The high-pitched trill of Evelyn’s phone went off for what seemed like the fifteenth time this hour. Camilla had made the first call, wanting to know if Evelyn would be going to Sachem this weekend or not, and Evelyn put her off. She wanted to go, especially once Camilla mentioned that Jaime de Cardenas and some of Souse’s friends were going. Yet there was also a fund-raiser for the Philharmonic on Saturday that some of the Sloan Kettering board members were supposed to attend, and Evelyn figured that if she had to choose, she was better off focusing on Sloan Kettering and meeting Jaime another time. She kept calling the Philharmonic development person to see who had RSVP’d, but hadn’t heard back.
Everyone else that she didn’t want to hear from kept on calling. Her rental management company called, telling her that her April and now her May payments had not been made, and she would need to get a check to them by the end of the week. “Tenant law is very strong in New York,” Evelyn responded, repeating something her father had once said. She thought she had at least three or four months before she really got into trouble for skipping her rent, and she would have money sorted out by then, somehow. The woman on the phone said that tenant law wasn’t that strong, and that further proceedings would be pursued. They’re just trying to scare me, Evelyn thought, and Camilla would not let something like this bother her, and Evelyn resolved not to, either. Then a blocked number, a man who left a voice mail telling Evelyn that he was from a collection agency that had taken over her past-due Barneys account and to call back to work out a payment plan. She deleted that midway through the message. Plausible deniability, she thought.
After that, her father called and left a message, but Evelyn didn’t listen to it. Once Charlotte told her about the indictment, Evelyn called home, and her mother confirmed that Dale had been indicted on bribery and other charges. Barbara was livid, and Evelyn was, too. That he could put the family in this precarious situation because of his own greed, his desire for maroon jackets and pocket squares and flashy cars was infuriating. Worse, she now thought he was stupid. He had been the only one at his firm to get indicted, and for someone who practices law to get so badly entangled in it meant he was careless and dumb. She had barely communicated with her father since. The one time he’d e-mailed her, it was to ask if she had a receipt for some dinner they’d had a year ago on a date prosecutors had been inquiring about. He didn’t explain what had happened, or ask her how she was holding up, but pretended like everything was cheery and fine. She’d responded by asking him again what she was supposed to tell Camilla about the dinner, and he’d replied that it wasn’t his problem.
The series of calls was capped off with her mother—a call Evelyn picked up, to see if she could get some money out of her so these other people would stop harassing her. Evelyn had to come home; it was an emergency, Barbara said.
“I’ve got a packed week, Mom. It can’t be done.”
“Evelyn, it’s not optional.”
“I’m either going to this big fund-raiser or to Sachem this weekend, and I have a lot to do before then.”
“Tomorrow, if you can’t today,” her mother said. “You’ll take the morning train and you can be back by the evening. We’ll pay for it.”
“Oh, thank you. Nice of you to pay when it’s convenient to your ends,” Evelyn said.
“Evelyn. You will be here tomorrow,” Barbara said, and the line went dead.
Five minutes after Evelyn walked in the door at Bibville, the home phone began ringing. It rang four times, then five, then six, before Evelyn figured out that her mother must’ve turned the answering machine off. She was reaching for the receiver of the front-hallway phone when she felt a swift slap on her forearm.
“It’s journalists,” Barbara said. “Or other vultures calling to express their sympathy over your father. Really, they’re so happy to see him taken down. Don’t pick it up.”
Evelyn withdrew her hand. “Ow. That hurt. Where did you come from? I didn’t realize you were home. You wanted me here, so let’s do whatever it is we’re here to do. I have a ticket on the bus from Easton to New Carrollton in three hours, so unless someone wants to drive me to New Carrollton, I have to be on it.”
The phone had stopped ringing, and Barbara took the receiver off the base. “Let them get a busy signal,” she said. “You didn’t see anyone in Easton, did you?”
“Just the taxi driver. We need to talk about money, too. This rent money you promised is nowhere to be found, and I need some for bills, too.”
“Dale,” Barbara hollered. “Dale! Your daughter is here!”
Evelyn heard the study door open and shut, and her father walked slowly down the stairs, clutching the banister.
“Hi,” Evelyn said flatly.
“Hello,” he said back.
Neither smiled.
Evelyn shrugged. “So what’s the big mystery, parents?”
“We’ll talk outside,” her father said, and opened the front door. His shoes crunched on the gravel as he walked, and Evelyn craned her head to see where he was going, which was about thirty yards away, to a grove of pines that they’d planted when they moved in, which now were tall and elegant.
Her mother clomped after him, and Evelyn, with a bewildered look on her face for the effect of anyone who was watching, followed them. Her parents were standing silently by the trees.