. I wouldn’t have come anyway. It’s better if I stay away. They had their own life.’

Eden’s heart shriveled inside her, thinking about the truth of that statement. Their life with Tara had long been over. ‘I probably shouldn’t go either. It’s not as if they wanted anything to do with me.’

Hugh gave her a warning look. ‘It’s your mother,’ he said. ‘She loved you.’

‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘I’m going.’ She hugged him again. ‘I better get on that plane.’

He waved as she entered the terminal, and kept waving till she was out of sight.

Jodie beamed at Eden when she saw her at the terminal in Cleveland. ‘You look wonderful, Eden,’ Jodie exclaimed, hugging her. Even though she was over forty, Jodie wore her hair as she always had, in bangs and a ponytail. It was true that she was not a beauty like Tara, but she had a certain calm self-assurance which her older sister had never possessed.

Eden hugged her back. ‘So do you,’ she said sincerely. She was so glad to see Jodie’s familiar face in this place where she felt ill at ease.

‘How was your flight?’ Jodie asked.

‘Bumpy, but not too long,’ said Eden. ‘Yours?’

‘About the same. Oh, it’s good to see you again,’ said Jodie. ‘I just wish this wasn’t the reason …’

‘Me too,’ said Eden.

‘I’m so sorry about your mother. We didn’t talk that much, but when we did, she always talked about you. She adored you, you know.’

Eden shrugged. ‘Not enough, I guess,’ she said.

Jodie frowned. ‘Don’t say that. Whatever made her do this, it wasn’t for a lack of love for you. I wish I knew why, but Tara wasn’t one to share her problems. In fact, she could be very … secretive. I had no idea.’ Jodie shook her head.

She tried to call me on the night she died, Eden thought. And I blew her off. She did not mention this to her aunt, but focused on arrangements instead. ‘We’ll pick up the hotel shuttle,’ she said. ‘I reserved us a rental car, at the hotel. We can drop our bags off, and then we probably should be on our way.’

‘I guess there’s no avoiding it,’ agreed Jodie grimly.

The day was cold and brilliantly bright. Thanks to the GPS, Eden and her aunt found their way to the funeral home with no difficulty. Eden felt slightly sick as they entered the gloomy sandstone building in downtown Cleveland where the service would be. A large information board in the foyer listed the various visitations which were scheduled. There was no mention of Tara and Jeremy.

Eden went up to one of the undertaking staff. ‘Excuse me, are we in the right place? My mother and my half-brother’s service is this morning and it’s not posted …’

‘I’m sorry but this funeral is invitation only. I need to have your name,’ said the balding, dark-suited man in a hushed tone. He looked around, as if to be sure that there was no one listening.

‘Eden Radley,’ she said. ‘And this is Mrs Jodie Altman.’

The man frowned over a clipboard he was holding, and crossed off a couple of lines. Then he directed them to a room that was tucked away near the back of the first floor. It was a square room wallpapered in a silver stripe, with gray velvet drapes at the windows. It had been set up with chairs for the mourners. At the front of the room were two plain, pine coffins, side by side, both closed. Behind the coffins, on an easel, was a blown-up photo of Tara and Jeremy. The photo had been taken in a field, on a summer day. There was a verdant line of trees at the horizon, and the blue flash of a lake. Tara, wearing a white, gauzy shirt, was sitting in tall grass, surrounded by yellow wildflowers, smiling into the camera, her black hair escaping a messy updo, her brown eyes sad and limpid. She held her arms protectively around Jeremy, her chin resting on the top of his head. The boy had delicate features and shiny hair, but his mouth hung open in a twisted grimace and his eyes were obscured by thick glasses which sat crookedly on his face.

Eden’s eyes filled with tears. She looked away.

‘It’s a beautiful photo,’ said Jodie, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know how she could have done it. Taken the child’s life too. I know she adored him.’

Eden nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘It just seems so unlike her.’

Jodie stifled a sob, and shook her head.

‘Should we sit?’ Eden asked, feeling suddenly young and uncertain.

‘Well,’ said Jodie, ‘normally, we’d go and speak to the grieving husband. But I don’t see him anywhere. Do you?’

Eden looked around, puzzled. ‘No. I don’t.’

Just then, a pale young woman with shiny, shoulder-length brown hair and narrow, black-framed glasses approached them. She had waxy, ivory-colored skin, and she seemed lit from within, like a tapered candle. She was dressed in a dark, hipster outfit with a black pea coat, black tights and a short, lacy skirt. A handsome young black man, slim and also bespectacled, with a shaved head of perfect proportions, shadowed her protectively. Unlike most of the men in the room, he was dressed in a suit and tie.

‘Are you Eden?’ the young woman asked hesitantly.

Eden nodded.

The girl exhaled, and gripped Eden’s hand between her lacy, fingerless black gloves. ‘I thought so. Your mother always talked about you. My name is Lizzy Jacquez. I’m a grad student in psychology. I do research for Dr Tanaka. I worked closely with Jeremy and your mother. This is my husband, DeShaun Jacquez. Dr Jacquez,’ she corrected herself proudly.

The young man smiled. His teeth were perfection. ‘She always says that,’ he demurred. ‘I’m still an intern. Nice to meet you.’ He shook Eden’s hand in a strong grip.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lizzy said. ‘Your mother was a wonderful woman. And Jeremy. He was the best boy in the world.’

Then, Eden realized that she had heard Tara mention this girl’s name before. ‘Oh yes. My mother said that you were a great support to her,’ she said.

Lizzy covered her face with her hands. DeShaun put an arm around her. ‘You okay, babe?’ he murmured.

Lizzy straightened up and took a deep breath. She lifted her glasses with the back of her hand and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m supposed to remain objective. Not get involved, but …’

‘Don’t blame yourself for that,’ said Eden gently. ‘It’s only human. By the way, this is my mother’s sister, Jodie.’ Everyone shook hands.

‘I admire the work that you do,’ said Jodie. ‘It must take a terrible toll on you to work with kids that have such dreadful conditions. And no real hope.’

Lizzy’s face brightened with the shining faith of a true believer. ‘Dr Tanaka is determined to discover the treatment that will help these children. They and their families all suffer so much. If anybody can do it, it’s him. I lost my own brother, Anthony, to this disease when he was five. I decided right then and there to make it my life’s work.’

‘That’s impressive,’ said Eden.

‘It’s hard to explain, but, if you’ve been through it, you’re really a part of this community. My mother volunteered as a babysitter for Jeremy, just so that Tara and Flynn could get away out once in a while. She and my dad know better than anyone how tough it is to have a child with Katz-Ellison.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Eden. ‘Obviously, my mother was surrounded by a lot of very kind people.’ She looked around the room, which was slowly filling up. ‘Lizzy, do you know where Mr Darby is? I thought he would be right up front.’

Lizzy’s eyes welled up again. ‘Oh, I’m sure he is so distraught. I don’t know where he’ll find the strength to face this day.’

Just then, a sturdy, serious-looking Asian man of about fifty, wearing a topcoat, entered the room and looked around. A murmur went up among the mourners, and a cluster of people gathered around him. He nodded toward each of them and then he eased into a seat at the back. Eden suspected that this must be Dr Tanaka, the researcher heading the Katz-Ellison study at the Cleveland Clinic. Her suspicion was confirmed when Lizzy spotted him. ‘Dr Tanaka has arrived,’ she said in a hushed tone of respect. She turned to DeShaun, who said that he was right behind her, and then she rushed to greet her boss and mentor. Dr Tanaka nodded, and folded his hands. His manner was respectful, but it seemed as if he wished to keep his fellow mourners at arm’s length. He showed little other emotion.

‘You know, this is just rude,’ Jodie fumed. ‘I don’t care how upset he is. Everybody here is upset. He should be here. Why even have this service if you’re not going to show up?’

Eden did not have to ask whom she was referring to. ‘I’m sure he intends to show up,’ she said.

One of the couples who had hurried to greet Dr Tanaka conferred with each other and then hesitantly approached Eden. She recognized the well-meaning, uneasy expression on their faces. The woman was slim with an olive complexion and dark curly hair cut in a fashionable bob. She had a beautiful printed scarf draped around her neck. The man had dark hair, a mustache and lively brown eyes.

‘Excuse me,’ said the woman. ‘I saw you talking to Lizzy. Are you Eden?’

Eden nodded.

The woman reached out for her hand. ‘My name is Marguerite, and this is my husband, Gerard. I met your mom at the clinic. Our youngest daughter suffers from Katz-Ellison. In fact, a lot of these people are from the clinic. We try our best to support one another.’

‘So I understand. It’s nice to meet you,’ said Eden. ‘I’m glad to know my mom had friends here.’

‘Well,’ said Marguerite. ‘She was a beautiful person. She and I kind of bonded over the kids at first. But then we got talking one day and realized that both of us were older than our husbands …’

Gerard looked at her aghast, as if she were sharing some terribly personal secret.

‘Well, honey, it’s true,’ said Marguerite. ‘And we’re both … we both loved to read. We would exchange books. We lived only a few streets apart. It gave us a lot in common.’

‘I’m sure that was comforting to her,’ said Eden.

‘I just feel guilty that I didn’t do more to help her. She was so anxious lately but I never dreamed … I tried to reassure her that she would get through it. But she was a lot more alone than I am. No matter what, Gerard and I are partners in this. We both work, but Gerard’s mother moved here from France when she was widowed. And my whole family is in the area. Your mom had nobody but the people at the clinic. Don’t get me wrong. They are wonderful people and they really understand. But there’s no substitute for having your own family nearby.’

Marguerite’s words made Eden squirm with guilt. She’d known very well that her mother was struggling. Maybe she should have made the effort to come out here and get to know Jeremy. She’d rebuffed every invitation, still hurt by Tara’s abandonment. Why hadn’t she tried to get beyond her own anger?

‘And she had her husband,’ Gerard reminded his wife. His French accent was pronounced, and charming.

Marguerite rolled her eyes. Eden looked from one to the other.

‘He tried,’ said Gerard stoutly. ‘It was hard on him too.’

‘Well, no one knows that better than you,’ said Marguerite, ‘but you don’t shirk your responsibilities. You step up.’

‘We shouldn’t be talking about this right now, chérie,’ Gerard admonished her. ‘Eden doesn’t want to hear this kind of talk.’

In fact, Eden wanted to hear more, but it did seem like the wrong time and place. ‘I’m wondering where Flynn might be right now,’ she said.

Marguerite shook her head. ‘I hate to say it, but this is typical. He was never there for her.’

‘Eden, we don’t want to detain you,’ said Gerard, firmly closing the subject. ‘I’m sure you have many people to talk to.’

‘Thank you both for coming,’ said Eden.

Tears welled in Marguerite’s eyes. ‘Of course we came. Tara and Jeremy were very dear to us.’

‘You know, we have a café downtown called Jaune,’ said Gerard.

‘It’s a mélange of Provençal and Middle Eastern cooking. You should come by while you’re here. We’d love to feed you dinner,’ said Marguerite. ‘On the house.’

Eden nodded and thanked them both, knowing she would be leaving the next day, and would probably never visit their restaurant. She watched them as they went and took a seat near the back among the other families from the clinic. Eden thought that Marguerite and Gerard reminded her of the kind of friends she had in Brooklyn. Young, eclectic, dedicated urbanites full of projects and ideas. When she left this place, she reminded herself, she had a life to go back to. A life far away from all this sadness. The thought of it was steadying. She turned away and looked for her aunt, who was already seated. Eden slipped into the chair beside Jodie. She glanced around the room. People were restless. Some were conversing while others nervously glanced at the door, waiting for some kind of direction. Finally, a member of the funeral home staff approached the lectern, which was surrounded by baskets of gladioli and carnations.