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88: Monday Again
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
World of Tomorrow 89: Desperate Straits
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Evelyn begged, gasping the words and struggling weakly against his chest. “A—Andrew, you’re hurting me!” Cursing, he tipped her gently to her feet. “We can’t stay here, darling. You need help. Immediately.” She clutched at her abdomen, panting at the vague but no longer unbearable pain near her navel that throbbed towards her hips and pelvis and around her back. As he set her on her feet, the pain dulled to a low roar, but she felt so faint and weak, she knew she couldn’t straighten from her doubled over position, let alone walk. Both her arms and legs felt tingly and uncoordinated, like they weren’t fully under her control, and every time the pain surged, she was certain she was going to lose her breakfast. Andrew caught her as she started to slump to one side, kneeling so he could look into her face. “Do you think you can sit down so I can call an ambulance?” “I—don’t—know.” Wavering against him, she closed her eyes and fought a
World of Tomorrow 90: Upturn
Evelyn squinted her eyes against the harsh blinding lights overhead. Her throat felt so dry, scratchy and painful, so much so that when at first she tried to speak, she couldn’t make the sounds come out. She felt so weak, there was no way to lift her head, which throbbed like it had after the one gala when Mr. Valenzuela had plied her with too much champagne. That next morning she’d woken with a miserable headache, much like this one. Or like the ones she’d had when she’d overslept after trying to catch up on previously missed sleep. What didn’t hurt was her body, her abdomen in particular. The knifing pain, both laterally and from front to back through her navel to her spine, that had split through her belly was gone. Mercifully. “Evie?” Lily. Evelyn sighed in contentment, despite the discomfort of being able to hear her best friend, but not lift or turn her head to see her. Her voice came from somewhere near her feet, but still beyond the reach of her visio
World of Tomorrow 91: The Next Monday
Evelyn woke to the soft rap of the nurse on the door, then the woman entered to take her vital signs. Smiling, she dragged herself slowly to a sitting position to make things easier for her caregiver, and whispered a polite, “Hello.” “Good morning.” She shook the mercury down in the thermometer and provided the tired instruction, “Under your tongue. Don’t bite the glass.” Holding her wrist still, Evelyn let her head shift towards the hard chair where Andrew was still sleeping, slumped over uncomfortably to one side, his shoulder hunched to keep his head on the chairback. Keeping her voice low so not to wake him, Evelyn asked the nurse, “What time is it, please?” since there was no clock in her room. Not having one had added exponentially to the sensation that she’d lost time and critical parts of her life. It didn’t help in the least that under morphine, her sleep schedule was erratic, leaving further gaps in her memory since she’d arrived at the hospital. “Just after seven. I’m so
World of Tomorrow 92: More Monday Mayhem
Please God, do not let the moisture seeping into my sleeve be blood. Please, don’t let her be bleeding, Andrew prayed, still trying to rein in his own pain and keep Evelyn off the floor. “Mr. James?” “Tank!” Andrew exclaimed. “Thank God. I need your assistance. Will you help me get Evelyn off the floor, please?” A few seconds after, he felt the driver’s large arms slip gently between him and Evelyn, then her weight was lifted off. “What happened? Who was that woman? Mary!” Rolling to his knees, Andrew staggered to his feet, then glanced at his arm. Blood. He whirled, stumbling towards Evelyn where Tank had laid her on the sofa and crashing to his knees. A heavy stain, bright red against the shimmery white of her nightgown, stretched across her abdomen. “Tank, do you have a pocketknife?” “I have scissors.” Mary hurried forward, pulling a pair of scissors from the front pocket of her dress. Lifting the sticky fabric, Andrew snipped it open, then cut a wide hole in the abdomen of
World of Tomorrow 93: Arrangements
“But—she was just—I don’t understand. How?” Stunned, Evelyn stumbled over her words, completely at a loss for what to say. Charlotte had been an unpleasant woman, but everything about her life seemed pitiful and tragic, even her sudden end. As if her words were the heaviest thing to bear, Andrew closed his eyes. “An automobile accident. Apparently, she had driven herself here. She lost control of the car on the Taconic. Collided with a truck head-on.” “The Taconic State Parkway? But I thought she was in St. Louis?” Confused, her brows drew together. There hadn’t been much time for her to catch up on what had happened during the week she’d spent in the hospital, but she was certain he had told her the private investigators had found Charlotte there and were able to serve the divorce petition. Opening his eyes, he nodded. “She was.” He rose, releasing her hand to come around to his side of the bed. Sitting on the side, he slipped off his shoes and stretched out
World of Tomorrow 94: Hearing
Evelyn watched from the bed as Andrew selected a neatly hung suit from the closet, matching it carefully to a crisply pressed shirt, then selected a suitable tie. As he emerged from the closet, he glanced up at her, freshly washed after showering with his help and propped against the pillows on their bed, combing out her wet hair. He stopped in place, surprised to find her watching him so intently. With an appreciative smile, she let her eyes flick down the naked length of him, then return slowly to his face. Her smile broadened as, detecting the movement of her eyes, he glanced down at his own nakedness. Looking up again, he arched a brow, then flashed her a lazy grin. “I see you must be feeling better.” Still smiling, she replied, “Quite tired still, but not so exhausted that I don’t recognize a pleasant sight when I see one.” Andrew couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so flirtatious, but he wouldn’t complain either. He grinned wickedly. Laying the suit, dress shirt and tie
World of Tomorrow 95: Preparations
“Mr. James!” “Andrew James!” A flurry of jackets and fluttering paper greeted him as he and Alexander descended the courthouse steps. Andrew flinched at a bright camera flash, frowning as white spots blinded parts of his vision. The press. Just what he needed. Alexander clapped an arm around his shoulders. “I warned you,” he said softly. “Just get me out of it.” “Mr. James, is it true your wife was killed after meeting with you?” a reporter demanded, shoving in close with a large cluster of others. “Were you arguing about the divorce?” “Ladies and gentlemen,” Alexander cut in, steering Andrew toward the street and a line of awaiting cabs, “these questions are of no consequence. Mrs. James died tragically yesterday afternoon. Mr. James has just dropped his divorce petition to take care of his wife’s remains and final estate matters.” “Your court documents state Mrs. James has been residing in St. Louis since sometime ove
World of Tomorrow 96: Winding Down
Evelyn recognized the perfunctory knock as Andrew’s before the door opened and he slipped into their bedroom. He hadn’t made it home in time to have lunch with her as he’d hoped. Instead, after taking care of his other errands— which, for some bizarre reason she had yet to hear, included Justin—they’d barely had time to get to the children’s school at the dismissal hour to pick them up. Between Sarah’s mathematics homework—Andrew’s parenting responsibility—and Peter’s reading assignment—Evelyn’s childcare duty—and the myriad of hysterics and tantrums that seemed to go hand in hand with both children’s learning process, then whining over the dinner options, then arguments about baths, then bedtime rituals, there hadn’t been much time for her and Andrew to talk. Whispered in passing, he had mentioned he thought to talk to the children tonight about Charlotte’s death, but she began to wonder if he wasn’t having second thoughts after how exhausting the evening had been.
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
