by Kim Harrison
New jewelry, she thought wryly as the stone swung when she bent to get her purse and dug about until she found her meds. The click-click of the top coming off was familiar, and she hid the rattle of the pills in case Haley looked over. She took one, washing it down with the sweet coffee before dropping the vial back in her purse and edging the diary to cover it. Exhaling, Meg leaned back in her chair, to study her reflection. The stone was warm against her, but the chain was cold, like her curls, and she liked how it felt against her.
Sipping her coffee, she waited for Haley to come back.
Eleven
A hazy warmth rose from the lily-pad covered water, green with life and placid with contentment. The lake lay pressed under the heady afternoon sun, fractured by the slow trickle of water from Haley’s oars as she lifted them one final time and stowed them within the rented rowboat. Meg sighed happily, the comfortable lassitude soaking into her until the stress of yesterday’s whirlwind had been expunged to leave only the good parts. Fingers shifting her stone pendant back and forth along the gold chain, she felt as if she never wanted anything other than this forever.
“Meg, could you hand me a napkin?” Haley asked. Her tan face was scrunched up in an annoyed distress as she stared at a spider that had crawled out from under the gunwales.
Immediately Meg sat up, startling as the nearby frogs into a scattering of water and motion. The frogs were everywhere. Their singing was unusual this late in the spring, but it only added to the surreal feel to the morning. The harsh slide and clatter of the cooler’s plastic lid seemed fake compared to the utter submersion of water, frogs, and moist heat.
Winter seemed to puddle about her fingers as Meg pushed aside the tray of sushi and slushy lemonades to find a condensation-wet napkin. Her back ached pleasantly as she stretched to hand it to Haley, and the woman took it, looking posh in her white sundress and hat as she squished the unfortunate arachnid coming out from a crack for some sun.
My hero, Meg thought dryly as Haley surveyed the rest of the two-seater rowboat for any other spiders before balling the napkin up and dropping it on the algae-stained floorboards.
Haley settled back, and slowly the peace of the day exerted itself again. Meg had slept late, falling asleep quickly and never waking up even once, exhausted by yesterday’s shopping capped off by an extravagant salad and two glasses of wine at Swanks. She barely remembered the evening apart from how everyone had treated her with a gratifying respect and deference. Even the walk home was sketchy, with only the memory of laughing at something Haley had said to tell her they had done it…something to do with the empty street and chickens.
She’d woken to the soft sounds of Haley making coffee to find that though Rorry was gone, it was obvious that he’d been there; there was a pile of bags in the corner from their shopping. Meg and Haley had eaten breakfast on the open-aired balcony, and it was so pleasant that Meg actually enjoyed the overly sweet coffee that Haley had made for her. Even using Haley’s cinnamon toothpaste instead of her usual mint didn’t seem so bad.
It had been Haley herself who had quashed the idea of another shopping day, instead asking Meg what she wanted to do. Boating on the quad’s recreational pond/drainage area had been a stammering, hesitant suggestion, but Meg was exhausted. To her surprise, Haley had fixated on the introverted activity with the intensity of a bull terrier on a rat, arranging an upscale picnic basket to be picked up at the local grocery and calling in a reservation at the boat rental. “A Meg day!” the woman had said brightly before finding a second sundress for Meg among her clothes and pronouncing it perfect.
No people, no stress, a Meg day, Meg mused, feeling grateful as she trailed a fingertip into the lake while they slowly lost momentum. They weren’t the only two out here among the frogs and lilies, but they were the best dressed, for sure.
Her new waves were a cool brush of sensation on her neck, and she felt pretty in Haley’s borrowed dress, the yellow and red reflecting the strong light. She squinted at Haley from under her new white hat, bought off a dusty rack at the boathouse. Haley had an even wider-brimmed hat, and she looked amazingly together as she sat at the stern of the boat and soaked up the sun. It was lazy and serene, hot and sleepy, beautiful with the frogs everywhere as they bumped about the water lilies.
Smiling, Meg shifted her attention to the other boaters. Most were puttering about in the middle of the small lake, lazing about as they were, hands trailing in the water to cool themselves. It looked like a painting, and Meg’s artistic soul woke, having been stunned to a shocked silence by yesterday’s madcap, extroverted bonanza.
“Gotcha,” Haley said, a delicate, sandaled foot shifting to rub out another spider.
A painting of spider eradication, Meg thought, musing that though Van Gogh never put spiders in his paintings, she would. She could call it Spider Lake.
Smiling privately, Meg sat up and took her lemon slushy out of the cooler, leaving Haley’s there when the woman shook her head. She was getting used to the absolute tartness that Haley liked in almost everything she ate, and she was glad now that she hadn’t told Haley that she didn’t like lemonade. The afternoon was so perfect. Why ruin it with the want of a Dr. Pepper?
Happy, Meg trailed a hand in the cool water, trying to find the impetus to get her phone from her purse and take a picture. She’d like to paint this so she’d never forget it. She’d like to paint this while sitting in the sun at Haley’s apartment.
“What a fabulous idea this was,” Haley said, her attention on the moth she’d just flicked off the gunwale and into the water, but there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm, and Meg felt a flush of relief. “I’m always so busy that I forget to take the time to slow down. Thank you for this. It’s just what I needed.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Meg said hesitantly. “I wasn’t sure you would like it. I was afraid you were only doing it because I wanted to.” Haley’s eyebrows went high, and Meg rushed to add, “The busier it is, the more you come alive. I thought you’d hate coming out here.”
“Oh!” Haley shrugged, her attention going to her white sandals, pristine on the green, softly damp bottom of the boat. “Well, a lot of what you saw yesterday was me trying to get settled as fast as possible. Now I can relax. And this is wonderful.” Sighing, Haley looked out across the lake toward the campus, busy now that it was after noon. “Being out here, watching the world from a quiet point reminds me of home. Maybe that’s why I don’t let myself slow down.” Haley met Meg’s eyes. “I’d miss it too much. I think Rorry misses it more than me, but he’s younger. Feels everything more deeply.”
A thrill of angst went through Meg. She’d been so bold yesterday, agreeing to stay over when she hardly knew them. But that was something she wanted to change. Stirring her lemon slushy, she feigned disinterest. “When is Rorry coming back?”
Haley’s smile was tinged with a fond anticipation. “Not sure,” she said as she opened the cooler and took out her own slushy. “Sometimes it takes a while to talk to everyone. Settle on an agreement, and the, ah, commute isn’t always reliable.” Her eyes flicked to Meg’s. “After a year of being gone, I expect that Rorry won’t be that eager to get his ducks in a row and get back here.”
“He misses it, huh?” Meg said, remembering how his eyes had lit up when he described his home of mountains and ocean.
Haley nodded. “But this here? Out here on the water, with no one but a few friends to enjoy it with? This comes surprisingly close.” Haley’s eyes went distant on the shore. “Surprisingly,” she almost whispered.
“Tell me?” Meg said, and Haley’s focus sharpened on her. Thinking she’d done something wrong, Meg stiffened, but then Haley’s attention rose from the necklace Rorry had given her to go distant and dreamy on the weedy, rough side of the pond again.
“The night is alive with parties,” she said, her voice seeming to be soaked up by the heat and lilies. “Especially in the summer when the wide doors are pushed back and the night is allowed to come in. Th
ere’s music and dancing. All kinds. No one thinks it odd when you steal away to avoid the gossip, and no one puts you on the gossip list for doing so. My father has an expansive garden that runs down to a pond like this. I spent much of my childhood rescuing the frogs that had come up to the house looking for the moths that gathered at the lights, not knowing that they would dry out and die.” Haley’s attention returned to Meg. “I always thought it odd. They strove so hard to reach the very thing that would kill them. But that is the way of things. That I tried to rescue them was one of the reasons I was encouraged to become what I am.”
Meg nodded, not knowing what else to do. “Teach language arts?” she finally hazarded, and Haley laughed.
“God, no. That’s what I do, not what I am. No one wants to leave Perfection. I have a knack for it. And we do need resources, things we can’t do or make on our own. Me being here helps rectify that and ensure that things at home go on the way they should.”
Still not understanding, Meg sipped her lemonade, feeling it cold all the way down.
“But I miss it,” Haley said, looking more wistful than Meg had ever seen. “The ocean current keeps us warm all year, and the skies at night are breathtaking, mirrored on the glassy water when conditions are right so it’s as if you are sailing through stars. The buildings are all made from the local stone, and they almost glow at night. We have a gardener who paints with plants, and his canvas is always changing with the seasons.” Haley went still. “The iris would be blooming now. They are amazing against the pillars and fountains.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Meg said, thinking her voice seemed coarse after Haley’s pure description. “You should go home your next vacation day.”
Haley’s distant gaze came back, an uncomfortable pinch to her eyes. “I get home quite often, actually, but you know. Work. I can’t do it from there.” Haley laughed ruefully, but her shoulders were slumped, and for the first time, she looked depressed.
Meg nodded, not knowing how to react. Perfection sounded utterly pastoral. They’d need an incoming source of money from their young people, and a teacher, especially a language arts teacher, would require a big university to get the students. Haley and Rorry were probably supporting not just themselves, but their families as well.
Looking at Haley, Meg was suddenly struck at her flawless beauty, even when unhappy and missing her home. Meg looked down at her gold necklace and borrowed dress, even her haircut and painted nails a gift from Haley. Austin’s ring on her pinky looked coarse next to her perfect nails, making Meg feel as if she was faking what Haley and Rorry truly were. “Maybe next time you go home, I can come with you,” Meg said hesitantly. “I’d love to see your dad’s garden.”
Haley’s smile was wan. “Maybe.”
The brush-off in her one-word answer, made her feel as if she wasn’t good enough to bring home. Shoving the ugly feeling away, Meg searched out her phone. “You mind if I take a few pictures? I need a prompt for class tomorrow.”
“No. Go right ahead.” Haley was all smiles again, but a hint of her mood lingered. “Send me the best one. I’ll share it with Rorry. He thinks all I do is work and shop.”
Thinking that she was blowing it, Meg snuck a pill under the excuse of getting her phone. The vial had slid under her diary, and again she promised herself that tonight she’d write down when she’d been taking her pills.
This is good, she thought, relaxing as she began to catalog the afternoon in a series of shots, beginning with a close-up of the rowboat’s thole before moving on to a frog on a lily pad, and then pulling back to a wider angle showing boats and the campus behind them. She could use her method to fragment the boat, or maybe the lily. Haley, reclining in the sun, could be reduced to a few curving lines. Yes, this might work, she thought, warming to the task. If her technique worked on familiar objects, it would shine if she could translate it to subjects that were already uncertain.
The hum of her phone in her hand shocked through her, and Meg almost dropped it. Gasping, she looked up, laughing at herself as she realized she’d been so engrossed that she’d forgotten Haley was even there. But her amusement ground to dust when she saw who was calling.
“Austin?” Haley guessed at Meg’s sour expression.
“Yep.” Meg looked at the picture of Austin wearing a silly hat and sipping a peppermint milkshake. “Do you mind if I take this?” she asked, embarrassed. “If I don’t, he’s going to keep calling.” Meg’s attention went to the distant boathouse, relieved to see he wasn’t standing at the end of the dock, watching her.
“Sure, I don’t mind.” Haley unshipped the oars, and Meg hit the accept key when Haley’s first strong pull angled them back into the shade that hung about the edges.
Head down, Meg put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Austin. I told you I’d call you Monday. I’m out with Haley right now,” she said tightly, the peace of the day shattered.
“Please don’t hang up.” Austin sounded anxious, and Meg rolled her eyes to make Haley smile. “I made a mistake, and I’m so sorry. I never should have moved out.”
He’s missing me? she thought, a flash of vindication warming her as they slipped into the shade. “No, you shouldn’t have, but you did.”
“Look. I want to talk to you about moving back in,” he said, and alarm slid through her, unexpected and potent. “Can we have lunch?” he rushed. “Just the two of us. Wherever you want. We could have milkshakes at putt-putt, or coffee, or maybe we could take a drive out to Manchester and hit that art studio you love. It won’t be busy on a day this nice.”
He wanted her to go back to the way she’d been, and her shoulders rose as she tried to wall off the fear. Her familiar haunts seemed tame after last night’s dinner at Swanks, a part of her she wanted to leave behind. “I told you, I’m out with Haley. I’ve already got lunch plans,” she said, her downed gaze alighting on the cooler of sushi. “Austin, I need some space while I find myself. You calling every day isn’t exactly giving me the time I need.”
“That’s just it,” he said, the concern in his voice making her feel defensive. “I’m worried about you, Meg. I know it’s what you want, but just let me see you to make sure you’re okay. Coffee, maybe. Five minutes to be sure you’re happy. That’s all I ask.”
But five minutes might be enough to drag her back down to what she had been trying to escape for three years. Now that she was almost there, she would not lose focus. She would not go back to anything less.
“I’m fine,” she said, believing it to her core. “I’m happy.” I am happy, she thought in surprise. I’m happy without him.
“I’m sure you are,” Austin said. “But I need to see it—”
“I’m hanging up now,” Meg said, not liking that he made it sound as if he thought her happiness was a delusion. “Please don’t call me again. I love you, Austin, but I need some time to think.”
“Meg.”
Meg jumped when Haley reached across the boat and grabbed the phone right out of her hand. “Meg and I are moving to Rio to become strippers. Bye, bye!” Color high, Haley hung up. “That should do it,” she said, putting the phone into Meg’s slack grasp.
For three heartbeats, Meg stared at her, then she began to laugh. Haley joined her, and their twined voices skipped across the lily pads and out to the center of the lake. Slowly Meg’s smile faded, but the good feeling lingered like a sunbeam.
What am I doing here? she wondered. Haley was so perfect, so posh. And she was so messed up.
“Everything okay?” Haley said as she took her hat off to fan the heat away. Her golden hair was a mess under it, and even that made her look attractive.
The last of Meg’s smile vanished. She didn’t want to ruin it by talking about a bad boyfriend, but Haley had heard half the conversation. “Yes and no,” she hedged. “Austin wants to talk to me. Make sure I can survive without him. He wants to move back in, and honestly, I don’t have a legal right to stop him. It’s his name on the lease.”
“Mmmm.�
�� Haley pursed her lips. “You know…you’re more than welcome to stay with Rorry and me for a while.”
Meg’s head jerked up, twin feelings of angst and anticipation bringing her shoulders tight. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
But Haley only smiled wider. “Impose? Are you kidding? Rorry won’t mind, and I know I don’t. He might even take the couch so you can have that second bedroom. It’s just until you get your own place. Right?” she soothed. “We can go over this afternoon and get your things. Pull them out before Austin finds out what’s going on.” Haley’s expression shifted. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“I’d love to.” Meg’s pulse hammered, but she’d say just about anything to get that disappointed look off Haley’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. But you don’t have to come over. I don’t have that much I want to bring, and I don’t want you there if I run into Austin. I can do it myself. I want to. I should.”
Haley seemed to hesitate. “Are you sure? I don’t mind. And me being there might help in case Austin gets ugly.”
But Meg shook her head, knowing that Austin would more likely sit there in shock, then get angry, if he came home and found her packing. What really scared her was Haley seeing her dark existence. “Positive,” she said, pulse fast as she remembered Haley’s abhorrence to carrying a few bags back from the mall. There was no way she was going to ask Haley to help her sort through her stuff for the parts she wanted to keep, the things that wouldn’t ruin it all. “Do you want a dragon roll?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, yes please.” Haley resettled herself, and the boat drifted back into the sun as Meg handed her one on a napkin. She desperately wanted to find the earlier perfection of the afternoon, but Austin had spoiled it.