Hanging Hannah (19 page)

For the third time, Jane held up the cover of Elaine Lawler's newest Regency romance,
Scandal's Folly
, and squinted, trying to read the back-cover copy. It was no use. The painting in the background was of an ornate tapestry in black and red, and the black lettering over it was impossible to read. She lifted the phone to call Abigail Schwartz, Elaine's editor, then changed her mind and replaced the receiver. She wasn't up to an argument now, not yet. She still didn't feel quite herself. She'd spent all of yesterday, Sunday, in bed, resting and being cared for by the wonderful, solicitous Florence. To explain the stitches on her head, they'd both told Nick that Jane had simply fallen.

She decided phone calls were out this morning, and carried a pile of manuscripts from her bookcase to her desk and began reading. These manuscripts were from prospective clients, and each was worse than the one before it. Jane wondered briefly if perhaps her state of mind was coloring her judgment, then decided it wasn't—the stuff really was that bad—and carried the manuscripts out to the reception room, placing them on the credenza to await rejection letters Daniel would write. She wondered how he was getting along in Chicago. It was lonely here without him. She returned to her office. The phone rang as she sat down.

“Jane Stuart.”

“Daniel Willoughby.”

“Daniel! I was just thinking about you. How's it going?”

“All right.” He sounded tired. “I've buried my father and taken care of everything that can be taken care of at this point. Remind me someday to tell you about the joys of probate. I'm flying home late this afternoon.”

“Good. I'm sure Laura will be pleased. I know I will.”

“Thanks. How did the convention go?”

She told him about getting mugged.

“Holy smokes! Jane, you could have been killed!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Cancel your credit cards.”

“Did.”

“You're sure you're all right? I know Laura would be more than happy to get groceries for you, whatever you need.”

“Thanks, that's sweet, but Florence has been great. You just get home safe.”

“Will do. See you in the morning, business as usual.”

As soon as Jane hung up, the phone rang again. It was Bertha.

“Just checking to make sure you're feeling okay.”

“Yes, I'm fine, Bertha. Thank you for all you've done.”

“I blame myself for giving you that bogus note.”

“Don't be ridiculous! You didn't know it wasn't real. But I don't think I'll be attending any more conventions for a while.”

“I can't say I blame you,” Bertha said. “Now. Since you're feeling better, I need to run a plot question past you. Do you have a minute?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Yes, Bertha.”

The minute lasted an hour. Through it all, Jane listened politely, trying to be helpful. Bertha had, after all, been very good to her.

When at last Bertha was finished “brainstorming,” Jane thanked her again and hung up. From the far left side of her desk she grabbed a manuscript that had been submitted to her a week ago—a suspense novel she'd begun to read and had thought showed promise. She'd read a page and a half when the phone rang again. Jane picked it up.

“Goddess here.”

Jane forced a smile into her voice. “Hello, Goddess, dear.”

“Don't call me dear.”

“Sorry. Hello, Goddess. Am I allowed to ask how you are?”

“Funny.” There was a faint chomping on the line—Goddess was either eating something or chewing gum. “You still interested in seeing my new movie?
Adam and Eve
?”

“Of course!”

“Yves has set up a private screening for you. You can bring Daniel and Laura and anybody else you want. Yves says we need word of mouth on this one.”

“That sounds wonderful, Goddess, thank you. When were you thinking?”

“Tomorrow, but we're having it early because I have to be at the theater for my show by seven-thirty. Come at four.” Goddess gave Jane the address of a building owned by the studio, on Seventh Avenue.

Jane jotted it down. “I'm not sure who'll be able to come.”

“That's up to you. But I hope that cute Daniel can make it. I thought it would maybe take his mind off his dad.”

“Why, that's very thoughtful of you, Goddess,” Jane said, surprised. “I believe you're right. I'll see what I can do.”

Abruptly Goddess hung up.
Such a strange girl
. Jane sat pondering. This would be fun. A private screening of a major new film starring Goddess.... So glamorous. The knitting-club ladies would probably enjoy this, especially since Louise had suspended the meetings for a while.

Later that day, as Jane prepared to leave the office, Daniel called. “I'm home. Just wanted you to know.”

“I'm so glad. Listen, while I have you on the line, Goddess has invited us to a private screening of
Adam and Eve
, her new movie. Would you and Laura like to come? It's tomorrow at four in the city, so I figure we'd have to leave Shady Hills by two-thirty.”

“Short day.”

“Sure is,” Jane said, and reached to the back of her head to feel her stitches. She winced. “And I can use it. So, you game?”

“I'd love to, but I don't know about Laura. She'll be working. But I'll ask her, see if she wants to take time off.”

“Gotcha. See you in the morning.”

Grabbing her purse and briefcase, Jane headed out the back door to the parking lot. On the way to her car it occurred to her that representing someone like Goddess had its perks. Tonight, from home, she'd call the Defarge ladies and invite them. She decided she'd also invite Greenberg. Though Goddess's primal dancing had been lost on him, he might enjoy
Adam and Eve
, which, as Goddess herself had said, was a traditional drama.

Opening the car door, Jane frowned. Was Goddess capable of doing
anything
traditional?

“Hey, Mom!” Nick ran up to her as she came through the back door from the garage.

“Give me a hug, you little bug,” she said, grabbing Nick and kissing the top of his head.

“Ouch! Mom, your briefcase is hitting me!”

“Ooh, sorry, honey.” She set it down.

“Mom, all the kids at school say you're going to be a movie star. Are you?”

“A movie star!” She laughed. “How silly. Of course not. I'm representing one, though. Goddess. That must be what they're talking about. But I wonder how they heard?”

“Ashley Klein's dad works for a company that promotes movies, whatever that means. He read about you in
Variety
.”

“Ah.” She'd have to get a copy of that.

“So you're representing Goddess,” Nick said thoughtfully. “Cool. She's bigger than Madonna.”

Florence appeared from the family room. “Hello, missus. And how was your day?”

“Great, Florence, thanks.”

“Your head is better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Young man,” Florence said to Nick, “I was about to beat you in chess, and we also have some cleaning up to do in there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said, and ran back to the family room.

“What smells so good?” Jane asked.

“Meat loaf—Trinidad-style. It is my great-grandmother's recipe. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will. I've liked all your other recipes.”

“It's not quite ready. You're home a bit early. We'll finish our game and clean up.”

“Sounds good.” Jane followed Florence into the family room and sank into the big leather armchair.

Winky lay asleep in the corner of the sofa. Seeing Jane, she jumped up and ran over to her, climbing into her lap and curling back up. Jane stroked her soft fur.

Across the room, Nick had already tossed most of his army men into their clear-plastic bin. He finished that task, then turned to the chess game waiting on the coffee table.

Florence sat on the sofa and concentrated on the board. “It was my move, correct?” she asked Nick.

He walked over on his knees. “Correct.” He turned to Jane. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

She looked at him in puzzlement. “I live here.”

“No, I mean why are you sitting in here with us? Usually you're in your office reading your manuscripts or something.”

Jane had made a point of sitting down in the room with them, feeling she hadn't been spending enough time with Nick.

“I want to spend more time with you,” she told him honestly. “Anything wrong with that?”

“No,” he said, shrugging, and watched Florence move her knight. Suddenly he sat up straight. “Ooh! What time is it?”

“Five minutes to four,” Jane told him.

“Yikes. Florence, would it be okay with you if we continue this game later? I don't want to miss
CyberWarriors
. It's on at four.”

“No problem,” Florence said with a smile. “I'll go check on my meat loaf.”

Nick grabbed the remote from the sofa, switched on the TV, and began running quickly through the channels.

Jane hated when he did that.

“Honey, could you just punch in the channel you want?”

At that moment, for a fraction of a second, there was an image of Goddess singing.

“Wait,” Jane said. “Can you go back to that, please? That was Goddess.”

“Mom,” Nick whined, “I don't want to miss
CyberWarriors
.”

“Come on, come on,” she urged him quickly, and with a grimace he clicked back a few channels until Goddess was once more on the screen.

“It's MTV,” Nick said, sounding bored. “One of her music videos. This is old.”

“Old? How old could it be? Goddess hasn't been around that long.”

“At least a year,” Nick said.

“Ah. Old.”

Goddess did look a little different—but then, she looked different every time Jane saw her. At this moment, Goddess, looking a bit like Tarzan's Jane in a skimpy kind of bikini made of pale green leaves, was walking down a path through a dark forest of trees, singing, “To-o-ouch me once,” followed by a heavy drumbeat and Goddess's deep panting, and then again, “To-o-ouch me once. . . .”

As she walked along and sang, she ran her hands caressingly up the trunks of the trees, which Jane suddenly realized were the bare legs of what must have been exceptionally tall men.

“Good heavens,” Jane said, watching with a combination of fascination and dismay. Goddess's leg-stroking was becoming more and more suggestive, her hands roaming higher and higher on the leg trees.

“But don't you da-are touch again,” Goddess warned, the camera suddenly close up on her face, her pouting doll lips, and then just as quickly the camera pulled back to show an arm reach down and caress one of Goddess's breasts. She slapped the arm's hand and it withdrew. Goddess wandered on along the forest path. “To-o-ouch me once!” she belted out again.

At this vehement command, Winky awoke in Jane's lap, sat up sharply, and ran to the TV screen. She stared hard at Goddess's image and suddenly opened her mouth wide, her back and tail bristling, and let out a long, loud hiss.

“Winky, get away from there,” Nick said, waving her away. Winky got down from the TV and walked slowly away, her gaze fixed on the screen. “She sure didn't look like that at Daniel and Laura's wedding,” Nick commented.

“No, that she didn't,” Jane said.

At that moment Florence entered the room. “I know this song,” she said happily. “This is our very own Goddess. I first heard this when I was taking care of little Kerry in Randolph. Missus,” she said pensively, “I was just checking on my meat loaf and I'm just wondering if I—aye-aye-aye!” She had turned to look at the TV screen. Her eyes bulged. Goddess was slapping off two breast-caressing tree hands at once. “Missus, do you think we”—she tilted her head toward Nick—“should be watching such things?”

“No, of course not,” Jane said, shaking herself from her hypnotic state. “Nick, it's four o'clock anyway. You'd better put on your
CyberWarriors
.”

“Fine with me,” Nick said, shrugging, and clicked the remote. The bright colors of animated rocket pilots filled the screen.

Jane, aware that quality time with Nick was not possible when
CyberWarriors
was on, got up and went into the kitchen. Florence stood at the sink, cutting up string beans. She shook her head disapprovingly.

“It makes you wonder, doesn't it, missus? That that young woman—no, that child—should have been allowed to do such things. I ask you—where were her parents? Her father, isn't he that big rich sneaker man? ‘Do it or else'?”

Jane laughed. “ ‘Go ahead and do it.' Yes, that's him. Carl Hamner. Goddess doesn't like to talk about her parents. When Laura and I had lunch with Goddess, and Laura said she thought Goddess's house belonged to her parents, Goddess became furious and made it clear she and her parents have no relationship.”

“Maybe she realized what a bad job of bringing her up they did,” Florence muttered, opening the oven door a crack to check on her meat loaf.

“Somehow,” Jane said thoughtfully, “I don't think that was it.”

 

Later that evening, from her study off the living room, Jane put aside the manuscript she was reading to call her friends and invite them to Goddess's screening. She called Daniel first.

“I asked Laura, and she says she'd love to. She'll take a half day off from work.”

“Great. We can drive in together—you and Laura with me and Greenberg, if he'll come.”

“Don't count on him,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I don't think he ‘gets' Goddess.”

Jane called Greenberg next.

“Gee, Jane, I'm not sure that's really my kind of thing, though it's really thoughtful of you to think of me.”

“It's a
movie
,” Jane said. “No weird dancing, no thumping music . . . no leg trees.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Please, Stanley, I'd love you to be there with me. Can't you leave work a little early, take half a day off or however the police do it?”

“All right,” he relented, “I'm sure I can work something out.” They agreed they'd drive in with Daniel and Laura.

Jane had no trouble at all convincing Ginny and Rhoda to come. Penny, for whom Jane hadn't held out much hope, said immediately that she couldn't possibly leave Alan and Rebecca alone on a school night. Doris declined, saying she was just too upset about Arthur, and Louise said she couldn't possibly have a good time at such a thing, what with all her troubles regarding Ernie. Jane said she understood.

 

The building that contained the screening room looked like any other office building on that stretch of Seventh Avenue. Jane, Greenberg, Daniel, and Laura had driven into the city in Greenberg's car, which he'd parked at the Quick Park, at Jane's suggestion. Then they'd cabbed over to the address Goddess had given Jane. As they got out of the cab, Ginny and Rhoda appeared from around the corner.

Inside the building, a security guard directed them to the tenth floor.

“Isn't this exciting?” Ginny said on the elevator.

“I wish the others had come,” Rhoda said, half to herself.

Stepping off the elevator, they found themselves in a corridor with a glass wall at one end. On the glass was lettered
CINEMA STAR STUDIOS.
They went through a glass door and were greeted by a receptionist at a plain desk.

“I'll tell Goddess you're here,” she said, and went down a corridor and around a corner out of sight.

Goddess appeared a moment later. Jane blinked. Today Goddess was dressed as a medieval lady, in a wispy gown and cone-shaped headdress.

“Love it!” Rhoda said.

Goddess chomped on gum. “Damsel in distress, right?” She gave a bored laugh. “Follow me.”

She led them down the same corridor in the other direction, opened a door on the left, and ushered everyone inside. The room was smallish, with perhaps ten rows of seats like those in a movie theater, except that these seats were not connected, instead set about a foot apart, and there was plenty of leg room between the rows. The room's entire front wall was a screen about a third the size of a normal movie-theater screen. At the back of the room was a window through which the film would be projected.

“Sit down,” Goddess instructed them, and started for the door.

“Won't you be staying?” Jane asked.

Goddess gave Jane a scandalized look. “I
never
watch my own films. Never. I'll be hanging out in the room next door.” She pointed. “One door up. Oh, and bathrooms are a few doors farther down, on the right.”

So the six of them sat in a row. The young woman who had greeted them appeared in the doorway. “Everybody ready?” They all said yes, and she switched off the light and closed the door. The room was pitch-black. After a moment, the screen burst to life, a vivid aerial view of lush New England countryside in the autumn—a lake, a covered bridge, a church—accompanied by lush orchestral music as the credits began to roll.

 

 

Goddess

 

Ben Affleck

 

“Ooh, I didn't know he was in this!” Rhoda burst out. “I have such a case of the hots for that man.”

Everyone shushed her.

 

Darlene Hunt

 

ADAM AND EVE

 

Jane found the film totally engrossing. It was, as Goddess had said, a surprisingly traditional story about a mother (Darlene Hunt) and her drug-addicted daughter, Eve (Goddess), who decided to come home from New York City and pull herself together to help her mother, who was dying. Affleck was superb as Goddess's brother, Adam, a successful attorney who had never left the small Vermont town, and who resented Goddess because, despite all he'd done for his mother, despite his having been there for her all these years, when his mother learned she was dying, it was Goddess she asked for.

In one scene, Affleck confronted Goddess with his hurt and resentment, and Jane fished in her purse for tissues to wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. From down the row, Jane heard someone sniffle and thought it sounded like Ginny. At the height of the scene's moving confrontation, there was a faint sound at the end of the row, then a crack of light appeared as someone opened the door.

What an odd time to go to the bathroom
, Jane thought, then shrugged to herself.
When you gotta go, you gotta go
.

After a little over an hour and a half, the film ended, and the receptionist reappeared and switched on the light.

“I hope you all enjoyed the film,” she said, sounding as if she said this often.

“Magnificent,” Jane said to Greenberg. “She really is a genius, don't you think?”

Greenberg looked impressed. “I gotta admit, she did a great job. Had me teary-eyed a few times there.”

“Let's go congratulate her,” Laura said, and Daniel, who clearly had also enjoyed the film, nodded in agreement.

The receptionist smiled, and said, “She's just down here,” and indicated the same room Goddess had, one door farther along the corridor.

They all filed out of the screening room, Jane leading the way. She knocked on the next door. There was no response, so she knocked harder.