Private Lives. Karen Young
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a powerful political figure in Houston legal circles. After his death in a mysterious house fire twenty-five years ago, Walker left behind three daughters. Elizabeth, the eldest, was five years old at the time. Having no other relatives, her two younger siblings were adopted, but Elizabeth landed in the care of the state of Texas, then spent the remainder of her childhood in and out of various foster homes.”’
Elizabeth stood up abruptly and began to pace. “What possible relevance does any of this have on my career, Louie?”
“None, specifically, but you’ll have to admit it adds spice to the reporter’s article.”
Bending, she swept up the article. “I suppose this part is also titillating,” she said, snapping out the page smartly. “‘According to sources, Walker has had no relationship with her siblings since their adoption. She has not seen them since the night of the fire.’ How does he know that, Louie?”
“Deeper research, I suppose.”
She muttered something unintelligible and tossed the paper aside. Moving to the steps of the gazebo, she looked out, tears blurring her vision. “What’s missing from the reporter’s story is that my sisters’ adoptive parents never made the slightest effort to contact me.”
Behind her, Louie picked up the paper and scanned the article. “You can’t let something like this upset you, Lizzie. Your success makes you an interesting person to the public at large. The reporter struck it lucky when he researched a little deeper and discovered your past to be a bit extraordinary.”
“I feel violated, Louie. It’s almost like…rape.” She closed her eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath.
Louie sighed, knowing her well enough to leave it alone for now.
But Elizabeth wasn’t ready to leave it. “It’s no wonder the media is suffering from a reputation only slightly better than used car salesmen,” she said bitterly, turning to face him. “I’m amazed at my own naiveté, Louie. The questions he asked were so benign, such as, ‘How do you get your ideas?’ and ‘How difficult was it to get published?’ and ‘What made you choose to write books for children rather than adult fiction?’ And I actually thought that was what the article would be about.”
“He appears to cover that, too,” Louie said, still reading.
She turned and looked at him, then after a beat, she managed a short laugh. “I’m overreacting, right?”
Louie put the paper down. “I wouldn’t say that, since he’s opened your life to the world, but your editor and your agent would probably remind you that any publicity, favorable or otherwise, is good.”
She made a disgusted sound and picked up her cup. She could always trust Louie to spin even the most awful experience in a positive light. She knew that he understood her reaction to the reporter’s insensitive exposé of her history, knew that to her it was like pouring salt in a wound that had never quite healed. Still knowing all that, he wouldn’t let her wallow in self-pity. She studied him over the rim of her cup with affection. At seventy-one, his white beard gave him a distinguished air even though she’d noticed he’d begun to stoop a bit. She wondered if she could persuade him to have a full physical.
Louie had been her neighbor for about five years, but they hadn’t become friends right away. Her fault, not his. Those years in foster care had shaped her well. She’d learned early the hazards of trusting too soon. But Louie had patiently persevered. Elderly and lonely himself, he’d finally breached her shy defenses with a variety of neighborly gestures: offering tomatoes and cucumbers from his garden, bringing her newspaper to the door on rainy days, returning her trash can to the garage after the garbage was picked up. And, best of all, assuming a vital role in Jesse’s life.
A sharp shriek from across the lawn brought her to her feet. But it was joy, not distress making Jesse squeal. The little girl and her best friend, Cody, were in wild pursuit of Archie who now had not a bagel, but something dark blue and crushable in his teeth. There was no likelihood that the big golden retriever would be overtaken, but both kids were giving the race their personal best.
“Is that something valuable in his mouth?” Louie asked, moving up behind her.
“Cody’s cherished Texans ball cap? Priceless.” Elizabeth smiled, watching Jesse try to outsmart the dog by circling behind while Cody stood out in front and yelled as a distraction. Squealing, Jesse leaped on the playful retriever from behind and Cody dived gleefully into the tangle of little girl and big dog. Amazingly, Cody emerged from the fray with his cap. Archie got up, too, shaking himself vigorously, tongue dangling in a doggie grin.
“Maybe we’d better go check for broken limbs,” Louie said dryly as the two five-year-olds sprawled on the lawn, winded and giggling.
“Whose, Archie’s or the kids?”
“Good point.”
Smiling, they watched as the children tore off in another direction, Archie between them, barking joyously. Elizabeth felt a rush of love. Jesse was a delightful mix of tomboy and sprightly femininity. And a constant delight, despite the fact that lately her welfare was a constant concern.
And on that thought, Elizabeth’s smile faded. Gina D’Angelo, Jesse’s mother, was living with Elizabeth now after her longtime lover, Austin Leggett, had finally broken off their relationship. Elizabeth was holding her breath praying the affair was truly over this time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d opened her home to Gina and Jesse after one of Austin’s tirades, but in the past he would soon apologize, Gina would forgive all, and the whole dysfunctional cycle would begin again. It was frustrating and painful to Elizabeth to see that Jesse was forced to live in an atmosphere of fear and violence. Gina was an adult and free to make her own choices, but Jesse, the child of their stormy relationship, was without options. Maybe this time the split would be permanent, as Gina had confessed that she suspected Austin was having an affair. She had no wish to see Gina hurt, but she knew the relationship would end only when Austin decided to end it. For Jesse’s sake, she hoped the time had come. The fact that Gina had hired an attorney and a law suit was filed regarding Jesse’s custody gave Elizabeth hope. On the other hand, she worried about Jesse’s fate if the breakup turned ugly. As the little girl’s father, Austin Leggett would have considerable standing in the eyes of the court.
“Is Gina sleeping in this morning?” Louie asked, his eyes still on the kids.
“She has a lot on her mind lately.” Elizabeth knew what he was thinking. It should be Gina out here watching her daughter, not Liz. But Gina hadn’t come home last night until after eleven. In spite of the fact that she was forced to move on with her life, she was devastated by Austin’s rejection and stressed out over the upcoming custody hearing. Seeing that she felt cooped up after weeks in the house, Elizabeth had suggested she take in a movie. But hours after the movie was over, when she still had not come home, Jesse had been worried. Elizabeth was sympathetic over Gina’s situation, but she didn’t—couldn’t—condone Gina’s occasional lapses in parental responsibility.
Finally, Gina had called, apologetic and contrite over waiting so late to check in. She’d taken in a movie and then decided to browse in the Galleria, she told Elizabeth. Next, she’d bumped into a friend who was a paralegal in the law firm where Gina no longer worked, thanks to Austin, and simply lost track of the time. Was Jesse okay, she’d asked. What if she weren’t, Elizabeth had thought with some irritation, but she’d reassured her and agreed to give the little girl her bath and put her to bed.
“One more book, Aunt Lizzie, pul-eeezze,” Jesse had begged later when Elizabeth was trying to coax her into settling down for the night. Sleepy-eyed, her tattered Barney clutched tight to her chest, she was doggedly determined to wait for her missing mommy. Elizabeth closed Miss Spider’s Wedding and tucked an equally tattered blanket snugly around her.
“Three’s the limit, Jesse-girl,” she said, letting her touch linger on the child’s cheek. “It’s way, way past your bedtime. You know how hard it is to wake up in the mornings when you go to bed too late.” Elizabeth rose from the side of the bed, but