by Cari Cole
"No. I'm helping a friend and trusting that you are competent enough to take care of the family," Mae said.
"You might not like what happens if we find out we can get along just fine without you."
Mae dug her fingernails into her palms, using the pain to fend off tears. "I'm going to pretend you aren't acting like a jerk and I hope you do some thinking of your own the next few days. I'll have my phone if you need me."
###
Jane figured there wasn't any point in putting off the inevitable. She called her voice mail as soon as she put her overnight bag on the kitchen table.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
She sighed at the sound of Norm Bankstone's voice. Her boss Norm. He sounded angry. Big surprise. After asking what was wrong with her, he requested she return his call.
There were three more messages from Norm. In the final message, he gave up on her returning his phone call and said he would see her in the office early Monday morning.
The rest of the messages were routine calls from clients.
No personal calls.
Because--aside from Mae and Lucy--she had no personal life.
She was consumed with her career. With her image of herself as a strong independent woman who didn't need anyone--meaning a man--to make her life complete.
So, why had she endangered her career with that little stunt yesterday?
She scrolled to Norm's number and hit the call button.
"Norman Bankstone."
"Norm--"
"Jane? Please tell me you've had a nervous breakdown or developed an addiction to oxycontin so I can tell the client you're in a mental institution."
"Stress. I think it's stress." Seemed as good an excuse as any.
"Stress? You expect me to tell a man who's worth a few hundred thousand dollars a year in business that you turned into a foul-mouthed shrew because of stress?"
Jane had intended to play the humble penitent. To throw herself on the mercy of the court of Norm. Right up until the word shrew came out of his mouth. She didn't do humble well. "Tell him whatever you want. If you're not going to fire me, I'm taking a month off."
"You're fired."
Jane pushed the button to end the call without replying.
"It's official," she said, peering into her tank of very expensive--and very beautiful--saltwater fish, "I've just flushed fifteen years of work down the toilet."
The fish weren't impressed. Little did they know, fish food would be the first thing to be sacrificed to the budget gods if she didn't find a new job. Herbie, Gracie and their little friends just might wind up in some doctor's reception room.
She made a note to call the fish sitter tomorrow.
###
Within five minutes of Jane and Mae leaving, Lucy's bag was packed and sitting by the front door.
She didn't have anyone to answer to and she didn't worry about her wardrobe while she packed. Her idea of casual wear consisted of jeans, the odd pair of khaki shorts and whatever shirt came to hand.
She went back upstairs to a spare bedroom she'd turned into a serene, uncluttered space for meditation, lit a candle and lowered herself into a half-lotus.
This is what she should have done yesterday instead of shooting up the fish or drinking that awful boxed wine. Which probably said something profound about the state of her spiritual life.
She focused on the candle flame and started counting her breaths. She only made it to three before her mind started to skitter and jump around. Divorce. How is Ryan doing at school? Has he eaten anything except pizza? What lawyer is Gary planning to hire? What mystery could Belle be talking about?
Lucy shook her head in disgust. Classic case of monkey mind.
She focused on the candle again and started counting.
When she got to five, the doorbell gonged through the house.
Dammit!
She unfolded herself and went to see who felt the need to ring on a Sunday.
###
Lucy looked through the peephole in her front door at the stranger standing on her porch. The man was decently dressed but for the first time in her life, Lucy was hesitant to open her door.
The reality of living in this big house alone smacked her in the face and she realized if he were some sort of nutcase, she was screwed.
The man glanced from side to side, no doubt checking to see if there was any movement inside. He knocked again.
Lucy told herself to stop being ridiculous, turned the deadbolt and opened the door with a polite smile pasted on her face. "Yes?"
The man didn't smile back.
Before Lucy could think better of things and close the door in his face, he asked, "Lucy Deen?"
"Yes."
"I have delivery for you," he said and held out a thick legal sized envelope she hadn't noticed.
She took the envelope and now the man smiled. "Have a nice day." He turned and left without waiting for a response.
Lucy closed and locked the door before opening the envelope. Just like in the movies, she found herself staring at a set of legal documents stapled to a piece of blue card stock.
"Petition for Divorce," she read and blinked in disbelief.
Gary walked out yesterday and had her served with divorce papers today? Sunday? Who the hell has legal papers served up on a Sunday afternoon?
Apparently a man who'd been planning his departure for some time. A man who was hoping to keep her off balance and vulnerable to whatever dirty tricks he and his lawyer were planning.
Whatever hurt still lingered after Gary walked out yesterday burned away in white hot anger at the utter contempt he'd just demonstrated for her, their marriage and her feelings.
Lucy vowed to find the most vicious lawyer in all of Metro Atlanta.
Gary Deen had just made a huge mistake.
And They're Off
Lucy tossed her bag into the back of Mae's van and climbed into the front passenger seat waving the divorce papers. "The rat bastard already filed for divorce. He had me served today."
Mae and Jane made properly horrified noises.
"You're going to make him pay aren't you?" Jane asked.
"Oh yeah. But I don't want to talk about it any more for now."
"I don't blame you," Mae said. "Chip was a great big jerk about me taking off. He hinted that I might not like it if he found out he could do without me."
"And I got fired," Jane said. "Maybe we should find ourselves a nice beach shack on some South Pacific island. Eat coconuts and mangoes and tan for a few months."
"Maybe Belle's mystery will be enough of a distraction," Lucy said. "At the very least we can agree to leave our messes behind for the next couple of days. Belle has a way of putting things into perspective."
"So, what do you think this big mystery is?" Jane asked from the middle seat of Mae's gold, Dodge Caravan.
Lucy looked back from her spot in the front passenger seat. "Knowing Aunt Belle it could be anything. Although she did say it was a family mystery. Which is a little unusual. Belle's more likely to be searching for a lost tomb in Egypt than a lost relative in Georgia."
"Maybe she found out that you're descended from royalty in some tiny remote country and they need you to inherit the crown," Mae said.
"It's more likely she's discovered my parents are really fugitives on the run from some crime committed during Vietnam protests."
Mae slapped a hand over her mouth feigning shock. "Lucy!"
"What can I say? I grew up on a college campus."
"Now this is a story I haven't heard yet," Jane said. "The way I've heard you tell it before I pictured Dad in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, Mom with her hair in an appropriately professorial bun while they involved you in discussions about literature and philosophy."
"The professors identified a little more strongly with the revolutionary side of things," Lucy said. "I spent my middle school years in pot hazed rooms listening to intellectuals pontificate about LBJ, Nixon and their 'fascist cronies' leading us
down the path to hell."
"Wow," Mae said. "That's different. You grew up in a house where drugs and ideas went together and I grew up in a house where drugs just fucked everything up."
"Believe me, from what I heard the pot didn't do much for the quality of the ideas being tossed around."
Jane shook her head. "My parents worshipped the almighty dollar. Their motto was 'you're blue--we sue'. Of course they retired rich and early."
"And here we are, the poster children for conformity. You ever feel like individuality is going the way of the dinosaur?" Lucy said.
"I read somewhere that more and more of America is looking the same," Mae said.
Jane looked quizzical. "How? I mean New York doesn't look anything like Colorado."
"The suburbs and small towns," Lucy said. "The same restaurants, stores, malls. I mean, can you even picture a city or town of any size without at least one four-lane road lined with, Chili's, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Old Navy, PetsMart, Walmart, Barnes and Noble, Home Depot and on and on?"
"I never thought about it," Jane said.
"Well some people are starting to think about it. Have you ever seen Demolition Man with Sylvester Stallone?" Lucy said.
Jane shook her head.
"It's about the future. The politically correct future where all the restaurants are Taco Bell but they only serve healthy food. Smoking, foul language, the exchange of bodily fluids and anything else that might be considered bad for you or offensive to others has been outlawed. It's supposed to be Utopia."
"Sounds good to me," Mae said.
"It does, but the concept is taken to its absurd extreme conclusions. The movie is a cautionary tale about political correctness and conformity."
"How did we get on this topic?" Jane asked. "We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves."
Lucy gave herself a shake. "You're right. We should make a vow not to worry about anything for the next few days. Just go with the flow."
But the seed had been planted and all three of them were wondering what had happened to their younger, more adventurous selves. The ones who swore when they were sixteen that they weren't going to turn into their parents. They were going to travel, explore, learn new things and have amazingly fulfilled lives.
They were starting to think about bringing those younger, braver selves back to life.
The hour and a half drive from the Atlanta suburbs up into the mountains of North Georgia was always scenic but Lucy was wishing for the fall color that would blaze the trees in another couple of months.
Things always seemed more optimistic to her surrounded by the color and crisp air of fall.
August was hot and humid, the bright greens of spring having long since given way to the darker, duller greens of summer. Even fresh cut grass didn't seem to have the same bright smell this late in the season.
Lucy directed Mae to the last turn onto a long gravel drive down a tunnel of trees.
The lodge came into view, walls of glass gleaming in the afternoon sun, timber framework glowing and mellow.
"Wow," Jane said from the back seat. "This is some place."
"Belle designed every inch. She spends a lot of time traveling but this is where she comes to rest and recharge," Lucy said.
"I can't imagine getting a lot of rest here. It must take hours just to clean the windows," Mae said.
Lucy laughed. "Belle has a housekeeper. Plus she doesn't often have young visitors with sticky fingers to leave prints on them."
They parked in front of the cabin and immediately knew something wasn't right.
The front door was standing wide open.
Have Your Cake
"I don't see a car," Jane said.
"The carport is around back," Lucy said. "Belle has a BMW sedan and a Jeep Cherokee. One of them has to be here."
"Does she leave the house unlocked when she's away?" Mae wanted to know.
"Belle's not exactly the paranoid type. She usually only locks up when she's out of town. But I'm sure she didn't leave the door wide open."
"The housekeeper?" Jane said.
Lucy shook her head. "Not on Sunday."
This was not a good thing.
Lucy told the others to wait while she made a quick check of the carport.
The Cherokee was gone.
"Burglar?" Mae said when she learned Belle was likely gone in her car.
"Maybe," Lucy said.
"We should call for help," Mae said.
They all checked their cell phones. They had service.
"Are you sure we should bother the police?" Jane said. "What if it was just the wind?"
"What if it's a criminal?" Mae said.
"I think we should check it out before we call the police," Lucy said. "Even if someone broke in they probably took off when they heard us drive up."
"I'm going to find a big stick and go inside," Jane said. "I'm too grouchy and tired to take any crap off anyone."
So saying, she stomped off to comb the perimeter of the clearing for a suitable weapon.
Lucy followed suit and found a stout three foot length of pine. God help the burglar if he was still here.
The three of them trooped up onto the porch.
"If anyone's in there you better run out the back door if you don't want your ass kicked!" Jane shouted.
"Do you really think it's a good idea to antagonize the criminal?" Mae said.
"I think it's a good idea not to sneak up on the criminal," Jane said. "He probably doesn't want to get caught any more than we want to catch him."
They all peeked in the door.
The great room was empty of living things.
They went in and Jane repeated the yelling thing.
Still no response.
"Split up or stick together?" Jane asked.
"Stick together," Mae and Lucy chorused.
"Let's check upstairs first. That way, if he's still here and downstairs, he'll have another chance to leave," Lucy said.
Jane and Mae thought this was a fine idea and they headed up the stairs making lot's of noise like they were trying to scare off a small animal.
They went through the upstairs room by room, stick weapons at the ready and found no one.
There were a few open drawers, pillows tossed off beds and lights on that probably should have been off. But nothing seemed to be missing--at least nothing large or valuable.
Once they cleared the upstairs they went back down feeling confident that they'd scared off the criminal.
The sound of a plate hitting the floor in the kitchen dashed Lucy's hopes they'd get out of this without a confrontation. Maybe the criminal hadn't found them so scary after all.
Or maybe he'd knocked a plate on the floor in his headlong flight to escape three suburban badasses.
Yeah, right.
The girls spent several seconds pointing to each other in a silent argument about who was going first.
Lucy had no idea why they were suddenly being quiet after all the noise they'd made to this point. She started to suggest they go back outside, lock themselves in the van and call the police, when Jane rolled her eyes, raised her stick and stepped into the kitchen doorway.
Mae and Lucy stepped up close behind and bumped into her back when she stopped dead on the threshold.
Mae peeked around her shoulder, squealed and jumped back.
Dark eyes peered out from behind a black mask and a hiss came from between bared teeth.
A large raccoon stood on the kitchen floor, the remains of a cake spread at its furry feet, nose covered with white icing, striped tail twitching in agitation.
Lucy rolled her eyes and wondered what else could go wrong, then immediately sent up a prayer telling God she really didn't want an answer to that question.
Jane went after the creature with her stick.
"Hold on! Let me get the back door open," Lucy said. The last thing she wanted was to chase the damn thing all over the house.
Jane managed to restrain herself long e
nough for Lucy to get the door open and take up a spot blocking the way back into the great room.
"Scat! Shoo! Go on!" Jane hollered while she poked the stick in the raccoon's direction.
"What if it has rabies?" Mae asked from behind Lucy.
Lucy looked at the animal. He looked healthy and well fed. "Doubtful. I don't think cake is the food of choice for rabid animals."
The raccoon hissed at Jane but it backed up toward the open door to the outside.
"Ha!" Jane shouted. She advanced on the poor creature like a fencer trying to force her opponent back at the point of a sword.
The raccoon hissed again and stopped backing up.
"You're scaring him," Lucy said.
Jane let out an exasperated sigh and waved the stick at the raccoon again. "It's supposed to be scared."
"Maybe you should back off a little so he can run out the door instead of feeling he needs to protect himself," Lucy suggested.
Jane shrugged, lowered the stick and backed up a few feet.
With the immediate threat relieved, the raccoon decided escape was better than further confrontation. He skedaddled.
Jane hurried to close the door behind him just in case he changed his mind and decided cake was worth the risk.
Mae came back into the kitchen and looked at the remains of the cake.
"I guess Belle must have left the front door ajar," Mae said.
"She can be a little scatterbrained," Lucy said.
Jane wasn't so sure. "What about the lights and the open drawers and the pillows on the floor?"
Lucy shrugged. "Raccoons have been known to do an awful lot of damage."
"I've heard people with cabins up here say they have to keep their doors locked even when they're home because the raccoons learned to open doors," Mae said.
In spite of her words, Lucy had the feeling the raccoon in this case was more of an opportunist taking advantage of a door left open by a human criminal but she didn't see the need in dwelling on it since the person was clearly gone now.
"Well it doesn't really matter. Nothing seems missing and other than the cake nothing's destroyed," she said.