Page 156 of The Newcomer
“See if you can find a battered women’s shelter, okay?” Letty asked. “Tanya would absolutely hate that anybody thought of her as battered. Or a victim. But that doesn’t change the fact that she was.”
She turned to the racks of handbags. There were dozens of them, lined up on shelves that reached nearly to the ceiling of the closet, many in soft flannel bags with the designer’s name stitched or stenciled on the outside. She squatted down on the floor, reading thelabels, shunting the bags aside, then stood and repeated the process, shelf by shelf.
Finally, she fetched a velvet upholstered bench from beneath the closet window, stood on it, and searched the top shelf. When her hand closed on the worn, pebbly surface of a particular handbag, she knew she’d found what she was looking for.
Letty set the pocketbook on the top of the jewelry cabinet.
“Louis Vuitton,” Sammi said. She ran an appraising finger across the frayed stitching of the shoulder strap and peeked inside the bag. “And it’s the real thing. See? Here’s the date code. There’s a huge secondary market for these bags. It’s too bad about the condition, though. There are stains in the canvas lining.”
“This one’s not for sale,” Letty said firmly. “She was so damned proud of this silly purse. She bought it with the money she earned from her first television commercial. At the time, she didn’t have enough money in the bank to buy a full tank of gas. But she had to have a Louis Vuitton bag. She took it to all her auditions and casting calls. She said it was better than a good headshot. It meant she was a success.”
Letty reached inside the bag and was surprised to see that it wasn’t empty. She emptied the contents onto the top of the cabinet. A half-empty tube of Tanya’s favorite Chanel lipstick, crumpled tissues, a plastic TicTac box, some faded Duane Reade receipts, and a prescription pill bottle tumbled onto the surface, along with a pale lavender sealed envelope.
The typed pill bottle label was for Tanya Carnahan, the drug’s name was one Letty didn’t recognize, and a single tablet rattled around inside. She handed it to Sammi. “It’s an antianxiety med,” Sammi said. “Looks like some doctor prescribed it not long after Maya was born.”
Letty looked at the envelope, which was somewhat smudged and crumpled on the edges, but blank.
She slit the flap with her thumbnail and extracted a greeting card featuring a whimsical Victorian drawing of two little girls.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
I SMILE BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BIG SISTER
I LAUGH BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING
YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
Letty recognized the handwriting inside.
Happy birthday, Letty Spaghetti—
xoxo Tanya Lasagna
“Oh wow,” Sammi said, reading over Letty’s shoulder. “How sad. I guess she just didn’t get around to sending you this card. I wonder if she bought it right before… you know.”
“No,” Letty said firmly. “Tanya hadn’t carried this bag in ages. The pill bottle, and the Duane Reade receipts, they’re all from before and right after the time she had Maya.” She turned to the lawyer. “Did Tanya ever tell you that we were estranged back then? We had a fight. Over Evan. After she told me she was moving in with him and she was pregnant with Maya. I was so furious. I didn’t speak to her for more than three years—until I finally caved in and went to Maya’s third-birthday party.”
“I knew there’d been some kind of rift,” Sammi admitted. “But I didn’t press her for details.” She tapped the card. “Look, there’s writing on the back.”
Letty turned the card over. Tanya’s writing on the back was unlike the big, looped writing inside the card. This message was in tiny, cramped cursive.
Sissy—I’m so sorry for everything I did. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. You and my baby are the only good things in my life. I miss you, Letty Spaghetti.
Letty tucked the card back into the envelope. A single tear spattered on the lavender paper. She put it inside the Louis Vuitton tote and brushed away another tear.
“All right,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. “Let’s get out of here.”
Sammi gave her a sympathetic hug. “Want to go get a drink? I know I could use one.”
“You go,” Letty said, slinging the Louis Vuitton tote over her shoulder. “Order a cosmo and drink it in Tanya’s honor, will you? That’s what she used to order when she first moved up here, you know. She never missed a rerun ofSex and the City.She thought drinking a cosmopolitan actually made her as sexy and sophisticated as Carrie and Samantha and Charlotte.”
“What about you?” Sammi asked, as they locked up the town house. “What are your plans?”
They were standing on the brownstone stoop, looking down East Sixty-Third Street.
Letty pulled her phone from the pocket of her skirt. “I need to call a guy.”
Sammi gave her a knowing smile. “I see. Keep in touch, okay? We’ll need to finalize some paperwork, but that can easily be done online.” She leaned over and pecked Letty’s cheek. “I still miss her, you know? But seeing you helps. You’re much more like her than you know. And that’s a compliment.”
