I've Got You Under My Skin

14

Regina Callari’s initial response upon learning that, between Fisher Blake Studios and Robert Powell, she would net three hundred thousand dollars for appearing in the program was one of relief and elation.

The crushing burden of living paycheck to paycheck, which translated to house sale to house sale in a terrible real estate market, had been lifted from her shoulders.

It almost gave her that warm, secure feeling she had felt in early childhood, until the day she found her father’s body hanging in the garage.

Over the years she had had the same dream about her early life. In it, she woke up in her big bedroom, with the pretty white bed that had a spray of delicate pink flowers painted on the headboard, the night table, the dresser, the desk, and the bookcase. In the dream she could always vividly see the pink-and-white bedspread, the matching draperies, and the soft pink rug.

After her father’s suicide, when her mother realized how little money they had, they had moved to a three-room apartment, where they shared a bedroom.

Her mother, who loved fashion, had gotten a job as a personal shopper at Bergdorf Goodman, where she had once been a valued customer. Somehow they’d gotten by, and Regina had proudly graduated from college on a financial-aid scholarship.

After Alison’s wedding and all the gossip about Betsy’s death, I moved to Florida to escape, Regina thought as she boarded the plane in St. Augustine. Some escape. Put it aside, she told herself. Don’t keep dwelling or you’ll drive yourself crazy.

A few hours earlier she had seen Zach off on his backpacking trip to Europe. He was meeting his group in Boston, and they were flying to Paris tonight.

Regina settled comfortably in the small private plane and helped herself to a predeparture glass of wine.

She smiled briefly at the memory of the visit she and Zach had just shared.

When he had arrived home from college two weeks earlier, she had put a CLOSED FOR VACATION sign up on the front door of the office and announced to Zach that they were going on a vacation together-a cruise through the Caribbean.

The closeness between them that she was so afraid was lost had been regained-even magnified-on that trip.

Zach purposely said little about his father and stepmother, but once she asked, he told her everything.

“Mom, I knew when Dad made money, lots of money, he should have given you more. I think he would have, except he was afraid of Sonya’s reaction. She has a really bad temper.”

Zach’s father was writing the songs that made him rich when we were married, but the first one didn’t sell until a year after we were divorced. I couldn’t afford a lawyer to prove that he wrote it when he was married to me, Regina had thought bitterly.

“I think he regrets marrying Sonya,” Zach had told her. “When they have an argument, the decibel level goes through the roof.”

“I love it,” Regina remembered telling Zach.

She warmed at the memory of Zach’s compliments about her twenty-pound weight loss. “Mom, you look so cool,” he’d said, more than once.

“I worked out at the gym a lot these past two months,” she told him. “I realized that I’d gotten out of the habit of going there regularly.”

On the cruise he asked her about her parents. “All you ever really told me was that Grandpa committed suicide because he had made some bad investments and was broke, and that Grandma was planning to live in Florida when she retired, but died in her sleep only a year after you moved here,” he said.

“She never got over losing my father.”

Zach looks so much like my father, Regina thought now as the plane took off. Tall, blond, and blue-eyed.

The last night they were at dinner on the cruise Zach asked her about the night Betsy died. He had overheard his father telling Sonya all about it and had googled it.

Regina had then told him about the note.

Was I wrong to tell him about it? she wondered now. I needed to talk to someone about it. I was always worried I had made a mistake by not showing it to my mother.

Don’t dwell on it, Regina thought as she helped herself to a second glass of wine.

It was eight o’clock when she landed at Westchester. The driver who met her introduced himself as Mr. Powell’s chauffeur, Josh Damiano. He told her that Mr. Powell wanted to ensure her comfort.

It was hard not to laugh out loud. When he opened the door of the Bentley for her, she could not resist commenting to him, “I guess Mr. Powell has outgrown the Mercedes?”

“Oh no,” Damiano answered with a smile. “He has a Mercedes wagon.”

“I’m so glad.” Shut your mouth, Regina warned herself as she stepped into the car.

They were barely leaving the airport when her cell phone rang.

It was Zach. “We’re about to board, Mom. Wanted to be sure you landed safely.”

“Oh, Zach, how sweet of you. I miss you already.”

Zach’s tone changed. “Mom, the note. You told me you were tempted to shove it in Powell’s face. Have you got it with you?”

“Yes. I have it, but don’t worry. I won’t be that crazy. It’s in my suitcase. I promise you, no one can find it.”

“Mom, tear it up! If anyone found it, you could be in big trouble.”

“Zach, if it makes you feel better, I promise I’ll tear it up.”

No I won’t, she thought, but I can’t let him get on that plane upset about me.

In the front seat, Josh Damiano had not expected to record Regina because she was traveling alone. When he heard her phone ring, he quickly turned on the recorder. Maybe I’ll get lucky, he thought.

You couldn’t be too careful when you worked for a man like Mr. Powell.