Beyond Midnight (8 page)

It had been the father
'
s practice to kiss his daughter good-night before she got ready for bed, but after his wife
'
s death, Nathaniel Byrne moved the kiss to after Katie was all tucked in. That way, he told Peaches, her father would be the last thing Katie saw before she slept. It never occu
rr
ed to him to take over the bedtime routine altogether.

Peaches knocked softly on the heavy paneled door. When there was no response, she knocked again.

"
Yeah,
"
came the preoccupied voice on the other side of the door.
"
Come in.
"

She opened the door part of the way. Nathaniel Byrne was parked behind a stack of reading material piled high on a Regency mahogany library desk that sat, flanked by leather armchairs, alongside a gas-fueled fireplace burning with a small, dull flame.

Peaches had been at the Central Park Zoo watching Katie on the day the Byrnes won a bidding war at Christie
'
s for the desk, one that had topped out at twenty-six thousand and change.

"
Nat had it coming,
"
an exhilarated Linda had said to Peaches afterward.
"
That was our cancelled trip to
Aruba
—and, of course, the cost of the guilt trip I laid on top of that.
"

So there he was, twenty-six thousand dollars poorer and apparently none the wiser: handsome as a movie star and brilliant at buying and selling stocks, but dumb as a doughnut when it came to family.

Peaches waited, as she always did, for him to break from the spell of his charts and reports. She admired that in him, that ability to lock on to a subject with such intensity; it
'
s how you got things done.

"
Ah
...
Peaches,
"
he said at last.
"
What
'
s up?
"
He pitched his pen on the glossy publication that was spread out before him, took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly, and ran his hands through his thick dark hair.

"
Katie
'
s all tucked in,
"
Peaches said softly.
"
Just wanted you to know.
"

"
So early?
"
He looked at his watch and muttered in surprise.
"
Uh-oh. Or not. Okay. Just give me a couple of minutes to finish running this screen
...."
He began tapping the keyboard of a computer humming at his elbow.

"
Just so you know,
"
she repeated, smiling.

He looked up and returned her smile with a remarkably boyish one of his own, and Peaches pulled the door carefully closed. After that she went to her private quarters— which had been relocated to the second floor along with the nursery—and opened the book she
'
d been studying for the past couple of weeks, an in-depth study of stock-market theories. She was halfway through a chapter on the Elliot Wave when she heard the telltale creak of the top stair at the second-floor landing.

Finally,
she thought, and went back to her book.

A couple of minutes later, there was a soft knock at her door.

"
Peaches? Are you dressed?
"

She got up from the tufted damask chaise that sat in front of a pretty, unlit fireplace and opened the door to him.
"
Is everything all right?
"
she asked, reflecting the concern on her employer
'
s face.

He didn
'
t bother to answer her question.
"
Can you come downstairs?
"
he asked quietly.

She went out into the hall with him and they walked in silence over the magnificent Oriental runner that spille
d down the steps to the main hal
l, itself highlighted by a large and priceless Persian rug that had been in the family for generations. As she expected, Katie
'
s father did not lead her to the library—reserved exclusively for his work—but suggested instead that they go into the music room.

The music room was Katie
'
s favorite: It was the sunniest in the house, and it was where she and her mother had sung
Raffi songs at the piano. Ever since the funeral, the child had more or less camped out there; the evening
'
s toys were still scattered at one end of the room. Automatically Peaches began picking them up, but Katie
'
s father said,
"
Never mind those now.
"

He went over to a built-in, glass-front cupboard that he
'
d had the cook convert to a liquor cabinet. His idea had been to have his nightly cocktail in the music room while Katie played with Peaches before dinner; but that plan, like all the others he
'
d devised to spend more time with his daughter, had gone by the board. He
was
managing to get home earlier since the death of his wife—but inevitably he took his briefcase straight to the library and didn
'
t emerge until halfway through dinner
.  If
he emerged at all.

"
Anything to drink?
"
he asked Peaches, taking down a decanter of whiske
y. Peaches declined and he half
filled a tumbler for himself, then began pacing the room. He was clearly upset, which on
ly made him look more handsome: i
ntensity sat well on his chiseled face.

He paused to down his drink, then went back to the makeshift bar.
"
Katie was asleep—obviously,
"
he said as he poured himself a refil
l.
"
The time got away from me. Did you know that she keeps a dog-eared photo of Linda under her pillow?
"
he asked.
"
You had to know about it.
"

Peaches, addressing his back, said,
"
I didn
'
t see how it could cause any harm, Mr. Byrne.
"

He turned around and gave her a wry look.
"
For god
'
s sake, Peaches, call me Nat. You and Linda were thick as thieves. I don
'
t see why I have to continue to be given this formal treatment.
"

"
No, sir,
"
Peaches said evenly. Her cheeks flushed pink; she looked away.

"
Well, whatever,
"
he said quickly.
"I
f it makes you feel uncomfortable.
"
He came over to the cushy, slipcovered sofa where she was ensconced and dropped into the Queen Anne wing chair opposite.
"
Katie was sucking her thumb,
"
he said as he leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, his hands cradling the tumbler.
"
Did she used to suck her thumb?
"
He was surprisingly intent on the answer.

Peaches hesitated, then said,
"
Not before—
"

"Damn
it,
"
he said, with a sharp nod of his head.
"
I should have seen this coming. I can lose myself in my work, but what
'
s a three-year-old supposed to do? My instinct was to keep her home, keep her safe
...
away from prying questions.
"

He didn
'
t take his eyes from Peaches
'
s face.
"
You can tell
me this if anyone can, Peaches.
Have I screwed up by keeping her isolated?
"

He looked so unsure of himself that Peaches allowed herself a reassuring smile.
"
No. Keeping Katie around familiar faces was the right thing to do—for a while. The trouble is, there aren
'
t that many faces here,
"
she said, gently alluding to his chronic absence.
"
With all the best intentions in the world—
"

"
I
'
m blowing it. I can see that.
"
He put his drink down and fell back in his chair, deflated.
"
I thought that bringing my work home would make the difference. So much for the
telecommuting
age. You still have to read; to concentrate. Tell that to a three-year-old,
" he said in a rueful mut
ter.

"
At that age she needs stimulation.. . engagement,
"
Peaches said gently.

He dropped his head back on the armchair and closed his eyes, then sighed.
"
I
'
m not shipping her off to
Switzerland
, no matter what her grandmother says.
"

He didn
'
t care for his mother-in-law, Peaches knew. Linda used to shrug and say,
"
His choice,
"
and go off herself to visit her mother. It suited them both.

"
Too bad
my
folks are gone,
"
he mused, still without opening his eyes.
"
They
'
d have gotten a kick out of Katie.
She
'
s so much like her mother. Oddly enough, they were nuts about Linda.
"
He smiled dryly and said,
"
I remember one time Linda was shopping with my mother on
Boylston Street
when some punk grabbed my mother
'
s purse and took off. Damned if Linda didn
'
t take off after the creep, screaming for help the whole time. A couple of good Samaritans helped her tackle the guy—
Boston
'
s like that— and she got written up in the
Globe
as a feisty citizen. She never showed you the clipping?
"

Peaches said,
"
She never even mentioned it.
"

"
No. She wouldn
'
t,
"
he decided.
"
Linda never had time for looking back. For that matter, she never bothered about the future, either; she lived entirely in the present
...."

His voice turned suddenly dark and
cold and furious. W
hich is probably why she didn
't give a shit about
consequences!
"

He snorted and said bitterly,
"
Sorry. It
'
s the whiskey.
"
With a visible effort he pulled out of his foul mood and sat up straight.
"
You
'
re a good listener, Peach,
"
he said with a tight smile.
"
I don
'
t know where Katie and I would be without you.
"

Color flooded her cheeks again. She looked down, then made her eyes meet his.
"
Don
'
t hold those last strange months against her. Even if she wasn
't the perfect wife ...."

Peaches paused to compose herself and went on.
"
Even if she wasn
'
t, she was still a devoted mother to Katie. That
'
s what we ought to focus on,
"
she said softly. A tear broke loose and rolled down one cheek.
"
We have Katie.
"

Nathaniel Byrne
'
s jaw settled into a firm straight line, a kind of underline to the resolve in his sea blue eyes.
"
Yes,
"
he reminded himself.
"
Katie.
"

He took a deep breath, apparently to clear his head.
"
So: preschool, do you think?
"
he asked in a different voice altogether.
"
Can we risk it? Katie should be okay there— probably. Wouldn
'
t you say?
"