Read Lilac Avenue Online

Authors: Pamela Grandstaff

Lilac Avenue (36 page)


I didn’t mind,” Claire said. “Besides, there wasn’t time for me to prepare anything.”

“When Hannah got married I remember she wanted you to sing, but you were out in Hollywood and couldn’t make it back,” Alice said. “I guess family doesn’t seem so important out there with all those movie stars.”

“Excuse me,” Claire said, while pretending to see someone she knew behind her Aunt Alice. “I’m needed over there.”

Claire couldn’t say she hadn’t come back for Hannah’s and Sam’s wedding because her heart was broken over it, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide it. She wouldn’t have been able to make it through a song for bawling her eyes out.

It hadn’t occurred to Claire that Maggie would ask her to sing at the wedding. Now that it had, thanks to her Aunt Alice, she found that although it didn’t bother her, just the fact that her aunt would go out of her way to try to make her upset about it became her emotional tipping point.

Claire
made her way to the ladies’ restroom so she could cry in private. She didn’t want to ruin Maggie’s reception with her own emotional drama, but she couldn’t stop the tears. She also didn’t want to ruin her makeup, so she held tissues under her eyes and took deep breaths until she felt calm again. Afterward, she repaired her makeup while she listened to the happy sounds of people enjoying themselves at the reception.

They were playing “Groove is in the Heart” by Dee-Lite. It reminded her of going to beauty school in Pendleton, which was not one of her happiest years. She was married to the do-less Pip, for one thing, and they were living with his caustic mother in her ramshackle house out Possum Holler.

Shortly after marrying the handsome but dim-witted Pip, Claire knew she had made a horrible mistake, but because of her stubborn, immature pride, she refused to admit it. She had been determined to prove everyone wrong about Pip, when she should have run screaming to the nearest judge to beg for an annulment.

Instead, Claire had decided that getting Pip away from his abusive mother and all the people who looked down on him in Rose Hill would give them a new start. Running away to California had been the start of an adventure, all right. Claire was reminded of the Chinese curse which wishes upon its unfortunate recipient an interesting life. That had certainly been the curse for her.

In California people had teased her about being a hillbilly. Her accent seemed to equate with stupidity, so she had lost it as fast as she could. Whenever she visited home that comfortable accent had quickly returned to her speech, but she still felt like a stranger in her own hometown. She may sound like them, but she still didn’t feel like she belonged.

Claire looked at herself in the mirror.

‘Are these my people?’ she asked herself. ‘Do I really belong here?’

Those questions only made her feel lonely and miserable. If these were
not her people and Rose Hill was not her home, maybe she didn’t belong anywhere. Maybe she had forfeited her right to call this home through lack of time served.

“Claire,” someone called from the lounge. “Claire Rebecca Fitzpatrick, are you in there?”

It was Sister Mary Margrethe.

“Anne Marie Rodefeffer is upstairs demanding to see you,” she said. “I told her under no circumstances could she come downstairs, so you’ll have to go up. She was very insistent, and quite rude, but I was very firm with her.”

“I have no doubt,” Claire said. “Thank you, Sister. I’ll go up right now.”

 

Chapter Ten - Saturday

 

When Claire reached the nave, Anne Marie was impatiently waiting. Although her frozen face gave no hint of her feelings, her arms were crossed in a clinch and she was tapping her foot.

“You bailed on me for a wedding?” Anne Marie said.

“What do you want?” Claire asked her.

“You single-handedly ruined my seminar, Claire, and now I find out you’ve viciously maligned me to the press,” Anne Marie said.

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. “If you don’t want bad things said about you, maybe you should treat people better.”

“The spa staff left,” Anne Marie said. “Half of the seminar atten
dees have gone, and Gwyneth asked me to leave the Inn. You have created some incredibly bad karma for yourself, you know. You will be very, very sorry.”

“Just like Courtenay?” Claire said. “Just like Mamie?”

She was gratified to see a look of surprise and fear. It quickly turned to fury.

“How dar
e you accuse me of such a thing!” Anne Marie said. “Your reactive mind has clearly been infected by the collective consciousness of evil. You are in great spiritual danger, Claire.”

“You have very curious spiritual beliefs, Anne Marie,” Claire said. “They seem to change depending upon what’s most convenient for you in the moment.”

“I may still be able to help you,” Anne Marie said, “but you have to be willing to open your mind and let me.”

“Like you helped Mamie, when you provided the tea that killed her?” Claire said. “The same tea that almost killed Meredith? Or when you and Knox had Courtenay murdered?”

“That’s an outrageous accusation,” Anne Marie said. “I had nothing to do with any of those things. I am a spiritual conduit to the divine; my ministry is about sowing love, not hatred.”

“And you being in Rose Hill this week is a complete coincidence.”

“Serendipity is a divine coincidence,” Anne Marie said. “But you wouldn’t understand about that. You’re caught up in the material world, a shallow, ego-centric existence that can only bring you pain and disappointment. I can save you from that, Claire. Recant your story and I’ll make it very worth your while.”

“It’s possible nothing can be traced back to you or Knox,” Claire said. “But there’s also a slight chance you t
wo goofed up somewhere. If I can figure that out, then someone else may be able to prove it. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the police look into it.”

“The darkness has invaded your soul, God help you,” Anne Marie said. “You’ll be hearing from my attorneys.”

“Bring on your lawyers; I didn’t sign anything. And I have lots of witnesses who didn’t sign anything, either. Be sure to look at those confidentiality agreements Joy gave the spa staff. I think you’ll find none of them are binding because the names are all fictitious.”

“You have no idea how stupid you are,” Anne Marie said. “By the time my attorneys are through with you, you’ll wish you had ended up like Mamie or Courtenay.”

“That will make a great quote for my follow-up story,” Ed said, from behind Anne Marie, where he had just stepped out of the shadows.

Anne Marie whirled around.

“Who in the hell are you?”

“I’m Ed Harrison,
editor of the
Rose Hill Sentinel
,” Ed said. “I spoke with you on the phone yesterday. Or at least, I attempted to.”

Anne Marie’s stilettos clicked on the stone tile of the nave as she fled the church.

“I’m surprised lightning didn’t strike her when she came inside,” Ed said.

“Thank God you were there,” Claire said.

“You were doing fine on your own,” Ed said. “I just wanted her to know there was a witness.”

Claire’s heart was pounding and her face felt hot.

“She sure acts like someone with a lot to hide,” Ed said.

“They’re horrible people,” Claire said. “She and Knox have no shame, and no conscience, either one of them. There’s no telling what else they’ve done, or what they’re willing to do next if someone doesn’t stop them.”

“Eve called me,” Ed said. “I sent her a copy of my story and she showed it to her editor. They’re sending her here to do a feature on the federal investigation of Congressman Green, Knox Rodefeffer, and the mayor. They also want to run my story about Anne Marie on their web site, which has a huge national readership.”

“That’s great news,” Claire said. “But back up a minute. Did you say Eve is coming here?”

“I asked Sean to draw up divorce papers,” Ed said. “This way I can make sure she signs them.”

Claire didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she took a deep breath.

“I probably should get back downstairs,” she said.

“Hey,” Ed said, as he gently took her by the arm. “They’ll be fine without us for five minutes. Let’s sit down somewhere so you can catch your breath.”

Claire felt the pull of her hostess duties, but Ed was insistent, and she dearly wanted to get off her painful feet, which were not used to being crammed into cheap heels.

“C’mon,” he said. “The world won’t end if you aren’t there holding everything together.”

He pulled on her hand. Claire followed him into the sanctuary, now dark except for a few spotlights on the altar and the statue of Mary to the side of it. He led her into the back pew and they sat together.

“Take your shoes off,” Ed said. “You deserve a break.”

Claire kicked off her shoes and felt the cool wood floorboards, worn smooth from over a hundred years of parishioners’ footsteps, beneath her bare feet.

“I’m just going to check my voicemail,” Ed said.

Claire could hear “Love Shack” by the B-52s playing in the basement. It reminded her of the summer after her sophomore year of high school; one night, out at the lake, she had a drunken encounter with Sam, while his girlfriend, Linda, was away at cheerleading camp. He woke up the next morning wanting to pretend it never happened, while poor Claire had fallen in love.

Claire would rather put her hand in a fire than hurt Hannah in any way, and besides, that was a long time ago, way before Sam returned from the war and married Hannah. As far as Claire knew, only Sam, Scott, and she knew about that. Was that something she ought to tell Ed? It made her physically ill to think about telling him.

“Do you mind if I call my printer?” he asked her. “I need to check on the proofs I submitted.”

“No, you go on,” Claire said.

While Ed made the call, Claire leaned back and looked at the stained glass windows, which depicted the greatest hits of the New and Old Testaments.

The music changed to
The Sundays playing “Here’s Where the Story Ends.” It reminded Claire of going to the pool with Hannah and Maggie the summer after their Jr. year of high school. Pip, who was several years older than they were, was a lifeguard, and Claire had thrown herself into seducing him like it was her full-time job. It hadn’t been difficult to persuade him. Claire wished she had picked someone else. Her life would have turned out so much differently.

Her marriage to Pip had taken place in the courthouse in Pendleton with only his mother
Frieda and her drunken friend Flossie as witnesses. Neither Claire, nauseated with the fear that she was making a huge mistake, nor Pip, who was still traumatized from fainting during their blood test, had felt very romantic. At the time, Claire was estranged from her family and friends over her relationship with Pip, and she didn’t even want to tell anyone they were married. Back then she had believed it was a daring, romantic adventure. Looking back, all she could remember now was how alone and scared she felt.

Ed put down his phone, picked up her hand, and held it in his.

“I can’t quit thinking about you,” he said. “I keep wondering where you are and when I’ll see you again.”

“That’s really sweet,” Claire said. “But I’m kind of a mess right now.”

“Maggie told me I should give you time to get your bearings,” Ed said. “Is that what you want me to do? I’ll do whatever you want me to, Claire. I think that you and I are on the brink of starting something good, and I don’t want to screw it up.”

“You won’t screw it up,” Claire said. “That’s my specialty.”

“I know you were surprised to find out I’m still married to Eve and I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to hide anything, or have any secrets from you,” Ed said. “And I want to know everything about you, not just the things everyone else knows.”

“That scares the he
ll out of me,” Claire said, as she withdrew her hand. “I’m not sure you would like what you hear.”

“It
can’t be that bad,” he said.

“I’m not who you think I am,” Claire said. “So just please make sure it’s really me you’re interested in, and not some person you imagine I am. Remember
, I’m the person you caught in the hallway the other morning, before all the natural beauty got applied.”

“I love how you look in the mornings when we run,” Ed said. “When you don’t have on any makeup, your hair’s a mess, and you haven’t had your coffee yet. You don’t need all that primping, you know, not for me.”

“But I like playing with makeup and hair,” Claire said. “Plus I’m good at it, and it’s my business. Besides, if I quit fixing myself up, it would be like I’m giving up on something, that I no longer care enough to fight the battle.”

“You know that battle is ultimately unwinnable,” Ed said. “I want to know the Claire that’s eventually going to be gray and wrinkled. I’m looking forward to sitting on the front porch with her.”

“Let’s get one thing straight right now,” Claire said. “This hair will never be gray and this face will never be wrinkled; not while I’ve got a dime in the bank.”

“Tell me your secrets,” Ed said. “I can handle them, I promise.”

“There are things I’m not proud of,” Claire said. “I’m not sure you’ll understand.”

“I’m not naive,” Ed said. “Whatever has happened in the past made you the wonderful person you are now. We’ve all made mistakes.”

Ed’s phone buzzed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really have to get this.”

The music changed to Annie Lennox performing “Why.” It reminded Claire of arriving in Los Angeles with Pip. At the time Claire had not been able to afford the additional cosmetology training she needed to become licensed there, and a strip joint down the street from their ratty apartment had been the only place willing to hire her without it. They didn’t care if she had a license or not, as long as she could make all the strippers look just like movie stars.

That club was where she had met Sloan, back then known by her real name, Tammy Jo Hogsett. Tammy Jo, made hard and calculating by a horrific childhood, had for some reason taken a shine to Claire, and took her under her wing. She made sure all the girls paid Claire in cash up front for
doing their hair and makeup, and had once pulled a knife on a customer who mistook Claire for a working girl.

How could she tell Ed that story?

Claire had been terrified of Los Angeles and hated working at the strip club. The part of the city in which they could afford to live was noisy, dirty, and the locals were frequently violent. She was disgusted by the drunken men who yelled demeaning things at the women while they danced, and the day-to-day drama behind the scenes could get violent in a flash.

Some of the strippers were good people stuck in a bad situation, and Claire got along well with most of them. She quickly learned not to loan anyone money and she refused to try the drugs the addicts offered, even
though they made fun of her. She turned down the free drinks offered by the club bartenders, remembering her father’s warnings about drugs being slipped into them. If her father, the chief of police in Rose Hill, had known where she was working, he would have driven out there, put her in the car, and brought her straight home. Although she had been tempted many times to call him to come get her, she was too ashamed for him to know what she was doing.

That song ended and “
Mysterious Ways” by U2 began. It was popular the summer Tammy Jo left the club to work as a dominatrix for a shady guy named Sergio. During that time she rented a room to Claire and Pip, who was doing odd jobs in construction work. Pip acted as if he hated Tammy Jo, when in fact, as Claire found out much later, they had begun an affair that lasted many years.

After she got tired of punishing powerful men for a living, Tammy Jo moved on to starring in pornographic films for a really sweet former client, a producer named Vincent, who was madly in love with her and promised to make h
er a star. Claire ran errands and did Tammy Jo’s hair and makeup, but she avoided the shoot sets as much as possible. It was a sleazy atmosphere. Although the film crew, actors, and actresses were all comfortable with the sex, drugs, and drinking that accompanied every shoot, Claire never got used to it. Vincent called her “my little nun,” because she was so straight-laced. Claire was more scared than principled; she was just afraid of what might happen if she let down her guard for one minute.

Vincent
let Pip and Claire live in his pool house, and Pip worked for him as a handyman. Pip and Claire were both paid in cash, lots of cash, and it was fun to have enough money to do anything they wanted. Claire bought a bright red sports car and Pip bought a pimped out pickup truck. Claire had a blast buying jewelry, clothes, shoes, and handbags; anything that caught her eye. They furnished the pool house with new furniture and expensive electronics. Pip became addicted to video games, and played late into the night while Claire watched the late night television talk shows. They turned into night people, and rarely woke before noon.

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