Play Dead
Page 50
Mary stepped back and let her daughter enter. They moved into the den and sat down in chairs facing each other. Neither one spoke for several moments.
“I’m so sorry about David,” Mary began uneasily. She pressed her palms against her skirt. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
“I’m doing okay.”
Mary reached out and took her daughter’s hand. Tears started to gather in Mary’s eyes. “Please forgive me, Laura. I never meant to hurt you. You know I love you. You know I only want what’s best for you.”
Laura knelt forward and took her mother in her arms. “It’s okay, Mom,” she said softly. “I know you were trying to help.”
“I love you so much, honey.”
“I love you, too,” Laura replied, feeling tremendous guilt for what she had put her mother through. “I’m sorry I was so unforgiving.”
“No. You had every right to be.” Mary looked up hopefully. “Oh, Laura, do you really forgive me? Is it really all behind us?”
Laura nodded. “Mom?”
“Yes, honey.”
“I want to ask you something important.”
Mary dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “What is it, baby?”
“Why didn’t you like David?”
Mary felt her chest tighten. “Oh, Laura, that’s all in the past now.”
“I’d like to know.”
Mary’s eyes darted around the room as though looking for a safe haven. “It’s not important now.”
“Mother . . .”
“You loved him, honey. I was wrong to interfere.”
“But you must have had a reason.”
“I guess I did at the time.”
“You guess?”
“You . . . you know how mothers are,” Mary said, her voice cracking. “No man is good enough for my precious baby.”
“I dated men before David. You never interfered before.”
“But you were never serious about them,” Mary answered. “Please, can’t we talk about something else?”
Laura ignored her request. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You disliked David right away, the first time I mentioned his name to you. Why, Mother?”
A nervous shrug came off of Mary’s beautiful shoulders. “I never trusted athletes, I guess. But I was wrong, honey. He was a wonderful man. I’m sure he loved you very much.”
“What makes you say that now?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I guess I just realized I was wrong.”
“When did this fact dawn on you, Mother?” Laura demanded. “When he died?”
“No . . . I mean . . . Laura, please, I made a mistake. Can’t we just put it behind us?”
“How can I, Mother?” Laura shouted. “I lost the only man I ever loved. We were forced to secretly elope, and do you know why?”
“The press must have been hassling—”
“No, Mother! We were both used to handling the press. We eloped because my own mother swore the wedding would only take place over her dead body! That’s why we took off for Australia and didn’t tell you!”
Mary started to sob.
“And now David is dead.”
Mary’s head snapped up. “You can’t blame me! I was just . . .”
“Just what, Mother? Don’t you understand what happened? Because of some goddamn whim of yours, David and I felt shunned by my own mother. We ran away to Australia because of you!”
“Stop! Please!”
“And he drowned there, Mother. The man I loved perished there because you didn’t like athletes, because—”
“I had my reasons!” Mary shouted back.
“What were they? What were your reasons?”
But the only answer Laura received was more sobbing—uncontrollable sobs that racked Mary’s body. Her shoulders and chest heaved. Laura looked at the pitiful figure that was her mother and took hold of herself. What have I done? Laura asked herself. She had come here to forgive her mother, to release her from the undeserving torment she had suffered at Laura’s hands over the past few months. Instead, Laura had attacked her with a vengeance that left them both trembling.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it. I just hurt all over and sometimes I just attack. . . .”
She took her mother in her arms and together they both cried. Laura stroked her mother’s hair. Some secrets defy death, Laura realized, and some truths are best kept buried deep in the past. Laura understood that. She knew the truth was not always a good thing. The truth could cause pain. Devastating pain. Pain that could destroy lives.
But that did not mean Laura would allow herself to be protected from the truth, to live a life where ignorance was bliss. Not when it came to David. After all, Laura’s heart had already been torn from her chest. What further harm could the past do to her now? No, Laura decided, I will seek the truth.
And find it.
ALL eyes were on Mark Seidman. “I can shoot better than any man alive.”
“Who the hell are you?” a reporter yelled out.
“Mark Seidman from the Boston Eagle Weekly.”
“The what?”
“Don’t pay any attention to him, fellas,” Clip interrupted. “He’s just some pain-in-the-ass heckler. Ignore him. To answer your question, Mike, the finest shooter in the game today is Timmy Daniels.”
“Wanna bet?” shouted the blond heckler.
Clip looked over to the security guards. “Okay, that’s it. Throw the bum out.” The uniformed guards strolled over to the bleachers.
Mark quickly stood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of green bills. “Ten thousand dollars,” he shouted. “One hundred portraits of Ben Franklin on crisp, new bills say I can beat Timmy Daniels in a three-point shoot-out.”
The gymnasium fell silent. Mark watched Clip’s face turn red with fury. “I said, throw the bum out!”
Reporters started snapping pictures. Mark waved the money. “Ten thousand dollars for the charity of your choosing, Mr. Arnstein. You put up zilch. Any charity you choose. No risk at all—unless you’re a little afraid your shooting star’s ego will be bruised by a stranger off the street.”
Timmy leaned toward Clip. “Let me shut this punk up.”
“Yeah, Clip,” one of the reporters added. “Let Tim take this kid’s dough.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gymnasium.
“I’m so sorry about David,” Mary began uneasily. She pressed her palms against her skirt. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
“I’m doing okay.”
Mary reached out and took her daughter’s hand. Tears started to gather in Mary’s eyes. “Please forgive me, Laura. I never meant to hurt you. You know I love you. You know I only want what’s best for you.”
Laura knelt forward and took her mother in her arms. “It’s okay, Mom,” she said softly. “I know you were trying to help.”
“I love you so much, honey.”
“I love you, too,” Laura replied, feeling tremendous guilt for what she had put her mother through. “I’m sorry I was so unforgiving.”
“No. You had every right to be.” Mary looked up hopefully. “Oh, Laura, do you really forgive me? Is it really all behind us?”
Laura nodded. “Mom?”
“Yes, honey.”
“I want to ask you something important.”
Mary dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “What is it, baby?”
“Why didn’t you like David?”
Mary felt her chest tighten. “Oh, Laura, that’s all in the past now.”
“I’d like to know.”
Mary’s eyes darted around the room as though looking for a safe haven. “It’s not important now.”
“Mother . . .”
“You loved him, honey. I was wrong to interfere.”
“But you must have had a reason.”
“I guess I did at the time.”
“You guess?”
“You . . . you know how mothers are,” Mary said, her voice cracking. “No man is good enough for my precious baby.”
“I dated men before David. You never interfered before.”
“But you were never serious about them,” Mary answered. “Please, can’t we talk about something else?”
Laura ignored her request. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You disliked David right away, the first time I mentioned his name to you. Why, Mother?”
A nervous shrug came off of Mary’s beautiful shoulders. “I never trusted athletes, I guess. But I was wrong, honey. He was a wonderful man. I’m sure he loved you very much.”
“What makes you say that now?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I guess I just realized I was wrong.”
“When did this fact dawn on you, Mother?” Laura demanded. “When he died?”
“No . . . I mean . . . Laura, please, I made a mistake. Can’t we just put it behind us?”
“How can I, Mother?” Laura shouted. “I lost the only man I ever loved. We were forced to secretly elope, and do you know why?”
“The press must have been hassling—”
“No, Mother! We were both used to handling the press. We eloped because my own mother swore the wedding would only take place over her dead body! That’s why we took off for Australia and didn’t tell you!”
Mary started to sob.
“And now David is dead.”
Mary’s head snapped up. “You can’t blame me! I was just . . .”
“Just what, Mother? Don’t you understand what happened? Because of some goddamn whim of yours, David and I felt shunned by my own mother. We ran away to Australia because of you!”
“Stop! Please!”
“And he drowned there, Mother. The man I loved perished there because you didn’t like athletes, because—”
“I had my reasons!” Mary shouted back.
“What were they? What were your reasons?”
But the only answer Laura received was more sobbing—uncontrollable sobs that racked Mary’s body. Her shoulders and chest heaved. Laura looked at the pitiful figure that was her mother and took hold of herself. What have I done? Laura asked herself. She had come here to forgive her mother, to release her from the undeserving torment she had suffered at Laura’s hands over the past few months. Instead, Laura had attacked her with a vengeance that left them both trembling.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it. I just hurt all over and sometimes I just attack. . . .”
She took her mother in her arms and together they both cried. Laura stroked her mother’s hair. Some secrets defy death, Laura realized, and some truths are best kept buried deep in the past. Laura understood that. She knew the truth was not always a good thing. The truth could cause pain. Devastating pain. Pain that could destroy lives.
But that did not mean Laura would allow herself to be protected from the truth, to live a life where ignorance was bliss. Not when it came to David. After all, Laura’s heart had already been torn from her chest. What further harm could the past do to her now? No, Laura decided, I will seek the truth.
And find it.
ALL eyes were on Mark Seidman. “I can shoot better than any man alive.”
“Who the hell are you?” a reporter yelled out.
“Mark Seidman from the Boston Eagle Weekly.”
“The what?”
“Don’t pay any attention to him, fellas,” Clip interrupted. “He’s just some pain-in-the-ass heckler. Ignore him. To answer your question, Mike, the finest shooter in the game today is Timmy Daniels.”
“Wanna bet?” shouted the blond heckler.
Clip looked over to the security guards. “Okay, that’s it. Throw the bum out.” The uniformed guards strolled over to the bleachers.
Mark quickly stood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of green bills. “Ten thousand dollars,” he shouted. “One hundred portraits of Ben Franklin on crisp, new bills say I can beat Timmy Daniels in a three-point shoot-out.”
The gymnasium fell silent. Mark watched Clip’s face turn red with fury. “I said, throw the bum out!”
Reporters started snapping pictures. Mark waved the money. “Ten thousand dollars for the charity of your choosing, Mr. Arnstein. You put up zilch. Any charity you choose. No risk at all—unless you’re a little afraid your shooting star’s ego will be bruised by a stranger off the street.”
Timmy leaned toward Clip. “Let me shut this punk up.”
“Yeah, Clip,” one of the reporters added. “Let Tim take this kid’s dough.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gymnasium.
