Phoenix
Chapter 3
When Paul came to the Los Angeles Chronicle looking for information about Peggy Smith's family, he not only learned that Margaret and Clark Lawson were the girl's parents, but also uncovered records indicating her maternal grandfather was Magnate Courtney Jeffers. What really caught his attention were the details surrounding Peggy Smith's birth. Not only born on the same day as the daughter of his best friends, she had also been born in the same hospital and nearly the same moment.
What are the chances? he asked himself, How did this escape my notice all these years? Damn it! I can't call myself the best detective in the world if I don't get to the bottom of this business.
The very day his best friends lost their baby. Paul felt his insides clench and his detective's nose was out of joint. He didn't need Perry to assign him to the investigation. Not this time.
How could a supposedly healthy baby die for no reason? That day, nine years ago, he had wondered, and then wondered why Perry wasn't pursuing it. When he questioned Perry, his friend told him Della had begged him not to do anything, to leave it. He explained that an investigation would only cause her more pain. But the suspicions remained.
Perry had grieved in his own way, Della in hers, and Paul had grieved, too. There was just nothing he could do—not back nine years ago—that would change anything. It no longer mattered how it had happened because nothing could restore their baby to them. It was for that reason Paul had tabled his doubts at the time. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful one to suffer more than she already was.
And then, Peggy Smith entered the office of Perry Mason, Attorney-at-Law. And with her had come all the old doubts and suspicions. Added to the information he now possessed, there was something else tickling the back of his mind. Peggy's physical appearance and mannerisms reminded him of something. He just couldn't quite put a finger on it. Closing his eyes, he pictured how she had looked when he saw her come toward him for the first time. Then his eyes flew open and he snapped.
I have it! The way she walks reminds me of . . . the first time I saw Della walk into Perry's office. She was so—so Beautiful! Like an angel, a wonderful, radiant, unearthly angel. And Peggy, although still a little girl, moves the same way, tilts her head the same way, and stands the same way.
Leaving the Los Angeles Chronicle offices, Paul went to the parking lot. He reached his car, leaned against the hood, and searched in his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Shaking one out, he took his time lighting it. As he smoked, he looked at the skyline, processing the details and their implications. They were enough to trouble him. Then he dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it out.
"Beautiful, Perry—you don't know how much I hope my suspicions are true."
XXXX XXXX XXXX
Perry, home from Europe and armed with Paul's information, was furious after talking to Courtney Jeffers. His brows furrowed and his mouth drooped down at the corners. Disgusted, he couldn't understand how that stubborn old man (really, how anyone) had been able to deny his own flesh and blood. Leaving the parking garage at the Brent Building, he took the elevator to the nineth floor. As he waited he mused on how lucky the man was to have a piece of his daughter back with him.
At least Jeffers was given the joy of having his granddaughter by his side. How much would I have given for the chance . . . For Della and me to have our baby back, even for a few more seconds! I would have given what was left of my life if only . . . .
The elevator operator announced the floor, shattering his reflections. When Perry got to the office, he went through the reception area and into Della's private space. Then his heart squeezed and he smiled wistfully as he saw her standing behind Peggy at her desk explaining how to use the typewriter. The two of them, unaware of his presence, were the spitting image of each other. In that moment he allowed himself to dream of Peggy as their little girl, their daughter. Della, the ideal partner, wife and now at last, mother, lovingly taught her child part of her work.
A wave of insufferable sadness and grief washed over him, flooding his senses and eroding his self-control. Tears brimmed and silently spilled over, running down his cheeks.
Is this what it would have been like? Would my little princess have come into the office, watched us work? Would she want to be like her mother, in a position of power, or like me, a lawyer submissive to the whims of his clients? He clenched his hands, then relaxed them. Realizing he was crying, he quickly wiped away the tears. Although I could care less what career she would have chosen, as long as she had the privilege of growing up. Showgirl, astronaut in orbit, attorney or teacher. It would have made no difference to me. All I wanted—all I still want—is for our little girl to be healthy, loved and . . . alive.
Clearing his throat, he greeted them. "Good afternoon, you beautiful ladies! I see you're enjoying each other's company." He smiled at both of them, his dimples flashing. Della grinned back, and he could see the flush of happiness in her face. He winked at her, then grinned playfully at his client.
The sweet girl giggled. "Of course! Mr. Mason, I really enjoy being with Della." Then she flashed her own smile, somewhat toothless and entirely charming.
"That sounds fine." Perry answered, moving to stand beside Della. He unconsciously stroked his wife's arm, second nature to them both. She looked up at him, the sheer love and pride and devotion in her hazel eyes.
"How did it go?" she asked in a lowered voice.
He longed to hide the truth of the ugly scene from her, but he couldn't. Instead he sighed, which told his wife all she needed to know.
Peggy lifted her head and looked back over her shoulder at the two adults. "Mr. Mason?"
"Well, Miss Peggy, what do you think if I invite you and Miss Street to lunch before I take you back to boarding school?"
The toothless smile was back. "I would think it was the most marvelous idea!" Then leaning toward him to convey a secret, unmindful of her voice carrying to Della, she added, "Mr. Mason, Della likes you."
He cut his eyes over to the lady in question, saw her blush, then looked at Peggy again. "Let's keep that our little secret."
After arriving at Clay's, the three sat in the usual Mason-Drake booth. A waitress handed them the menu. After reading it carefully, the girl ordered a steak with potatoes as did Perry and Della. When they heard Peggy ask, the couple exchanged surprised, bemused looks.
To ease the moment and to not make her self-conscious, Perry teased, "Miss Smith! What a big appetite you have!"
She giggled again, and for the first time he was struck by how her giggle sounded so similar to Della's. "The better to eat with, sir!"
He dimpled, his blue eyes twinkling in unabashed delight. "I can see the three of us share the same taste in food."
"I really like steak," she confessed, "It's one of my favorite dishes. Too bad I can't eat it all the time at boarding school."
"Well… When you feel like eating a juicy steak, you just need to call us," Della told her, "If we aren't busy, it will be our pleasure to invite you to lunch."
"Really?" Peggy's eyes widened in surprise as she looked between Della and Perry.
"Of course," Della replied, smiling at the little girl. "I can assure you that Mr. Mason is a fan of girls with good appetites. Isn't that right, Chief?"
His heart swelled. As much as he enjoyed sharing a meal with his young client, he was even happier to be spending quality time with the woman he adored.
"As usual, you're correct, Miss Street! Feeding you in particular is a necessary evil. I never want to deal with a grumpy secretary. Ouch!" Perry rubbed the arm Della swatted.
Peggy hooted with laughter. Seeing her laugh like that reinforced the impression that she was molded from the same cast as Della.
Later, after they finished eating, Perry noted there was still time left before they needed to return Peggy to the school. Not wanting his fantasy of them as a family to end, he suggested a walk through the Zoo. Peggy accepted, commenting that she had never visited one, much less seen wild animals.
That afternoon, the three of them enjoyed their trip to the zoo, the timeline to get her back to the school forgotten. Anyone who saw them together would have thought they were a family enjoying a carefree adventure. But if they were to look closer at the great man, they would have seen his contentment after a long time. He was content to have his wife so happy. For nine years, pain and sadness had taken root in Della's heart, although she had covered it with the mulch of joviality. But that afternoon spent with Peggy had rooted out that ghost and allowed for a new shoot of peace and joy to bloom.
For a moment, an absurd thought crossed Perry's mind. What if that damned selfish, stubborn old man refused to accept Peggy Smith was his legitimate granddaughter? Could Della and I . . . could we adopt her? Give her the family she so desperately craved? No, don't be a fool, Mason. You have to keep a clear head. Don't delude yourself.
He could not bear it if they went through the entire process, only to have her denied them. Della would suffer again. It was a moot point anyway, because Perry was convinced the moment the man saw his granddaughter the iceberg within his heart would melt immediately.
As they neared the boarding school, Della's happiness began to wilt. Her ghosts were returning. Perry realized he hadn't been the only one fantasizing about being a family. They said their goodbyes to their young client and started the drive back to the city. On the way to Della's apartment, she leaned close to Perry and put her head on his shoulder.
Sighing sadly, she whispered, "Sweetheart, would our life have been like this?"
He glanced down at her briefly, then pressed his lips tenderly to her hair. "Yes . . . My beautiful lady, this must have been what it would be like . . ."
A companionable silence fell between them. Both gave themselves over to their thoughts and dreams and hopes and wishes. Of what ifs and of should-have-beens. Perry eventually parked the car and held the door open for his wife.
As she slipped out, she looked deep into his blue eyes and emotion shook her. They really were in this together. In the pain, yes—but even more so, in the hope for a way through it. She laid a hand on his chest.
"Perry?" she smiled at him. "I want you to stay."
"You do?"
Her smile became a sensual grin. "Stay."