Mind Games

Lucy braced herself, stared at the phone for a full minute before she made herself pick it up. She dialed the number, then sat at the kitchen table.

“Fox residence.”

“Yes, hello. I’d like to speak with Mrs. Fox.”

“Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Fox are accepting calls this morning. If you’d like to leave your name and number, they’ll return your call when it’s convenient.”

“This is Lucy Lannigan. I’m Cora’s mother. I want them to know the children, Thea and Rem, are with me, and to extend my sympathies for our mutual loss.”

“One moment, please.”

They had holding music, like their home was a business. She found that a wonder as she rubbed at her temple and the nagging headache.

“This is Christine Fox.”

The voice brought the image of the woman. Tall, stately, and as cold as a January storm.

“I’ll speak to Althea and Remington.”

“They’re sleeping. If I could have them call you a little later.”

“Sleeping? Isn’t it past noon where you are?”

“They’ve had a very difficult morning. We all have. I can’t begin to tell you how dear John was to me. Christine, we’ve lost our children, and I can’t—”

“Why are Althea and Remington with you in—it’s Kentucky, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and they were here on their summer visit. I can only thank God they weren’t in the house when—”

“We’ll arrange for them to be flown out to San Diego, along with their father’s remains. I’m sure you understand,” Christine continued in a voice clipped and final. “The memorial service will be very private.”

Not one word, not one of sympathy. Not one thought of Cora.

Well then, Lucy thought, you’re about to get back some of your own.

“You’re not going to do any of those things.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can beg for it, but you won’t get it. You won’t separate John and Cora in death any more than you could in life. They loved each other and their children enough to make me their legal guardian. The children stay with me, and because the children want it, John and Cora will be buried here, together.”

Silence held, and Lucy used it to stop herself from raging out as Rem had by the chicken coop.

“You expect to raise Althea and Remington alone, on some backwater, hillbilly farm?”

“I do, and I will. That’s what John and Cora wanted. It’s what the children want.”

“I won’t allow it, and have no doubt the courts will agree with me. We can provide them with an excellent education in a respected boarding school while you’ll toss them into some ramshackle public schoolhouse. We’ll see they’re raised properly.”

“What color are Rem’s eyes? What’s Thea do every night before going to sleep?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“It’s as relevant as it gets.” She’d pushed up to pace without being aware of it. “You want to put these kids through a custody battle after their parents were murdered in their own bed? You want to go against their dead parents’ wishes so you can put them in some damn boarding school?

“You want to fight me on this? Bless your heart, you bring it on, because for them, I’ll fight dirty. I’ll start by calling the papers and the TV stations out there in California, and telling them how the people who live so high and mighty sent their granddaughter twelve dollars for her birthday while they bought a horse for one of their other grandchildren.”

“It’s none of your business what we—”