by Jane Tesh
This impressed her. “Well, don’t let us keep you. We need to get Camden’s input on the wedding photographer. When will he be back?”
“It may be a while. Could I take a message?”
Ellin looked around the dining area as if she expected him to be hiding under the table. “Where did he go? Didn’t he remember we were coming by today?”
Like the Grinch, I thought up a lie and I thought it up quick. “Yes, but Tamara called and said she needed him at the shop for a while.”
Ellin looked at her mother. “I suppose we could stop by there.”
Another diversion was necessary. “I think they were going to the south-side shop to pick up some merchandise.”
To my relief, Jean wasn’t in the mood to tangle with the south-side traffic. “I don’t want to go all the way over there, Ellin. Why don’t we go see about the bridesmaids’ dresses and stop by here later? Will he be home by five, David?”
If he hasn’t decided to try another dimension. “I hope so.”
“We’ll be back at five.”
“Hello! Anybody home?”
At the sound of cheery voices, we turned. Two tall dark-haired women came in, laughing and talking at the same time.
“Surprise!”
“We couldn’t wait!”
“We stopped by the house and Dad said you were over here.”
“Where’s the lucky bride?”
“Congratulations, sis!”
Jean got up, her face alight. “We weren’t expecting you girls until tomorrow.”
Ellin’s face wasn’t quite so thrilled, but she hugged her two older sisters. “Hi, girls.”
The taller of the two tugged one of Ellin’s curls. “Oh, we really couldn’t wait another day. We’ve come to help.”
This, I knew, was the last thing Ellin wanted. Caroline and Sandra have bossed her around since birth. They look enough alike to be twins, but Caroline is two years older than Sandra and wears her dark hair in a short flippy style, while Sandra’s hair is long with long bangs. Both have Mr. Belton’s high forehead, snub nose, and serious dark eyes, but there’s nothing serious about either of them.
If that isn’t enough to rile Ellin, her big sisters think I’m pretty hot.
Caroline gave me a kiss. “David, I swear you get better looking every time I see you. I wish you’d marry Ellin so we could keep you in the family.”
Sandra looked around. “Where’s Cam? Where’s the lucky man?”
“He had to go to work.”
“Too bad! I wanted to lay a big wet one on him, too. Come here, David. You’ll have to do.”
Their mother put an end to the serious smooching. “You girls want to help us pick out a photographer? We’ve been through several, and we can’t find the right one.”
Caroline plopped down beside her on the sofa. “Why not let Uncle Nick take the pictures?”
Ellin was already twice as tense as before. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Just because he gets everyone’s rear end? You shouldn’t worry, Ellin. You’ve got a cute little tush.”
There it was, the veiled antagonism. Caroline and Sandra had been extremely jealous of their tiny blond baby sister. Now that they were adults, their relationship was better, but I wasn’t sure how long the treaty could survive wedding plans.
Sandra sat down on the other side of Jean and turned the pages of the album. “Do you have a cake yet?”
“Fulsom’s is doing it.”
Sandra wrinkled her nose. “You really should go with Sweet Nothings. They’re much cheaper. What about the bridesmaids’ dresses? You’d better not have us in puffy sleeves.”
Caroline laughed. “Or empire waists.”
I could tell Ellin was trying to control her temper. “As a matter of fact, Mother and I were on our way to have a look at the dresses. Why don’t you come along?”
“Great! David, are you coming?”
“No, thanks.” Four Belton women in the house were already making the ground quiver. “I’m working on a case.”
Sandra gave me another kiss. “We’ll want to hear all about it.”
They went out, Jean first, followed by Caroline and Sandra. Ellin was the last to go. She gave me a look that spoke volumes. Volumes of encyclopedias.
“I was hoping for one more day of peace.”
“I think they’re really happy for you, Ellin.”
“I guess so.”
I found myself in the odd position of comforter. “They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t care about you.”
“They’re probably hoping I’ll trip and fall down the aisle.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
She refused to be comforted. “Oh, so now you’re psychic, too? If you see Cam, tell him they’re here, would you? At least one of us will have a warning.”
The car horn beeped. Sandra called, “Come on, Ellin!”
Ellin sighed, exasperated. “Damn. Maybe we should’ve eloped.”
Chapter Six
“Oozing charm from every pore…”
Now I’d like to say I tuned in on Camden’s brainwaves or had a vision or sensed where he was, but nothing like that happened. He has to send me a message, and right now, he was probably as scrambled as that premium channel you didn’t pay for. It’s better and faster to use common sense. He’d headed out the back. He’d no doubt seen the Beltonmobile. There were two choices: Food Row or the park. I opted for the park.
I walked down Grace Street. The sidewalks are cracked and in some places, curved around tree trunks and buckled by roots. All the houses have flowers, magnolia trees overloaded with fat white blossoms, oak trees, and these orange flowers called day lilies that look like trumpets bursting out of the ground. I waved at one of our neighbors who was mowing his lawn in the hottest part of the day, as usual, and as Rufus would say, sweating like a big dog. Passing the two-story brick apartment house, I could hear somebody practicing piano. Somebody else’s cooking smelled pretty good, mingled with the scent of flowers tangled in all the hedges and along the low stone walls separating driveways. An occasional bike or plastic toy lay on a front lawn. Everything was hot and thick and green, a far cry from the bleak windy little Minnesota town where I grew up.
At any other time, this would be a pleasant walk, but I was wondering where I’d look next if Camden hadn’t gone to the park. I waved at old Mrs. Austin, sitting on her front porch with her tiger-striped cat, Whiskers, in her lap. It’s the consensus of 302 Grace that Whiskers is the father of Cindy’s kittens. He certainly looked smug enough.
A winding bike path between two houses leads to the park, an expanse of green grass and oak trees between Grace and Willow streets. Besides the usual duck pond, swing sets, and flower gardens, there are benches for old geezers like Fred. I didn’t see Fred, but I saw Camden hunched on one bench, his chin on his knees, his bare feet up under. A couple of joggers huffed by. A mother and her small son threw bread to the ducks. I could tell by Camden’s stillness he was miles away from the scene.
He didn’t say anything when I sat down beside him, but he wasn’t in one of his zombie trances.
“How many children do you see?”
“Three.”
“Damn.” I thought this over. “Any of them psychic?”
“That’s the trouble. I can’t tell. You know my own future doesn’t come in clearly.” His eyes were a cloudy gray. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, Randall, especially not my kids.”
“But there’s a big difference here. Your kids will have you and Ellin to help them handle it. You had to go through it alone. They won’t have to.”
“I’m still going through it.” He unfolded himself and looked off toward the pond. “It scares the hell out of me. Now, on top of everything else, I’m telekinetic. I put a squirrel back in a tree a while ago.
I kept an old codger from tripping over his feet. I could probably knock you off this bench without touching you.”
“Try it!”
“Damn it, Randall, this is serious.”
“Can you control it?”
“Yes, thank God.”
“I mean, I had this picture of that guy in Star Trek, you know, the one in the pseudo-Roman robes, tossing everybody around because he was in a funk.”
This earned me a dark look. “I can’t marry Ellie. I can’t risk passing this freakish talent on to our children.”
“But your fortune will be made. Ellin will trot them round to all the talk shows. The Amazing Camden Kids! They tell the future, find lost treasures, walk on hot coals for your entertainment.”
He gave me another look. “You’re not helping.”
We sat in silence for a while. “You know you’re going to marry her. You love her. You’ll find a way around this. If your future’s unclear, then maybe none of the kids will be psychic. Your problem now is telling her about this new trick.”
“I’m not going to tell her. Not yet.”
“She and Jean will be back at five. I told them you and Tamara had to go across town. Oh, and Caroline and Sandra have arrived. Now the fun really begins.”
“Thanks for running interference. I kind of lost it for a minute.”
It made me uneasy to think that besides levitating squirrels, Camden might one day have a child in the house. “We’re in the same boat. The whole idea of children makes me lose it.” The word “children” sat like a boulder between us. Might as well hang it around my neck.
Camden watched the mother and child feed the ducks the last of their breadcrumbs and then rubbed his eyes wearily, as if erasing the scene. I imagined he was thinking of his own childhood, which, from the few things he’d told me, had been lonely and distracting until he’d learned to understand his visions. “If I only knew what caused this stupid talent in the first place.”
“You are the Chosen One.”
“It’s my father’s fault. I know it is. If I ever meet him, I’m going to knock him sideways. What kind of man leaves a woman pregnant and then runs off? What kind of man abandons his family? Damned irresponsible jerk.”
“Maybe your father didn’t know your mother was pregnant, ever think of that? If you’d let me find him, we could ask him and clear this up.”
“I don’t want you to find him.”
“You’d rather be angry and sulk and fling things around?”
“I’d rather be normal.”
“Good luck with that.”
He sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes, which had returned to their usual blue. “Guess I’d better get back.”
“Have you ever thought about having a useful talent, like changing leaves into dollar bills?”
We walked back to Grace Street. Several blocks from the house, we could hear the piano. Somebody was tearing through “Dizzy Fingers.” I know Kary’s playing when I hear it. She wasn’t playing.
“Don’t tell me you’re doing that, too, Camden.” Then I recognized the sound. Sure enough, when we went inside, there was Charlie, pounding away at the piano. Kary watched in admiration. He finished with a spectacular run and smacked the last chord. We applauded.
Charlie bowed. “Thank you, my loyal fans. Glad to see I have a few left.”
Kary beamed at him in a way that made me very nervous. “That was wonderful. I wish I could play like that.”
I wondered how long he’d been here.
“Are you rehearsing here now?”
He reached for the ashtray, realized it wasn’t there, and covered his mistake with a blues rift on the bass keys. “Just stopped by to help Kary pick out something to play for the pageant.”
Kary picked up the stack of music books from the piano bench. “I need to find something really showy. ‘Dizzy Fingers’ is always a crowd-pleaser, but I can’t play that. I’d have to practice for a hundred years.”
Charlie pointed to a piece of music open on the piano. “We’re going with ‘Graceful Ghost’ by William Bolcom. It’s more classical and certainly difficult enough to impress the judges. And you could play ‘Dizzy Fingers,’ Kary. Don’t sell yourself short. You can play anything you like.”
“‘Graceful Ghost’ is more my speed, Charlie, and you know it.”
The smiles, the glances, the cheerful banter—my jealousy spike-o-meter was going haywire. So I changed the subject. “Caroline and Sandra are in town. They’re coming by around five.”
This, as I’d hoped, distracted Kary—although not as long as I liked. “Oh, I can’t wait to see them! Charlie, have you met Ellin’s sisters? They’re a hoot. Why don’t we work on this piece for a while, and maybe you could stay and meet them.”
“I’d love to, Kary, but I need to talk to Randall, and then I’d better be getting home. Got a minute, Randall?”
“Sure. Come on into my office.”
I led the way, and Charlie came in, shutting the door behind him. He sat down across from my desk. “I’m happy to help Kary, but the real reason I came over was to see you.” He searched his pockets for his cigarettes. “Will it bother anyone if I smoke in here?”
“Can you stop at one?”
“I’ll make every effort.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Okay.” He stopped searching his pockets. “It’s about Taffy, of course. I think I know part of the problem. Lately, she’s written her own songs for the band. They’re—how shall I put this? They’re crap. Really awful. She gets all defensive, but it’s not the type of stuff we play. They’re all modern and atonal.” He shuddered. “Not a melody in sight.”
“I don’t see what I can do about that.”
“Like I said, she’s been putting me off, giving me all kinds of excuses. I need to know if she’s seeing someone else, or if it has to do with her music.”
“Just because she’s writing her own songs doesn’t necessarily mean she’s cheating on you.”
“That’s what it feels like. I feel betrayed, you know? Like, she’s always been into the old tunes, and now she’s turning her back on them and on the band and on me.”
“But she still sings with J.J.’s.”
“I think she’s singing with another band.”
“Charlie, she can sing with as many bands as she likes. A voice like that is going to be in demand.”
“Yeah, but I’m afraid she’s going to leave us, and then I’ll lose her. I think somebody told her those crappy songs are good. Could you follow her one day and see where she goes?”
If you’ll leave Kary alone, I wanted to say. But I knew he was—pardon the pun—stuck on Taffy, and I wanted to make sure they stayed together.
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks.”
I wanted him to leave. I thought he was going to leave, but he went back to the piano. When I came out, he and Kary were sitting side-by-side on the piano bench, their hands intertwined as they worked on “Graceful Ghost.” Fortunately, he had to go before five o’clock and the Attack of the Belton Women.
I followed Kary as she went into the kitchen to make more iced tea. She was her usual calm self—on the outside. I could tell something was bothering her. She knows we keep the tea bags in the far left cabinet, but she opened several other cabinets, as if searching for the tea. When she found them, she dropped a few on the counter, but quickly scooped them up.
“What do you think of that song, David? Does it sound difficult enough?”
“Graceful Ghost.” The image of Lindsey dancing so proudly in her recitals filled my mind, her smile beaming brighter than any light on stage. “Yeah, it’s great.”
She filled the iced tea maker with water and put the tea bags in. “I’m glad Charlie could help me out. And here’s some good news.
I heard the pageant prize money is six thousand dollars this year instead of five.”
She kept her gaze on the tea maker. Was she thinking of her own little graceful ghost? I’d always imagined her daughter as a tiny version of Kary, blond and brown-eyed, a budding ballerina, like Lindsey. “That’s great, too.”
“And I asked him about Viola’s cousin. He said he didn’t know.”
“Well, Millicent Crotty won’t talk to me. Maybe you’ll have better luck. And check and see if Viola recently quarreled with someone, or owed anyone money.” From the looks of Viola’s house, she wasn’t wealthy, but people had been killed for less than twenty dollars. “There could be a long-standing feud at the theater, or someone from her past.”
Now the packs of sweetener demanded all her attention. Something was on her mind, and it wasn’t making tea. “And the mysterious Dahlia?”
“There are three possibilities. Nobody home on the first try. I’m going to call them again.”
Kary added sweetener, turned on the tea maker, and finally faced me. “We need to discuss our Baby Love campaign.”
“Actually, I’d like to discuss something else.” At her look of inquiry, I decided to confront the elephant. It had been standing in the room long enough, and I was tired of it blocking my way. “You’ve been there for me when I wanted to talk about Lindsey. I want to be here for you and talk about Beth.”
She winced and I immediately regretted bringing up her lost baby. She folded her arms tightly around her and took a few shuddering breaths. For a moment, I thought she was steeling herself to tell me, but then realized she was locking down her emotions, one by one, exactly the way I did when the grief threatened to overwhelm me. All the signs were there, the quick blinking away of tears, the defiant lift of her chin, the unavoidable catch in her throat. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
I had serious doubts about continuing, but I wanted her to know we were carrying the same impossibly heavy burden, and I desperately wanted to help lift hers. “It was a horrible time for you, but believe me, I understand.”
“No. You think you do because of Lindsey, but there’s a big difference here, David.” She paused for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to explain. “I want to carry a child, feel it growing inside, and loving it as a true part of me. It goes to the deepest core of what it means to be a woman, and I can’t have that.”