Chapter Ten

Jessie and Liz arrived first. Their morning classes were over and Jessie had the day off from the gym. Liz’s job at the computer lab didn’t start until three. Melissa had to take a late lunch break but she was scheduled to show any minute. The bear and her entourage had yet to arrive. Jessie was cooing over Veronica, and Liz was inquiring into the status of Anne’s thumb.

“It doesn’t hurt as much,” Anne replied.

“Dude, I’m so glad you got the bear back,” Dave told Jessie she sat on the corner of Hilton’s desk in the control room.

“She’s lucky because if Amelia didn’t show I would’ve taken a glue gun and sealed her vagina shut permanently,” Hilton said sweetly.

Anne looked at Hilton, clearly shocked. She was standing next to Hilton viewing the last playback of the show.

“It’s the part below the waist that gets her in trouble,” Hilton said. “I’m just looking out for the rest of the world.”

Dave got a funny look on his face and Jessie instinctively 120

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grabbed her crotch. “Dude, I don’t even have one but that sounds painful.”

“You nearly ruined my life,” Liz piped in. She was sitting next to Lillian, who was telling a story about her second cousin’s nephew who looked just like Jessie.

“I’m so sorry,” Jessie said. She actually looked remorseful, Hilton thought.

Hilton added the final touches to the Web site for the day’s broadcast. The people who listened to the stream on the Internet were adamant about getting all the details, and they called the station if they weren’t satisfied. She added the Halloween graphics Anne had decided on and typed a public service announcement warning everyone to be careful. It was funny how things, through a series of painful convolutions, worked their way out. She wondered if her life would ever find that peaceful sort of resolution.

They were all still talking but had moved into the reception area of the studio. Lillian had finished her story and was off for a Pall Mall. Dave was showing his girlfriend, the mail girl Gwin, the basic features of his D-800 control board. Hilton figured he planned on showing her a lot more later on. Melissa arrived, followed shortly by a woman and her small child.

“Hello, I’m Sarah Carthart and this is my daughter, Tiger Lily.”

“Nice to meet you,” everyone said in near unison.

“This is Melissa,” Liz said.

“Oh, yes, the lost bear’s owner,” Sarah Carthart said.

Hilton thought the woman looked like a younger version of Sigourney Weaver. The child must have been adopted; she appeared to be Chinese. About two, she was small and had long black hair and was clutching the bear to her chest. This had the potential to be heartbreaking. Hilton wished she could run out and buy the little girl every bear in Seattle just so she wouldn’t have to face this loss. The only problem with that was that this bear was the only one she wanted.

Jessie leaned down so she was eye-to-eye with the little girl.

“Hi, I’m Jessie. I was the one who lost the bear.”

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Tiger Lily nodded and held the bear tighter.

“She thought the bear was abandoned so she wanted to take it home and keep it safe,” Sarah explained.

“I was helping someone get their dog and when I came back Amelia was gone,” Jessie told her.

Hilton was watching Melissa, who didn’t appear to be paying any attention to Jessie but rather was staring at Tiger Lily.

Tiger Lily spoke up in toddler English, “I lost once, very scared. My new mom Sarah, she find me and made it all better.

Bear lost and scared. I save bear.”

“Very good, Tiger Lily, now give the lady her bear back,” Sarah prodded.

Tiger Lily looked sadly at the bear, kissed its forehead and whispered something in her ear. After a moment she thrust it at Melissa.

Melissa gave Amelia a squeeze and the held the bear up to her ear. “Tiger Lily, Amelia has decided she wants to stay with you.

She says you need her more than I do. Is that all right with you?”

Tears welled up in Tiger Lily’s eyes and a huge smile crossed her face. “Really? She said that?”

“Yes,” Melissa said as she handed her the bear.

Melissa was looking pretty stoic, Hilton thought. Tiger Lily was dancing around the room with her bear while Sarah thanked Melissa profusely. Anne and Hilton both happened to look over at Dave, who was just then dabbing his eyes with the corner of his T-shirt.

“Oh, my God, will you look at him,” Anne whispered to her.

“He’s sensitive,” Hilton whispered back. “And besides, he’s scoring major points with his new girlfriend.” Gwin was patting his shoulder.

“Boy, we know who’s going to wear the trousers in that family.”

Hilton laughed. Life was so odd, she thought. How could one silly inanimate stuffed animal affect so many lives in such a positive way? It was downright weird. Hilton took one last look at Amelia Bearhart as she was carried from the room and wondered how many more lives the tiny fuzzball would change. Well, at least she wasn’t like those evil little Gremlins in that horror movie Hilton 122

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had seen as a child. Amelia was soft and cuddly and probably supplied hours of anxiety-free sleep.

“So I thought I’d pick up some candy for the Halloween party tonight,” Anne said. “Want to come with? This is kind of new to me.”

“Of course. Kids are so cute,” Hilton said, watching out the reception area window as Tiger Lily and her mother made their way to the elevator. The way Sarah Carthart looked at the daughter made Hilton’s heart hurt. Her mother had looked at her that way. She still remembered how it felt to be so unconditionally loved. The last time her mother held her hand was on the beach that fateful day. Hilton sighed heavily.

Anne touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go shopping.” They turned around to bid the others goodbye. Jessie was rubbing Veronica’s shoulders as she finished up the day’s paperwork and Dave was now showing Liz, Melissa, and Gwin more control room wizardry.

“We reconvene at one-thirty, correct?” Veronica said. “We still have to decorate and get the pumpkins carved. I wish I’d had more advanced notice of this soiree, but I think we can still pull it off in grand style.”

“You did just meet Jessie yesterday,” Anne reminded her.

“I know but some things are meant to be,” Veronica said, looking goo-goo-eyed at Jessie.

“I think I’m going to be ill,” Anne said.

Hilton gave her a little shove. “Come on, this is good for her. If she’s in love she’s a lot less of a pain in the ass as a producer.”

“You do have a point there,” Anne said. They headed for the elevators.

They got back to the house at one-thirty after having made great time at Fred Meyers gathering up a shopping cart full of candy, decorations and six pumpkins. They chose the biggest pumpkin they could find for Veronica. “Let’s see the maestro carve a swan or something out of this,” Anne said, lugging it to the front 123

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porch. She set it next to the bale of straw sitting there. “What the hell?”

“I’m sure Veronica is inside sewing a scarecrow to go with,”

Hilton said.

Anne screamed, “Ouch!” as the big pumpkin rolled onto her thumb.

“Are you all right?” Hilton asked.

“Yes, I just bumped it.”

They got the rest of the stuff out of the car and made trips to the foyer where they stashed it all. Shannon was sniffing the bale of straw and then apparently decided it would make a good bed.

She climbed on top of it and resumed her napping. Anne scratched her ears and then followed Hilton into the house where someone was screeching in pain. Hilton could only imagine.

“I have to pee,” Anne said, looking around. Hilton pointed to the first-floor toilet that had now officially been repaired. Jessie had dealt with the plumber that morning.

“I’ll go see what the ruckus is about,” Hilton said. She left the front door cracked so Shannon could come in when she was finished pretending she was a farm dog. She found Jessie leaning over the sink with her hair under the faucet. She was screaming as Liz told her to stay still. “What the hell is going on?”

“Jessie’s got corn syrup in her hair and I’m trying to get it out,”

Liz said.

“How did that happen?” Hilton asked. She looked around the kitchen at the huge bowl of colored popcorn balls, decorated sugar cookies and three boxes filled with what looked like craft supplies.

Jessie pulled her head out of the sink. “I was cleaning up the pan with the corn syrup in it and I got an itch.”

“Which she scratched with her sticky hand and what do you know it’s stuck in her hair,” Liz added.

Hilton chuckled.

“I want to get it out before Veronica comes down. I don’t want her to think I’m a dweeb,” Jessie said, pulling at the blob of syrup still stuck in her hair.

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“Where is Veronica?” Hilton asked.

“She’s upstairs in Gran’s old sewing room making a skirt for her witch’s costume. She wants to be scary when she hands out the candy,” Jessie replied.

“She’s making a skirt,” Hilton said incredulously.

Anne came in the kitchen. “Why do you have a bunch of sheets soaking in black dye in the bathtub?”

“What?” Hilton said.

“Veronica is dyeing them black so we can cut designs in them.

You hang them up and the design utilizes inside lights,” Liz replied.

“Ouch!” Jessie said as Liz attempted to pull the corn syrup out of her hair.

“What’s that?” Anne said, leaning in to take a closer look.

“Corn syrup,” Jessie replied.

“You’re going to have to cut it out,” Anne said.

“Really?” Jessie’s eyes got big.

“I could probably do it,” Anne said.

“You cut hair?” Hilton asked.

“Well, I do a little trimming on my own.”

“I always wondered how your hair looked so perfect all the time,” Hilton said.

“It’s maintenance,” Anne said, touching the bottom of her curly locks. “Come on, let’s get this out of Jessie’s hair before Martha Stewart on steroids gets wind of it.”

“Let’s hit the library. She won’t look for us there. Liz, you run defense. Do we even have scissors?” Hilton asked. She eyed the craft boxes. “We do now,” she said, plucking out a pair of orange-handled scissors.

“I think I’m having a panic attack,” Liz said. She sat down at the kitchen table.

“Why?” Jessie asked, still pulling at her hair.

“I’m supposed to be cutting out these designs for the pumpkin carving. Then I’ve got to find that old black kettle that’s somewhere in the depths of the garage and get some dry ice. I have to 125

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go to work at three and pick Melissa up at six-thirty and get back here to finish helping,” Liz said, draping her head in her hands.

“I’ll find the pot and get the dry ice. You sit here and cut out the designs. Have a cup of tea and go to work,” Hilton instructed.

“And we’ll deal with Veronica,” Anne piped in.

Hilton led them to the library. For the first time in her life she was embarrassed at the state of the place. It was far more tattered than the living room ever had been. The old brown and gold brocade couch and matching chairs were tattered and the Mexican blankets bought from the flea market to cover up the worn furniture could definitely use a washing. Shannon slept on the couch a lot and it was covered with white fur. The old oak and glass bookcases had held up somewhat, but the books lay in messy stacks as if someone had carelessly rooted through them.

Anne didn’t appear to notice. “Jessie, sit on the ottoman and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“Hey, Jessie, why don’t you work on fixing this room up as well,” Hilton suggested.

“Really?” Jessie said. She sat up straight as Anne surveyed her head.

“Yeah, you did a great job on the living room.”

“This room has great lines. What with the oak paneling and the big windows it could be a real showplace,” Anne said. She clipped out the corn syrup.

“I’ll call the accountant and tell him what we’re up to,” Hilton said.

“Okay, it’s going to be shorter,” Anne said. “But it’s the only way I can even it out.”

“Can you take some off the top?” Jessie asked.

“Jessie, she’s not a real hair stylist,” Hilton said. She sat on the couch. Shannon must have heard them because she came inside and jumped on the couch next to her.

“I think I can do that,” Anne said, standing back and then coming in and making a few snips here and there.

“Speaking of haircuts, I know someone who’s going to the groomer this week,” Hilton said. Shannon barked.

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“Is that as bad as going to the vet?” Anne asked. She clipped a little more off the top of Jessie’s head.

“Not quite. The groomer is mobile so she comes to the house.

Shannon doesn’t get as upset and she gets a lot of treats.”

“Did you want a little trim?” Anne asked.

“What do you have in mind?” Hilton asked.

“Well, I was thinking about taking off a couple of inches. That would get rid of all your split ends and encourage healthy growth.”

“Do it. She did a great job on my hair,” Jessie said, admiring her hair in the oval beveled mirror that hung over the fireplace mantel.

Hilton took a handful of hair and studied the ends. It was badly damaged. “All right.”

“Come sit on the ottoman.” Anne combed out the snarls and then began to cut.

“There you are!” Veronica said as she entered the den.

“Where’s Liz?” Hilton asked. Anne was putting the final touches on her trim job.

“She had to go to work.”

Hilton glanced down at her Swiss Army watch, thinking sure she did. It was only five after two and her shift didn’t start until three.

“You look great!” Jessie said.

“Why, thank you,” Veronica said, swirling around to better show off her ensemble.

“I can’t believe you just whipped up a skirt,” Anne said. She was still seriously studying Hilton’s hair.

“Oh, it was easy. I took some old sheets, dyed them black, which takes no time at all and then dried them. Hilton, you really need a new dryer. That thing is archaic. Then I sewed a hem and a waistband. Your grandmother’s sewing machine, however, is top of the line. I fed some elastic through the waistband. And there you have it. Wear a long sleeved black sweater, buy an inexpensive witch’s hat and off you go.”

Hilton felt exposed, like she was on display. She was glad that she had company because being so close to Anne sometimes made her kind of giddy. She swore Anne’s cologne sent her endorphins into overdrive.

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Anne stood back. “I think it’s even.”

“Thank you,” Hilton said. She got up and surveyed herself in the mirror over the fireplace. Her hair did look better.

“Veronica, I seriously think you could give Martha Stewart a run for her money. Your talents are being wasted as a radio show producer.”

Veronica was still and quiet for a moment. “Thank you, Anne.

You’re the first person who has ever really appreciated my home-making talents.”

“You do totally rock,” Jessie said.

“Well, that’s enough about me. Let’s get to decorating,”

Veronica said.

Hilton stifled a groan. Anne touched her hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, like having your toenails removed.”

Later that evening as they all lay around the living room on pillows and afghans watching Tales from the Crypt on DVD, Hilton thought the afternoon and evening had been more fun than she imagined possible. It was certainly better than last year when the entire evening had been spent doing Ecstasy and finding Nat in the arms of a woman dressed as a belly dancer.

This year was wholesome in comparison. Veronica and Anne handed out candy. The carved pumpkins turned out to be amazingly creative. The black cauldron spewing froth and the decorations in the windows made the old Victorian house look downright scary.

Veronica had allowed them to order takeout Chinese instead of whipping up something herself, so after the trick-or-treaters were gone they had time to relax. Hilton lay next to Anne on a blanket.

They propped up pillows against the couch and covered up with a throw. The night was chilly. Hilton felt Anne’s thigh next to hers and she couldn’t help thinking if this was her life she would die happy.

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Date: 2015-04-20; view: 673