“I’m going to put on something more comfortable, and I’ll find one. Give me a minute.” Zip disappeared down the stairs into the boat, and some low, classical music began to play. Clary couldn’t place it. She looked up at the night-dark sky. Years ago, when she was young, they’d sit on someone’s boat every night. She took another sip, savoring the alcohol’s bite.
“You like that music?” Zip reappeared in jeans and a fawn-colored, long-sleeved chamois shirt. She handed Clary a light jacket.
“I grew up on that and my parents’ old rock and roll.”
“Where’s Leefe? That’s her music, something she loaned me. We trade music and books.”
Clary frowned down at her glass. “They’re in some sort of emergency at the day care.”
“Oh, right. Heard about it in a meeting today.”
“What’d you hear?” Clary put the jacket around her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I drove her to the day care tonight. I’ve been so busy with Jesse that I’ve been out of the loop.”
“They had an electrical fire in Milwaukee and brought the people into South Port, plus a couple of other towns.” Zip shrugged. “Right now, in this state, it’s the touch of death to mention anything political with clients, and somehow the homeless have become political.” Zip stretched her long legs onto the chair next to her. For a moment, the way she moved and talked reminded Clary of Jesse.
“Are you as tall as Jesse?”
Zip laughed. “Yes, but she won’t admit it. We used to play basketball, but I routinely beat her, and she quit. Never saw anyone hate to lose like she does.” Both of them smiled. “Do you mind if I ask about Leefe?” Zip cocked her head at her.
“She said you stopped by her house, now and then.”
“She’s the best company I’ve found in this town. Quiet but smart. Never knew anyone that knew as much about books as she does, and I love her taste in music and her silver work.”
“I can’t believe she’s managed to survive.” Clary sipped her drink, half-listening to the music, and saw that Zip was waiting for more. “I’m certain everyone’s told you my sad story so we can skip that. I came home to help Maureen. Leefe was unexpected.”
“Kaye hoped you might want to see Felice again.”
Clary shook her head. “No,” she said with a deep breath and gave Zip a straight look.
“Felice and Kaye. What a combination.” Zip frowned down at the deck and then went to the bar. “You looked a little upset down there.”
Clary bent for her drink to hide her face, her eyes smarting in a breathtaking mood swing. “Just an odd day.” She watched Zip mix a complicated drink. “You’ve known Leefe longer than I have.”
Zip disappeared behind the bar for a moment and then popped up again, holding a bottle. “Leefe’s as level and honest as they come. Refreshing, isn’t she? I kind of had a little thing for her at first, got drunk, and made a move one night. That was a mistake. She set me straight in about eight seconds. It was fairly devastating.” Zip shook the drink, laughing a little.
“Where’s Kaye?” Clary said.
Zip held up her hands. “Who knows?”
“How long have you two lived together? I saw Kaye when I was home the last time, when my folks sold the house. I didn’t meet you, but I heard about you.”
“I opened my office about that time and met Kaye. The year after that, we bought a house together. Happy ever after.” Zip took a healthy drink, but Clary heard the sarcasm. “She’s probably at the club, getting hammered. She’ll call when she gets too drunk to drive.”
Clary looked away. “I’m sorry,” she finally said.
“You grew up with her, didn’t you?”
“She was the same age as Jesse and Sharon. I was two years younger.”
“Kaye talks about Sharon now and then.”
“What do you know about Sharon?”
“Only what Kaye’s told me. I know Kaye gave her money to leave,” Zip said, straightening in her chair. “And she was hell-on-wheels.”
Clary tensed. “Did she tell the police?”
“You must be kidding. I don’t think she’s even told Jesse. Our rules don’t apply to them. They both color outside the line, except when Jesse’s in uniform. She follows the rules then.”
“But it would have helped Aunt Maureen and Uncle Joe. You’re right though, about the different rules.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. I forgot that you were related.” Zip settled into the chair next to her.
“It’s an old story.”
“I know some of it. For example, Sharon found Kaye and Jesse in bed together, and that’s what started the whole leaving thing. Somehow, Leefe’s involved but I don’t know how. She won’t talk. In fact, that’s all I know, or as much as Kaye will say, no matter how much she’s had to drink.”
The words cut Clary like pieces of glass. “You have to be kidding. Kaye and Jesse?” She held out her glass, slightly sick to her stomach. “Could I have another drink?”
“Sure,” Zip said. “I’ve said too much, haven’t I?”
“No, it’s just something I didn’t know. We were all close, and that would have broken Sharon’s heart, I guarantee you.” She turned in the chair. “If that’s true.”
“You have a point. Kaye loves her stories, that and alcohol.” Zip stared at the deck. “I had Kaye in recovery last year, and she did great for about half of a year, but went back to drinking with a vengeance.”
The onboard phone began to ring, and Zip disappeared downstairs to answer. Clary walked to the rail. She’d never seen that coming. Kaye and Jesse in bed? She could almost hear another piece of Sharon’s puzzle fall into place.
The music changed to a song by Eva Cassidy, spinning Clary backward to Leefe sleeping on Aunt Mo’s deck the night Felice had brought her home. This song had been playing. Clary studied the drink in her hand with a sudden thought. Maybe that’s what went on between Kaye and Jesse, a Felice moment, or sex that didn’t matter. No, all of them had been too tight for that to happen. She shoved her hand in her pocket and rolled the silver crane around with her fingers.
“I have to leave. Kaye’s at the club and needs a ride.” Zip said, behind her.
“Thanks for the talk.” She handed the glass to Zip. “I didn’t drink it. Sorry.”
All the way to Maureen’s she shifted through memories of South Port. And just as she’d never thought of Kaye with Jesse, she would never have believed she’d be here, alone, in Wisconsin at this point in her life. There were all sorts of homelessness.
She changed clothes, laid the yoga mat on the deck, and went through her routine, determined to work her way out of this mess. Afterward, with another drink, she stretched out on the deck lounge beneath the blanket in the cool, dark air. The whiskey dulled her nerves, but she could feel shadows lurking inside.
Worn out, she wondered where love went when it went away.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Guess what?” Beverly squeezed Leefe’s shoulder as she went by. “This is it, the last meal. They’re going home.”
“Really?” Leefe lifted Devi to a tall stool at the counter and fixed her plate. Devi had helped them clean last night, and Leefe let her sleep in this morning while she and Albie got up with the sun to open the kitchen for breakfast. They’d fed the children oatmeal on the back porch, and Albie was outside with them now. Leefe handed Andy a fresh pan of fried potatoes and then glanced at the calendar. She had to see the lawyer this afternoon.
The day care kitchen smelled like hot morning sun, body odors, and breakfast. She stepped into the serving line beside Andy, glancing quickly over the crowd. The room easily handled kids, but the adults crowded it and made it feel small. Most took their plates into the TV room or to the front porch. Some sat on the steps that led to the upstairs.
“How’s Jacob?” Andy said. Over the last few days, he’d appointed himself guardian over the little blond boy, something that warmed Leefe. She pointed at the back porch.
“
Fever free for three days,” she said and placed fried potatoes on a plate, passing it to Beverly for one of two egg choices, scrambled or fried. “Have you seen Clary?”
He started to answer, but someone interrupted. “No. Not those. I want scrambled.”
Startled, Leefe turned to the impatient, gravelly voice from her worst nightmares. Beverly scooped the fried eggs back into the pan and added scrambled. Mrs. Ellis’s mean eyes studied Leefe, and then widened briefly. Something inside Leefe backed away. The brother was there as well, both of them older, grayer, and he’d lost most of his hair. Old survival habits kicked in, and Leefe kept her face neutral. The minute they’d gone on to the meat pans, she leaned close to Beverly’s ear.
“That’s my adoptive mother, Mrs. Ellis, and her son.”
Beverly pulled in a breath but didn’t look up. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I’d never forget that voice or face.”
Beverly handed the next plate back and quickly looked down the line.
“I’ll bet she still has a gun in that purse,” Leefe said, taking another plate.
Beverly quietly traded places with her oldest daughter and slid through the line of servers. Leefe saw her go out the front door where two policemen were talking on the porch. Despite her pounding heart, she calmly ladled more potatoes onto the plate. Her gaze flicked to the adopted brother. He dawdled over the sausage or bacon, and Mrs. Ellis poked him in the back, hard.
“Hurry up. I’m hungry.” Mrs. Ellis was loud enough for everyone to hear her cruel voice. Leefe glanced at her again. She was significantly thicker. Her thin, stringy gray hair hung in tangled clumps, and she appeared to have lost most of her teeth. A cheap patent leather purse hung from her arm.
Leefe stood as tall as she could. This is my place, she thought. Mrs. Ellis looked at her again, but Leefe turned as if she didn’t recognize her, and added another spoonful of potatoes to Devi’s plate. Both policemen were now inside the day care, leaning against the front door.
*
Clary drove Jesse to the clinic for her doctor’s appointment. They took Jesse in immediately, and Clary found an empty chair. Moody and tired, she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Her restful nights were gone, and she’d wake all over the place emotionally, apprehensive and sweating. Hannah had been in her dreams every night. And Leefe, always Leefe.
She’d gotten through the days with laundry, cleaning, and cooking, anything to stay busy. Yoga was helping, as had Jean’s e-mails. Apparently, the homeless numbers were relatively few where she taught, and primarily in the elementary school, but how could she have missed that? Obviously, everything but her classes had just been white noise.
Marley had finally responded with an e-mail from school. “We’re in some kind of holding pattern, but it doesn’t look hopeful. They’re fighting over a proposed charter school and the Common Core testing. And we lost another teacher. More later.”
Yesterday, she’d fixed a cold chicken and pasta salad with creamed peas from Aunt Mo’s garden for the evening meal. As soon as they’d eaten, she’d taken her boat out onto the lake, going early to avoid Zip. She’d anchored east of the lighthouse, pretended to fish, and watched the setting sun tangle with the trees above the long, sandy beach. A Jet Ski had circled her, rocking the boat hard. She’d wiped her eyes and watched a teenage girl fly across the blue-gray water on the Jet Ski. That had been her once, racing across the lake, and bits of courage had threaded through her. She’d come home and re-read the Kozel book, finding strength in his words. If these people could survive, what was wrong with her? Look at what Leefe had done.
Someone’s phone went off close to her, snapping her back to the waiting room. Leefe had left messages and a couple of texts, but Clary hadn’t returned the calls. She wasn’t going to drag Leefe into her anxiety. Still, she’d kept up with the news and heard they’d sent the stranded homeless back to Milwaukee this morning. Leefe would have her normal routine back, and today was the day she’d see the lawyer.
“Clary?” Jesse’s voice startled her. “I’m done. He released me for desk duty.”
In the car, almost home, they both noticed Mojo’s Fourth of July decorations.
Clary pointed at it. “They did a good job.”
“Remember the last year we ran that place and all the work we did? Then it rained for three days.”
“Maureen just laughed. We left that weird-looking crepe paper on for four days, and Sharon took a picture, called it abstract art,” Clary said. “I’ll bet Aunt Mo still has that photo.”
Jesse grinned. “You’re finally talking.”
Clary pulled into Jesse’s driveway. “You’ve been the walking dead.”
Jesse lost the amused expression. “Pain pills will do that.”
“Is it true that Sharon found you in bed with Kaye before she left?”
“How’d you know about that?” Jesse glared at her. “Shit, Kaye, drunk again…or high.”
“What’s the difference who told me, and no, it wasn’t Leefe. Is it true? You’d have broken Sharon’s heart.”
Jesse held up her hands. “All right, I’ll tell you but you won’t like it. It’s a bad story, Clary.”
“I don’t think like is important any more. A lot of things have happened that neither of us have liked. It scared me when you went down in that street the other night. I thought I might lose you too.” She shifted in the seat to face Jesse.
“Remember, I warned you,” Jesse said, her voice worn out. “Don’t misunderstand. I love Piper, but Sharon was special. She was a part of me no one else has ever been and still is.”
“Sharon thought you were everything, and could do anything. Just tell me. Let’s get this over with.” The wind shifted through the big oak above them, and the familiar scent of Clary’s childhood summers blew into her open car window.
“It was both of us,” Jesse said softly. “Late that winter and spring, I began to see bruises and scrapes on her arms, stomach, all over, even some little cuts. I came home early one night from Milwaukee, and before I could get out of the car, Kaye slipped inside. She told me Sharon had been seeing one of the guys they hung out with, here in town.” Jesse pulled in a big breath. “It had something to do with rough sex.”
Clary stared, flabbergasted. “What? She was involved with a guy?”
“Yeah, and he bragged about it. Kaye said she was telling me before I heard it from someone else.” Jesse cleared her throat. “Later that night, Sharon and I argued, and she admitted it was true but made damned sure I understood it was the best sex she’d ever had. She called it “experimental” sex. That’s exactly what she said, and it still makes me sick to my stomach. And Christ, no, I never had sex with Kaye. I simply slept in her bed the next night. She came in later and got in bed with me but I was so drunk she couldn’t wake me, or so she says. Sharon came in later, and lay down with us. I got up in the morning and left them there together, asleep. It was the last time I saw her.”
“Why didn’t you make her explain?”
“I tried that night, but she left me standing by my car. I know what he looks like and tried to find him, but he disappeared after Sharon left. Red-headed bastard. There might have been drugs involved. I don’t know. I was so angry…” Her eyes filled with tears, Jesse’s voice broke. “It’s like there’s something left to be done about Sharon. When the thing between you and Robin happened, it made me sick. Why don’t you make Robin explain, the same question you asked me? At least she’s alive and can tell you what happened.”
“But that’s my point, Jesse. She can’t explain. She’s dead, and you’re right, I don’t like it. You have to accept it because she can’t tell you. As to Robin, maybe someday she’ll tell me, and yes, I wonder what the hell I did…or didn’t…do but I have to let it go. However, I’m going to do everything I can to keep up with Hannah.”
A car horn sounded, and they both jumped. Piper was in the driveway behind them. Clary motioned for her to back out, and the
y traded places with their cars. Piper came back to Jesse’s side of the car.
“How’d it go, honey?” she said, reaching in to tousle Jesse’s hair.
“I’m released to desk duty,” Jesse said. She wiped her eyes, opened the car door, and lifted herself out onto her crutches. “I can’t run, but I can use a computer.”
“What’s wrong?” Piper bent and looked at Clary. “You’re both crying.”
Clary quickly touched her cheek, unaware of her tears. “There’s lasagna in the refrigerator. All you have to do is put it in the oven.”
Piper frowned. “What’s going on? Aren’t you going to stay and eat with us?”
“No. Leefe has an appointment with a lawyer today, and I want to hear what happened.”
Jesse frowned down at the ground. “You’ll be leaving soon. Be careful, Clary.”
“She knows I have to go,” Clary said. “We just haven’t had the time to talk about it.” She backed out without another word. Jesse was right. She hadn’t liked Sharon’s story. She wiped her eyes. Jesse was right about Leefe too. She had to be careful.
The clock in the car showed that it was almost time for dinner at the day care, and she didn’t want company when she talked to Leefe. Instead, she drove to the marina’s restaurant, bought a beer and a sandwich, and wandered up to the top floor.
“My God,” she said, finding a table next to the railing. Sharon and some guy and rough sex? She’d bet those were the injuries Leefe had seen. “Unreal,” she muttered under her breath and forced herself to take a bite of the roast beef sandwich, hardly tasting it. Kaye always loved a good drama. She’d even lie to create it, but this felt like truth. The guy-business didn’t bother her as much as the rough sex. It was the last thing she would have thought Sharon would choose. With a drink of beer, she made herself finish the food. She’d give anything to talk to Sharon right now but that would never happen.
Boats were beginning to leave the harbor for the evening, and she scanned the lake, silver-blue all the way to the white line of the horizon. A large lake boat passed in front of her with three men on the deck. A blonde came up from below, wearing the tiniest bikini she’d seen in years, enough to make her blink in surprise. The woman barely had clothes on and—
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