Set the Night on Fire (6 page)

“
T
ake these.” Val opened her palm. In it were eight or nine little white pills.

“What’s that?” Lila asked.

“Ambien. To help you sleep.” Her aunt slipped them back into a small brown plastic vial and set it on the table. They were having lunch at Milano’s, a white-tablecloth Italian café in downtown Evanston.

Lila held up her palm. Unlike Danny, she was reluctant to take any drug if she didn’t have to. “Thanks, Val, but they’d be wasted on me.” She smiled weakly and looked out the window. A few snowflakes drifted down, dissolving on contact with the sidewalk, uncertain whether they wanted to be there at all. Chicago winters were like that, she recalled. Furious blizzards followed by periods of apologetic calm.

Her aunt shrugged and dumped the vial back in her bag. Val was as different from Casey as Lila was—had been—from Danny. Tall and statuesque, her aunt cut a dramatic figure, and she usually milked it. She could be amusing, even exciting, but she was often like Auntie Mame on steroids.

Today she was trying for a vintage look, but her shawl was too large, her blouse too busy, and the pants too tight for her middle-aged body. Her thick hair, piled on top of her head, was a rich black this season. Lila suspected a few extensions were woven through it. Her cheeks were as taut as the skin on a drum, the result of two facelifts. Her face would probably vibrate if touched. But Val’s blue eyes were large and luminous, and they regarded Lila with curiosity. “How long will you be staying?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I took a leave of absence from Peabody Stern.”

“Can you do that? I mean, without sacrificing your position? You’ve worked so hard.”

“They said to take all the time I needed,” Lila said, a little surprised by the question. As far as she knew, her aunt had never worked a day. She remembered Gramum’s scowl whenever the subject of Val came up. Still, Val had managed to accumulate enough income to travel. She also claimed to be an artist, but Lila had never seen any paintings or heard her allude to any work in progress.

“That’s wonderful. So . . ., ” her aunt’s voice turned businesslike, “ . . . what’s going on with the insurance claim?”

The insurance adjuster, Rick Witt, was a man whose trousers and sleeves were too long for his stocky frame. He’d interviewed Lila several times. Each time he’d had a runny nose, and his constant sniffling nearly drove her crazy. “He’s waiting for the final report from the fire marshal’s office.”

“Fire marshal? I thought they just investigated arson.”

“Whenever there’s a death by fire, apparently, the state fire marshal’s office is called in. All I know is that I was interviewed by the local fire department, the state fire marshal, and the insurance adjuster. And then Dad’s lawyer said I should hire a public adjuster, just to make sure Midwest Mutual didn’t weasel out of its responsibility.”

“Have they told you what they think happened?”

“They think the lights on the tree shorted out and started a fire. Which then spread to the curtains and the furniture, and . . . ” Her voice trailed off.

“I still don’t get it. Why didn’t Danny or your father get out? There was a smoke alarm, wasn’t there?”

“It wasn’t working.”

The surprise in Val’s voice made raising her eyebrows unnecessary. “Really?”

“Dad was conscientious about that kind of thing. But with his hip replacement and everything, he might have forgotten to replace the battery.”

“But don’t they keep beeping when the battery goes?”

“I have no idea, Val.”

“And don’t you think Danny should have gotten him out? I mean, he was more mobile.”

Lila hesitated. “They found barbiturates in Danny’s system. He was out of it. Probably slept through the whole thing, until . . . ”

Val colored, as if she just remembered she’d offered Lila a stash of sleeping pills.

“They say Dad looked like he was trying to get out but was overcome by smoke. His body was by the door.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, darling.”

“The thing is . . ., ” Lila’s voice wavered.

“What?”

“I thought I unplugged the lights before I left.”

Val shot her a look.

“So I don’t understand how unplugging them triggered the fire.”

“What do the investigators say?”

“Nothing conclusive. In fact, things seem to be dragging.”

“I’m not surprised.” Val’s face took on a knowing expression.

“What do you mean?”

“The fire happened right before the holidays. No one wants to do extra paperwork that time of year.”

Lila stared at her aunt.

Val took a long sip of chardonnay. “Lila, darling. I’m going to BA at the end of next week. It’s not too late for you to come with.”

“BA?”

“Buenos Aires.”

Lila thought about traveling with Aunt Valerie, being with her 24/7. She remembered her father constantly rolling his eyes when she stayed with them for a while between her second and third husbands.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll hang around here. I . . . I should wait for the insurance report.”

“Too bad. Travel is a tonic for me. But I suppose it’s different for everyone.” She scavenged through the bread basket, surfacing with a soft Italian roll. She broke it in two, buttered half, and popped it in her mouth.

Lila leaned back. “Aunt Valerie, do . . .”

“Val, darling. Val.”

“Sorry. Val, do you ever feel . . . well . . . that . . . you’re . . . well . . . just treading water while you figure out where you’re supposed to be?”

Her aunt stopped chewing and gazed at Lila. Lila couldn’t tell if she’d hit the bull’s eye or said something so ludicrous Aunt Valerie was struggling to find a courteous response.

“I don’t see life that way, darling,” Val finally said.

“How do you see it?”

She finished chewing, taking her time. She folded her hands. “Life is a grand adventure,” she said. “And I’m the captain, first mate, and boiler room operator all rolled into one. You better believe I know where I’m going.”

Funny how traits run in families. When he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself, Danny was that way, too.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Val went on. “You’ve suffered a horrific loss. Of course you’re off balance. You’ll bounce back.”

Lila fought an achy feeling in the back of her throat. “You lost a brother.”

Her aunt smiled. “Yes, but I’m closer to the end than the beginning. You’re still at an age where it’s a shock to confront death.” She pointed her finger upwards. “He and I are becoming more acquainted every day.” She picked up her wine glass. “Although we’re both taking our time, mind you.” She paused. “And, frankly, your father and I were never that close.”

“Why not?”

“Different people. Different goals. For example, I could never have built a business the way he did. Or raised the two of you.”

“Gramum helped.”

Val rolled her eyes. “That too. Living with our mother.” She shook her head. “Your father is . . . was a saint.”

Lila cocked her head. Val was talking to her like she was an adult. She liked that. Maybe her father and grandmother had been the tiniest bit unfair. Despite the melodrama, her aunt wasn’t as superficial or as foolish as they’d led her to believe. Still, Lila gathered her courage before asking the next question. She’d asked it before, but it still felt like venturing out on a high dive. “Did you know my mother?”

Val gazed at her for a moment, then took another sip of wine. She set her glass down carefully. “I never met her.”

“How come?”

“She and your father . . . didn’t live nearby. And they were . . . well, involved in other things.”

“What other things?”

“I told you . . . I wasn’t around.”

Something in Val’s words sounded scripted to Lila. She propped her elbows on the table. “Val, why is . . . was . . . everyone so stingy with information about my mother? Gramum never mentioned her, and Daddy never said anything unless I forced the subject. Why didn’t anyone want me to know about her?”

Val tightened her lips, the same way Gramum used to do. “Your father . . . and your mother . . . er . . . got together during a . . .” she seemed to choose the word carefully, “. . . a turbulent time.”

“Dammit, Val. What is this wall of bullshit?”

Val studied her. Lila had the feeling she was coming to a decision. Then Val leaned back. “Your father never told you about that part of his life?”

“What are you talking about?”

Val sighed. “For the record, you should know I never agreed with his decision. I thought you and Danny should have been told.”

Lila had a sense that Val’s next words might change her life. “Told what?”

“Casey . . . your father . . . dropped out of college. After his freshman year.”

“Dad dropped out? But he went to night school. At DePaul.”

Val made a brushing aside gesture. “After you two were born. But he started out at Michigan.”

“The University of Michigan?” Lila straightened up. “In Ann Arbor? Are you kidding?” When Val nodded, she said, “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Probably because he dropped out after his freshman year, and he didn’t want you or Danny to follow in his footsteps.”

“Why did he drop out?”

Val didn’t answer for a minute. “I really don’t know, darling. All I know is that he . . . well . . . he did other things.”

“What things? Where?”

Val motioned to the waiter for another glass of wine. “Actually, he was living here in Chicago.”

“Chicago?” Lila was stunned.

“That’s right.”

“Did he drop out of school because he met my mother?”

Val shook her head. “He met her here.”

“In Chicago? Are you sure?”

“I was about to marry Harvey—that was hubby number one—but . . .  your father would call every once in a while, and we’d talk.”

“About what?”

A vague look came across her aunt’s face. “Oh, you know. This and that.”

A wave of suspicion rolled over Lila. “What was he doing in Chicago? Does that mean my mother was here, too? I thought she was from Indiana.”

“I guess she was, but . . . as I said, they met here. I’m sorry, doll face. I just don’t know any more.”

The waiter brought Val another glass of wine and asked Lila if she wanted more iced tea. She waved him off. “When exactly were they here?”

Val’s eyes got distant as she tried to work it out. “Let’s see. I married Harvey in ’69, and that was right in the middle of it. It must have been the summer of ’68 through about ’70.”

“We were born in May, 1970.”

“I know.”

“There has to be someone who knows about my mother and father and what they were doing here. Two people don’t exist in a vacuum.”

“I know you want answers, sweet pea. But I don’t have any. And I don’t know who would.”

“What is it about our family?” Lila fumed. “Why are there all these secrets? No one ever talks . . . talked to anyone. ” Her voice rose, “When I have a family, I’m going to . . .” She cut herself off. She didn’t have her own family. And her prospects of having one were dim.

Val’s expression said her aunt knew exactly what Lila was thinking, and that she empathized with her. The hot achy feeling in Lila’s throat came back.

“Lila,” her aunt said. “All I know is that your mother died giving birth to you and Danny. A few weeks later your Daddy showed up at Gramum’s in a cab with the two of you in his arms.” She drained the last of her wine. “Hey! Did I tell you about my itinerary after BA?”

* *

Lila walked home, sifting a multitude of thoughts. Was she prepared to take on a search for her mother’s family? What if she discovered her mother was a heroin addict? Or a thief? Or a prostitute who’d stopped taking her birth control pills? Maybe her mother’s parents were so dysfunctional that she’d been forced to escape their clutches before she, too, was destroyed. No. Better not to go there.

She headed south to Church Street. Half way down the next block, she stopped at a bookstore featuring a display of Frank Rich’s new book in the window. Rich wrote for the
New York Times
. Lila thought he could be pompous, but his heart was in the right place. She was debating whether to go in to buy it when she was distracted by a reflection in the window. It was subtle, more an impression than an image. Behind her, almost out of her field of vision, something—or someone—moved. A presence had been there, now it wasn’t.

An icicle of fear slid up her spine. The day was still overcast; the reflection might be warped. She pulled up the collar of her jacket and focused on the glass. She saw the outline of buildings across the street, a few cars passing. She heard the whine of a motorcycle revving its engine.

She flicked her eyes back to the display. Frank Rich grinned at her from half a dozen book covers. She was an adult. A professional. She made important financial decisions. Whatever demons were plaguing her, she wouldn’t let them win. Aunt Valerie would never allow herself to feel intimidated. She would laugh in the face of danger. Lila mustered her courage. Whatever was out there, she would deal with it.