-1Chapter Nineteen
Five years later…
Pouring himself another cup of coffee, Michael sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for more than twenty minutes at a time and his diet consisted of leftover pizza and whatever else he happened to find lying around the kitchen on the rare occasions when he would leave the study. His father had warned him that law school wouldn't be a walk in the park, but Michael had no idea that it would completely take over his life. And now that he was scheduled to take his bar exam tomorrow, Michael was desperately trying to remember everything he'd learned over the past five years. If he passed his exam tomorrow, at twenty four years old, he would be one of the youngest students in his school to pass the bar.
It had only taken him two years to earn his undergraduate degree in political science and he breezed through law school, successfully completing his program a year early by taking night and summer classes. Lowell was completely supportive of his son's academic career, taking pride in his accomplishments and financing his costly tuition fees. Their relationship was still rather strained and Lowell was constantly going out of town for weeks at a time on business, but for the most part, things were good.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Michael plopped back down in front of his cluttered desk and flipped through a warn textbook on Contract Law. Highlighter in hand, he went to work memorizing anything and everything he suspected may appear on his exam the next day.
"Mr. Baldwin?" The familiar voice called out tentatively from somewhere behind him. Michael sighed in annoyance, removing his wire-rimmed glasses and placing them down on the desk.
"Yes, Rupert?"
"Sorry to disturb you," the older man apologized, slowly pushing open the heavy oak door and entering the room. "But there's a young lady here to see you."
"If it's Rachel, tell her I'm busy." Michael instructed the butler, turning his attention back to the page he had been reading.
"It's not Rachel." Rupert declared and something in his tone of voice made Michael turn around. He looked at the older man quizzically, urging him to continue. "She said it was imperative that she speak with you immediately."
"Where is she?" Michael sighed, standing up from his seat and book marking the page he was reviewing to return to it later.
"In the main living room, sir." Rupert replied, a small smile playing across his lips. Michael rolled his eyes at the older man's knowing look as he walked passed him and left the room to go and meet his mystery guest.
"This better be good."
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She was looking out the window when he entered the room, her back turned to him, obscuring her face. Michael took a moment to admire her figure, shapely legs encased in a pair of cream colored stockings that disappeared under her pale pink skirt that was just a tad too short, or not short enough. The matching blazer she wore clung to her slender waist as though the suit had been tailor made to fit her perfect frame. Her bleach blonde hair fell over her shoulders in carefree waves and Michael felt a familiar stirring in his pants. Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he cleared his throat to get her attention.
"You wanted to see me, Miss…?" Michael's breath caught in his throat when she turned around and he came face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
"Hello, Michael." she said softly, offering him a nervous smile that warmed his heart in a way it hadn't been in five long, lonely years.
"Lauren." he breathed, eyes wide with astonishment as he closed the distance between them in three quick strides. He had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, to reassure himself that she was really there and not just a figment of his sleep deprived imagination.
"I'm sorry to drop by unannounced like this, but…"
"Lauren." he said again, louder this time. More confident.
"Yes?" she replied, looking up at him warily. He reached out to touch her face, but she took a step back, moving out of his reach. It was like a slap in the face, which he supposed was what he deserved after everything he'd put her through.
"I'm sorry." he apologized, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. She nodded, her gaze darting away from his as she moved passed him to sit on the edge of the couch.
"How have you been?" she asked and he had to smile at her lame attempt at making small talk.
"Good." he lied, because the truth would hurt too much. "Busy." he continued when she didn't respond. "School's been really hectic."
"I can imagine." she nodded, still not looking at him.
"How about you?" Michael asked, trying to keep the conversation going because the silence was deafening and unbearable. "Still living in the big apple?"
"No, I'm uh…I'm back home now." Lauren replied, growing agitated and crossing her legs defensively before changing the subject. "How's Kevin? Is he here?"
"No, he's still at school." Michael explained casually, smiling with pride. "He's doing really well. Even has a girlfriend if you can believe that."
"I guess he's gotten over his fear of cooties then." Lauren said teasingly, shaking her head in amusement.
"Oh yeah, he's a regular ladies man." Michael chuckled.
"Just like his big brother." Lauren grinned, her smile fading when she realized she was being presumptuous.
"Hardly." Michael said quietly, his gaze falling to the floor as an uncomfortable silence settled over them both.
"And your father?" Lauren said finally, her voice hoarse. "How are things with him?"
"Better," Michael replied, looking up to meet her gaze once more ."He's been great with Kevin and the three of us get along pretty well. He's always away on business though, you know how it is."
"Yeah." she replied softly, staring at her hands as they lay folded tightly in her lap.
"How's Neil?" Michael asked casually. "I bet he's happy to have you back home again." Lauren's breath hitched in response and Michael was caught off guard by the tears he saw in her eyes. She buried her face in her hands, shoulders quivering as sobs wracked through her body.
"Lauren?" he called out worriedly, moving to sit beside her on the couch. "Lauren, what is it? Did I say something wrong?"
"No." she whispered, her voice muffled by her hands. Michael tentatively placed a hand on her back, encouraged when she didn't flinch or pull away.
"What's wrong?" he repeated, waiting for her tears to subside. "Is it your father? Did something happen?"
"He's dead, Michael." Lauren managed to choke out, looking up at him through bloodshot eyes. "My father is dead."
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She didn't protest when he drew her into his arms and held her close. It was the first time she'd said the words out loud since her father's passing two weeks earlier. She still couldn't believe he was really gone. Lauren had never felt so lost and alone in her entire life, but being with Michael again, feeling his strong arms tighten around her protectively, she felt like she was finally home.
"I am so sorry, Lauren." he said compassionately, stroking her back as his warm breath tickled her skin. "If I had known, I would have…"
"It's okay." she interrupted him, abruptly pulling away. Lauren knew what he was going to say and she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear that he would have come back for that. Didn't want to hear that her father's death would have been enough to bring him back to her.
"What happened?" Michael asked, leaning back against the couch cushions to give her some space.
"It was his heart," Lauren sighed, her breath hitching as she reached up to wipe away a few stray tears. "He never really fully recovered from that first attack and when the second one hit last year…" Her voice trailed off as she broke down in tears once more.
"Lauren?" Michael said gently, urging her to continue. She could tell he wanted to touch her again, could feel the heat from his hand as it hovered above her shoulder. But he didn't move, and she was grateful.
"He went in for triple by-pass surgery two weeks ago," Lauren explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "He didn't make it through the operation."
"Oh, sweetie…" he cooed, moving to wrap her in his arms once more.
"Don't." she blurted out sharply, pushing his hands off her shoulders as she stood up abruptly and turned her back to him.
"Sorry." he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He stayed seated on the couch as she paced the room, eyes darting towards the front door as if trying to find the quickest escape route should he try and touch her again.
"I don't know why I'm here." Lauren admitted, still not looking at him as she stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips.
"I think you do." he argued confidently, getting up from the couch and moving to stand directly in front of her so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
"Don't flatter yourself, Michael." she snarled angrily, rolling her eyes at his audacity. "I got over you a long time ago."
"And yet here you are." Michael pointed out, smiling at her knowingly.
"Asshole." she hissed and if looks could kill, he'd be a dead man. Grabbing her purse off the couch , Lauren began marching towards the front door.
"Lauren, wait!" he called out desperately as he reached out and grabbed her by the arm to prevent her from leaving. She whipped around, glaring at him in contempt.
"I'm sorry..."
"Stop apologizing!" she screamed demandingly, pulling her arm out of his grip. He closed his eyes in regret and some of her anger subsided when she saw how utterly defeated he looked. "Just stop." she pleaded, her voice losing some of its edge.
"You may not know why you're here," Michael said quietly after a few moments of tense silence, slowly opening his tear filled eyes to gaze at her compassionately. "But I'm glad you are."
"I need a lawyer." she blurted out, suddenly remembering part of the reason why she had sought him out after all these years.
"What?" he asked in confusion, motioning for her to sit back down on the couch. "Why?"
"My father left everything to me in his will." Lauren explained, her voice completely void of emotion as she gingerly sat back down, clutching her purse in one hand and her keys in the other. "His company, the house, all of it."
"Understandably. You are his only child." Michael nodded, sitting down in one of the antique wing chairs that framed the room's large oak fireplace. Lauren sighed in relief, needing to put a little distance between them. She hadn't expected her treacherous body to respond to his nearness so immediately, as though they'd only been apart for five minutes rather than five years.
"So, you need someone to handle the distribution of your father's estate?" Michael asked curiously, interrupting her wayward thoughts.
"Not quite." Lauren replied, nervously tucking a strand of newly colored hair behind her ear. "Fenmore's board of directors are opposing my father's decision to appoint me CEO of the company." she explained, sighing warily as she thought about the legal battle ahead of her. "They don't think I'm qualified."
"Well your father obviously thought you were, and I happen to agree with him." Michael replied confidently, his faith in her unwavering. She felt her heart swell at his words, then quickly reminded herself that he had broken her heart just as easily as he was now trying to mend it. She wouldn't fall for his lies again.
"Thanks." Lauren muttered in response, her gaze focused on some point passed his shoulder. "So, will you help me?"
"Me?" he said incredulously, eyes growing wide with astonishment. "Lauren I…"
"Yes or no, Michael." she interrupted him sharply, eager to wrap things up so that she could leave and go back to hating his guts, something she was finding it almost impossible to do while in his presence.
"I'm not licensed to practice law yet." Michael explained regretfully, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration..
"Well, when will you be?" Lauren asked impatiently..
"Tomorrow if I pass the bar exam." he replied, glancing up at her warily. "But Lauren…"
"What?" she bit out sharply, glaring at him in accusation. "You don't want to represent me?"
"It's not that, I'm just…" he sighed, gazing at her apprehensively from across the room. "I'm just not sure you should trust someone as inexperienced as me to handle your case." Michael reasoned. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if I lost."
"Then don't lose." she replied nonchalantly.
"Lauren…"
"Please, Michael." she cut him off, eyes pleading with him to concede. "You're the only one I trust with this." He glanced up at her then, a look of hope crossing his face.
"Why?" he asked in bewilderment, his voice barely above a whisper. When you love someone so completely, it's almost impossible to stop. No matter how badly they may hurt you. Her father's words invaded her consciousness and she shivered at the memory. Neil may have been foolish enough to love Joanna unconditionally, but Lauren was determined not to make the same mistake.
"Your career was obviously more important to you than our relationship, and this is a high profile case, one that will give you an opportunity to carve out a reputation for yourself as a successful attorney." Lauren declared rationally, her voice cold and emotionless. "You're ruthless, Michael. And I know you'll do whatever it takes to win."
"You really think that's why I did it?" he whispered incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really think that's why I left?"
"I don't particularly care at this point in time, Michael." Lauren replied nonchalantly. "The only thing that matters to me now is gaining control of my company so that I can honor my father's wishes." she could tell by the pained expression on his face that he was hurting, but she didn't care. For five long years she'd mourned the death of their love. His pain was nothing compared to the constant ache in her heart that she was forced to live with day after day, an ache that he had caused the day he selfishly decided to cut her out of his life for good. He had no idea what real pain was.
"So are you gonna help me or not?" Lauren asked impatiently when his silence finally became unbearable. Michael rubbed a hand over his eyes, wiping away the moisture there. She was about to repeat the question, when finally he spoke.
"Okay, I'll do it." Michael agreed, his voice hoarse with unshed tears and she almost broke when she saw the look of hopelessness on his face. "I'll be your lawyer."
"Good." she nodded with finality, anxious to leave now that she had gotten her desired response from him. "I'll have the details of the case faxed to you over the next few days and we'll discuss your fee at a later date."
"Lauren…" he called out to her pleadingly, but she ignored him. Standing up from the couch, she briskly made her way towards the front door.
"I need to get going, so just…"
"Lauren, please don't leave like this." Michael whispered fiercely, getting up from his seat and moving to stand between her and the door, effectively blocking her exit. "Stay for dinner."
"I can't." Lauren replied dismissively, staring at his chest because she couldn't bare to meet his gaze.
"Why not?" Michael asked insistently.
"I have plans." she lied.
"Cancel them." he reasoned, determined to get her to stay. She looked up at him then, her expression cold and unforgiving.
"No." Lauren said defensively, flinging her purse over her shoulder and glaring at him impatiently. "You need to study for your exam tomorrow. I'd just be in the way." She could tell he was about to protest, but something in her expression must have warned him against it.
"How long will you be in town for?" he asked, visibly deflating.
"I'm leaving for Genoa City tomorrow morning." she informed him casually. "Actually, I might try and fly out tonight if I can catch the red eye."
"I wish you wouldn't…" he began to say, his voice trailing off as he sighed in frustration. "Will I see you again before you leave?"
"I don't know." Lauren said quietly, her eyes darting away from his uncomfortably. "Maybe."
"Well, I'll be here." he declared, offering her a warm smile as he reluctantly moved out of the way so that she could leave. Lauren's gaze locked with his and for the first time she noticed his eyes, really noticed them. Even though there were a few more lines on his face and his hairline was slowly beginning to recede, his eyes were still the same vibrant brown that they had been when they first met. Lauren's throat tightened with emotion and she looked away.
"Goodbye, Michael." she whispered, quickly stepping passed him and walking out the door.
"See you soon." he called out after her defiantly, resurrecting their 'no goodbyes' pact. You're five years too late Michael, Lauren thought to herself bitterly. But when she looked over her shoulder and saw the hopeful smile plastered on his gorgeous face, she found herself unconsciously smiling back.
When you love someone so completely, it's almost impossible to stop.
Lauren continued down the walkway, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Maybe she wasn't so unlike her father afterall.
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"Mrs. Everett?" Lauren called out tentatively as she knocked on the door of the small cottage. After her conversation with Michael, Lauren got in her rental car and drove around aimlessly for a few hours, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the city she had spent so much of her childhood in. Eventually, she ended up back at her family's cottage, but she just couldn't bring herself to go inside. Not yet. Not when even just the thought of being surrounded by her father's things caused tears to spring to her eyes.
And so that's how she had found herself standing on her elderly neighbor's porch at six o'clock in the evening, frantically knocking on the worn oak door and getting nothing but silence in response.
"Mrs. Everett? It's me, Lauren." she announced, ringing the doorbell this time. Still there was no answer. Brow furrowed in concern, Lauren quietly entered the small home. The door wasn't locked, it never was. Walking through the dimly lit hallway, she heard the sound of voices coming from somewhere to her right. Stepping through the beaded curtain into the cluttered living room, Lauren discovered that the television had been left on, the voices she had heard earlier belonging to Archie and Edith Bunker. Switching off the tv, Lauren surveyed the room. A tray table sat in front of the couch with a bowl of rapidly cooling soup on its even surface. It was unlike the older woman to leave the room in such a mess, for as long as Lauren had known her she'd always kept her home in immaculate condition.
Lauren couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
"Mrs. Everett?" she called out again, making her way towards the kitchen when she heard the sound of water running in the distance. Picking up her pace, Lauren walked briskly through the empty dining room as the sound grew louder, more insistent. And when she rounded the corner and entered the brightly lit kitchen, she gasped at what she saw.
"Oh my God," Lauren screamed, dropping to her knees beside the pale and lifeless body of her former nanny. Mrs. Everett lay motionless on the linoleum floor, a pool of soapy water surrounding her from the rapidly overflowing sink. Lauren reached out and cupped the older woman's face in her hands, her skin felt cold and clammy. Lauren shuddered.
"Mrs. Everett?" she whispered pleadingly, tears spilling down her face as she looked down into the lifeless eyes of the kindhearted woman who had meant so much to her. "Please wake up. Please." But she was already gone, her heart having ceased its beating long before Lauren stopped by to say hello.
And now she'd never get the chance to say goodbye.
Using the sleeve of her blazer to wipe away the tears in her eyes, Lauren stood up slowly and leaned forward to turn off the faucet. Then, as if in a daze, she carefully stepped over the body and reached for the phone.
"911. What is your emergency?"
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High blood sugar. That was the unofficial cause of death according to the ME's initial assessment of the body. Apparently, Mrs. Everett had diabetes. Type A diabetes to be exact, a condition that required her to inject herself daily with measured doses of insulin - something she had apparently forgotten to do that day. The lack of medication coupled with her high sugar intake had resulted in a diabetic seizure that claimed her life. She likely would have survived if she'd gotten to the hospital in time. If she hadn't been alone. If Lauren had gotten there just a few minutes earlier…
"Are you related to the deceased?" The inquisitive voice of a young police officer interrupted her thoughts. Lauren turned to meet his curious gaze, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively.
"Uh, no. She is…" Past tense, Lauren reminded herself mournfully. Just like your father. Just like everything. "She was an old friend of mine."
"Do you happen to know if she has any family in the area?" he asked, offering her a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We need to contact her next of kin."
"The only family she ever mentioned was her husband, John Everett. But he passed away years ago." Lauren explained, her voice catching in her throat as she caught a glimpse of the coroner placing Mrs. Everett into a body bag. "Look, can we do this later? I'm just…"
"Of course" The officer said compassionately, reaching into his pocket and handing her a business card. "Call me if you think of anything else. Or even if you just need someone to talk to."
"Thanks." Lauren nodded, offering him a weak smile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that they were preparing to load the body onto a stretcher and wave of nausea hit her unexpectedly. She had to get out of there.
"Excuse me." Lauren whispered as she brushed passed the officer and ran into the nearest empty room, slamming the door closed behind her.
It was dark in the room, but Lauren could make out a large queen sized bed directly in front of her. Sighing, she collapsed on top of the mattress. The sheets still smelled of Mrs. Everett's perfume and Lauren took comfort in the familiar scent, burying her face in the pillow she was now clutching tightly to her chest. She could hear the police and paramedics moving around outside the bedroom door and she covered her ears to block out the sound. The tears came then, spilling down her face in an endless stream and soaking into the warn pillow case beneath her head. She cried for Mrs. Everett, she cried for her father. She cried because it was the only thing she had the strength left to do.
Closing her eyes, Lauren tried to conjure up memories of the benevolent older woman who had been more of a mother to her than Joanna ever was. Their trips to Lafreniere Park were some of Lauren's fondest memories from her childhood. She remembered one day in particular when she had ruined her ivory colored church dress while carelessly jumping into the murky water in search of her most prized possession…
"What's that you've got in your hand, dear?" Mrs. Everett asked in amusement when she found the little girl seated Indian style underneath a large oak tree beside the pond.
"A toad." Lauren replied, grinning up at her triumphantly. "I've been trying to catch one all day and I finally got one."
"Well, now that you have him, what are you going to do with him?" The older woman asked curiously, sitting down on the ground directly behind her.
"I dunno," Lauren shrugged, moving closer to her nanny so that she could reach her head. "Nothin' I guess."
"I thought maybe you wanted to give him a kiss." Mrs. Everett suggested, untying Lauren's loose ponytail and parting the long strands of auburn hair with her finger tips.
"Why would I want to kiss a toad?" Lauren said incredulously, giggling as if it were the most absurd thing she had ever heard.
"To see if he'd turn into a prince of course." Mrs. Everett replied nonchalantly, her hands deftly twisting the little girl's hair into a long French braid. "Isn't that what every princess wants? To marry a prince?"
"Not me," Lauren replied, scrunching her nose up in disgust. She'd rather kiss a toad than marry a boring old prince. "I don't want him to turn into a prince. I think he's cute just the way he is."
"Princess Lauren and the Toad," Mrs. Everett said wistfully, tying a rubber band around the end of the braid to keep it from unwinding. "Doesn't sound like a very conventional fairytale to me."
"I like it." Lauren smiled, slowly opening the palm of her hand to take a peek at the small creature she was still holding onto protectively.
"Me too." Mrs. Everett agreed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as the two of them watched the toad leap from Lauren's open palm and disappear into the tall blades of grass that surrounded them.
She had spent the rest of the afternoon trying to catch another toad, but to no avail. She realized now that she never should have let him go in the first place.
Lauren gingerly sat up in bed, her tears having subsided for the time being. It was eerily quiet in the house now and she surmised that the emergency crews must have left. Running her fingers through her hair to try and return it to some semblance of order, she stood up from the bed and was preparing to leave when something on the nightstand caught her attention.
It was a diary.
Lauren knew she shouldn't read it. She had no right to read it. But then she remembered that the police needed to locate her next of kin to inform them of her passing and perhaps Mrs. Everett had written something in her diary about her family that Lauren could pass along to the authorities. So with that rationale in mind, Lauren picked up the warn leather notebook and flipped it open to the first page.
She was immediately puzzled by the name that was written underneath the heading 'This Diary Belongs To:'.
"Florence Baldwin-Everett?" Lauren read out loud, her voice catching on the familiar surname. Surely it was just a coincidence. But as Lauren scanned through the rest of the pages, she read detailed accounts of a young girl who got pregnant out of wedlock and was disowned by her father. She absorbed the tale of a young single mother whose only son had left home at the age of eighteen to go and live up north in Detroit, the same son she hadn't heard from again until decades later when she had tracked him down and offered him her late father's fortune that she had no desire to obtain.
"Oh my God." Lauren gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. If the stories she was reading were true, then that would mean that her childhood nanny, Florence Baldwin-Everett was the daughter of William Baldwin and the mother of Lowell Baldwin.
She was also Michael's grandmother.
Too stunned to even speak, Lauren threw the diary into her purse and headed out the door.
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