by Sarah Hualde
CHAPTER TEN
Kat caught Lydia mid-chomp. “You need protein, not sugar.”
Lydia frowned, “Yes, but I’m not eating that ham and cheese sandwich. It’s a relic.” Kat followed Lydia’s gaze toward the vending machine and shuddered. “Besides, I chose the one with peanuts.” She waved her plastic wrapped prey before Kat’s nose.
“Have you had anything decent to eat today?”
Lydia shrugged, “A smoothie this morning, a churro after the race, lunch here yesterday, some toast, and now this.”
“You’ll get sick.” Lydia chomped down the last of her meal and tossed the trash. “At least drink water.” Kat pulled a bottle out of her huge purse. Lydia accepted it and guzzled down half the contents. “Any news from Ethan?”
“I was just about to give him the phone when the doctor called him over.”
“What phone?” Maven appeared as if by magic, next to the vending machine.
“They found a cell phone near the bee yard. We think it could be Averie’s.” Kat said.
“Why would her phone be out near the bees?” Maven asked. She slid her debit card through the vending machine’s payment slot and punched in a four-digit selection. “She’s already finished her bee video.”
“Maybe she was filming a different one?” Lydia sipped the rest of her water and avoided eye contact with Maven. She didn’t want Maven to know she still had the cellphone in her purse. Lydia didn’t know why but she didn't believe Maven should have the phone.
Kat winced under the pressure of Lydia’s awkward silence. She wasn’t sure what Lydia was thinking, but she wanted to get her alone so she could find out. Maven eyed both women as she dug her purchase out of the vending machine slot.
“Oh look, Lyds, Ethan just stepped out of room 24b.” Kat pointed around the corner at a stranger exiting a room. “See you later, Maven.”
“I’m sure we’ll bump into each other.” Maven said and watched the women walk away.
“Nice thinking. Did you see Ethan?” Lydia leaned in close and whispered to Kat.
“Nope, but I do now.”
Ethan was leaning against a wall, running a hand through his hair and talking to himself. "Hang on a second. He's praying."
“That can’t be good. Do you think Averie’s…” Lydia clicked her tongue and shrugged.
Ethan spotted his wife the instant his head raised. Lydia rushed to him, his arms opened to receive her. It was terrible news, Lydia knew it. She squeezed her husband and ran a soothing hand through his hair. Kat was watching, or Lydia might have kissed him. She hated when his work kicked him in the spirit.
“Hey there, Kat,” With one arm around Lydia’s shoulder he reached out the other and waved at their friend.
“What’s the news?”
Lydia faced Kat with stern, sad eyes. She hadn’t wanted to ask Ethan that, just yet. “Don’t worry Lyds. She's alive. Just sick. They've released her from the psych unit. She's alone in a room, under observation. Someone has poisoned her. They're trying to figure out with what. But whatever it is, it's making her crazy. The doctors are flushing out the poison, but it’s not an easy journey. They have her strapped to her bed, and she keeps calling out for her husband.”
“She has a husband?”
“Not as far as we know,” Ethan answered Kat.
“Maven’s just around the corner, you could ask her.”
“Good to know. I will.” Ethan fixed his hair and stood straighter, looking for Maven.
“What can we do?” Lydia asked, staring into her husband’s eyes.
"Maybe you can sit with her. She seems so lonely and scared. I can't let just anyone in there with her, and she's had no real visitors."
“What about Maven?”
“I haven’t seen Maven, all day. I’m happy she’s here. Her cousin could use her support.”
Lydia kissed Ethan’s cheek and sent him over toward the vending machines. Kat sat in the lounge and spent a few minutes texting her family while Lydia went into Averie’s room.
“She’s resting, but I don’t think she’s asleep. I’m glad you’re here. Ethan was certain you’d show up. Lara, right?” The nurse typed notes into her laptop and only raised her eyes a moment to smile.
“It’s Lydia.”
“The sheriff’s wife?”
“That’s right.” The nurse rolled her computer console out the door as she assigned Lydia with her task. “Talk to her. Stay calm and talk to her.”
Lydia sat down beside Averie’s bed. She slid her hand over the wrist straps that restrained her arms. The underbelly of Averie’s wrists bore red, chapped marks. From the bruising, it was plain Averie battled the restraints. Tears puddled in the corner of Lydia’s eyes.
*****
Flora and Ivy met Emily Prior at the town circle. Flora arranged for a small vigil. Hobo Joe, who slept the summer away in the circle, helped set up. Being a mother with safety on her mind, Flora talked Emily into using solar lamps instead of candles for the vigil.
Emily and Ivy, with the help of Hobo Joe, activated and set out solar candles and lights. One hour until sunset gave plenty of time for them to soak in the rays and dam up the energy. Emily sent out group texts inviting everyone she knew to the vigil. She posted Evites on social media though Flora suggested otherwise.
“Averie’s fans deserve to honor her,” Emily said when questioned. She hoped Shane Mons would show up and either fall in love with her or make her recent flirt insane with jealousy.
Ivy stayed out of the inviting. She wanted little to do with a vigil. It would attract every bored and anxious person in Honey Pot. Averie was a celebrity, of sorts, but she wasn’t an actress or rock star. In fact, people may show up hoping to see her cousin Maven and not to honor her. Worse, Averie’s stalker could find out and decide to attend.
Ivy despised hypocrisy. She knew double-minded people were two times as likely to stab you in the back. To her shame and regret, Ivy had been on both sides of the stabbing before.
The only person Ivy dared to invite was Mr. Mike. She hoped his presence would keep Emily from making spontaneous and stupid choices. She didn’t tell Emily of her guest, but she knew he’d be there.
“I think we’re all set.” Emily clapped her hands. She had triumphed. The party was happening. She needed to go home and make herself beautiful.
“I’ll keep an eye on all of this until you get back,” Hobo Joe volunteered. “Just bring me a sandwich and a soda.”
“You’ve got it, Mr. Joe.” Ivy waved farewell to the town fixture and went home with Flora.
*****
Lydia sang to Averie. Thirty minutes of chatter and idle monologue grew burdensome and lonely. She'd switched to hymns. Hymns were always her fall back when times grew anxious. In the middle of Farther Along, Averie's eyes fluttered open and fixed on Lydia. She sang with her eyes closed, while patting Averie's arm in rhythm. Lydia didn't notice the woman watching her
A sob shook Averie's chest releasing a massive gravity. She wanted to call out. Her throat, dry as old and forgotten love poems, wouldn't obey her pleading. She couldn't force even a syllable to escape. She lay thick and useless watching an almost stranger sing. With her mind, Averie begged Lydia to notice her. She only half believed the woman would see her struggling. The nurses and doctors hadn’t noticed. It was their job to see their patients. Surely, one nutty middle-aged housewife wouldn’t see her.
Surprising both parties their eyes met. Lydia, unembarrassed, scooted closer to Averie's face. "Can you hear me, Ms. Averie?"
Reckless tears washed down Averie's cheeks. Just a blink would alert Lydia. Just a blink. But she couldn’t manage it. She forced her eyes to look demanding and desperate. Lydia, already aware, pat Averie’s hand. “I’ll ring the nurse.”
Lydia reached the buzzer and pressed it, never letting go of Averie’s hand. Averie couldn’t handle being alone again. One tiny twinge of her index finger responded to Lydia’s touch, and the woman squeezed it in kind. “I know.
I know. Help is on the way.”
With that shred of knowledge, with that tasting of hope, Averie's lips shivered into the slightest of smiles, and the whisperer fell back to sleep.
*****
An announcement squeezed past static and over the waiting room intercom. Kat had been watching Maven file her fingernails and chomp on fruity gum. At her summoning, both ladies in waiting leaped to their feet. Purses scattered across the tile. “Maven Arbogast, please make your way to the nurse’s station.”
Crouching in a huddle, the waiting women shoved all their belongings back into their respective receptacles and exited the room. “Did they call you, too?” Maven turned haughty eyes toward Kat and straightened her tangled purse strap. Kat stood stunned, a snarky comment away from a hospital hall throw down.
Lord, help me. Kat surrendered in a forceful exhale. I don't know why that woman doesn't like me, and I'm struggling not to despise her back.
Lydia ran up to Kat just as Maven sauntered away without urgency. “She’s not that bad.”
“Oh, did I speak aloud?” Kat grabbed her shirt collar in shock.
"Didn't have to. It's smeared across that hypercompetitive face of yours." Lydia retrieved her bag from Kat’s arm.
“I’m not that competitive.” Kat followed Lydia from the hall into the fresh air, alive with the blaze of sunset. “Besides what would I be competing with her for?”
“No idea. Maybe you’re not the one who feels threatened. Maybe you’re just reacting to the threats.”
Kat huffed and clicked the van’s unlock button. “Let’s get you some real food.”
*****
Berna cleared up the cheese and wine hour dishes. She pulled her trusty carpet sweeper from the coat closet and sifted up the crumbs. Using a purple rag, she wiped off every flat surface then reorganized the magazines and board games. Her evening routine soothed her frazzled nerves.
Berna was sure if a person could see how she felt they'd see a chewed up, twisted, mess. A hairball stuck to the bottom of a muck boot. Exhaustion loomed over her. Making time for her normal nighttime routines pacified her almost as much as her celebratory nighttime tea.
The festival closed for the year. Only the annual paperwork and emails remained. Vendors carted off their remaining goods and packed up their booths during the last hour. The sunset and the lavender ceased being a stressor and transmitted its tranquil scent. Berna made her customary evening tea and set it on the clean coffee table.
Maven left Berna a package of loose-leaf tea with a thank-you card on her bedside table. Olive discovered it and brought it down when she had finished tidying Maven's room. The weekend was so oppressive for Maven, and her cousin. Berna felt guilty accepting a gift, but even guiltier turning it away. She scooped the crushed leaves and seeds into her tea diffuser and pondered over the fair. Berna lowered the diffuser into its awaiting steamy bath.
Brown rivers of tea seeped from the diffuser and etched their way through the clear water. Berna retrieved honey and her nighttime cookies. She put them on her favorite platter and served them to herself as if she were a guest at her inn.
Olive burst into the Hive’s common room, carrying Dandelion the cat. Berna set her tea down and hurried to her employees shaking side. “What is it?”
“Henry! Come help me.” Olive set Dandelion down inside the screened porch area and shut the half door. “Hurry!”
“What has the goofball done, now?”
Berna tromped behind Olive. She knew the way to the backfield. It was where her goats grazed when not in the barn. Henry, her somewhat unhelpful farmhand, slept in a small camper van near the field. Berna fed him and did his laundry, along with the guests. In return, he acted as protector to her fields.
“I don’t wanna say. You aren’t going to like it.” Olive ran worried to the Hive’s golf cart.
Berna groaned. If Olive were aware Berna wouldn't like it, the situation had to be bad with a capital B. "Well, tell me anyway. I can't help if I don't know what I'm getting into."
Olive started up the golf cart at the same time she wailed. “I found something.”
“Where?”
"In a guest's room." Olive sniffled and snorted between gasps of fear and sorrow. Berna didn't want to fire Olive. Olive was a simple, sweet, and usually sensible girl. Henry was a poor influence on the young thing. However, if she'd been stealing from guests, there was no way around it. Maybe Berna didn't want to know. "It fell from the mattress when I changed the bedding. I thought nothing of it. I wanted to throw it away. But Henry said…"
"What was Henry doing in the guest rooms? I told him to be outside helping Thad with the festival." Berna clung to the side of the cart as Olive charged uphill and over dirt clods.
“He brought me a churro….” The last syllable of Olive’s churro elongated into a piteous whining sob. The cart ricocheted from bump to bump as Olive bawled. Berna took the wheel from Olive’s shaking hand and steered the rest of the way to the motor home.
“Okay, let’s see the damage.” Berna burst into the camper and wished she was a woman who cussed. She could use some potent profanity to sum up the stupidity she witnessed curled in a pile on the floor.
Olive paced the dirt outside the vehicle/home. Her sniveling and gasping wafted into the tiny space and up Berna's spine. The proprietor wanted nothing more than to smack sense into the girl and shake the senselessness out of the man on the ground.
"What have you done to yourself?" Berna felt Henry's pulse, which raced. His face was clammy and his pupils huge. "You didn't look sick this afternoon. You carried booths without getting winded. You cannot make me believe this is a sudden illness. So, spill! What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?" Olive's volume rose while Henry mumbled and smacked his dry lips together.
“Get the cart. We have to take him to Ashton.”
*****
Ivy watched Emily smooth her short skirt for the millionth time. The skirt was way too tiny. Ivy wondered where Emily had picked it up. She texted Lydia again without success. She hoped Lydia knew what was happening. Flora had stayed at Lydia's with Scout. Her family brought dinner over, and all seven of them dined at Lydia's table. Then the Brandes family went home, leaving their mother behind to watch over the infant.
More people attended the vigil than anyone had foreseen. The solar candles and torches ran out in the first few minutes. People used cell phone apps or Zippo lighters as their illumination. Emily would say something right at 8:30 and then she hoped one boy would lead a song.
Other than that, Emily had no plans. That meant, to Ivy's paranoia, that the teens were intending on taking over the circle once the out-of-towners dispersed. Ivy imagined them drinking and smoking and making other unwise choices all night. Ivy wanted to go home and get back to Scout.
Faces from the festival popped up in the crowd. Some folks believed this was an annual tradition, a farewell to the festival. A man far across the lawn caught Ivy's attention. She shivered. Flora wasn't around. Shane Mons waved from a distance. He smiled but did not approach. Emily beamed in on Mr. Mons. Her face twinkled.
“He came!” She pulled at her skirt hem, again, and took a huge breath of night air. “Do I look okay? You don’t think he’s here for the vigil, do you?”
“Why wouldn’t he be? You invited him here for that purpose.” Ivy crossed her arms and turned her back to the man across the yard.
Emily blushed and cooed. “Well, I hoped he’d be here to see me. You used to be better at things like this. You've lost your edge, Ivy. I'm not sure what happened to you!" Emily didn't intend to be cruel but her words flung about her like caution lights. Ivy stared at her friend, hoping she'd pick up on the issue.
“I got pregnant and had a baby.”
"Oh, that." Emily took out her compact and reapplied her lipstick, Treachery in Cherry Tarte. She turned a flirtatious shoulder at Shane Mons and waved. Mr. Mons lifted a hand in response but did not walk over. "What's wrong?" Emily patted her hips, tugge
d at her shirt, and checked her eyeliner. "I look cute, don't I?"
Ivy was about to comment that Emily looked young when a loud teenager whooped and picked Emily up by the waist. It was all Emily could do to keep her underwear from peeking out the edge of the skirt. The young man dropped Emily, as quickly as he’d scooped her up, and ran off. Emily’s cheeks flushed, and she snickered to herself.
“That must be the other man.” Ivy tried to keep an eye on the yelling boy. He weaved through the crowd and vanished among them.
“Oh hush.” Emily straightened her skirt again.
“Stop preening. You look great.” Maven wedged herself next to Ivy and smiled at both girls. “Will you tell your friend she need not try so hard? She’s adorable.” Emily blushed and put her arms at her sides.
“Maven, it’s so nice of you to come.” Ivy exhaled, an adult friend had come.
“I couldn’t pass it up. Visiting hours are over and where else could I be? Averie needs all the well wishes and positive energy we can give her.” Maven squeezed Ivy’s forearm and before Ivy could argue Maven was milking the crowd. "Do you have a microphone or a megaphone? I want to say something."
Emily clicked her tongue and glared darts at Ivy, but she turned her sweetest smile and voice to Maven. “Right here,” She pointed and led Maven to the picnic table. "Sorry, we don't have a stage. I was going to stand up on this."
“Not a problem. I've got this. You find that cute kid that was flirting with you before I showed up. I’ll do all the talking.”
Again, Emily smiled sugary sweet at Maven and then turned spurned eyes upon Ivy. She walked over to Ivy and hissed, “I guess you are nothing but an old mother hen, now. Well, cluck cluck, this chick is gonna fly. See if you can stop me.”