The Night's Legacy Page 8

  “It wasn’t her fault.”

  “I know that. Everyone but her understands that. You know how she is. She blames herself for her parents dying, for you leaving, and even for Betty getting cancer. If she weren’t so damned nice I’d say she was neurotic.”

  That sounded true enough. She always thought of herself as a martyr. Instead of crying or screaming about it, though, she kept it inside and worked even harder to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. “What can I do for her?”

  “All you need to do is be supportive. And try not to get into any more trouble.”

  “But that’s not going to help the arthritis.”

  “No, it’s not. There’s not a lot we can do about that. It’s a degenerative condition. But you can be there for her when she needs it. Give her less to worry about.”

  Lois nodded. “Thanks. And I’m sorry to barge in like this.”

  “It’s no problem. You and your mom are my favorite patients.”

  “Also the most annoying, right?”

  “That too.” The doctor patted her on the back. “I’ll have Ellen call a cab for you. I’m sure you have to get back to work.”

  Lois checked her watch. She was about two hours overdue from lunch. Tony was probably thinking she’d run away. Just another problem she’d have to smooth out.

  Chapter 7

  As Lois climbed up the steps to the museum, she expected to find Mom waiting for her or perhaps a security guard with a message for her to go up to the fourth floor. There was no one waiting to greet her, not until she got back to the gift shop. Then Melanie ran around the counter and crushed Lois in a hug.

  “Oh my God, I was so worried! I thought you’d gotten mugged or something.”

  “No, I’m fine. I just went to the doctor.”

  “The doctor? Are you all right?” Melanie stared down into Lois’s eyes. “Your pupils don’t look dilated or anything like that. It’s not the c-word, is it?”

  “No! It’s nothing. Really.” Lois looked around the store, but there were no customers at the moment. No sign of Tony either. She saw the cash register. “Hey, you know what would be fun? How about you show me how to use the cash register?”

  “Sure! It’s super-easy. I learned it in about three days and I’m not a genius or anything.”

  Melanie seized Lois’s arm to drag her behind the counter. She began hitting buttons, the cash drawer finally popping open. Lois had operated a similar register before in a couple of her jobs. As Melanie had indicated, there wasn’t a lot to it. Mostly she just had to be careful not to try sneaking any money into her pocket—or letting anyone else do that. “If your drawer is ten dollars over at the end of the day Tony has to write you up,” Melanie said.

  “That sucks. Where is he, anyway?”

  “He went out to lunch. I thought maybe he was looking for you. You didn’t see him, did you?”

  “No. Did you get your lunch yet?”

  “Oh, sure. He covered for me and I went downstairs real quick.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here—”

  “No prob. Sometimes I feel sick too. Once I was throwing up every morning for two weeks. I thought for sure I was pregnant.”

  “But you weren’t?”

  “No way! I’m saving myself for when I find the perfect guy. Not like that creep, Ollie.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Have you ever—?”

  “Oh no. I’m saving myself too.”

  Melanie smiled, the proverbial light bulb going on over her head again. “Hey, maybe we can both find a perfect guy and get knocked up! Wouldn’t that be great? We could go the same Lamaze class and shop for baby clothes—”

  “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We have to find someone first.”

  Melanie pouted at this. “I guess you’re right. Or we could go to a sperm bank. I’m totally going to do that if I haven’t found anyone by the time I’m forty or something. Hey, you want to make a pact that if both of our biological clocks are running out we’ll go to the sperm bank together?”

  Lois stared at her for a moment, until she realized that Melanie was serious. “Sure. Should we make it a pinky promise?”

  “Great idea!” The intertwined their left pinkies and Lois recited Melanie’s vow that if they were both getting old they would go to a sperm bank together. She just hoped she wouldn’t ever have to worry about fulfilling that promise.

  Tony had the good timing to come in as they finished. He broke into a grin when he saw her. “So you decided to come back?”

  “For now.” She motioned to the register. “Melanie was showing me how the register works.”

  “Really? Well, the next person who comes in here you can ring up.”

  They had to wait five minutes for a customer to show up. Lois prayed it wouldn’t be Mom or Dr. Johnson. Her prayers were answered; an old woman toddled up to the counter with an armload of T-shirts. Lois could feel Tony’s eyes on her back as the old woman approached.

  “Hello, ma’am. Did you find everything you were looking for?”

  “Oh yes,” the old woman said.

  “Is this your first time at the Thorne Museum?”

  “Oh my, no. I first came here back in 1945 with my husband and my son. He was just three at the time—”

  Lois forced herself to keep smiling while the old woman prattled on. The old woman didn’t seem to notice as Lois took the shirts, ringing them up and then passing them to Melanie, who slipped them into a bag. From what the old woman said, her son had been about as well-behaved as Lois when she was a toddler. He had even tried to climb Jeff, but hadn’t thought in advance enough to create a distraction, so that security apprehended him before he could even get up to the trunk.

  “Are you going to be in the area long?” Lois managed to get in, hoping to turn the tide of the conversation.

  “Just another day or two. Then my daughter and I are going up to Quebec—”

  The old woman continued talking for twenty minutes; Lois wondered when was the last time anyone had listened to the old woman’s stories. As two other customers came up behind her, the old woman said, “Well, I best be getting on.”

  “Do you need any help with those?” Lois asked as she handed the bags over the counter.

  “I’ll be all right, dear. But thank you for asking. You’re such a nice young woman. You don’t often see that these days.”

  “Thank you and come back again the next time you’re in the area.”

  “I most certainly will.”

  The other two customers went much quicker, apparently not as starved for conversation. Once the last one had left, Melanie squealed and said, “She’s a natural!”

  “She sure is,” Tony said. He gave her a covert pat on the rear as if she were a baseball player. “Tomorrow you’ll get your very own drawer.”

  “Well, I’m moving up in the world,” Lois teased and then went back to work.

  * * *

  It came as no surprise to find Mom still working at her desk, even though most of the museum staff had gone home. Not even Lorna was still around when Lois opened the door to her mother’s office. Mom nodded to her and then motioned to a chair. Without looking up, she asked, “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

  “Most of it.” Lois sank down on the chair and stared down at the floor, waiting for Mom to lecture her. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of it.”

  “No, it’s my fault. You had a right to be concerned. And I should have asked Lorna to make the appointment like I promised.”

  “But I still shouldn’t have done it, right?”

  “You’ve always been brash.”

  “Not like you.”

  Mom put down her pen and stared at Lois. Not with the sternness of a Glare, at least not yet. “No, you aren’t like me. You’re your own person. You always have been.”

  “That’s not what everyone else thinks. Or wants.”

  “Is that why you ran away? Because of what other people wanted from y
ou?”

  “No,” Lois said, though her voice was as tiny as if she were a child again. “Maybe it had something to do with it.”

  “You could have talked to me about it. We could have found a way—”

  “What could you have done? Not even the director of the almighty Thorne Museum can change people’s expectations.”

  Now Lois got the Glare. She could feel it even while still looking down at her feet. “I’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re my daughter.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  Mom sighed. “I know. It wasn’t always easy for me either. It’s a terrible thing for people to think you’re a genius. There’s nowhere to hide. You’re always in the spotlight.” She sighed a second time. “Maybe I should have done what you did. Disappeared. Gone off the grid. Found a quiet little town where no one knew me.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I loved this place too much. Working here was my dream job. When they told me I got the job as a junior researcher, I about fainted dead away. It was the most exciting moment of my life—until a few years later.”

  “When you had me?”

  “Of course, sweetheart. I do love you. I always will.”

  “Even though I’m a screw-up?”

  “You’re not a screw-up. You’re just finding yourself.” Mom looked down at something on her desk. “Tony says you’re taking to the gift shop like a fish in water.”

  “You checking up on me?”

  Mom smiled slightly. “Executive privilege.”

  “What else does he say?”

  “That you’ve really improved morale around there. Melanie seems to have really taken a shine to you.” Mom stared at Lois for a moment. “What do you think of her?”

  “She’s nice.”

  “A bit flighty?”

  “I don’t know about that—”

  “She’s a good girl. She has a good heart.”

  Lois smiled as she thought of how quickly Melanie had taken to her, how Melanie had seemed so concerned about her earlier. “She does.” Lois cleared her throat as a thought occurred to her. “Did you hire her because of me?”

  “Me? The director doesn’t typically hire the gift shop staff.”

  “Unless it’s her daughter who needs a job.”

  “Again, executive privilege.”

  Lois nodded. She looked around the office at the papers and folders piled up everywhere. “You should use that privilege more often. Delegate some of this stuff.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

  “Maybe you should listen.”

  “I might, now that you’re here. I should really keep an eye on you.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I’ll always worry about you. That’s what mothers do.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should let me worry about you for a little while.” Lois motioned to the desk. “How about I give you a hand with that stuff? Take some of the load off your shoulders.”

  “That’s sweet of you to offer, but these are very involved—”

  “Hey, I’m a genius, remember? A chip off the old block.”

  Mom considered this for a minute. Then she nodded. “All right. If you insist. I’ll show you what a museum director does.”

  * * *

  A lot of what a museum director did was tedious. There were budget reports, tax reports, benefits reports, and a host of bureaucratic busywork. That was only half of it. The other half involved responding to donors, massaging their egos. Those weren’t the only egos in need of massaging; there was also infighting between department heads. Dr. Johnson of course wasn’t a problem, but some of the others fought constant turf wars over exhibit space and fund allocations. Mom had to walk a tightrope with them, trying to appease both sides without ruining the budget.

  As they worked, Lois brought up the subject of what she had found out from Dr. Pavelski’s files. “Were you really that depressed after I left?” she worked up the courage to ask.

  “Not clinically depressed. At least I didn’t think so. Laura gave me the prescription in case I felt I needed them.”

  “And the sleeping pills?”

  “Another precaution.”

  “She says you don’t have good coping skills.”

  Mom shrugged at this. “She’s probably right.” She leaned back in her chair and turned to face the window, which gave a spectacular view of the city’s skyscrapers, all of them lit up for the night like manmade constellations. “When my parents died they tried to get me to see a therapist. I refused to go. I didn’t want to sit in an office talking about what had happened. So I went back to school. I worked hard.”

  “You kept pushing yourself, like a car driving on a bad wheel.”

  Mom turned around. “Did Laura say that?”

  “Something along those lines. She thinks you’re about to break an axle.”

  “I don’t know. I think my old tires still have some tread on them.”

  “Still, you could use to relax a little more.”

  “I suppose. Where’s that budget proposal?” Lois handed a sheaf of papers to her mother, who began to examine them. “It is good of you to offer to help. I just hope I’m not keeping you from anything important. If you want to go out with your friends—”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t have any plans for tonight.” They worked in silence for a little while longer. There was something else Lois wanted to ask about her visit to Dr. Pavelski’s office. She couldn’t think of how to ask it, though. Finally she blurted out, “Why didn’t he sign the birth certificate? Was he dead? Had he already taken off?”

  Mom looked up from the papers and took off her reading glasses. “Did she say anything about him?”

  “No, but I saw the birth certificate. I thought maybe it’d be different. Was he even there?”

  “No, he wasn’t there.”

  “Was he some kind of deadbeat or something?”

  “He’s not a deadbeat. He’s a wonderful man.”

  “So wonderful he left you alone to raise a child?”

  Mom Glared at her so hard that Lois thought she’d finally gotten underneath her mother’s skin. But Mom said, “There were other considerations to take into account. We had to do what was right for both of us.”

  “Leaving me without a father? That was right?”

  “You can’t possibly understand.”

  Lois jumped to her feet. “Then why don’t you tell me? If he’s so wonderful then why isn’t he around? Why hasn’t he even sent me a lousy birthday card?”

  Despite that Lois was about to cry, Mom remained damnably calm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. When the time’s right, he’ll tell you.”

  “So he’s still alive?”

  “Very much so.”

  “And you still see him? Is that why you’re out all night?”

  “I have seen him, from time to time.”

  “But why can’t I meet him? Why can’t I even know his name?”

  “I wish you could. It’s just not possible.”

  “Why the hell not? Is he some kind of secret agent? Is he in witness protection?”

  “There’s no point talking about this any further. He’ll explain it all to you when he’s ready. Or if something should happen to him, I’ll tell you.”

  “That’s real comforting.”

  Mom still didn’t get riled; she just put her glasses back on and resumed working. Lois wanted to tear the papers from her mother’s hands and rip them into tiny pieces, but she knew there was no point. Mom had had sixteen years to tell Lois about her father and she hadn’t done so all during that time. There was little chance she’d change that now.

  “Fine, don’t tell me. I’m going to get some air.”

  “Lois—”

  “It’s all right, Mom. Keep your dirty fucking secrets.” She didn’t give Mom a chance to lecture her about her language. Instead, she stomped out of the office and back to the elev
ator. A few minutes roaming the main hall would help her to cool down.

  She had just stepped out of the elevator when she heard Stan the security guard’s voice saying, “Sorry, Mr.—” A sound like a sneeze cut him off.

  Lois sensed right away that something was wrong. She flattened herself against the wall and then peeked around it. Right away she saw Stan lying on the floor by the front doors, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

  * * *

  Her first thought was to get back on the elevator and go up to the fourth floor. If she did that, whoever had shot Stan might see the elevator going up to the fourth floor. She and Mom would be sitting ducks then. The stairs would be safer. She could take them up to the second floor and find an emergency phone.

  Mom was thorough enough that the door didn’t squeak when she opened it. She eased the door shut behind her, not wanting to alert whoever had broken in to her presence. As she began to climb up, she waited to hear the sound of an alarm. Mom had spent millions on the museum’s security system, with motion detectors, cameras, and pressure-sensitive alarms in addition to the guards. Yet someone had opened the front door and shot a guard without any alarms going off. It didn’t make much sense.

  She was equally careful in opening and closing the door to the second floor. Maybe she should try setting off an alarm herself. That might scare the prowler away. It might also draw the prowler to her. She knew he had a gun and wasn’t afraid to use it.

  Creeping around the corner, she couldn’t resist taking a peek downstairs. She was kneeling just inches above Jeff the mammoth’s bronzed skeleton, looking down at the great hall. Right away she could see there was more than one prowler. At least ten of them that she could see, most of them wearing bulky black armor and ski masks. These guys were definitely prepared for trouble. The question was: what did they want?

  None of them seemed to be watching her, so she scurried away, keeping low so that the railing would conceal her. She would have ran into the gift shop, but Tony had secured the metal mesh curtain for the night. As a new employee she hadn’t been given a key to that yet. She wasn’t likely to get one either if these thieves put a bullet in her.