Hidden Past – Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Hidden Past

Austin slept very little that night. He was concerned, even worried, about what his new acquaintance Fredrik had called Angela at the event. Marie was, in fact, Angela’s middle name, but he had never known her to be called by that name.

“I hate my middle name,” Angela had told him emphatically.

Austin was reluctant to bring up the incident, at least for now. He loved the stable family life he and Angela had created together. And he absolutely adored their little girl Samantha. He vowed when he first held her in the delivery room that he would never do anything to disrupt her life or create traumas for her.

“Here’s our gift from God!” he had proclaimed to the groggy but ecstatic Angela.

Austin lay in bed, staring toward the dark, cavernous vaulted ceiling of their master bedroom. He sensed that Angela too was awake, but she didn’t move and was breathing with seemingly easy regularity.

No, this is not the time to bring up this business about Fredrik Werner calling her Marie, he thought to himself. Things were going so well for the three of them, and besides, he thought he could only handle so many things at one time. He had learned from his first wife, Lorena, that it was best to pace oneself, to take things in sequence or in stride. She had also taught him about the enduring qualities of love and that everyone has some private aspects to their lives.

“To try to know everything about someone, even if you love that person, can become invasive, even possessive. Sometimes we need to be satisfied with what we have for the moment or the unforeseeable future.”

Austin was more than curious and even had anxiety around Angela being referred to as Marie. But again, he could only handle so many things at one time. Maybe it was a name her longtime boyfriend in high school and college, Kenny Chessin, had called her, and somehow the name got passed on to Fredrik Werner. It was too bad he couldn’t contact Kenny to find out if some way or another, Kenny had known Fredrik and referred to his girlfriend as Marie. Austin thought maybe he could get to know Fredrik better in the next few weeks and ask him if he had ever known a guy named Kenny Chessin. All in the proper sequence …

His mind went back to earlier that same day when his attorney, Allan Federer, had called.
“I have some disturbing news, Austin. I have had a couple of telephone conversations with a Ms. Rosen, Janie Rosen, who lives in Beachwood, Ohio, and Boca Raton. She wants to schedule a meeting with you to talk about your first wife, Lorena.”

“What—what about Lorena?” Austin was caught somewhat off guard and always had pangs of emptiness whenever Lorena’s name or memory abruptly came into his consciousness. He would always miss her.

“Ms. Rosen thinks that her mother, Elinor Rosen, knew Lorena way back when. Elinor now spends all her time in Boca, part of the time at a nursing home. She has Alzheimer’s, and her daughter Janie spends almost half her time in Boca.”

“Why doesn’t she move to Boca?” Austin wondered why he wanted to know.

“Janie is a therapist or counselor. She’s a social worker who has a private practice in Cleveland, recently got licensed in Florida, and is trying to sell her practice in Cleveland so she can move to Boca Raton full time.” Allan Federer always had the answers.

“I don’t understand … What does she want from me? And why didn’t she just contact me directly?” Austin asked with a sound of skepticism in his voice.

“I think she wants money—who doesn’t?” Allan said in a clipped, serious way. “She said she has been doing research about you and the company and found my name as executive vice president and general counsel. She said she wants to keep everything businesslike and professional.”

“So what does that mean?” Austin asked as if he were wondering to himself out loud.
“I think it means she was afraid to approach you directly …”

“But why? Why wouldn’t she just pick up the phone and call me directly?” Austin continued to feel puzzled.

“Maybe she was afraid, and maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she is intimidated by your president’s title. I think she felt a little bit of trust, a little bit of a connection with me.”

“How come?”

“Because in her research on me, she learned that I have a cousin named Fran, who is also from Beachwood and Shaker Heights. Fran is actually her aunt.”

“Well, what do you think I should do, Allan?” Austin was anxious and still somewhat confused. What did this woman want? Allan thought she wanted money, but Austin had a very odd feeling that she wanted something more than money.