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Lessons in Chemistry

Электронная книга - «Lessons in Chemistry». Краткое содержание книги:

****A delight for readers of *Where'd You Go, Bernadette*, this blockbuster debut set in 1960s California features the singular voice of Elizabeth Zott, a scientist whose career takes a detour when she becomes the star of a beloved TV cooking show.****
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“We asked you here to offer you a job,” Parker said. “That was our only goal. We’re longtime admirers of your work.”

Elizabeth searched the woman’s face for signs of deceit. “Look,” she said in a calmer voice. “I don’t have an issue with you. It’s Wilson. How long have you known him?”

“We’ve worked together for nearly thirty years, so I’d say I know him very well.”

“Does he have children?”

She gave Elizabeth a peculiar look. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” she said. “But no.”

“You’re sure.

“Of course I’m sure. He’s my lawyer — this is my foundation, Miss Zott, but he’s the face of it.”

“And why is that?” Elizabeth pressed.

Avery Parker looked at her, unblinking. “I’m amazed you have to ask. I may have considerable assets, but like most women in the world, my hands are tied. I can’t even write a check unless Wilson cosigns.”

“How can that be? It’s the Parker Foundation,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Not the Wilson Foundation.”

Parker snorted. “Yes, a foundation I inherited with the proviso that my husband make all the financial decisions. As I was unmarried at the time, the board appointed Wilson as trustee. As I’m still unmarried, Wilson continues to hold the reins. You’re not the only one who’s fought a losing battle, Miss Zott,” she said as she stood up, tugging hard on her suit jacket. “Although I’m lucky: Wilson’s a decent man.”

She turned and walked away as Elizabeth asked another question, but instead of responding, Avery Parker ignored her. What had she been thinking? Elizabeth Zott was not interested in returning to Hastings, and maybe, based on her pointed questions about Wilson — not to mention all the other issues — it would be better for all if she did not. Distracted, Avery reached up and touched her finger to her cheap daisy brooch. What a foolish woman she’d been. Buying Hastings, coming here, meeting Zott. Yes, she’d always been fascinated by Zott and her research — she’d once dreamed of becoming a scientist herself. But instead, she’d been raised to be one thing and one thing only: nice. Unfortunately, according to both her parents and the Catholic Church, she’d failed at that, too.

“Miss Parker—” Elizabeth pressed.

“Miss Zott,” Avery returned just as emphatically. “I’ve made a mistake. You don’t want to come back to Hastings; fine. I’m not going to beg.”

Elizabeth took a short breath in.

“I’ve been begging my entire life,” Parker continued. “I’m sick of it.”

Elizabeth brushed a few stray hairs aside. “It’s not even me you want,” she said hotly. “Isn’t that right? You’re only here for the boxes.”

Avery cocked her head as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Boxes?”

“I understand. You bought Hastings; they belong to you. But this charade—”

What charade?”

“— I want to know about All Saints. I think I have a right to know.”

“Excuse me?” Parker said. “You have a right? Let me tell you a little secret about rights. They don’t exist.”

“They do for the wealthy, Miss Parker,” Elizabeth insisted. “Tell me about Wilson. About Wilson and Calvin.”

Avery Parker stared back perplexed. “Wilson and Calvin? No, no…”

“Again, I think I have a right to know.”

Avery pressed her hands down on the counter. “I wasn’t planning on doing this today.”

“Doing what?”

“I wanted to get to know you first,” Avery continued. “I think that’s my right. To know who you are.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

Avery reached for the chalkboard eraser. “Look. I…I need to tell you a story.”

“I’m not interested in stories.”

“It involves a seventeen-year-old girl,” Avery Parker said, undeterred, “who fell in love with a young man. It’s a rather standard story,” she said brittlely, “where the young girl got pregnant and her prominent parents, shamed by their daughter’s promiscuity, sent her away to a Catholic home for unwed mothers.” She turned her back on Elizabeth. “Maybe you’ve heard of these homes, Miss Zott. They’re run like prisons. Filled with young women in the same kind of trouble. They have their babies, then relinquish them. There was an official form to sign and most signed. Those who refused were threatened: they’d have to endure the delivery alone; they might even die. Despite the warning, the seventeen-year-old girl still refused to sign. Kept insisting she had rights.” Parker paused, shaking her head as if she still couldn’t believe the naïveté.

“True to their word, when her labor started, they put her in a room by herself and locked the door. She stayed there, alone, crying out in pain, for a full day. At some point, the doctor, infuriated by the noise, finally decided he’d had enough. He went in and anesthetized her. When she came to hours later, she was given the grim news. Her baby had been stillborn. Shocked, she asked to see the body, but the doctor said they’d already disposed of it.

“Fast-forward ten years,” Avery Parker continued, turning to face Elizabeth, her jaw tight. “A nurse from the unwed mothers home contacts the now-twenty-seven-year-old woman. Wants money for the truth. Tells her the baby didn’t die; rather, it, like all the other babies, had been put up for adoption. The only unusual thing: this child’s adoptive parents died in a tragic accident, then the child’s aunt died. The child was sent to a place called All Saints in Iowa.”

Elizabeth froze.

“That was the day,” Avery Parker said, her voice turning sad, “the young woman began her quest to find her son.” She paused. “My son.”

Elizabeth drew back, all the color draining from her face.

“I’m Calvin Evans’s biological mother,” Avery Parker said slowly, her gray eyes filling with tears. “And with your permission, Miss Zott, I’d very much like to meet my granddaughter.”

Chapter 44

The Acorn

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Elizabeth stared at Avery Parker, uncertain how to proceed. This couldn’t be true. Calvin’s own diary had revealed that his biological mother had died in childbirth.

“Miss Parker,” Elizabeth said carefully, as if picking her way across hot coals. “A lot of people have tried to take advantage of Calvin over the years. Many have even pretended to be long-lost family members. Your story is—” She stopped. She thought back to all the letters Calvin had kept. Sad Mother — she’d written to him several times. “If you knew he was in that boys home, why didn’t you go get him?”

“I did,” Avery Parker said. “Or rather, I sent Wilson. I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t brave enough to go myself.” She got up and walked the length of the worktable. “You need to understand. I’d long ago accepted that my child was dead. Now to suddenly learn he was alive? I was afraid to get my hopes up. Like Calvin, I too have been a target for countless scams, including from dozens of people claiming to be my so-called relatives. So I sent Wilson,” she repeated, looking down at the floor as if reviewing this decision for the fiftieth time. “I sent him to All Saints the very next day.”

The vacuum pump started a new cycle, and with it a hissing sound filled the laboratory.

“And—” Elizabeth prodded.

“And,” Avery said, “the bishop informed Wilson that Calvin was…” She hesitated.

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