Sally moved over to me. Was she in on it as well? "So what do you say, Christine… Are you up for it?"
I gulped. "Of course I am. I'm up for anything."
From the view inside, I could see the alpacas in the distance, with warm enough coats to protect them in the harsh environment, and the poor farmhand that had to take care of them. She seemed to be wearing a coat made of alpaca fur as well. It was possibly a pleasant enough job during the summer months. I was a big animal lover and I found alpacas particularly charming. But on a day like this, my nose would be getting frostbite. Still, part of me wished that I was down there in that freezing cold field.
There was a fire roaring in Tina's sitting room. It waned a little after we'd first arrived, but she'd simply called a servant in to place more wood on top and to stoke the flames underneath. Soon, it was crackling and spitting again
"Lovely place you have here," I said to Tina, trying to hide any nerves I had and just to take it easy. But I was in danger of giving myself away and letting the real Georgina come out if I drank any more champagne. I was worried I might snap and tell one of these ladies what I really thought abut their lifestyle. Just relax, George. Take it at face value. Tina just wants to show you her house. She is being hospitable. Don't go getting weird.
Tina put down her champagne flute. "I think we've all had enough of that," she said and I sighed inwardly with relief. Maybe we were all going to watch a DVD now and crack open some hot cocoa. I mean, I doubted we'd be heating it up ourselves, but one of Tina's employees could do it for us. "I think it's time that we moved onto something a little bit harder."
I raised an eyebrow. Like a crossword puzzle? I thought hopefully. I always preferred the cryptic side of the clues.
But she wasn't talking about crosswords and she wasn't talking about hot cocoa.
Tina smiled thinly as she reached toward the coffee table, slid open a drawer, and reached inside for a little tin. It looked like silver to me. In any other case, I'd assume it was only plated, but it was probably solid in this one. I glanced up at the other women, who were all stone-faced except for Lucy, who was trying to suppress a giggle. I looked over at my biggest ally—Sally—for support, but she just averted her eyes.
The tin was rattling ominously. Tina reached in and took a tiny white pill out of the bottom of the silver base and placed it on the palm of her hand. "You go first," she said to me.
My heart was beating far too fast. I had a sudden worry that I was going to start sweating and my wig would slip off. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the tablet she was holding out for me to take. Why did I have to be the one to go first?
"Don't worry, Christine," she said with a little wink. "It's just a little bit of fun. Nothing that can do you any real harm." Real harm? So, fake harm?
"Oh, I don't feel right unless all of you are doing it," I said with a laugh. I now had the pill in my hand and I could feel it start to melt against my warm sweaty palm.
"You are the guest of honor," Tina said, placing the lid back on the tin once she had taken out another four pills and handed them to the other women. They all seemed unfazed, as though this was something they did every day. I doubted that any of their pills were melting. But they were all staring at me, waiting. I had a terrible case of stage fright.
I was suddenly very nervous. This was not what I had signed up for. Was this really what these women were into? Sally was spinning her pill around in between her finger and thumb, watching carefully for what I was going to do. I was being tested—do this or go home.
I was in way too far over my head. How was I going to pretend that I was one of them if I couldn't even get this pill down? To them, it was clearly no big deal, and my hand started to shake. I looked around to see if there was at least any water, or was I expected to swallow this mystery pill dry?
Maybe it was time to abort the mission. There were things I would do and things I would not do, and swallowing a potentially poisonous—or mind-altering—pill was not one of them, apparently.
I passed the pill back to Tina and stood up.
"No, thanks, not this evening."
I could see the disappointment in her eyes. Well. Maybe I wasn't up for anything.
"It's purely medicinal," Tina said. She looked around at the other women like she was in shock that I would be denying myself the chance of not only entry but a good time. But there was a look of amusement on her face as though she was trying not to laugh. I supposed they all thought it was amusing that I was such a stick in the mud.
Tina glanced up at me. "You don't think you are too good for us, do you, Christine?"
I shook my head and backed away, hoping that I could leave before there was any kind of showdown. I felt like I was dodging confrontation constantly at that point in my life. "It's okay. I'm not judging. It's just not for me."
Sally leaned forward and for a moment, I thought she was suppressing a cough or a sneeze. But then she started to laugh. It surprised me, because it wasn't a laugh of judgment or a snicker at my expense, but rather a full belly laugh that rocked her whole body and brought tears to her eyes. She walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder like she was trying to reassure me. "Ah, the look on your face," she said, wiping away a tear as the laughter subsided for a moment.
I was confused about what was happening. I glanced around to see that Tina, Lucy, Robyn and Lorraine were also laughing. I was the brunt of some kind of joke. I looked back up at Sally, hoping to get some sort of answer.
I started to laugh as well, half from nerves and half from relief that the whole thing had been orchestrated and that no one had really expected me to take the pill. Maybe I was still in the inner sanctum after all.
"You were scared, weren't you, Christine?" Sally said, throwing her head back in laughter again. "Don't worry. It's just something we do as a sort of initiation ceremony." She laughed heartily and put her pill back in her purse, doing the clasp up with a loud snap. "It's just a Tylenol."
"Like hazing?" I asked, only half-laughing now. Wow, these women really were intense.
Sally stopped laughing and looked a little stern. "Oh, well, we would never call it that," she said a little sternly. "But you passed, Christine. Or at least, you gave us all a good laugh anyway! And that's the most important thing, isn't it? Laughter?"
To Sally? Sure, it seemed like it was. She lived to laugh, even after her husband had been killed less than a week earlier.
"So this is more our real pace," she said as she showed me into Tina's kitchen where there was a spread of fresh fruit and sandwiches waiting for us. As well as fresh-pressed juice and as much tea and coffee as we could drink.
Tina's kitchen was almost entirely circular, and nearly all the walls were floor to ceiling windows. "Wow. This place is really beautiful." I wasn't even pretending, or putting it on—I was genuinely a little speechless at the beauty of the place and the 360-degree views of the fields and mountains and the snow on both.
"It looks almost like you could even ski here," I murmured.
Sally shook her head. "We have a far better place for that," she said with a little wink. "And if you play your cards right, Christine, you may just get an invite."
As the evening dragged on, I eased back on the champagne, but the other women didn't really slow down and I felt the peer pressure to keep up. Apparently, I still needed to play my cards right. I wanted to get closer to Sally so that she would open up to me. I had a feeling that these women—Sally in particular—weren't the kind to get all warm and fuzzy with talk of friendship and feelings, however. But I was starting to think I needed to move our friendship along. Not only because I needed an invite to this ski getaway. I needed to let Sally know that I was serious about being her friend so that I could find out more about her relationship with her husband.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Sally said, joining me in the kitchen while I poured myself a peppermint tea and tried to sober up. "I did try to tell Tina not to do it," she said, shaking her head
as she reached for a teacup of her own. "But they do enjoy their fun and games."
"Don't worry about it," I said with a light laugh even though I was grimacing on the inside. "It didn't faze me in the slightest."
I thought she might laugh and tease me for my obvious lie, but she did seem genuinely sorry about the whole ordeal. "Here, I'll pour it," she said, reaching for the hot water.
She was being quite solemn. Almost philosophical. We were away from the other women now, who were all still laughing in the sitting room, but for the first time, Sally didn't seem to be in the mood to laugh. Her facade had come down a little. She looked older and sadder in the light of the chandelier, now that the sun had set.
"I hope that you do consider me a friend, Sally," I said as I picked up my cup. Was this going to be too cheesy? "I know we haven't known each other long, but I felt like we had a connection."
"Can I tell you something?" Sally whispered. The tea in her glass must have been luke warm by then. She swirled it around a few times again as the other women cackled in the next room.
I nodded and leaned forward a little, then realized I was being too eager and tried to relax back against the counter.
"Sure, you can tell me anything, Sally. Like I said, we’re friends. Whatever you say to me stays here in this kitchen, between us."
She swirled her cup once more. "I'm glad he’s gone."
6
I woke up to something very unfamiliar. No wet nose in my face, no tongue against my cheek, no clawing on the door to let me know someone needed to do their business. Just an empty room with a low sloping ceiling. Some sort of guest room.
I sat up in a panic. Where was Jasper? I checked my phone and saw that I had about ten messages from Adam. The final one was, "Fine then. I suppose I'll just keep him for the night!" That was some relief, but I groaned and lay back down. How long was I going to be able to maintain these two separate lives?
I texted Adam. "I'll be back in Pottsville soon. Thank you!"
Sally was waiting downstairs in Tina's kitchen once I'd escaped from the attic and just—only just—managed to get my wig back on in an acceptable state. Sally's hair was as soft and silky smooth as a waterfall as per usual. There was a chef with his back turned to us, cooking up bacon and eggs. The smell was tempting for a second, but when he turned around and placed the over easy egg on top of a piece of rye bread, I felt my stomach turn and had to look away from the wobbling yolk before I lost the contents of my stomach. Whoa. I really had drunk a little too much champagne the day before.
"Would it be awfully bad form for me to ask for one of those Tylenol I so rudely turned down last night?" I asked, looking a little sheepish.
Sally laughed and walked over to where the tin was stashed in the sitting room. I wondered if she remembered what she had said to me the night before in the kitchen. To be fair, I was struggling to remember a lot of what had been said.
"Help yourself," she said, offering it to me before she took one herself and sighed. "Long night, eh? I hope you didn't miss much back in your real life."
I hesitated for a moment with the pill in my hand, wishing I could see the package they had originally come from. There was no marking on the pill at all. "Um, these really are Tylenol, right?"
"Don't worry," Sally said. "You trust me, right, Christine?"
I nodded and swallowed it with a glass of water.
I pulled on my coat. "That should sort my head out at least," I said, before heading toward the door before the other women had even risen. "Unfortunately, I've got a few things to take care of back in town."
Sally looked surprised. "I thought you were something of a free spirit."
I was a little surprised to hear her say that. I had been trying to give the impression of someone far more buttoned-up and conservative. But I supposed some parts of my true personality had leaked through into the Christine personality.
"I suppose I am a little bit," I said, relenting. "But the few responsibilities I do have are calling me back."
"Oh?" Sally looked genuinely interested to know.
I hesitated a moment. "I have two dogs," I said. "Casper and Jasper. They keep me busy."
I gave Sally a hug. I thought that would be the end of it and I'd be able to leave. But as she pulled back, she had an anxious look on her face. "Christine. I— About what I said last night."
I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. We were all a little drunk."
"Do you think any worse of me?" she asked quietly, pulling her robe around her. She looked really sad and small in that moment. No laughter. No thrown back head. Just a grieving woman who had said something she clearly regretted.
People grieve in different ways. I believed that Sally was grieving by pretending that everything was okay. That nothing had changed in her life. That everything was still light and funny. I couldn't judge her too harshly for that.
At the end of the day, the burden of her feelings had become too great, and she'd wanted to confess how she was really feeling to someone. I'd just been the one who happened to be there when the confession had spilled out. Maybe part of her really was relieved he was gone, especially if the marriage was bad.
I shook my head again and placed a hand on her arm. "No. I don't." My reply was honest. "I'm glad that you felt like you could trust me enough to tell me."
I still wasn't free. Sally called me back one last time.
"Christine… Do you want to have lunch some time, just the two of us?"
I grinned back at her. "Of course."
If it was just the two of us, maybe she would give me more of a clue as to why she was so happy that her husband was dead.
And if it was lunchtime, maybe I’d remember more of it.
I'd had to get a taxi back to Pottsville and asked it to pull over in town so that I could get a coffee, wishing I'd had one at Tina's house. But just as I was about to walk through the door of the café, I paused, recognizing a figure in the middle of the room. It was Felicity, Adam's fiancée, enjoying a morning coffee with a friend. I supposed she had left the dogs at home with Adam then.
I took two steps back, not wanting to bump into her at that moment. For the sole reason that I was a bit of a mess and she looked like she had gotten eleven hours of peaceful sleep. She glanced up at me and suddenly I realized something far worse. I wasn't me, I was Christine, but I would still be recognizable if she squinted and had a closer look. Which she just so happened to be doing.
Oh, no. I had to get out of there.
I tried to duck out of the way, but the only place to hide was behind a garbage can back on the curb.
Felicity was standing now to pay for her drinks. It was only a matter of seconds before she would be outside and I would be confronted. She would recognize me for sure, even with the wig and makeup. I supposed I could always just make up an excuse that I'd been out at a club the night before. On a Monday? Oh well, at least that would explain my smudged make up.
No, George, then she will only go home and tell Adam all about it and they will have a good laugh about how much of a mess you are.
While doing this, I must not have realized that I was making a scene, pacing and muttering myself right outside the cafe, with my wig becoming more and more displaced, slipping forward over my face.
Felicity was coming.
Was there time to whip my wig off and tidy up my real hair? No. I had my own hair pinned down under a cap. It was going to look ridiculous if I just whipped it off and stood there looking like a drag queen on an early Tuesday morning.
I glanced at the garbage can and groaned over it being my only refuge before I swallowed my pride and hid.
Felicity's friend was pushing a stroller and it took them a bit of effort to get through the doors.
Please, just be quick.
But they weren't quick. Instead of just leaving, Felicity started to have a chat with her friend and she kept leaning forward to coo at the baby. Who wanted to stand around in the freezing cold and coo at bab
ies?
I stayed crouched down, gripping the side of the can and cringing as I felt something sticky there. Hurry up, hurry up. But over five minutes had passed and they were still not done talking. Finally, they started to make a move and I sighed with relief. But it was short-lived.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and almost jumped out of my skin.
"Excuse me, miss. We've had some complaints about—"
It was Ryan's voice. I spun around, wondering what I had just gotten myself into. Why, out of all the people in Pottsville, did it have to be Ryan who was the one tapping me on the shoulder? Oh. Right. Because there had been complaints about the crazy woman loitering outside the coffee shop. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Gosh, he probably thought I was homeless or something, crouched down beside a garbage can with my hair all matted and my face a mess.
Ryan stopped and looked dazed when he realized it was really me underneath all that red hair and thick layer of makeup.
"George?"
"Shhh, please keep your voice down," I said, pulling some hair over my face in order to try and hide. "Someone might hear you." Felicity and her friend were just out of earshot.
"Someone might hear me what? Calling you by your name?"
I gulped. Well, yes. "Hang on… You said there were complaints? About me?"
Ryan sighed and nodded toward the cafe. "From the owner. Loitering. Acting strangely out in front of his shop. Erratic."
I supposed that was fair enough. I had been doing all of those things.
"I don't get it. Why are you dressed like this?" Ryan asked, frowning as he looked down at my red wig.
"I'm just...trying out a new look," I said casually, twirling a lock of the fake red hair around my finger. "What do you think of it?"
"Well, I think I prefer your original look," Ryan said, frowning again. I could tell he wasn't fully buying it. He crossed his arms. "Hang on. Why didn't you want anyone to hear me calling you by your real name?"
"I'm just, ah, trying out a new name as well."
Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs Page 5