Heartwood

by Catherine Lane

  “Now? Can it wait?”

  “Mom’s already in the living room.” Beth grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the couch, where Mary sat, her arms crossed over her chest. She took a seat across from them and pointed to the highball on the coffee table. “I just poured the soda, so it should still be good.”

  She waited until he took a sip and nodded his approval. “Okay, young lady, we’re here because…”

  After a deep breath, she leapt. “So, you know Dawn’s pregnant, and the studio’s publicity department is all set to write up a press release.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Her mother pressed a palm to her chest. “The baby will be here in a couple of months.”

  “Sure, that makes sense,” her father said.

  “Yeah, and Dawn is afraid that when they do, the photojournalists and the street photographers might show up. And she’s kind of nervous about living out at Fern House all by herself.” She clenched her fist; Dawn had told her to get to that last part more slowly.

  Both her parents reacted at the same time. “No one like that is going to come up to Steelhead,” Carl said.

  “What about her husband?” Mary raised a finger to the cross at her neck.

  Beth looked from one to the other and decided to take the easy question first. “Well, Jimmy would be here. But he’s stuck in Italy. There was bad weather on the set, and the shoot had to be extended. He’s trying to get back as soon as he can, but he’s not going to make it until after the news is out.” The production lingo rolled off her tongue as they had practiced.

  Mary nodded, but her hand didn’t drop from around her neck.

  Beth turned to her father. “Dawn says we’re going to be surprised about what happens next. She says that the studio will actually set most of the publicity up. But there are some people who will show up when they aren’t invited and take pictures that aren’t authorized.”

  “If people want to see pictures of Mrs. Montgomery, they should just go to the movie theaters.”

  “Yes, Pop, that’s the way it should work, but it doesn’t always. There are a bunch of terrible magazines out there that need stories.” She shuddered as she remembered that she had been one of their biggest fans before Dawn arrived.

  “So what are you telling us?”

  “Dawn was hoping that I could move in out there for a while.” The words tumbled out in an awkward rush. Beth immediately wished she could bite them back and start again. She eyed her parents, waiting for their reaction.

  Silence filled the room.

  “Dawn was hoping…” Her mother repeated, her tone doubtful.

  “Yes.” Beth prayed she wasn’t blushing. “She’s lonely out there and, with the baby only a few months away, a little scared.”

  Mary let out a deep sigh on the couch.

  Now was the moment to roll out the line she had rehearsed all the way home in the truck. “She misses Jimmy so much.”

  “Well, of course she does.” Her father knocked back his drink and looked longingly at the sideboard, where the whiskey bottle stood.

  “You should see how sad she is whenever she hangs up the phone from his calls.”

  “He calls all the way from Italy? That must cost a fortune.”

  “They’re very much in love, Pop.”

  “Well, dear, what do you think?” Her father turned to her mother. “We can’t leave Mrs. Montgomery out there alone.”

  Beth bit back a smile. One down, one more to go.

  “I don’t know…”

  Shoot. Her mother wasn’t going to make this easy. Beth cast around for something else to say, but Dawn had made her promise that she would stop after the they’re very much in love line and let the situation take over.

  Mary shook her head repeatedly, and a coldness rose in Beth’s chest. For the very first time, Dawn might actually be wrong.

  Carl leaned in to her. “I know what you’re thinking, Mary. It makes me a little nervous too, but they’re adults, and I could swing by after work to check up on them.” Another sort of longing altogether washed over his face.

  Holy smoke! Her father had a thing for Dawn. Beth sat back in her chair. She couldn’t beat back the small smile that leapt to her lips. Dawn had been right all along, of course. Her father was going to do the rest of the work for them.

  “They’ll be fine. If Mrs. Montgomery…Dawn needs our daughter, who are we to say no?”

  Mary’s eyes narrowed. With a tiny pop, the chain snapped at her neck. She pulled away the cross in her clenched hand. Opening her fist, she looked first at the simple silver amulet and then at her husband. “It just doesn’t seem right, dear. Not any of it.”

  “Oh nonsense. This actually seems more right than Beth working as a…housekeeper or whatever she does out there. I think it is far better that they’ve become friends.”

  Her mother opened her mouth and then closed it again without speaking.

  “At least I’ll know what to tell the guys down at the yard. I think it’s a good idea.”

  Mary dropped the cross and its chain to the coffee table. “I’ll have to get that over to Brent’s to have it fixed. Actually, can you drop it off on the way home from work, before you stop off at Fern House?” She slid the necklace across the glass. There was a sharp scraping noise until her father picked it up.

  “I certainly will.”

  Her mother didn’t even look at her as she left the room. Beth knew she should be upset, maybe even afraid—her mother had never actually agreed to the move—but the knowledge that she would sleep in Dawn’s arms tonight gave her such joy, any misgivings were swept away.

  “All right, Pop.” Beth bounced up from her seat before he changed his mind. “See you tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes, dear. Be safe.”

  “I will.”

  Freedom enveloped her the minute she closed her front door. No, not my door. I don’t live here anymore. The smile became a grin that lasted so long that when she turned up Fern House’s drive, her mouth hurt.

  Dawn was waiting for her on the front stoop, sitting with her head back in that classic movie star pose. Give her a cigarette and she could’ve been on a set. As soon as Beth got out of the truck, she cocked her head and raised her hands.

  “Oh my gosh, you were absolutely right.”

  “Did you doubt me?” Dawn laughed in that low, throaty way that made Beth quiver.

  “Maybe for a minute.” Beth grabbed the arm that Dawn offered. “But then I remembered who I was dealing with, and I stopped exactly when you told me to.”

  “And then your father took over?”

  “Yes. How did you know he would?”

  “I hoped he would, that’s all. Come inside. I’ve a little surprise.”

  They moved upstairs into the master bedroom. Candle light flickered from almost every surface, and somewhere, without her knowing it, Dawn had gotten roses and spread their petals on the bed.

  “Oh my.”

  “Let’s see how many times I can make you say that tonight.” Dawn dragged her to the bed.

  After their lovemaking, Beth snuggled into Dawn’s arms, feeling the last waves of her pleasure wash over her. She had never been so content in all her life, and all she had to do was close her eyes and fall asleep in the arms of the woman she loved. When she had almost drifted off, her mother’s voice echoed in her ear. “Dawn was hoping…” She tried to push the question away and find the comfort that had been hers just seconds before.

  “Dawn?” She could hear the hesitation in her own voice. Not the time. But her own doubts couldn’t be swept under the carpet again.

  “Mmm.” She sounded almost asleep too.

  “Why me?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “No, seriously. You could have anyone, anywhere.” She raised herself on one elbow. Dawn shone with the afterglow of their night together. “Seriously, why me?”

  Dawn opened one eye and then the other. “Are you worried?”

  “Maybe a little.�
�� Her whole body tingled, but it felt good to have the question out in the open. If it went badly, though, the drive back to her parents would be an awfully long one.

  “Don’t be, my sweet. We’re good. We’re perfect.”

  “I love you.” Her heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out her voice in her own ears.

  “I know.” Dawn slid a hand around Beth’s neck and pulled her down for a gentle, quick kiss.

  Beth slid off her lips to gaze into her eyes. She hoped to hear Dawn say those four magical words: I love you, too. Surely Dawn, who knew things, even before she did, would see what she wanted.

  Instead she pulled Beth’s head down to her shoulder and snuggled into her. “You wore me out.”

  That was enough for now and for many days afterwards. Beth was learning to live in the moment, and what moments they were. The two of them—and it still was just the two of them even though the baby bump was growing daily—always seemed to be laughing at one thing or another. Dawn’s silly sketches, Beth’s burnt pot roast, the boisterous charade games after dinner. Then there was the lovemaking. Beth had never known anything so tender and sweet.

  Her father had dropped by a couple times, but he was so nervous around them that he slapped Beth on the back as if she were a buddy at the lumberyard and drove away fast enough to stir up the dust in the driveway.

  They stood on the front stoop, measuring his getaway. When he rounded the corner, Beth dropped her hand into Dawn’s. She felt as if their world in Fern House stood outside of everything and was protected by the same crazy magic that had brought them together.

  The call that brought it all crashing down came two weeks later. The studio was sending up Courtland Hyland, one of their publicity executives, to manage the first set of interviews and pictures that would introduce Dawn’s new and grandest role to the world.

  “I wish it weren’t Courtland.” Dawn sighed as she put down the phone.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s nosey and not in a good way. Rumors have it that he sells the really juicy information to the highest bidder on the side. We’ll need to be careful.”

  “We can do that. Easy-peasy.”

  Even so, when Dawn introduced her to Courtland as her personal assistant, it cut Beth to the quick. She let her gaze drop off Beth as if she wasn’t worth a dime.

  She’s an actress. It doesn’t mean anything. This is her acting.

  Beth wished Dawn wasn’t so good at it—turning her feelings on and off so easily. Either she should have twenty-five Academy Awards statuettes on the mantelpiece, or there was a core of truth in the actions.

  When anyone needed coffee or when someone left paperwork in the other room, he or she would turn to Beth. She wasn’t stupid. She hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms like a Hollywood insider, but she hadn’t really understood the strict hierarchy either. She rushed from room to room on errands, relegated completely to the sidelines. After so long in the sun, the cold there was almost frigid.

  After the interview, Courtland had them all troop out to the redwood grove behind the house to shoot the publicity stills.

  “Arch your back a little, dear,” the thin man with the camera said.

  “No.” Courtland waved him off. “We want more Doris Day than Jayne Mansfield. We are sending this to Good Housekeeping, not Playboy.”

  “What about Time and Vogue?” Dawn asked.

  Beth sighed. Despite what Dawn had said weeks ago in the writing room, she was still chasing that Time cover.

  “Yes, of course. But we need Jimmy in the shot if we want to get coverage in the biggies. The new and best role for James Montgomery. We need the baby, too. Especially if it comes out cute.”

  Beth knew Dawn well enough by now. She was fighting to keep the smile on her lips.

  “I guess I know where I stand.” Dawn paced the living room floor after Courtland had left. “It’s always about Jimmy. No matter what I do. It always has been, and it always will be.”

  Beth stood off to the side and wrapped her arms around her own chest. She had never seen Dawn like this. “They were talking about the cover of Good Housekeeping. That’s good, isn’t it?” she said softly, not sure which way to take this conversation.

  “Great.” She stopped pacing and focused all her attention on Beth, her eyes blazing with ferocity. “My condition will be the subject of coffee klatches all over the Midwest.”

  “People will be talking about it. That’s what important. At least that’s what Courtland said.”

  “Courtland doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the wall.”

  Beth flinched. Dawn didn’t use language like that. Who was this woman in front of her? Beth took a step back, even deeper into the corner. “You said you were good…with this new role.”

  “How can I be?” Dawn threw up her hands. “Everything is spinning away from me. I’ve absolutely no control anymore, and I’ve given up almost everything. Who could be good with that?” She spat the last few words out and looked to Beth searchingly.

  She needed to say something. Anything. Dawn needed to be talked down off this ledge as soon as possible. But she had nothing. Dawn almost never talked about the baby, except to Jimmy, and that was only to relay what the doctor had said. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

  Dawn raised her eyebrows, waiting, and still Beth couldn’t find a response. As the silence dragged out, a hardness seeped into Dawn’s expression. She shook her head and spun back to her pacing.

  Tears sprang to Beth’s eyes. For so many reasons, she wanted to be the one Dawn could turn to when her back was up against the wall, the one who knew what to say to keep them together. But at the heart of it all was the fact that she wasn’t in control either. In fact, the truth had hit her hard. She had way less control than Dawn did, since a curt shake of her head had the ability to cut Beth to the quick.

  She backed out of the room, wiping her eyes. The hall was dark and cool and gave her a minute to think. Maybe she couldn’t say anything with words, but she might be able to speak with actions. To remind Dawn of all the roles, the one with her was the best. She raced upstairs, through the master bedroom and into the walk-in closet.

  Before Courtland and his team descended, they had whirled through the house to eradicate all clues of their secret life. Everything was packed neatly into the back closet. She swiped the clothes out of the way to get to the boxes. If she could restore their house to the way it had been before the interview, maybe she could bring Dawn back to that point too. Ridiculous and probably stupidly ineffectual, but all she had.

  She opened the first box to find crocheted squares with white Bs and Ds in red hearts. Another was full of Dawn’s sketchbooks. She flipped through the pages as she pulled them out. Beth in every pose, planting flowers in the garden, writing at her desk, reclining, half-naked after lovemaking at the river. The box near the back held Beth’s writing notebooks. Her first story, The Tarot Card, sat on top. She hadn’t seen it since that day she had left it on the coffee table after their first kiss. But Dawn had.

  Dawn had taken a simple, childish story and turned it into a work of art. On the cover was an intricate rendition of a lover’s tarot card. The traditional angel on top was pushed way to the background so the lovers, two naked women, were the first shapes that jumped out at the viewer. Their hands reached across the width of the card to just barely touch—the chemistry between them sparking, almost alive.

  Beth looked closer and realized that the woman on the left had short hair, brown eyes, and a smaller stature while the one on the right was taller, with blonde hair and green eyes. It was them! They were the lovers. Dawn had, from the first reading, seen right through the story, and here was the proof that she accepted, even celebrated, them as a couple.

  All that churning in Beth’s stomach, which had followed her upstairs and only grown as she unpacked the boxes, subsided. It was going to be okay. No one could draw a picture like that and not feel something. Beth couldn’t expect Dawn to
switch gears so drastically without a few hiccups along the way.

  No. This was actually good. She could use the cover to start the only discussion they should have. What would come next for them?

  Dawn’s footsteps came up the stairs. “Beth? Sweetheart?” She turned into the room. Concern sounded in her voice, and regret played over her face. “Can we talk? I don’t know what happened down there. I—”

  “We don’t need to talk about that.” She held up the cover of the story and waved the picture in Dawn’s direction. Suddenly, she felt so strong and sure. “You love me, don’t you?”

  Dawn met her gaze as if considering her next move carefully and nodded slowly. “I do.”

  Beth let the joy of this moment sink in. Dawn loved her. She had said it at last. Finally.

  “I love you too. So much.” Beth had the cover off the last box, one shoved way into the back. She didn’t remember packing that one. Her hand dipped inside for more proof of their love.

  “Don’t.” Dawn jumped toward her. “That’s private.”

  But it was too late. Beth’s heart that had been so full just seconds before ran dry. At the bottom of the box were only three things, but they spoke to the true role for Dawn: rolls of cash tied up with rubber bands, a brand-new passport, and a letter written in Dawn’s own hand.

  “What’s this?” Beth asked so softly she almost couldn’t hear the sound of her own voice.

  “Please don’t,” Dawn said just as softly. “Just leave it. Close the box.”

  Beth wished she could. Close the box and go back to just moments before, when she had been so sure of Dawn’s love. Instead, she fingered the passport and finally flipped it open. It was Dawn, but a Dawn and a name she didn’t recognize at first. Dark hair, a puffed-out face, a dull expression she had never seen in her eyes. She flicked it closed and drew out the letter.

  Courtland, I can’t tell you how horrible my life here at Fern House has been these past months. The shame at what I have done, here. What I have become. You’re a friend, and so I know I can trust you—