Lydia
Lydia sat in her living room, twisting a cocktail napkin into shreds, watching the clock. Katrina and Alexandra and Alistair joined her, all grave and silent, as still in the house which was as quiet as Lydia had ever wanted it to be, in those early days when her husband was a workaholic and her children could never give her a moment's peace.
"He always stays out late," Alexandra figured. "I just guessed… "
Alistair laid a hand on Alexandra's, and Katrina glanced nervously to her mother.
"He'll be fine," Lydia nodded. "Although why your friends Leo and Hikari should be missing also; I cannot divine. What could cause Conrad to socialise with two such introverts?"
"Hikari's not an introvert, mom," Katrina began. "She just is a bit shy, a bit cowed from her mother."
"Well, in any case," Lydia inhaled. "Your father has the army scouring the town. Likely Conrad's just taken them to some dive bar in Bridgeport, and you know that city. So many buildings and lights. It'll take a while - "
Lydia choked back a sob at the first thought, and held firm.
Garrett
Garrett felt uneasy riding in the cockpit of his own helicopter, on the outskirts of Pleasantview where a lane wound. It descended, and he saw the spiral of smoke and smelled the fumes, and saw the Yomoshoto twisted around a streetlamp.
"It's not good sir," spoke the pilot, and Garrett stepped off, to where police cars and ambulances and fire engines were closely converging.
Garrett's coat billowed in the wind as he glimpsed nothing, and everything. Stretchers were pulled, and tape cordoned. The shuffle, quiescence of movement until there were bumps, and he saw his younger son's face, ashy and blinking.
"Good god," Garrett collapsed, and held his son's hand. "You! With your race cars! You've shaken me, my boy. I'll chauffeur you myself if I ever recover from the shock you've given me."
"He wasn't the driver, sir," spoke an army soldier, ill at ease with having been wrested off his duties for this. He saw enough action beyond shores. "He was found in the back seat."
"You're a daredevil," Garrett wanted to rattle his son. "You're a spark of life not yet snuffed out. Thank the gods!"
The stretcher was pulled to, and Garrett watched his son loaded into the ambulance.
"Where - where are the others? Where's my son's car?"
"They all drove in this one, I'm afraid," the police officer took off his cap. "Mayor, I'm sorry to say that your son was the only one who survived."
Lydia
Lydia shook as the car pulled up outside the skyscraper. She got out, and the servicemen were disconsolate and grieving, and she entered the elevator which was unmanned and pressed the penthouse button.
The ascent tripled her insides. She felt sick, and closed her eyes. She exhaled, and stepped out. In the little foyer, the door was ajar, and she pushed in.
The apartment was white and chic as she had seen it once before, but furniture was wrapped in boxes.
"Hello?" Lydia called.
She stepped into the office, and heard a flushing sound from the ensuite. Lydia held her chin up, her hands respectfully clasped, as Clara Kinneas emerged, her eyes red and wrapped in a kimono. Her scowl could cut audiences to shreds.
"Get out," Clara spat, and Lydia held firm. "Your son's caused the death of my daughter. I'll have him put behind bars, don't you worry."
"He - he wasn't the driver, Garrett said," Lydia wavered.
"Oh, bullshit," Clara sniffed, and sat behind her desk. A symbol of power, of the rein held over Pleasantview, was enough imagery for Lydia to take a seat.
"It's true," Lydia uttered. "The medical crew found him there. And - and Conrad says he offered to drive, and became irritated at the controls - he said a Yomoshoto was too middle class for him - and Leo took the controls instead. Your daughter was found in the front passenger."
"I know very well where she was found," Clara snapped. "Don't you dare lecture me. Don't you dare invade on my family's grief. You know nothing."
Lydia knew well she herself would have the same outrage had Conrad died in that accident. Yet she would not be shaken.
"I came to offer my condolences," Lydia held her chin up. "To you, and to your husband."
"Husband," Clara shook her head. "He is my husband no more. He left, thanks to you."
Lydia was growing infuriated.
"To me?" Lydia growled. "I did not separate your family. What on earth can this conduct become? Why should he leave you at such a time?"
"Because it's over," Clara cleared her throat. "He knew he loved me not, or no longer, and without Hikari he pulled the plug. I thought he stayed on for the money, at least. Even Maria's up sticks and left Max, but he was cheating from the beginning. That stupid harlot."
Lydia was vaguely aware that this family was disintegrating. But she could not triumph. Only a hollow in her stomach, a chance that had saved Conrad had been as unlikely a chance that had so enriched this family, and yet money could not recover their children.
"Well," Lydia rose. "If you ever need to talk. As a private citizen to another private citizen. As a mother, who knows how close it is to grieve the loss of a child."
Clara glanced up unblinkingly, and Lydia thought how horrid a childhood she must have had; to be so openly rebuking, to rebel against her mother, to wrap herself in all the cling wrap of money. She would have made a formidable First Lady to any husband.
"You know nothing about me," Clara spat.
"I know a little," Lydia heaved. "And my Katrina cared for Hikari. And I daresay cared for her more than anyone else who claimed to be her friend. I could not bear losing Katrina. And she has become a better person for knowing Hikari - kinder, sweeter. And I - I only wish we had become closer friends. I suspect much of the steel in your spine is shared by me."
Garrett
Garrett's chauffeur drove into the Landgraab's old house, and there Garrett got out and was met at the front door by the butler.
"You will forgive me sir," the butler dabbed his eyes. "Please, come this way."
Into the living room Garrett strode, and saw Phillipa Spencer, still in her dressing gown, and clutching a handkerchief.
"Mayor," she croaked, and glanced up with what she hoped was a smile.
"Forgive me," the mayor took her hand. "Forgive me and my family for putting you through this."
"Oh, mayor," Phillipa's grip was as limp as lettuce, and suddenly Garrett wanted to let go. "There is nothing you could have done. It is life. Fickle and free."
Garrett took back his hand when time allowed, and time pained Phillipa most. She glanced up at the tick of the grandfather clock and grimaced.
"He was a good boy," Phillipa sobbed, and buried in her handkerchief. "We gave him everything, and made sure not to make him idle or spoilt. My husband feared he would turn into a spendthrift. But Leo - h-he was always well merited. He is his father's son, the way his father feels he cannot be in some ways."
"I am sorry for your loss," Garrett cleared his throat, lest the emotion thicken him. He needed to be the man in this conversation, to direct as a politician would. He would be no use babbling.
"My husband, you understand, is out of town. He cannot cope," Phillipa blubbered. "In grief, my company will not do."
Phillipa shared a look, and Garrett understood.
"It has been that way before we met. And yet, I loved him. And he loved me. And when we had Leo, such was his desire to raise a child properly, and my own love for raising a child, that we could not separate. And we had to continue."
"That is a very brave and commendable approach," Garrett nodded.
"Of course, Maria has left poor Max. And Irvine has left Clara," Phillipa gestured with her handkerchief. "Only Grace and Johnny are truly in love. I pray they do not lose Kylie. But if life calls that roll of the dice, then they shall grow through it. Oh, I've been such a fool."
"Phillipa, please don't," Garrett shook his head. "I, and my family, grieve with you at this time."
Katrina
"You look so… well," Katrina sniffed, her arm on the rail of the hospital bed. "You'd like the way you look. You'd attract a girlfriend, or so you'd think."
Conrad laughed, and gripped his ribs. The nurse made adjustments and frowned.
"It wasn't his fault," Conrad stared soberly. "He was driving, and she was laughing, and I sensed between them a cordality. A friendship. Something denied her, at least, until you came along."
"Were you interested in her?" Katrina asked, and Conrad grimaced.
"Too nice. Beautiful, but too sweet. Voice like an angel," Conrad smirked.
"The school is having a remembrance. There is a statue proposed to be put up," Katrina fiddled with the cords on her sweatshirt. "She wanted to be free. Free like the wind."
Conrad coughed and sipped some water through a straw. "Well, I know once I'm better, her mother wants me put away."
"You can't," Katrina alerted. "You weren't even driving!"
"It's the Spencers," Conrad rolled his eyes. "And dad is only the mayor."
"I'm sick of hearing about them," Katrina stomped her foot. "I'm sick of it! Their money is nothing to them now. Gravity has taken its toll. And I for one, grieve with all of them. But it impresses me no longer. And I think mom and dad are the same."
"You don't think dad will quit?" Conrad tried to sit up, but failed.
"He's quite hardened," Katrina rebuked. "But mom is at a loss. She sees what can happen. Mrs Kinneas wasn't looking - and Hikari was lost to her. It's made mom think that she should be watching you and Alexandra more, and all of us. Time is essential, you know."
"I'll never get behind the wheel of a race car - or any car," Conrad's voice shook. "That night will be burned into my memory forever."
Garrett
Garrett stood in the church, as the bodies were laid to rest. The Spencers were in force, and Lydia stood by his side, as ever she had.
Adam walked over to the mayor after the service, and shook his hand.
"I appreciate what you did for my son," Adam said, with sober reflection, with eyes as blue as the sky. "And for my niece. Truly. You may call yourself a politician, but there is a beating heart under there. And for your family."
Garrett nodded, and walked with Adam outside into the sunlight. It pained them all, Garrett saw, pained the Spencers to glimpse movement and bright light and life.
"You will be aware," Adam spoke quietly. "Phillipa and I have separated."
Garrett saw, from afar a pair of eyes watching the two of them; an athletics instructor from some TV show his daughter used to watch.
"And Maria's taken Diablo, and Max I fear will get himself into drink or worse. And Clara will be going to Shang Simla to make a new life for herself… "
"And you?" Garrett asked. "Surely, the question is not unwarranted, if you will forgive my pardon. What will you do?"
Adam shrugged. "I have resigned from Business. I have only the old Landgraab property to keep clean. What will I do? Leo did all that I wanted for myself."
Garrett watched as Clara and Max shared a car, and Grace dabbed her eyes as Johnny held open the door into the limo. Lydia and their children watched nearby.
"My wife met your parents - well, your mother," Garrett cleared his throat.
"Yes. We only knew them briefly," Adam fiddled with his cufflinks, and ripped them out and dropped them on the pavement, his face torn with frustration. "I regret it. I wonder if things had gone another way."
Adam glimpsed to the sunshine, and Garrett nodded in studied silence.
"I will not be seeking another term," Garrett spoke. "I will be retiring, and moving to a smaller abode with my family. My wife and children need not be subject to the public any longer. But I will serve my term. That promise I give you."
"Oh, Garrett. You serve only the public, hardly me alone," Adam wept, and wiped his eyes. "At least I have Kyan. But a family. I took it for granted."
"You gave Leo everything," Garrett laid a hand on his shoulder. "And your sister protected Hikari as much as possible. It is not your fault."
"You're a good man to say it," Adam smiled. "A politician with integrity. Pleasantview needs you. At least you can rail one thing from the pulpit: that the skyscraper might be used for housing. You might mention in your speech how you swayed us. You might even name it after her and your legacy will be untarnished."
Garrett watched as Adam left by sedan, and his family drew to a close behind him, and their eyes went to the skyscraper, disconsolately stabbing for the sky, in the heavens where she now rested.
END