Over Her Head

by Shelley Bates

  “Cammie, this doesn’t make sense. She’s invited to our place for Thanksgiving.”

  “Yes, but is she coming?”

  Laurie opened her mouth to say, “Of course,” but Cammie spoke first.

  “All of us have invited her, and of course you would, too. But do you really think she’d come to your house instead of Maggie’s or mine, and look at Anna across the table?”

  This is ridiculous. “We’ll have to see, won’t we? Have a good holiday, Cammie.”

  Laurie walked out the door. She felt as though a bomb had gone off, leaving her shell-shocked.

  How was it possible that people could take these rumors and speculations so seriously? It was one thing to gossip and talk behind people’s backs. It was quite another thing to act on rumors in the name of brotherly love. Hadn’t she proved she cared as much about Tanya as any of them? Who had organized the funeral supper? Who had put together the rotation of women who had been keeping Tanya company for the last week and a half? Did none of that count?

  Out in the parking lot she saw Janice talking intently with Nancy O’Day, their heads close together. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. She had to let Janice know about the proposed change in their meeting day. Why did it have to be Nancy O’Day, of all people, who was close enough to hear what would probably be a very uncomfortable conversation?

  Hanging back near the rear fender of Nancy’s silver Mercedes, she waited as Janice laid out a convincing argument for the women’s shelter. Nancy nodded her head in agreement, but Laurie noticed she didn’t commit herself one way or another—probably to have the satisfaction of keeping the mayor’s wife on the string while she withheld a decision she’d probably already made.

  Some people were so petty.

  At length Janice turned and noticed Laurie standing there. A fact that Nancy, who had been facing in her direction, had not brought to her attention.

  Petty.

  “Laurie! How are you?” Janice held out a hand and Laurie squeezed it. Even on a morning that promised freezing rain and sleet, Janice looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine in her camel overcoat with arabesques of black soutache braid at collar and cuffs. A black tapestry tam sat on her blonde hair. The whole effect was stylish and jaunty, but her eyes spoiled the pretty picture. They were filled with pain, even as she made small talk.

  “I’m fine. You look wonderful.”

  “One of the council members invited us to lunch. I’m afraid it’s a cover for a funding pitch, but because Barrett said yes, I have to go, too.”

  “Nice to see you, Nancy,” Laurie said politely.

  “I’m a bit surprised to see you, though,” the other woman said.

  “I’m here every week.” Unlike some people, who showed up in their Mercedes maybe once every two months.

  “No, I mean considering the new developments in the case.”

  “Case?” As if she didn’t know what case. Two could play games as well as one.

  “Maybe you’ve been asked not to talk about it, seeing as you’re so closely involved.”

  “That depends.”

  “You’re probably right. If I had a daughter—and I’m always so glad I had boys—I’d be keeping it quiet, too, to protect her.”

  “Keeping what quiet, Nancy?” Janice said, saving Laurie from giving Nancy the satisfaction.

  Nancy leaned in a little. “Well, I can say this to you two, can’t I? I can’t tell you how many people I’ve heard it from, even right here at church.”

  “Heard what?” Janice’s voice merely held polite interest, as if it didn’t matter to her whether Nancy passed on her gossip or not.

  “Why, about Anna being the last one to see Randi alive. I’ve been dying to ask you. Oh, Laurie, please tell me it’s not true she’s being investigated as a possible suspect?”

  From her tone, Nancy was eager to hear that Anna had not only done the pushing but dashed down to the water to hold Randi’s head under, too.

  Was everyone talking about this? Was everyone judging Anna and finding her guilty whether they had the facts or not?

  “I don’t think anyone is being singled out for investigation.” Her lips felt stiff again, as though she’d just had a shot of novocaine. “The sheriff’s office is asking everyone the same questions.”

  “But it is true that Anna saw Randi last?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Oh, of course. She was alone under there, wasn’t she?”

  “Where are you getting your facts, Nancy?” Janice asked. The perfect politician’s wife. Never take sides. She behaved as if the conversation in her kitchen had never happened.

  “Oh, all over. Everyone’s talking.”

  “You should really tell them to leave it in the hands of the sheriff’s office,” Janice said. “Talking in the parking lot after church isn’t going to solve this crime, is it?”

  “I just thought you’d like to know what everyone is saying. I know I’d hate it if people were talking behind my back about something Brendan did. Not that he’d ever be in a position like this, but you know what I mean.”

  “Anna isn’t in ‘a position like this,’” Laurie informed her in as calm a tone as she could manage. “And we’d all be better off concentrating on finding out who really pushed Randi off the bridge, not on passing on our guesses as if they were facts.”

  Nancy eyed her with that glassy china-doll smile that was part of the reason Laurie disliked dolls of any kind. Totally fake, a smile like that gave no clue as to what the person was thinking. “I’m not so sure anyone did push her off. I think the kids were just goofing around and it was an accident.”

  “Not according to the forensic evidence,” Laurie said.

  “Oh, the forensic evidence.” Nancy enunciated each syllable as if it were in a foreign language. “Goodness, you sound so official. But then, I suppose you have an inside track on the investigation, don’t you?”

  “Only what I read in the papers, like anyone else. Nick is too much of a professional to blab details, even to the family.”

  “Of course,” Nancy said with a smile that told everyone in the vicinity she didn’t believe a word of it. “Well, I have to hustle. We have a crowd for lunch. Janice, I’ll be in touch about”—she glanced at Laurie—“that matter we were discussing.”

  With a waggle of her leather-gloved fingers, she slid into the driver’s seat of her Mercedes and rolled out of the parking lot.

  After a moment, Laurie said, “You’re going ahead with asking her to be on your committee?”

  “She has skills, and I need them.” Janice’s tone was still mayor’s-wife polite. “You should see her with men. One smile, and they can’t get their checkbooks out fast enough. It never works when I try it.”

  Here was a perfect opportunity to mention Janice’s voice mail, apologize in her turn, and move on. But the words jammed in Laurie’s throat. It seemed as though everyone was talking, and all the fingers pointed at Anna. No one was saying nasty things about Janice’s son. Laurie’s instinct was to pull back, to retrench, and above all, to confide in no one.

  She may as well say what she needed to say, collect her family, and head home. “We need to move Bible study this week because of the holiday. Are you free Tuesday?”

  Slowly, her face averted, Janice pulled her datebook out of her Coach handbag. “Let me check. Yes, eleven on Tuesday is open. At Maggie’s?”

  “I need to check with her. Debbie and Cammie say they can’t make Tuesday, so keep Wednesday free, too, just in case.”

  “Call my cell when it’s set up.” She hesitated for a second, as if she were going to bring up what Laurie wanted to avoid. Laurie backed up a step and Janice’s shoulders fell. “I’ve got to run. Bye.” She hurried off to her car, a discreet beige Volvo S60 with the same stylish lines as she possessed herself, and Laurie turned away with a sigh.

  She’d done the wrong thing. Her instincts may have told her to retrench, but her heart tol
d her that Janice could be a friend, an ally where she really needed one. And now she’d not only failed to return a call that had probably been heartfelt and difficult to make, she’d just rebuffed her a second time.

  Janice probably wouldn’t allow a third.

  After lunch, she finally managed to get through to Maggie, who had obviously taken the kids somewhere to eat after church.

  “Hey,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “I’m calling about rescheduling Bible study this week. I don’t think any of us will be able to come on Thanksgiving Day.”

  “Way ahead of you.” At least Maggie sounded completely normal. “Everyone’s coming Wednesday, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. Debbie’s going to lead.”

  Laurie’s shoulders drooped. “Maggie, do you agree with this idea Debbie has about it being better for Tanya if I’m not there?”

  “I wouldn’t say I agree with it, exactly,” Maggie said slowly, “but I can see where it might be helpful. Just for a short time. Until they . . . clear up the case. I can imagine how I would feel.”

  “It would be nice if someone imagined how I feel.” Did she sound like a whiner? She hoped not. But Maggie was her neighbor and her friend. They’d shared coffee and babysitting duty and a hundred details of daily life. Surely she could say these things to her. “I heard the most awful rumors just today in church. If there were ever a time that I needed you all, myself, it’s right now.”

  “But Laurie, there’s a huge difference between needing your friends because of rumors, and needing them because you’ve lost your daughter in a horrible way. You’re strong. Tanya isn’t.”

  If that wasn’t a slap in the face, she didn’t know what was. That was the solution, according to her friends. She needed to quit feeling sorry for herself and take a look at someone who had real problems.

  “Okay.” There was nothing else to say, was there? Even if she told them Tanya was coming to Thanksgiving dinner and these excuses were silly, their plans were already made. Without her.

  “Have a blessed time.” She hung up.

  She did look like a whiner. Because of course no one knew about Anna’s sneaking out, or that her story didn’t match those of the other witnesses. No one knew how deep the fear ran inside Laurie that maybe the others were right and Anna was hiding something dreadful. Guilt stabbed her anew for even harboring the thought.

  Somehow she and Colin had to find a way to make Anna talk. That strange look in her eyes told Laurie that there was something more going on than a girl sneaking out to meet her boyfriend and getting caught. When she looked into those wide blue eyes, she didn’t see what a mother usually expected. She didn’t see honesty or love. She saw fear.

  And that deepened her own. Deep, black wells of fear that she wouldn’t allow Cammie and Debbie and the rest of them to see. Because none of their kids were in danger. Only Janice could share this with her, and Laurie had just gone and alienated her.

  Okay. Enough feeling sorry for herself. She needed to find Colin and have another talk about getting Anna into counseling. No girl of Anna’s age—or any age—should know fear like this. She had to do something, and soon.

  On Sunday afternoons Colin’s escape from the headaches of the store was to close himself in the little room he called his study. In his ancient recliner that he’d bought when he was single, he’d read the Pittsburgh papers and eventually wind up with the sports section tented over his chest as he snored.

  He’d gotten only as far as the entertainment section when she slipped inside and leaned over him from behind, looping her arms around his neck.

  “Any expensive concerts we should see?”

  “Not a one.” He folded the section and tossed it in the pile on the floor next to his chair. “What’s up? Bible study all straightened out?”

  With Colin, sometimes it was best to stick with the facts rather than the truth. “It’s a bit weird this week. Most of the girls can only do Wednesday, so I’ll skip it. Short weeks are always crazy at school, anyway.” She came around the chair to sit on the floor and lean her head against his knee. “I wish everything would just go back to normal.”

  “Define normal.”

  She waved her hands as if to encompass them, the house, the town. “Anything is better than the way we’re living right now. Everybody’s talking about Randi. And about Anna being the last one to see her. People seem to be getting the wrong idea.”

  “We don’t know Anna was the last one to see her.”

  “Nobody cares about that. They’re all happily gossiping and insinuating she had something to do with Randi’s death. Didn’t you hear them at church?”

  He snorted. “That’s ridiculous. And no, no one said anything to me.”

  “Well, they did to me. More than once. It’s probably sheer agony for Anna at school. We really need to get her into counseling, so we can help her deal with all of this in a more effective way than hiding under the covers.”

  “Already done.”

  Now it was her turn to swivel her head and stare. “What?”

  “After our talk the other night, I called your cousin Gregg. Teenagers aren’t his specialty, but he says he has a few clients in that age range. I’m not sure he’s completely qualified for this situation, but at least he’d keep it in the family.”

  “You could have told me about it sooner, Colin. I’ve been worrying for days about how to convince you it was the right thing to do. Talk about a waste of mental energy.”

  He leaned down and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Lor. You know me. I like to get all the ducks in a row before I say anything, in case it doesn’t work out.”

  “We’re supposed to be a team,” she protested. “If you’d done it when I first brought it up, maybe we’d be days closer to making things better for her.”

  He pulled back and snapped open the next section of the paper. “Excuse me for not jumping when you said so. I wanted to check around first and make sure Gregg was a viable choice.”

  “Of course he’s viable. He’s known her since she was born.”

  “That has nothing to do with his professional qualifications, Laurie. I see the guy at family events and he doesn’t counsel people there. If he’s going to talk to Anna, I wanted to make sure he checked out. I’d do the same for any counselor we were considering.”

  Did it have to take days? Couldn’t he have made some phone calls and come to his conclusions sooner than this? But if she asked that, they’d have an argument. She didn’t think she could stand one more person withdrawing from her and looking at her over their shoulder as though she were the bad person. That morally corrupt woman who had raised a morally corrupt daughter.

  Was that what Cammie and Debbie were really thinking under all this nice talk about considering Tanya’s feelings? Were they laying some of the blame for Randi’s death on her?

  No, she couldn’t think that way. She needed to focus on the positive, on the fact that Colin now agreed that counseling with Gregg was a good solution for Anna. Instead of berating him for taking so long, she should bite her tongue, be a good wife, and thank him for what he had done.

  “I know you would,” she said. “Thanks for standing with me on this.”

  “Somebody has to stand with someone around here.”

  What was that tone in his voice? “What do you mean? You’re the only person standing with me at the moment.”

  “And who’s standing with me?”

  “I am, of course.”

  He put the paper down. “Are you? You treat me like the enemy, Laurie. I’ve put up with it for days, but it’s wearing a little thin. You expect me to side with you on every single thing, but when are you going to start supporting me and my decisions?”

  Enemy? Colin? How could he say such a thing? And why would he need someone to side with him, anyway? His men’s group wasn’t abandoning him.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, let me lay it out for you. You’re not the only one whose top priority is Anna
. Her welfare is my concern, too, and when you snipe at me for doing what I think is right, it hurts. You need to ease up and realize that you have a family, not an armed camp.”

  She couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. Breathe. Slow and steady. That’s it.

  “All I can think about is my family,” she finally got out around the lump in her throat.

  “When was the last time you talked to Tim about what’s going on?”

  “I hope to heaven he doesn’t know.”

  “Don’t be naive. Of course he knows. It’s all over the elementary school. These teenagers have little brothers and sisters, and they feel just as involved as anyone.”

  “Have you been talking to him?”

  “Of course. Someone has to. You might want to back off on organizing Tanya’s and Nick’s and who knows whose lives and pay some attention to the one you have here at home.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to be a problem, since she’d been cut out of Tanya’s life by people who thought they knew better.

  But isn’t organizing people what you do?

  In the back of her brain, the question niggled at her. Did she really think she knew better than everybody else how their lives should be run? That was the essence of what Colin had just told her, wasn’t it? Did people translate her love for helping and organizing into the kind of behavior she hated—the know-it-all who bossed others around?

  Surely not.

  She didn’t want to think about that right now. Since Colin wanted her to concentrate on her family, she’d do it. The rest could take care of itself once her family was safe.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I will. Meantime, I’ll call Gregg tomorrow and get Anna set up with him ASAP.”

  ASAP turned out to be Tuesday morning at ten thirty, which was the only half hour that Gregg had open in a short week, even for his cousin.

  “It’s the holiday season,” he said in his psychiatrist voice, which was not the one he used at Super Bowl parties and birthdays. There must be someone waiting in his office. “This and Valentine’s Day are my busiest times of the year.”