Chapter 51
New Mexico, 1984
An old western town in New Mexico, once called Shotgun Siding, then proudly renamed Tucumcari by some hopeful residents, stagnated in the center of desert land. Although Route 66 still ran through it, the bypass drew off most of the trade that once made this part an active watering hole on the way west. Now drivers could skirt tiny Tucumcari and speed directly to giant Albuquerque 180 miles away. So many of the motels and restaurants once brilliant with flashing signs in the sixties and seventies were only disreputable reminders of past splendor. Still, the town survived as it catered to the needs of the large ranches that encompassed the land around it and their wealthy owners.
None of this was important to the child who called it home.
For seven-year-old Gavin Nelson, this Sunday began in its usual way. A morning to sleep-in, he didn’t. Struggling out of his junior-size bed, he made his way by the glow of a night lamp, through the turmoil of toys that cluttered the earth-tone rug. Out of his room by five a.m. the small fellow was standing in his parents’ bedroom a few seconds later.
Tempted to ignore the tug on his blanket, Darrell Clark moaned. “Don’t you ever sleep?”
Gavin whimpered, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Couldn’t you wait till a decent hour?”
“Not funny,” came through an exaggerated sniffle.
“So, okay, where’s the pain?” Clark lifted the edge of the covers, squirming over so his son could crawl in.
Gavin snuggled against his dad. “In my belly and I was cold.”
The man grinned knowingly as he slipped his arm under the small warm body and gently massaged the slightly protruding belly. “Too much popcorn last night,” was only answered by a contented yawn. Though he complained, Darrell Clark secretly enjoyed giving the attentions his only son demanded of him. He’ll outgrow it, he promised his wife on an average of five times a week.
~~~
Aware of the intruder, Lucy Clark pretended sleep. She was unable to bring herself to order the child back to his own bed. She was quickly losing the ability to correct their son at all.
She lay there and remembered. Andrea Nelson and all that money. Lucy hadn’t told Darrell the whole truth about the lovely ‘Arab princess’ and her unwanted infant. In fact she didn’t completely believe Andrea’s horror stories since the woman had fluctuated between depression and hysteria through the entire ordeal. Then her claim that the child was her very own brother’s and her father would see them both dead, frightened Lucy.
When Andrea had first pleaded with, then offered money to Lucy to smother the baby, the woman’s protective instinct had kicked in and she gave Andrea another solution.
The nurse and her husband had been in their late-twenties with outrageous bills and life seemed so difficult.
“Damn it! No!” Darrell had argued. “It’s not like he’d ever be ours. If she’s set on not raising the baby why not let someone adopt him?”
“She’s offering us a new start,” Lucy begged. “No more grubbing for pennies.” Just months over a difficult pregnancy herself, which resulted in nothing but added expenses and heartache, the nurse felt deeply for her patient.
“You get attached to the kid then she wants it back.”
“I won’t let myself.” Lucy promised. “With things easier, I’ll get pregnant again. I’ll quit working. I’ll carry.”
Darrell had threatened, “You’re going to be damn sorry. A kid’s not a puppy you love for a while then give away because the landlord says, no pets. Before long every day will have you worrying, is this the day she wants him back?”
Only that hadn’t happened. In seven years Andrea never so much as called. How quickly Gavin had become their son. Now their family was coming apart—Lucy saw her own agony reflected daily in her husband’s eyes. All her fault, Lucy shivered with guilt as she heard Darrell hush Gavin’s giggles.
She lay there until the sun came up, crying silently into her pillow. Andrea Nelson was dead, murdered in some hideous way. The law had discovered her child—their child and twice they’d been subjected to questioning. Their lawyer had informed them Andrea’s mother had every right to seek custody of the boy. The reason she seemed hesitant to jump into a custody battle at present was due to the suicide of her husband. But Mrs. Nelson was a very wealthy woman and it was unlikely she would grant the couple’s request to adopt Gavin.
Just before noon, the Clarks’ glowing Sunday brunch ended in a sorry affair when the well-dressed woman made her appearance. Lucy saw the rear door of the Cadillac parked in front of their home open. The petite black lady who exited, and began trudging up the stairs to their front door should have been a stranger. Since her daughter’s murder, the news media had destroyed her cover.
Alarmed, Lucy Clark quickly ushered her youngsters out the rear door and across the wide yard to the security of a friend’s home.
Alone Darrell Clark faced Andrea Nelson’s mother. “I’m tired of lawyers’ games,” the woman said. “The boy is my grandson.” She attempted a smile to counter his brooding frown. “You could at least let me see him.”
“We’re not opposed to that.”
“Then why the mysterious nonsense? Where is the boy?”
“My son,” Clark emphasized. “Has no knowledge of your daughter, your family. That’s the way Andrea, wanted it.”
“So I’ve been informed and informed.” Candace Nelson’s tone was skeptical.
Bringing Clark’s sharply replied, “If you think otherwise. Then tell me—why didn’t your daughter tell you about the child herself? It has been seven years.”
“Believe me, Mr. Clark, I wish I could figure that out. Andrea had no reason to think we would condemn her; refuse to accept our grandson. My husband possessed strong moral convictions but…” She faltered at the open scorn on the man’s face. Someone had leaked the information in Andrea’s journals and the media was playing it up big time. While the law hadn’t actually tagged a name on any of the characters in Andrea’s tales, it didn’t take a genius to make the connection between the judge, who committed suicide, and the character ‘Daddy Do No Right’ who had sexually abused the thirteen-year-old girl in Andrea’s writings.
“This may be way out west to you, Mrs. Nelson, but we do have TV and newspapers—” Darrell yelled as the back door flew open.
“Darrell,” Lucy yelped before he could finish the accusation against the woman’s dead husband. “Please,” Lucy offered. “Mrs. Nelson, come into the living room.” She threw her husband a frightened glance while ushering the older woman into her home.
~~~
Should let her stand in the hall, Clark thought, she might leave sooner. Then he berated himself; I’m not being fair. She has every right to meet Gavin. But, God, how do we tell him? His own steps dragged as he followed the women.
~~~
Seated and accepting a glass of sherry, the small dark lady smiled faintly up at the tall blonde female as she said, “I’m not much of a drinker but thank you. Believe me Mrs. Clark.”
“Lucy.”
“Thank you, Candace,” she offered. “Lucy, I’m not interested in harming my grandson. I didn’t come here with the intention of sending the boy into shock.”
Clark put in, “Then why did you come?”
“To see him. I admit, as much out of curiosity as maternal instinct.” Candace Nelson met Darrell Clark’s frosty glare with a condescending smile as she continued. “I am so grateful that Gavin has been blessed with such caring people. For now we needn’t tell him who I am.”
“And how do we do that? Gavin this is Mrs. Nelson, ha, ha, same last name as yours.”
“Darrell! That was uncalled for.”
“It’s all right Lucy. My maiden name was Harris, you can introduce me that way.”
~~~
Lucy Clark returned with her entire brood for she did not want Gavin to realize he was being singled out. Frosted blonde Lori, plump with baby fat, was innocently trusting at two-and-two-months and waddled up to the stranger. Lucianne, a suspicious five turning skinny, held back. There was no friendliness in the little girl’s face.
The small boy smiled shyly as he muttered the required, “Hello,” then retreated to his father’s side.
Though she lifted a contented Lori to her lap, Candace Nelson’s interest was only in the boy. Andrea’s son, she pondered, and who else? Connors? The same black hair but that was to be expected. Around the mouth…he’s still too young to be certain. “Gavin?” she said and Darrell Clark dropped to one knee as if intending to block the child from her. She laughed gently. “They tell me you’re big on baseball. Me too. I’m a Yankee fan. Who is your team?”
“Dodgers.” Gavin giggled as he poked at his father who was now conveniently at his level and pretending pain.
“A Texan?”
“This ain’t Texas, Mzharris.” Gavin corrected. “It’s New Mexico. We picked our own team. My daddy says it’s best when you can choose.”
“He would see it that way. But, I was born to be a Yankee fan. I don’t regret it. We all inherit things not always are they bad.”
“Gavin’s daddy is taking him to a Dodgers game,” Lucy said. “We desert folks have to plan these things in advance. Their flight to L.A. is at four and Clovis Airport is a better than an hour drive. Perhaps, Candace, you’d like to join us girls for the afternoon and dinner?”
“Please, Darrell, don’t let me detain you boys.” The tone was overly indulgent but smoothed into a friendly chuckle as Candace Nelson turned her attention on Lucy Clark. “You know I’d love too. We should get to know one another. Only I have to be back in Amarillo by four, myself. This was a spur of the moment flight; my car will be returning shortly; maybe next time when I will plan on a longer stay.”
~~~
But there would be no return visit, at least not right away—Candace Nelson had decided before her plane landed at JFK. Her mind was made-up. She’d weighed all the possibilities, and had come to some conclusions. The Clarks would fight for the boy—no way could they be bought off as she had hoped. So it would end up her against them in a redneck court. She’d rather take her chances in New York where she had many acquaintances in the legal community. She had to bring the case to an Eastern Courtroom with a friendlier judge and to do that she would need to have the boy under New York jurisdiction.