Phoenix
Chapter Six
The next day Della and Perry took Peggy to see Courtney Jeffers. Although Perry didn't know what to expect, Della was confident only one look from the sweet girl would be enough to melt the piece of ice the stubborn old man had in place of his heart.
The late afternoon gave way into evening. Through dinner Perry dictated the changes to the Jeffers will. As the old gentleman wanted to leave Peggy all his earthly assets, the job was tedious but straightforward.
Della looked over at her husband. Even if Courtney Jeffers had taken the long way to the right decision, she owed him a debt; thanks to him holding out, she and Perry had the priceless gift of getting to know and love the dear girl. And thanks to Peggy, she and Perry had made their way back to each other. Between the will and dinner, they had agreed that over the weekend—after finishing everything related to Peggy Smith—they would move all of Della's things to Perry's apartment.
But the plans abruptly changed when, finished except for the necessary signature, they received a call from Linda Osborne. Jeffers, the same man who had finally come around to love Peggy beyond all reason, had been murdered. Della could barely wrap her mind around it! And to her complete surprise, the police believed Linda guilty of the crime.
Predictably, Perry ended up defending her against the murder charge. After uncovering the murderer (thanks to Paul and hard work), the charges against Linda were dropped. During the course of the legal process Perry and Della decided to push for Linda to take custody of Peggy. To their mutual consternation, Linda persisted in declining. Linda had explained that, although she cared about and for Peggy, it was simply not enough to convince her to take the responsibility.
In a new attempt to convince his client, Perry took Della aside and suggested she try to speak with Linda one final time. She looked dubious. But Perry flashed that dimpled grin, and Della felt herself weakening.
"If anyone can do it, you can, Della," Perry informed her, the dimples coming easily. "Come on, Girl Friday! You have to try."
Della realized she was defeated, as much by Perry's urging and dimples as she was by an earnest desire to see Peggy safe and loved. She nodded.
Approaching where Linda and Peggy were waiting in the office, Della asked the young woman, "Miss Osborne! Could you and I have a chat before you go?"
Linda Osborne, slender and dark, was a lovely-looking spinster of anywhere between twenty-four and thirty-nine. Too old and sour to attract the right kind of suitor and too young to really give up the dream, she was fidgeting with her gloves and purse. Looking at her watch, she took her time before raising her eyes to Della in apology.
"Sorry, Miss Street, but it isn't possible—I have a flight in two hours and I wouldn't want to miss it."
Della managed not to roll her eyes. She had heard that particular argument at least as many times as she had heard Paul call her "Beautiful."
"Miss Osborne! Please, I— I promise it won't take long." Della placed a hand on the small of the girl's back. "Step this way, if you will."
There was no graceful way to get out of it, so she bit back her pride and nodded.
Della offered her a sweet smile that inadvertently reminded the girl of Peggy. Preceding Della into the library, Linda missed the light squeeze Perry gave his secretary's arm.
"Not to worry," Perry called out as they passed him, "Peggy and I will wait in the living room."
Once inside the room, Linda studied Della closely. She was impatient, not only because of the flight, but also because she knew what was coming. Her lawyer and his secretary were going to fight her, tooth and nail.
"Sit," Della invited warmly, but one look at the young woman told her that wasn't going to happen.
Linda fidgeted with her hands. "Well, Miss Street, what is it?" She was able to keep only the faintest trace of curiosity in her tone.
"Miss Osborne, I may be taking liberties, but it can't be helped. I would like to ask you to reconsider staying with Peggy. That precious girl needs a family. You are all she has! I know you've been hurt, and I know you're scared. But—"
"Miss Street," she interrupted quickly, "I understand your good intentions. Peggy is a sweet child, I agree. But I am the least-suitable person to care for her. She really wouldn't be happy with me. I don't hate her. Really, I don't. But she is a constant reminder of what her parents did to me. I live in terror thinking about what it would be like . . . Not that I am only thinking of myself, but I know I would end up pouring my frustrations and hatred out on her. Surely you agree that she doesn't deserve that! No, Miss Street," she paused for a quick, indrawn breath, "I'm not that cruel! As if to wish that on Peggy."
Della stared at her in consternation. "I can't understand how you or someone else would be able to treat a child badly! Peggy is such a sweet and cuddly girl, with so much love to give. You don't know how happy I would be if I had the opportunity to have her in my life."
"That's easy for you to say. The kid isn't a constant reminder of betrayal and public humiliation. Of ridicule from the two people I loved the most in this life. How would you feel if you faced that reminder day-in and day-out? With nothing to do but cater to her every whim while wondering what wrong you did to deserve this misery? The people you trusted the most . . . How could they do you so much harm?" Her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes closed, willing the tears back. Then she raised her head and continued, "If they had fallen in love to the point of betraying and hurting me, why did they wait to tell me? Why were they so cruel as to wait until my wedding day? I was at the altar for the coup de grace."
Della didn't have an answer for that. Linda Osborne looked at her watch again and her brows knitted together.
"Miss Street, I'm sorry, but I must go. If I don't leave right now, I'll miss the plane." Her eyes softened as she reached out a hand absently. "You won't have to worry about Peggy, either. Even though my uncle failed to change his will in favor of her, I know she's the rightful heir. The fortune is hers. Uncle Courtney wanted it that way. I am aware she is the only one who has the right to it. As long as she can't be independent, I will appoint a trustee to take over. Do you think Mr. Mason can handle it?"
"I'm more than sure Pe. . . I mean, Mr. Mason, will be more than happy to accept." Della replied, a big smile spreading across her features. And I'm sure he won't mind the excuse to keep up with Peggy. "What arrangements did you make for Peggy? Staying here alone isn't feasible."
"True. I saw to it that she will continue at the boarding school. They take good care of her there, and she has been content." Linda moved toward the door. "Let's go out, so I can go."
After they both left the library, they found Perry and Peggy quietly talking. They were seated in the living room, chatting like old friends. There was a twinkle in Perry's blue eyes, and Peggy's were shining in response. Then, spotting Linda Osborne, the light dimmed, then faded.
Perry rose from his seat and offered his hand. Linda offered him the trustee position. As Della had predicted, he didn't think twice before accepting the responsibility. Then taking both women and himself by surprise, he asked a question.
"Miss Osborne, would you allow us to adopt Peggy?"
"Perry!" Della exclaimed, shock making her voice vibrate with emotion.
"Oh, Mr. Mason!" Peggy cried, delighted and unsure how to respond. She looked to Linda.
Linda looked gob smacked. "Mr. Mason, I-I d-don't und-derst-stand . . . You're a bachelor! I don't th-think it is appropriate for you to take care of a nine-year-old girl."
Then Perry met his wife's eyes and stretched out his hand. "My darling woman, come here." She moved to take his hand and came closer. He looked back to Linda. "Miss Osborne, what I am going to tell you is something almost no one knows. If this is leaked to the press, I will know who did it." He paused to let that sink in, then continued, "Miss Street—no, Della—is my wife. Has been for over nine years . . ."
Linda's jaw unhinged.
"So, if you accept, I don't think we would have any difficulty in adopting her." He smiled over at Peggy. "Also, if everything works out, there would be no intention of accepting Mr. Jeffery's money, because we can certainly provide for Peggy." He didn't add that she would enjoy a life of privilege. "Della and I can't help but love her. Is it not so, my lady?"
Betrayed by her tears, Della just nodded. It took her a moment to get her emotions under control. Then she said, "Miss Osborne, I promise you Peggy will be loved more than she is now. Please think about it. Surely this is the best possible solution for you and her."
"You may be right. But first we have to know what Peggy thinks." Linda forced a smile. "If you agree, I will not object. What do you say, Peggy? What do you think about Mr. Mason and Miss—Mrs. Mason adopting you?"
Peggy nodded like it was a matter of life and death.
"So… in the face of that effusive response, I have nothing more to say. I will notify my lawyer to contact you and give you everything you need so you can start the adoption process. Well . . . Now I'm leaving. The plane really will take off without me. Peggy, Mr. and Mrs. Mason, I wish you all the best and hope all three of you are very happy as a new family."
"So, say we all," Perry whispered. He turned to look at his two girls. "Trust me, I'm sure we will be!"
After Linda left, Peggy looked at Della with those big blue eyes. "Miss Street?" She looked down, suddenly unsure of herself.
Della's heart melted. "It's okay, Peggy. Ask me whatever you want."
Her worried blue eyes met the fathomless hazel ones looking back at her. "No, I don't need anything . . . I just wanted to ask: Is it true that you and Mr. Mason will be my new parents?"
With tears in her eyes, Della hugged Peggy tightly. "Yes! Yes, my girl, yes!"
She kissed the girl's forehead. Watching the tender scene, Perry drew in his breath and brushed away his tears. Then his big arms wrapped around his ladies, and he embraced them.
XXXX XXXX XXXX
After they had dinner and took Peggy back to boarding school, Perry left Della at their apartment to rest from everything that happened that day. He had business with Paul that couldn't wait. Della used the time for introspection. She wandered around, finding herself in her room, the conversation she had with Linda replaying in her mind. The words of pain the young woman had spoken still throbbed in her head. Those words had struck close to home. Taking a deep breath, she walked to her closet. Taking out a small chest, she opened the drawer of her nightstand to remove the key and opened it. Inside it were some documents, letters and, underneath those, an old photograph. It was the same photograph Michael Domenico had—the one where they were happy and in love.
Looking at it, she traced his smile. Then she whispered, "Michael . . . I really hope you were able to forgive me! So sorry . . . I am truly . . . so sorry . . ."
XXXX XXXX XXXX
Michael was in the library of his home in Chicago, sitting placidly on his favorite sofa, reading and drinking a glass of whisky. His housekeeper entered, informed him of a call, then retreated. He rose from the sofa and walked to his desk. Picking up the extension, he said, "Well, Luigi? What news?"
"Goodnight, boss! Excuse me for disturbing you at home so late, but you said any important news and I was to let you know immediately."
Michael drummed his fingers on the desk. "It's okay, Luigi, no problem! I just hope what you have to tell me is important. What do you have?"
"Well . . ." Luigi told him how the Osborne case ended, then reported the touching scene as the woman and the little girl parted. "The informant at the mansion reported Mason and Miss Street offered to take care of the brat. Osborne gave her consent."
There was a prolonged silence as Michael processed the information. Then he said, "It was important after all. You and your informant have earned an extra bonus. Now go to rest, because tomorrow morning you'll have to keep a close eye on them. As always, if there is anything new, let me know immediately."
After hanging up the phone Michael snorted audibly. Approaching where he left his glass of whiskey, he picked it up and drank the contents in one fell swoop. For a moment he allowed himself to feel the amber liquid burn his throat. Looking at the photograph of Della and him in happier days, he grunted, "Well, well, Della! You and miserable Mason like to make things harder for me. Why couldn't you leave the girl where she was?" He laughed without mirth. "No, it would have always been like this! You had to think about adopting her. There is no doubt blood is thicker than water! But guess what? I also like to make things difficult for you. So, it's about time you and I are reacquainted."