The Happiest Day (14 page)

“We’ll be all
right as long as we stick together,” Peter said tiredly.

“First Mother, and
now Geoff.”  A sob escaped her.  “Sorry…I didn’t think I could cry anymore.” 
She struggled for a moment, and then continued, “I tried to talk to Daddy, but
he’s in shock.”

“Dr. Miller told
me he gave him something to sleep.”

“It’s the best
thing for him,” Peter said.  “Real life is waiting soon enough.”

Bert arrived soon
after and they all sat up late into the night, reminiscing and crying together. 
Around three in the morning, Rachel felt herself drifting off and allowed Peter
to help her upstairs to bed.  He tucked her in and kissed her lightly on her forehead
so he wouldn’t disturb her.  Then he went to his brother’s room and sat on his
bed, tears streaming down his cheeks.  He had been twelve years old when Geoff
had been born and had been charmed by the happy, loving baby.  He had hauled
him around in his arms until Helen had snapped at him to put the boy down so he
could learn to walk.  He had watched his brother grow from a sturdy toddler to
a talented young man.  Everything he touched turned to gold.  Until today.

The next morning,
Rachel arose feeling heavy-hearted and depressed.  She dressed without caring
how she looked and exited her room, intent on checking on her husband.  She
found him still sleeping, however, and was loathe to disturb him.  As the day
wore on and they accepted a steady stream of visitors who had heard the tragic
news, she checked on him often but he did not stir.  At one point, she checked
his pulse and found it beating steadily.  She called Dr. Miller who recommended
that she let him sleep.

“He’s had a
horrible shock,” the doctor explained.  “His body is just trying to protect
itself from the pain.”

The family
arranged Geoff’s funeral that afternoon with the family priest and ate a light
dinner in silence.

“Daddy will need
to eat,” Maryanne said worriedly.  “I’ll ask Cook to make him a plate.”

“He still hasn’t
stirred,” Rachel answered.

“He hasn’t eaten
for at least thirty-six hours.  You’ll have to wake him.  I’ll go with you if
you like.”

They went upstairs
together and Rachel gently shook Norris.  Maryanne set the tray down on the
bureau and came to sit on the bed next to her father.  “Daddy, you need to wake
up,” she said gently.

His eyes fluttered
open and he stared at his daughter with a glazed, confused gaze.  “What…what
time is it?”

Rachel looked over
her shoulder at the miniature grandfather clock in the corner of his room. 
“It’s eight in the evening.  You’ve been asleep for over a day.”

He rolled over on
his back and stared at Rachel.  “I had a terrible dream,” he said, his voice
hoarse.

“Daddy, it wasn’t
a dream,” Maryanne said, stroking his hair.  “Geoff is gone.”  Her ever present
tears spilled over.  “I’m sorry, but Geoff is dead.”

Rachel sat down on
the opposite side of Norris and took his hand.  “We planned his funeral today. 
We’ll have the funeral mass tomorrow at ten, followed by a wake here at the
house.”

He shook his
head.  “I thought it was a dream.  He’s really gone?”

“Yes.”

“I shot him.”

“It was an
accident,” Rachel said firmly.  “We’ve brought you something to eat.  You’ll
feel better if you get something on your stomach and you can come spend time
with the family.  We all need you.”

“I can’t,” he
said.

“Daddy,” Maryanne
started but Norris interrupted her sharply.

“No!  I can’t! 
Leave me be!”  He shoved at both of them and stumbled out of bed into his bathroom,
slamming the door.

Maryanne stared at
the closed door, her body shaking, and Rachel gently helped her stand.  “Let’s
leave him.”

Once downstairs,
Laurie was aghast.  “He’ll come to the funeral tomorrow, right?”

“I don’t know,”
Rachel answered honestly.  “We’ll have to see what tomorrow brings.”

“It’s his son.  He
can’t miss the funeral.”

“He’s not in his
right mind, Laurie,” Peter said grimly.  “We’ll just have to hope that when he
wakes up tomorrow, he’s ready to face what’s happened.”

When the sun rose
the next day, though, Norris refused to answer the knock at his door and Rachel
found it locked when she tried to enter.  “Norris,” she said, laying her head
against the door.  “Norris, we’ll be leaving in an hour for the funeral.  I
hope you’ll meet us downstairs.”

They waited as
long as they could but Norris did not appear downstairs.  Peter pulled Smythe
aside.  “Once we leave, can you try to encourage Norris to eat something?”

“I’ll do my best,
sir,” the butler answered.  “I’ll watch over him, please don’t worry.”

Norris’ absence at
the funeral and wake was noticed and whispered about in hushed tones.  Rachel
could hardly wait until everyone left the house and she could focus on trying
to help Norris heal.  She was truly worried about his state of mind.  She
talked to Dr. Miller, who had attended the service.

“He still hasn’t
come out of his room?” the doctor asked.

“No.  I’m not even
sure he has eaten anything.”

“Let me go talk to
him.”  He came back down a few minutes later, shaking his head.  “He refused to
let me in.”

“How long do I let
this go on?”

“I’m not sure
there’s anything we can do about it at this point.  If it goes on to the point
where we worry about his survival, we’ll have to gain entry to the room
somehow.”

Peter had arrived
to catch the end of the conversation.  “There are keys for all of the rooms. 
We can get in if we have to.”

“If you know that
he is not eating, I wouldn’t wait any longer than tomorrow.”

“We can’t force
him to eat,” Rachel argued.

“No,” the doctor
agreed, “but we can take him somewhere where he can be helped.”

Rachel drew back
in horror.  “Do you mean a hospital?  A mental hospital?”

“Rachel, if he’s
unable to deal with the reality of what has happened to the point where he is
jeopardizing his own health, then a institution, even temporarily, is exactly
what Norris needs.”  The doctor touched her arm gently.  “I’ll be out
tomorrow.”

She walked Dr.
Miller to the door, Peter accompanying her.  After thanking him and closing the
door, Rachel wrapped her arms around her middle.  “I wish these people would
leave.”

Peter stepped
close to her, one hand stroking her back soothingly, the other holding one of
her hands.  Rachel sunk slightly against him, reveling in his strength.  With
him next to her, she didn’t feel quite so alone.

“I’ll start subtly
moving people out,” he promised.  “You need your rest.”

Blanche appeared
in the front hallway where the stood and Peter’s hand on Rachel’s back tensed. 
In her black, tightly tailored dress, she looked less like a mourning sister-in-law
and more like she was on her way to a cocktail party. “How are you doing,
Rachel?” she asked in a deceptively concerned voice.  “I see my husband is
watching over you.”

“Go to hell,
Blanche,” Rachel said evenly.

Blanche laughed
humorlessly.  “You know what really bothers me?  I suspect that you think you
have the upper hand.  He is my husband, you know.”

“Blanche,” Peter
said wearily.  “Don’t do this, not today.  We just buried my brother.”

Blanche turned her
laser gaze on him.  “I know.  So I would think that you would show some respect
and not make it obvious that you have taken her for your mistress.”

Peter’s hand fell
and Rachel felt the loss sorely.  More than anything, she wanted Peter to stand
up to Blanche but she knew that today was neither the time nor place.  He had
handled Blanche for many years and she had to trust him.  He looked down at
Rachel, his eyes apologetic.  “I’m going to go start corralling the masses. 
I’ll try to have the house cleared within the hour.  Blanche, why don’t you come
with me?”

She linked her arm
through Peter’s.  “I’d be more than happy to.  We should present a united
front.”  She smiled at Rachel, arching an eyebrow.  “Maybe you should go sit
with
your
husband.”

“Maybe you should
stop aborting your babies.”  The words came tumbling out of her mouth without
any conscious forethought and she raised her hand to her mouth in horror.

Peter closed his
eyes briefly, his lips tight.  When he opened them, he looked disappointedly at
her.  Rachel felt remorse wash over her.  She was sorry she had resorted to
Blanche’s tactics.

Blanche, for her
part, stared at Rachel with murderous rage.  Her chest heaved and her hands
curled into fists around Peter’s bicep.  “You, my dear,” she said in a
deceptively calm voice, “have picked the wrong bitch to cross.  You will regret
ever trying to best me.  I promise you that.”  She turned on her heel, leaving
the front hall and Peter going willingly with her.

Tears blinded
Rachel and she raced up the staircase, stopping at Norris’ door.  She knocked. 
“Norris,” she called, her voice heavy in despair.  “Norris, please, please, let
me in.  I don’t want to be alone.”  He didn’t answer, and she sank to the
ground, leaning her head against the door.  “Norris,” she cried.  “Please…” 
She broke into sobs.  “Please, let me in.”

Despite her tears
and her pleas, the door remained closed to her.  After an hour, she opened her
eyes to see two legs standing in front of her, a hand outstretched.  She lifted
her face, wiping away the tears.  Laurie.

“Everyone has
gone,” he said somberly.  “It’s just you and me.”

“Even Maryanne and
Bert?  And Peter?”

He nodded.  He
pulled her up.  “I know it’s not even supper time yet, but I’m exhausted.  I
could go to bed.”

“Then you should.”
She hugged him.  “I’m going to go downstairs and oversee the staff and try one
more time to get Norris to eat.  I’ll probably go to bed early myself.”

Laurie nodded and
headed down the long hallway towards his room.  He stopped mid-way and turned
back.  “Hey, Rae?  What do you think he meant when he said ‘journal’?”

She shook her
head.  “I don’t know.  It didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Me either but he
seemed intent on getting you to understand.”

“Did he keep a
journal?”

“Not that I know
of.  At least, I never saw him writing in one.  Maybe tomorrow, I’ll go through
his things.  Do you think that’s weird?”

“No,” she smiled
sadly at her brother.  “If there is something, then he would want you to find
it.  It’s possible, though, that he just wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“I know.”  He
looked thoughtful, but in a worried manner.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” she
said, lifting her hand.

“Love you, too.”

The staff had the
clean-up well in hand so she wandered aimlessly into the front parlor.  She sat
at the piano and picked at keys in a desultory manner.  Geoff had been a
talented pianist.  He had been talented at most things he tried.  She rested
her head tiredly in one hand.

Peter was angry at
her, she knew.  She shouldn’t have said what she did to Blanche.  It was
beneath her and had come from a place of jealousy.  She wished she could go
back a few hours and never have said it.  For that matter, she wished she could
go back three days and prevent Geoff’s death.  There was no going back,
though.  Their paths were set and Rachel could only pray that the family could
make it to other side of this valley of despair.

Across town,
Blanche was placing a call to Leonard Winston.

The next day,
Rachel asked Smythe for the key to Norris’ bedroom.  Smythe provided it from a
cupboard in the kitchen.

“Ma’am, would you
like me to come with you?  You’re not quite sure what you may find.”

“That’s very kind
of you to offer, Smythe.  I appreciate the suggestion.”  They climbed the
staircase together, Rachel’s stomach in knots.  “Smythe, you don’t think he
would…do anything drastic, do you?”

“I don’t know,
ma’am, but I certainly hope not.  His children mean everything to him.  I hope
he is able to recover from the young Mr. Thornton passing and find some sort of
peace with his remaining family.”

They knocked on
the door and Rachel announced to Norris that they would unlock the door if he
didn’t open it.  They waited a few minutes before twisting the key in the lock
and swinging the door open.

Relief almost
knocked Rachel off of her feet when she saw that Norris was alive, sitting in a
chair by the window.  He had not shaven for days, and a heavy growth of beard
covered his lower face.  His hair was unkempt and his clothes wrinkled.  He
looked gaunt, almost skeletal.

She turned and
nodded at Smythe, who left the room quietly.  Rachel walked softly over to
where Norris sat and dropped to her knees in front of him.  “Norris,” she said,
taking his cold hands in hers.  “I’ve been so worried about you.”

His eyes continued
staring out the window but she saw his throat move as he attempted to speak. 
“I can’t live with myself,” he said in a raw, pain filled voice.  “I’ve done
some horrible things in my life, but this is by far the worst.  I killed my
son.”

“Norris, it was an
accident.  No one blames you.  We do need you, however.  This family is lost
right now and we need to be together.”

“You need to move
on without me.”

“No,” she said
harshly.  “You are the leader of this family.  You can’t retreat like this.” 
She tried to turn his face to look at her but he resisted.  “Norris, Dr. Miller
has suggested having you committed to an institution.  You have to eat, at
least, to prove to him that you’re not a danger to yourself.”  Tears slid out
of her eyes.  “Norris, please, I don’t want you to leave.  I don’t want to be
alone.”

He looked at her
then.  She was shocked by the emptiness of his eyes but he did nod slightly. 
“I’ll eat.  I won’t leave you.”

She bowed her head
and laid it in his lap.  “Thank you, thank you.”  She sat for a long time
feeling his hand in her hair, stroking it softly.

He did eat from
that day.  Not much, and not often, but enough to keep him alive.  He did not
leave his room, however.  He accepted visits from Rachel and Laurie, but
interacted little with them.  Maryanne came every day as well in the beginning,
but found that she was unable to accept her father as the shell of the man he
once was.

On the third day
after the funeral, Peter arrived at the estate.  Rachel was in the garden,
pruning rose bushes, lost in her thoughts.  She didn’t know that Peter watched
her for long minutes before announcing himself.

“You look like
you’re not sleeping.”

She turned in
surprise.  “How long have you been here?  I didn’t hear you.”

“Not long.”  His
hands thrust in his pockets, he casually sat down on one of the wrought iron
benches.  “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

She wanted to
snipe at him.  She wanted to ask him why he cared.  She knew, however, that she
deserved his silence.  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.  “What I did was
unforgivable.”

He gazed at her
soberly.  “It was stupid.”

She flushed.  “I
know.”

“You don’t want to
make an enemy of Blanche and there’s no need for it, either.  You poked a
hornet’s nest.”

“I wouldn’t blame
you if you hated me.  I knew when you didn’t call me or come out that you were
too angry to face me.”

His eyebrows shot
up in surprise.  “Rae, I didn’t stay away because I was angry.  I’ve been with
Blanche, trying to pacify her.  If I had left her to come to you, like I wanted
to, it just would have made things worse.”

“It was so
stupid.  I was jealous of her and it was like I had no control over my mouth. 
“I’m sorry.”

He had to smile a
little then, although there was no joy in it.  “Jealous?  Of what?  You were
the one who has always told me what a horrible marriage I have.  What in the
hell are you jealous of?”

“She’s your wife.
 I
want to be your wife.”

His smile
disappeared and he looked like he had had the wind knocked out of him. 
“Spider…” he breathed out.  “God damn…you know how to sucker punch a guy, don’t
you?  I didn’t expect that.”

“I know it’s not
possible.  I know that even if you were to divorce Blanche, I could never do
that to Norris.  It doesn’t stop me from wanting it, though.”

He stood and
strode over to where she stood.  His arms scooped her up against his body and
his mouth lowered to hers.  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he muttered
against her lips.  His hands pulled through her hair, almost painfully, as he
tilted her face up.  “Look at me,” he ordered.  “If I could marry you tomorrow,
I’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.  I want you to know that.”

Tears blinded her
and she nodded.  She suddenly thought of Norris sitting at his window and she
pulled away.  “We shouldn’t,” she said through her tears.  “Norris might see
us.”

He looked like he
would argue but then took a step away from her.  “How is he?”

“He’s eating but
he won’t leave his room.”

“Maryanne said
that she’s having trouble seeing him like this.”

“He’s not
himself.  He accepts visitors but he rarely talks or make eye contact.”

“I’ll go up and
visit him.”  His eyes swept her body and they were lit with a fire.  “Could we
be together later?  Alone?”

“I…I don’t know if
I can,” she said with true regret.  “Not with Norris sitting in his room, being
like he is.”

“I understand,” he
said.  “Not that I like it, but I do understand.  Listen, after I visit with
him, we need to make some decisions.  You know Jerry McDonough, the editing
manager at the newspaper?”

“Of course.” 
Rachel was rarely at the newspaper offices but listened to Norris enough to
know the key staff.

“He called me and
things are in disarray at the paper.  He kept things going while Norris was on
vacation, but now we’re in the third week of Norris not being present and there
are things that only Norris can handle.  Jerry said that somebody from the
family needs to be present.  There is payroll to approve, financials to go
over, amongst other things.  Let me see how Norris is but if I think he’s not
mentally capable of handling the paper, or if he just doesn’t want to, somebody
is going to have to take over.”

She nodded, worry
clawing at her.  The newspaper was the family legacy.  What if it all came
crashing down around them?  “All right.  Go on up and visit with Norris.  I’ll
be in Norris’ study when you’re finished.  I have to go over the household
accounts.  Those at least I understand.”

He squeezed her
hand.  “Remind me to chastise you later for those dark circles under your
eyes.”

“Chastise all you
want,” she shot back, “but mine are no worse than yours.”

He left the garden
and Rachel was amazed at how, despite the ongoing difficulties, the day
suddenly seemed brighter.  She intended on keeping Peter at the estate for as
long as she could, Blanche be damned.

Laurie joined her
in the study and they reviewed the household accounts together, paying bills
and transferring money as needed.

“Do you think Peter
might stay for supper?” he asked hopefully.

“If we both ask
him…or beg him…maybe,” she answered with a smile.

“No begging
needed,” Peter said from the doorway.  “I would love to stay.”  He came in and
sat in the chair opposite the desk.  Rachel could see the concern in his eyes.

“How did you find
Norris?”

“He’s in no shape
to run the paper,” Peter said bluntly.  “I asked him what his wishes are.  He
wants you to take over, Rachel.”

Rachel drew back
in surprise.  “I can’t!  I don’t know the first thing about running the paper.”

“He said that
there’s no one he trusts to do it more than you.  You have the infrastructure
there.  It’s a strong staff.  We just need a family representative there to
make the decisions.”

“What if I make
the wrong one?”

“You think Norris
has never made the wrong decision?  It’s business, Rae.”  His eyes were gentle
and loving as he gazed at her.  “I think Norris is right.  There’s no one who
could do a better job than you.”

“You’ve got to do
it, Rachel,” Laurie interjected.  “The newspaper means everything to this
family.  Without it, we could lose it all.”

“We’re all here
for you.  You won’t be alone,” Peter added.

“So I would just
be a figurehead, really?”

“If it makes you
feel better to think of it that way, sure,” Peter laughed.  “Come on, Rae.  I
always knew you were destined for greatness.  Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Oh, shut up,” she
muttered.  “You know I’m going to do it.”

“I’ll draw up the
papers giving you giving you Norris’ proxy.  Get a good night’s sleep.  You
need to be at work tomorrow.”

Nervousness washed
over her and she looked at her brother with apprehension.  “You’ll come with
me?”

“Of course,”
Laurie answered with excitement.

The three of them
had a light-hearted dinner and the house heard laughter for the first time
since before the vacation.  They sat on the patio afterwards watching the sun
set and talking quietly.  It was late when Peter sighed and stood.  “I’ve got
to go.  I have to be in court at ten, but I can meet both of you at the paper
around eight.”

“That would be
wonderful,” Rachel said, standing as well.  “Thank you so much for coming out. 
We’ve missed you.”  She tilted her head back to look up in his eyes and her
breath caught at the wealth of emotion she saw.

“You know I’ll
always be there for you…for both of you.”

Laurie looked from
his sister to Peter, then back again, and he cleared his throat.  “I’m going to
head upstairs.  We have a big day tomorrow.  Good-night, Peter.”

“Good-night,
Laurie.”

After Laurie
entered the house, Peter framed Rachel’s face in his hands and lowered his lips
to hers.  They kissed lightly, both aware of the inappropriateness and futility
of allowing their passion to spin out of control.  He pulled her into his arms
and held her close to his body.  She could feel the steady drum of his heart
against her cheek and she closed her eyes, wishing they could stay like this
forever.

“Never, never
doubt how much I love you,” he said to her.  “I know this isn’t easy but don’t
let fears or insecurities get the best of you.”

“I’ll try my
best.  I am so sorry for what I did.”

“It’s behind us,”
he said dismissively.  “I just need to keep Blanche distracted.  She’ll
eventually forget it and move on to some other mission of hatred.”  He kissed
her again and pulled away reluctantly.  “Get some rest.  I’ll see you tomorrow
morning.”

He left her at the
front door and as she closed it, she turned and leaned against it with a happy
sigh.

“When did this
happen?”

She looked up,
startled, and saw Laurie sitting on the bottom step of the staircase.  She
recovered quickly.  “When did what happen?” she asked casually.

“You two are in
love with each other.”

She couldn’t deny
it.  It would feel wrong.  “I’m not sure.  After I lost the baby, he began
spending so much time out here…then, it was just there.  We realized we loved
each other.”

“What are you
going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” she
said firmly.  “He’s married and I’m married.”

“He could divorce
Blanche.”

“Yes, he could,
but I could never do that to Norris.  I owe him too much.”

“You owe him your
life?” Laurie challenged.

“Yes, and so do
you.”  She sat down next to him on the step.  “Now, especially with what’s
happened, I would never leave him.”  She leaned her head against her brother’s
shoulder.  “I’ve never expected much from life, Laurie.  Just knowing that
Peter loves me is enough for right now.”

“You won’t always
feel that way.”

“I take one day at
a time.”

They sat in
silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.  “By the way, I’ve
gone through all of Geoff’s things in his room.  I didn’t find a journal.”

“I guess we’ll
never know what he meant,” Rachel said sadly.  “I miss him.  It’s like a light
has gone out in the house.”

“I know. 
Sometimes I forget he’s gone and I think of something I want to tell him, then
it hits me.”  He shifted a little so he could look down in her face.  “We have
to make this work—the newspaper, I mean.  We can’t let Geoff’s death mean the
beginning of the end of everything we know.”

“We’ll make it
work,” Rachel assured him.  “We’re survivors.”

The next morning,
Rachel and Laurie met Peter at the newspaper and together they met with the
management staff.  If anyone was surprised that Norris’ twenty year old wife
was now in charge of the newspaper, they did not show it.  They seemed relieved
that someone from the family would be there everyday and Rachel realized that
they had all feared for their jobs.  She felt the weight of responsibility
settle on her shoulders.  This wasn’t just about saving her own family.  She
was now responsible for almost one hundred employees and their families. 
Failure was not an option.