Chapter 8
1985
Thursday morning arrived, and Peter was waiting in Mayor Fleming’s waiting room. He didn’t care if he appeared anxious. He just wanted to make sure he was on time. He yawned, watching secretaries enter the building. He’d managed to get only forty-five minutes of sleep all night.
The elevator doors opened, and Bill Torres walked out with Tim Ryan. “Peter, were you waiting long?” Bill asked.
“Just got here.”
“You remember Tim Ryan?”
“Of course.”
Peter and Tim shook hands and followed Bill into the conference room.
Peter laid his plans and presentation out on the table, fumbling as he watched Tim and Bill. Bill laughed out loud and patted Tim on the arm, strangely familiar for having met just a few days earlier.
“Are you ready, Peter?” Bill asked.
“Is Tim presenting, too?”
“Actually, I invited him to sit in on the meeting. I thought having another architect would be insightful. That is, if it’s okay with you.”
“No problem.”
“Whenever you’re ready then.”
Peter spoke for more than an hour. He asked Bill to compare Mayor Fleming’s plans with the original plans for the library site, and Bill and Tim watched closely as he measured the dimensions of the annex and discussed how much more space it used. Peter brought out a letter from the Zoning Adjustor verifying that his designs were, indeed, within the legal perimeters of the historical site.
“You’ll be hearing from our office, Peter,” Bill said when he was done. “But don’t get discouraged if the Committee votes against it. Historical Societies can be a bitch.”
“The Historical Society? I thought it was just the Mayor’s Committee.”
“Mayor Fleming’s office is required to include three people from the Historical Society to sit in with the Mayor and me to form a Committee for building projects like this. They can out-vote us, but it takes all three. They frequently disagree with each other.” Bill shook Peter’s hand. “Before I forget, do you have your Statement of Intent?”
“Sure.” Peter looked through his folders and pulled out a thick legal-size envelope.
Bill felt it and smiled. “We will be in touch, Peter.”
Tim waited until Bill left before he approached Peter. “That was easy.”
Peter laughed. “Thanks for coming, Tim. I appreciate it, even though you’re up for the same job.”
“I’m a professional, as I see you are, and I want to support my fellow adversary. Seriously, Peter, good work in there. I wish you well.”
“In general, or with this project?”
“Okay, maybe not with that so much.” Tim winked.
Peter carried his paper cup of coffee across the sidewalk toward the entrance to the Wentworth Building where Jake waited.
“What happened to Rob Lowe?” Peter nodded at Jake’s new haircut.
“Turns out Amanda’s more into Miami Vice. Sonny doesn’t have a mullet.”
Peter laughed. “Jake, I’m sorry I was a jerk about it.”
“Don’t worry. I never take anything you say seriously. How did it go this morning at the Mayor’s office?”
Peter led Jake inside and into an empty elevator. “I honestly don’t know.” He reached around Jake and pushed the elevator button. “Bill Torres told me not to get discouraged if the Historical Society votes against me.”
“Bummer.”
“I know. Right? So I’m going to prepare myself for the worst. I don’t want to think about it.” Peter was concentrating on the luminous numbers over the elevator door.
“How did the engagement party go?”
“Good. I spoke to Mr. Grant.” Peter nodded.
“Grant?” Jake braced himself on the rails that ran around the elevator. “Old Ernie G from the corner of Pine street?”
“The very one. After a few questions he divulged quite a bit.” Peter glanced at Jake. “I found out where Maddy lives.”
Jake dropped from the rails. “You’re joking me.”
“At least Maddy’s parents. But he said Maddy isn’t far from them. Colorado.”
“So you’re at your engagement party finding out about Maddy?” Jake said. “You’re out of your ever-lovin’ mind! Why Colorado?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say anything else, other than after all these years they still exchange Christmas cards.” Peter smiled at his secretary as the elevator doors slid open and they crossed the lobby toward his glass-walled office.
“You didn’t find out what she’s doing there?”
“Bits and pieces.” Peter shook his head. “She’s living not too far from her parents, teaching in some elite school of some kind. Her sister’s married and has children, but he didn’t say anything more about Maddy.”
“Don’t you think if she had a child he would have said something?”
Peter closed his office door after Jake and turned to him. “I don’t know but—” Peter froze. “What did you just say?”
“Don’t you think he would have said something?”
“No.” Peter stared at Jake. “You said, ‘if Madeline had a child.’”
“And your point is?” Jake leaned against the corner of the desk and swung his foot, rattling a pen against the desktop.
“Jake, you just set my head spinning. What if Maddy has a child?”
“I don’t get it.”
“What if Maddy was pregnant when she left, with my baby?”
Jake swallowed and set down the pen. He looked up.
“Jake, this could be it. Maddy could have been pregnant. I don’t know why I never thought of that before.” Peter paced the room, running his hand through his hair.
“But she was nineteen or twenty, wasn’t she? She wasn’t a teenager. She wouldn’t need to hide it.”
“It was 1965, and her parents were very prominent in our little Chatham world. Her father was incredibly protective of both her and Kate. Damn it, Jake! I can’t believe this is all coming to me now. It’s as if I’m remembering some half-forgotten dream I’m trying to decipher.”
Jake sighed. “I’m going to hate myself for asking this, but what are you going to do with this information?”
Peter stopped in front of Jake and looked at him. “Remember last week when I told you I met some media people at the Mayor’s office? Well one of them told me she could probably find out some information for me?”
“Of course, it would be a woman. You hound dog.”
Peter brushed this off. “I’m going to give her a call. It should be easier now that I know what state Maddy lives in and her profession.”
Peter pulled a legal pad across his desk and dialed a number. Jake signaled that he was going for coffee in the lobby, and Peter nodded, intent on the telephone. When Jake came back Peter was still sitting but no longer on the phone. He stared at Jake, his eyes wide.
“Let me guess?” Jake stopped walking with the paper coffee cups in his hands.
“She located three Marsdens, only one teaching. She gave me the name of the school and the address: St. Bartholomew’s School in Denver, fifth grade. I know where she is, Jake. I found Maddy.”
Jake sat next to Peter and took a deep breath. He sipped his coffee, then glanced up at Peter, who was still staring at the phone. Jake smiled and patted his arm. “Congratulations, buddy!”
Peter poured his coffee down his throat and looked into Jake’s cup as well. He paused to swallow. “Let me ask you something, Jake. Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you were adamant about Tara’s feelings.”
“I still am, but I also know how your brain ticks. Just because I say something you’re not necessarily going to listen to me. I mean, like—never. I can see this isn’t over. So I can do one of two things: I can either leave you alone and let you screw up your life, or I can help you screw it up and save us both a lot of time.”
Peter sat quietly for a moment. “You’re a good friend, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Jake. “But whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it fast. Did you forget you’re getting married in three weeks?”
Peter stood suddenly and slapped Jake on the shoulder. “Shit!”