“It had to be someone’s boyfriend or husband. Maybe mine,” Face lift grinned. “Can’t you see Max pounding him to death with his walker?”
Lori knew she should leave, but she had a hard time pulling herself away from the conversation. She wanted to tell them she too had pictures, pictures of a young innocent boy before his chest was covered with curly blond hair, and before his mind was full of devious schemes. They were talking about the Josh she had lost track of. Finally, she got up and proceeded towards her gate. She would miss him too. She smiled as she pictured a hotel suite full of flowers and champagne.
On the Phoenix flight, Lori accepted the airplane attendant’s offer of wine with a dish of assorted snacks. She thought, By the time I get home, I will be an alcoholic. My husband Jerry was right; it helps dull the nerves and memory. After resting, thumbing through some magazines, and eating her dinner of pasta and a salad, Lori leaned back and fell asleep.
On arrival, Lori pulled her luggage through Phoenix Airport until she found her friend Rain’s smooth, tanned, smiling face and welcoming open arms. Rain—the tan-skinned, sharp-looking, coal-black-haired woman in boot-cut brown jeans, wearing a turquoise embroidered shirt and enough silver jewelry to open a mine—greeted Lori at the gate. Lori shook her head before giving her friend a big hug.
“Tell me, Rain, why do you always look like a thirty-year-old instead of someone in her late sixties?”
Rain bellowed out one of her loud deep laughs.
“No husband, no kids!” she answered. Then she held Lori away from her and looked at her up and down.
“First, we have to get that God-awful prim and proper dress off of you.” Next, Rain grabbed Lori around the waist. “Hell, woman, there is nothing left of you. What did they feed you?” She turned and began walking. “Okay, let’s get you out of here!”
Lori, shorter, thinner, and frailer, tried to keep up with her tall, muscular friend, but it was a losing proposition. Finally, she stopped cold and called out in a breathless, cracked voice, “Rain, I can’t keep going at this pace.”
Rain turned around and surveyed her friend. She realized that hearing about someone’s ordeal is much different than seeing the effect it had on that person. "Okay, what's with the cane? Temporary, I hope.
"I know I need it now, so slow down, girl."
Rain brought Lori over to a chair. “Honey, you sit right there, and I will get the car and meet you in front of exit three in ten minutes." She squeezed Lori's hand affectionately before she took off with Lori’s suitcase and travel bag. Only three years younger, Rain was still in great shape
Lori took her time getting to the exit. Stepping outside, she scanned the clear blue Arizona sky. Taking off her sweater, she basked in the eighty-five degree temperature. “It’s so good to be home.”
When Rain pulled up in her black Jeep, Lori struggled to get over the high step. She carefully loaded herself down in the passenger seat of Rain’s Jeep.
As soon as Rain entered the car, she handed Lori a bottle of water. “You’re home in the desert, drink up. There’s, uh, some good stuff under the seat, if you can handle it,” Rain said with a wink.
Lori smiled. “Not now, maybe later,” she answered as she dug into her purse for sunglasses. Already she was squinting.
When Rain turned the key in the ignition, the car speakers blasted out with Cathy’s Clown, old sixties tune by the Everely Brothers. Lori smiled as she thought back to the sixties, when she and Rain were on the opposite sides of the poles. Lori, the establishment, and Rain, the wild hippie protestor. Now they were the best of friends.
Home. Finally. Lori sank back in the car seat and watched the scenery along Highway 101—the paint-blue sky, russet and purple mountains, open expanses of land peppered with giant cacti—passed before her in a welcoming slideshow, as, bit by bit, she absorbed the fact that she was back home, back in familiar surroundings, and hopefully, given time, back to normal. She closed her eyes to rest for a few moments.
***
“Hey, Lori,” Rain asked, gently nudging her friend with her elbow, “are you hungry?” She had let Lori doze for about half an hour before speaking. She knew her friend had been through the wringer. “We could stop for something to eat, and you can tell me about your adventure.”
Lori awoke and stretched her arms and legs. “Sounds good, but let’s stop at a fast food place, as this jet lag is really doing a number on me, and I might fall asleep at the table.”
“You just might. You already fell asleep.”
“I did? How long have I been out?”
“Oh, about half an hour. I let you sleep. Looks like you needed it.”
Lori checked herself in the sun visor mirror and combed her fingers through her short hair.
“Jeeze, they must have slipped me a Mickey on the plane. If I had known they were serving those, hell, I’d have asked for more!”
Rain bellowed out one of her hearty laughs as she pulled off the expressway at Camelback Boulevard and pulled into the Cheesecake Factory restaurant. She opened the car door and helped Lori out. Rain stared at her friend as she walked behind her towards the restaurant.
“We have to do something about that limp, lady. You know you are signed up to do the rain dance in next month’s Indian festival.”
“Oh, Rain, how I missed you, my direct and witty friend.” Lori turned and gazed upon her friend’s tanned face, her slim figure adorned with its embroidered blouse and tons of turquoise jewelry. Renee, alias Rain, the daughter of a Federal judge who had given up luxury and safety for life on an Indian reservation, was Lori’s savior in Arizona.
Lori stopped in front of the restaurant and inhaled the scent of the flowering cactus by the front door. She watched the patrons’ calm, quiet, easygoing pace as they walked in and out of the establishment, politely allowing her to move in front of them.
After she and Rain were seated in a cozy corner booth by the window, Rain ordered a bottle of Merlot. Lori sipped the wine while Rain took a full swig from her glass. She smiled at Lori and said, “So tell me about your vacation—er… Well, I guess we can call it a vacation, right?”
Lori took a deep breath and shook her head from side to side.
“I don’t know what to call it. Or where to begin; besides saying the fact that I am alive is an achievement of luck and the help of many special people. I think I can say that I finally topped your adventures at Woodstock.”
Rain answered with a reminiscent smile and thought of the dragon lady tattoo on her ankle. “If you were wiped out on some of the drugs I was on then, your horrors in England would have been a lot easier. In fact, trying a little pot now would help you to forget."
Lori, who grew up straight and narrow, never engaging in anything not kosher except for her nights with Josh, didn’t respond to Rain’s comment on her drug use. Instead, she started her story. “I’ve told you most of what happened with Josh and the kidnapping.”
The waitress approached them to take their order.
Rain ordered a veggie burger and a small salad, while Lori, too tired to look at the menu, said, “Santa Fe salad, if you still have it, and some coffee too.”
“Decaf or regular?”
“Regular, black,” Lori answered.
“Before you tell me about the investigation, tell me about Cate,” Rain said.
Lori was all smiles as she told Rain about Cate, her stylish clothes, her ultramodern condo, her graduation, and her breakup with Joseph. The food arrived as Lori regaled Rain with tales of Joseph’s insufferable stepmother.
“Oh, my god, she sounds like an absolute nightmare!” Rain exclaimed, taking a stab at her mixed greens salad.
“She was an expensive, obnoxious, gaudy nightmare. Your head would have been spinning, Rain, I just know it.”
While they ate, Lori told Rain about Cate’s new job and her bonding with FBI agent Jordan.
“I get the feeling you’re not that fond of Jordan,” Rain said, as she took a bite of her veggie burger.
> Lori swished her fork around her salad, turned towards the window, and stared at the tiny red and black bird standing half in and half out of an opening in the large Saguaro cactus before turning back in Rain’s direction.
“It’s not that I dislike him… I just am afraid he will break Cate’s heart.”
“Cate’s tough, Lori.”
“He reminds me of Josh.” Lori said, as she leaned her chin on her arm.
Rain, who had been married to Josh for a short time, opened her dark eyes wide and pressed her lips together. “That’s not good! In what way?”
“He’s cocky. Self-assured. I mean, confidence is as asset, but… You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Rain snorted, “if he’s too cocky, then he may very well feel he has the right to take advantage of her—and anyone else who crosses his path. I get it, Lori. But Cate, from what you have told me, has a good head on her shoulders. She won’t take any shit from any man.”
“Not like I did,” Lori grumbled.
“Don’t linger in the past, Lori. It serves no good.” Rain reached across the table and affectionately grabbed her friend’s thin arm. “Oooh, eat some bread! We have to get some meat on those bones!”
Dessert normally was one of the perks at the Cheesecake Factory, but after a few more minutes of conversation and eating, Lori looked at her watch, and, without having to apologize to her friend, she said, “I’m wiped out. Let’s go home.”
Without another word, Rain paid the check, helped Lori back to the car, and headed north on 101 towards Ventura, their retirement community which was next to Desert Mountain. Lori leaned back and rested, and Rain kept quiet even though she had a million questions she wanted to ask.
They pulled through the gates. Ventura Retirement Community, one of the relatively new retirement communities, was well stocked with happy and active retirees, several swimming pools, a couple of fine dining and casual dining restaurants, and a large community center. They stopped in front of Lori’s two-bedroom, beige stucco, ranch-style home. It was one of the few homes that were butted right up against the large Desert Mountain.
“You’re home! How does it feel?”
Lori stood for a while, admiring the clean, neat cactus garden with hearty shrubbery that decoratively flanked her flagstone walkway. She fished out her keys and headed toward her red door.
“It looks like home. Things look perfect. Just like I left it. Seems months and months ago.”
Rain, sensing Lori’s weariness, followed her inside. “I stocked your fridge last night, just in case you were too tired to shop. All you have to do now is relax.”
“Everything looks great.” Lori paused and sighed a deep heavy sigh before turning to her friend. “Oh, Rain, thanks so much for… for…”
Rain could see Lori was going to get emotional, so she nipped it in the bud. Her friend needed sleep more than anything, not an emotional breakdown. There would be time for that later.
“No need, no need, my friend. Rest up and enjoy. Call me if you need anything,” she said, embracing her friend and feeling her frailty. “My God, you’re going to enjoy yourself putting some flesh back on those bones! Good thing I stocked the fridge, huh?” Rain winked and kissed Lori goodbye. “See you tomorrow.”
Lori listened as the glass door slid closed. Her friend had realized how much Lori needed some time home alone. She walked around smiling as she basked in the comforts of her own possessions from the pastel Indian painting on the wall to the out of place family Victorian chair. She remembered a quote Rain had told her many years ago, when Lori’s life was in turmoil.
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning how to dance in the rain.
She had danced in the rain this past month for certain—and also for a good part of her seventy years.
Chapter 28
It was past noon when Lori woke up. The time difference between London and Arizona, along with her new aches and pains from her surgery, had played havoc with her body over the past several days, but now that she had been back a while, she was falling into her old pattern. But last night she’d had a tough time sleeping, and she found herself rising late today. Josh had crept into her dreams after a weeklong absence, and as always, the dream left Lori awake in the middle of the night, processing her ordeal once again.
They say it can take days before one’s body re-adjusts to transatlantic flights. Lori decided that, in light of her harrowing experiences, she would be gentle on herself, allowing extra time before things got back to normal—or what Lori called her “new normal.”
She stepped from the shower and looked at her skinny frame in the mirror and thought how, in her youth, she dreamed about being skinny. Better watch what you wish for, she told herself. Now she was too skinny, despite Rain’s efforts to fatten her up by taking her out to lunches and dinners. That scoundrel Roland had starved her in just five days. Until the kidnapping, she had used the word starving, but she had never really understood it.
The sun shone in through the large windows, and her whole house lit up. Lemons and oranges ripened on the trees outside, low pink and cream-colored buildings spread across her development. She smiled to herself and thought, It is good to be home.
She threw on a pair of white shorts and a thin, pink short-sleeve t-shirt, and went into the kitchen to toast a bagel. Once the bagel was ready, she poured herself a tall glass of lemonade and sat at her kitchen table, enjoying her cream cheese bagel in the afternoon silence. She decided to leave the unpleasant job of unpacking and washing clothes to later in the day. She briefly turned on the news. Another school shooting, another missing person, and the Democrats and Republicans shouting at each other wasn't what she needed to hear, so off it went. Answering phone calls, messages, and e-mails were things she wasn't ready for either, so she stayed away from those devices.
Lori was curious about the mail, though she realized now a days with all the digital devices most of the mail consisted of throw-aways. She rose from the table and went to fetch the mail. There were a few envelopes and a small brown box at her feet. Taking her bundle of mail and her lemonade with her, she walked out to her ample patio. She sipped her cold lemonade, leaned back in her white wicker lounge chair with the rose padded cushion, and admired the clear Wedgwood blue backdrop that enhanced the spellbinding brown and purple shades of her majestic mountain. Birds flew to her feeder, long-eared rabbits scampered along, lizards ran over the desert sand, and cacti stood up straight proud to show off their spring flowers. The comical brown and white roadrunner sped by, and in the distance, coyotes howled. Being home gave Lori a feeling of peace even though she knew, like her daughter’s death, Josh’s murder would haunt her memory until her dying day.
Rain had taken good care of her home, keeping it clean, watering her plants, stocking her refrigerator, and collecting the mail. She was just getting to the end of her mail pile now, and she tossed the new letters and box onto the pile of old mail. The first thing she looked at was the Ventura Weekly Activity Newsletter. Monday was Travel Club; Tuesday, Games; Wednesday, Exercise; Thursday, Genealogy; and Friday, Book Club.
A sharp pain shot through her hip, and she wondered if she would ever be able to join an exercise class again. Just walking was difficult. She hoped the name of the Arizona doctor she needed to make an appointment with was still among her papers. That takes care of exercise.
Games would have to be taken off her list too. There was no way could she concentrate on bridge. Now Mah Jongg would be a real treat. Two of her Mah Jongg-playing friends spent most of the game complaining. Could she really listen to them whine? “You called that tile wrong. You’re too slow. Call the league!” And she was certain she could not really stand to listen to Deborah’s constant wail of, “No one has as much trouble as I do!”
She could change the newsletter to: Monday, Travel, that one is good. We could cover the police stations and hospitals of London. Tuesday would be changed to Murder Mysteries. Wednesday would be Kid
napping. Thursday, she could keep Genealogy; surprise, you have new relatives. Friday, Book Club. Now there is an idea, she thought. She figured she could write a book about her adventures! She would have to find a better ending than “The murder was solved, and she lived happily ever after in her retirement community.”
But to her, that ending seemed peaceful enough. She had had enough of twists and turns.
Oh, God, she thought, how long will I be able to keep the masquerade up this time? Better tackle the rest of the mail, she thought, looking down at the large box of mail sitting next to her. She intended to go through it and finish it today since she knew the box contained bills long overdue. Her son was right; she should have been paying everything on the Internet like the rest of the world. She had actually left the iPad he had purchased for her at home, thinking she would only be gone two weeks. What a laugh. She took another sip of her lemonade.
She thumbed through the box and picked up the little brown package that arrived that morning. Turning it round and round, she found no return address, but she noted the British postage.
Might as well start with a mystery package, she said to herself.
Reaching for the scissors on the table next to her, she cut open the box. Inside, she found a small black cosmetic bag. She frowned upon recognizing it as the cosmetic bag she had left in Josh’s hotel room.
Renewed tension and anxiety coursed through Lori like a lightning bolt as she gazed at the bag. The scent of her Channel No. 5 perfume permeated the air. She hesitated before reaching inside it. Shaking her head as though the gesture would shake the painful, disturbing memories away, Lori moved to the small, covered garbage pail sitting on the patio and started to toss the cosmetic bag in there. She hesitated, and then she decided to open it first. Besides her lipsticks and makeup, there was her bottle of Channel No. 5.
When Josh had put his arms around her on their way back to their room after their romantic dinner, he had whispered in her ear, “I could always find you by the scent of your perfume.”
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