Vanished

“Perhaps I've changed.” He smiled evilly at her, but the tragedy for both of them was that he really hadn't. He still loved her, still longed for their child, wished she'd return, and that they could recapture a past long gone and never to be forgotten.

“Good-bye.” She looked at him sadly for a long moment, and smiled gently down at Teddy, as they walked away. “We're going home now.” There was nothing more to say to Charles and he was staring at them as they walked away, but this time he didn't ask her to call him. He was angry at her, angrier than he had ever been. She felt colder than ever as they walked back to the car, and Teddy said not a word until they reached it.

“I don't like him,” he said quietly, as the chauffeur closed the doors of the Pierce-Arrow. Patrick had followed them into the park, according to Malcolm's orders to him, to ensure their safety, and he had seen Charles again, but he had heard none of the conversation. He recognized him from the church, and he was ever more intrigued by what Marielle was up to. It was odd that she had taken the boy with her, but maybe she wanted the boy to meet him.

“He's not a bad man,” Marielle said sadly as they drove toward home. “He's very unhappy. We used to be very good friends.”

Teddy nodded, trying to understand it. And then he looked at her again, and asked a question she hadn't expected. “Who's Andre?” Her breath caught as he asked and she took a moment before she answered.

“Andre was his little boy. He died … a long time ago …and Charles has been very sad ever since then. That's what makes him act so crazy.” Teddy nodded then, as though now everything was clear to him. And then he looked up at his mother.

“Did you know Andre too?” She fought back tears as she nodded and held his hand tightly. She had wanted to tell him one day, but not like this, and not hiding behind the subterfuge she had to use now. But he was too young, and it was too soon. And she still had to try and answer his questions.

“I knew him too,” she said sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Was he nice?” That was always important to Teddy, and Marielle felt a sob lodge in her throat, begging to spring forward, but she wouldn't let it.

“He was very sweet …and very young when he died.” There were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks, and she wasn't sure what to say to Teddy. There was really nothing more to say to him. She just held him close to her, more grateful than ever that she had him. She was frightened too over what Charles had said to her. And she wondered if he meant it. Would he take the boy, to force her to come with him? It was unimaginable. She knew they were empty threats. He would never do anything to hurt Teddy. “I'm sorry we met him today I wanted to have a nice time with you at the boat pond.”

“That's okay.' He smiled up at her. “I always like to be with you.” He always said the thing that melted her heart, and made her love him.

“How about if we go to see Snow White tomorrow?” It was Sunday, and usually Malcolm liked to do paperwork at home, which left her at loose ends. And the best part was that Miss Griffin was off, and there would be no interference whatsoever. Teddy would be with Marielle all day, with Betty's help if she needed it, and Edith would baby-sit for him in the evening.

“Wow! Can we do that? Can we really see Snow Whiter

“We sure can. I'll arrange it.” He leapt out of die car when they got home and raced up the front steps as Haverford opened the door for them, and almost smiled as young Master Theodore exploded into the house as he entered.

And as he did so, he almost collided with his father. For a moment, Marielle wondered if he would tell Malcolm about Charles, but he was in too much of a hurry to get to lunch and get ready for the party, and he was much too excited about Snow White to even think about the odd man they had met in Central Park. Teddy was halfway to the third floor before Marielle even got her coat off.

“Where have you two been?” Malcolm asked conversationally. He had been to the office and back. He liked going in on Saturdays, and now he was going to his club for lunch with an old friend visiting from California. They were all rituals he enjoyed, and that were important to him.

“We went to the boat pond, but it was frozen.”

“It must have been awfully chilly,” he said, looking at her, and she nodded.

“You're going out?” she asked, wondering where he was going.

“Yes,” he gave her a businesslike kiss on the cheek, “but don't forget dinner at the Whytes' this evening.” They were giving a Christmas dance, and she was planning to wear a fabulous dress Malcolm had bought her from Madame Grès in Paris. It was all made of tiny, tiny folds of shimmering white satin, and she was going to wear it with diamonds at her throat and ears, silver shoes, and a floor-length ermine coat he'd given her for her birthday. It was quite an outfit.