Runaway Mistress

by Robyn Carr

  “I don’t think she even realized…”

  “I guess what I mean to say is that I don’t want to be alone. But what can we do about that? I never had a family. And so—”

  “You won’t be alone, Rose. I promise,” she said. “You have family now.”

  Fourteen

  The prom was a welcome distraction and Hedda could barely contain her excitement. She planned to work her schedule as usual, Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. She needed a little extra help on Saturday night, she told Jennifer nervously. “My…ah…my mom can’t get off work Saturday night, and that’s where she makes her biggest tips, so I need a baby-sitter for Joey.”

  “You know that’s no problem.”

  But Jennifer knew there was more to the story. Sylvia was not going to allow this special event. Hedda was a sharp cookie—she wasn’t going to draw Jennifer into her conspiracy.

  “Okay,” Jennifer said. “Tomorrow, as soon as you get off work, grab Joey, come over and let’s work on your hair and makeup.”

  “Great,” she said, beaming.

  Alex spent most of Saturday morning working on all three lawns. He mowed, trimmed, repaired sprinklers, edged along the sidewalk and weeded out planter boxes. While he was in constant evidence outside, Rose and Jennifer were assembling things inside.

  “Do you think he could be more obvious?” Jennifer asked Rose.

  “Phoo. He can’t admit he’s as interested in this night as we are.”

  “Should we invite him to play? Or should we make him beg?”

  Rose pulled the curtain on the front window to one side and looked out. “Too late. Here’s our girl on the fly.”

  Hedda was walking at nearly a run, pulling Joey along. She wore a tank top, overlong shorts and her high-top rubber-toed tennis shoes. Over her shoulder she carried a plastic bag. Jennifer looked at her watch. It was five-thirty. Max would be coming for her in about an hour and a half.

  She lifted Alice’s lead from the hook on the wall and the old girl got lazily to her feet. She was on the front step with the dog just as Hedda came flying up the walk. “Joey, how would you like to take Alice for a little walk with Alex?”

  Alex looked over the hedge at Jennifer. He smirked. “Hey, Hedda. Big date tonight?” he asked.

  “Very funny, Alex. Joey, will you be nice? Go with Alex?”

  “Come on, sport,” Alex said, laying down his hedge trimmers. “Let’s go get a couple of beers, watch some sports, pick up chicks.”

  “’Kay,” he agreed, taking the lead from Jennifer.

  With Alex and Joey gone, the transformation commenced. Hedda was shuffled into the shower where towels, soap, shampoo and a robe were waiting for her. The women paced outside the door impatiently while she got cleaned up. When the door to the bathroom finally opened, they literally pulled her from the room.

  A chair was brought from the dining room into the bedroom. Rose insisted she be the one to help with Hedda’s hair on the grounds that all Doris knew about hair had been awfully drastic. So while Rose employed the blow dryer and curling iron, Jennifer worked on Hedda’s nails. There wasn’t much to them, given her line of work, but they shaped up nicely and looked much improved with some clear polish.

  There was a bit of a tussle over the hairstyle. Rose was fond of big hair, back-combing and the like. Hedda was more than willing to alter her usual spiky coif for something a little more formal, but every time Rose teased it up, Hedda would pat it down.

  The makeup was much easier—there was very little disagreement. Since Hedda didn’t usually wear makeup, they went easy. A little base, a little eyeliner, soft lip liner and gloss.

  They heard Alex and Joey come back but wouldn’t let them into the bedroom, where all the really serious work was taking place. When it was almost time to get the dress out of its protective bag, Jennifer pulled some tissue paper out of a dresser drawer.

  “I don’t know if this is still traditional for a prom, but I thought you might like to have this,” she said, peeling back the tissue.

  “A garter,” Hedda said. It was the same soft pink as the dress with little pearls in the shape of a heart. She looked at Jennifer with tears in her eyes. “I was going to skip it,” she said.

  “We’re not going to skip anything. And here’s a little something else,” she said, producing some very sheer pink panties, fancier and more expensive than anything Hedda had ever had.

  “Oh, God, how gorgeous!”

  “You may show Max the garter, not the panties,” Rose said. She grabbed Hedda’s shoulders, turned her in the direction of the bathroom and said, “Put on your lacies and let’s get this show on the road.”

  Moments later, Hedda stood before them in all her pink glory. Rose produced a sheer shiny white shoulder wrap and Jennifer went back to that same dresser drawer and brought out a slim, glittery bracelet. As she put it on Hedda’s wrist, the girl gasped. “Is this real?”

  “Don’t worry. It has a safety latch.”

  “Doris, I can’t. It’s too much.”

  “It’s perfect. Isn’t it, Rose?”

  Rose looked at her strangely. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Perfect,” she agreed, but in her eyes there were a thousand questions.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Show time,” Rose said, handing Hedda a small satin clutch. “You have a house key for this house, lip gloss, tissue and a couple of twenties in case you need a cab home.”

  “I won’t need a cab,” she laughed.

  Rose left the bedroom to get a look at Max. Hedda would have followed when Jennifer pulled her back. Whispering, she said, “Just a minute. Two things to remember. No drinking and driving, and remember how old your mom was when you were born?”

  Hedda nodded.

  “I’m taking a big chance here. I’ve known all along I’m going against your mother’s wishes.”

  “Doris, no one has ever been this great to me. You rock.”

  “Well, rock on back here at a decent hour. If you scare me at all, I’ll shave your head.”

  Jennifer wasn’t sure what she was expecting from Max—maybe some tux pants that were hanging off his bum, exposing his boxer shorts. She had found herself hoping that the older brother’s car he was planning to use wouldn’t be too big a wreck; she’d hate to see that adorable dress get ripped, snagged or smeared with dirt.

  Waiting just inside the living room door with a plastic corsage box was Max, his hair looking a little like an unmade bed but actually better than usual. And he wore a very nicely fitted tux—white. And he said, “Wow!” when he saw Hedda.

  And Jennifer said, “Max! Wow yourself!”

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling shyly. He handed Hedda the plastic box. “We have to drive over to my folks?” he said uncomfortably, his voice rising in habitual question. “Pictures?”

  “That’s cool,” she said. Because clearly Hedda was feeling very much like having her picture taken.

  “We have to take some pictures, too,” Alex said, and Jennifer noticed for the first time a camera sitting on the coffee table. “Let’s get some outside. Under the tree.”

  That was the first time they saw the car. A Lexus.

  “Max, is that your brother’s car?” Jennifer asked.

  “Naw. He’s got a Honda? It’s a real nice Honda, though. This is my mom’s? She says if I so much as scratch the paint, she’s going to—well, actually, you don’t want to know what she said she’d do, but it’s very painful.” No question in his voice now. This, Jennifer realized, was how you knew Max was making a statement that brooked no doubt.

  It took just a little while for them to snap some pictures and be on their way with Hedda yelling for Joey to be good. Alex draped his arms around Jennifer’s and Rose’s shoulders as they watched the young couple drive off.

  “You took pictures,” Jennifer whispered sentimentally. “That is so sweet.”

  “Wanna go spy on them?” he asked her.

  “Can we?”

  He
nodded. “We can spy, then we can go park somewhere and make out. If Rose will babysit. I have just the enticement. I have ice cream and a DVD of Shrek.”

  The high school held their prom in a ballroom at the magical Ritz Carlton at Lake Las Vegas. The night was unseasonably cool and the breeze refreshing. Surrounded by mountains, the resort community was like a glittering gem in the middle of the desert.

  Alex and Jennifer were there before most of the teenagers so they walked around, hand in hand, looking for a prime viewing spot. They bought icy Frappuccinos and found a bench inside the Ritz, not very far from the entrance the kids would use for valet parking.

  It wasn’t long before they began to arrive. They came in colorful pairs and in groups. Jennifer was delighted to see Max and Hedda come in with another couple. And Hedda, having such a good time, didn’t even notice that Alex and Jennifer were sitting nearby.

  “You did a good thing here, Jennifer,” he told her. “She’s going to remember this for the rest of her life.”

  “There are lots of similarities between the way I grew up and Hedda’s life. But what about you, Alex? How’d you grow up?”

  “Lucky. Nice, Midwestern folks, two brothers, both in law enforcement up north. My dad was a cop and now he has his own locksmith shop. I have to say, I never really struggled. My only struggle was that I was the youngest and the smallest. I didn’t think I would ever hit puberty.”

  “Well, you hit it and passed,” she laughed.

  He put an arm around her and they leaned back against the wall, enjoying the sight of the young people, formal and so happy, going in and out of the Ritz.

  “I know you were married once,” she said. “But what has kept you free for so long?”

  “Nothing clicked,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not like I was avoiding women or relationships. Between Paula and my last few female partners, I’ve been fixed up a dozen times. And I’m a real good sport. I’ve always been open to the idea that it could happen again.” He gave her a squeeze. “I figured this time I’d know what I was doing.”

  “It shouldn’t have happened this way. I shouldn’t be so lucky,” she said. “You should be married with three cute kids who play lots of sports and drive you crazy.”

  A woman in a cocktail waitress outfit stomped past them just as Alex was saying, “That’s pretty much what I expected. What my brothers have. But I—”

  Jennifer’s eyes were following the woman. “No!” she shouted suddenly, and leapt to her feet. She ran after the woman to stop her. Alex was right on her heels. Jennifer touched Sylvia’s arm, turning her about. “No,” she said more softly. “Don’t do this.”

  Sylvia’s face was twisted with anger. “She doesn’t have permission!”

  “What do you care?” she asked pleadingly. “It’s one night, it’s not putting you out, it didn’t cost you anything.”

  “She’s supposed to be baby-sitting!”

  “You’re here—that means you’ve already found out that Joey is with Rose, watching a movie. He couldn’t be happier.”

  “I told you to mind your own business.”

  “All right,” Alex cut in. “We’re not doing this here. Come on, let’s take it over there, out of the traffic.”

  He pulled gently on Sylvia’s elbow and she snatched herself out of his grasp. “Don’t you touch me. I’m going to get my—”

  Jennifer was gripped in sudden panic. “Sylvia, don’t! Come on, let me buy you a drink. Let’s just talk about this over a drink!” Even as she offered, she knew this was like throwing gasoline on a fire. But it was the only thing she knew would work to get her out of here before Hedda was humiliated.

  Her expression changed. “Where?”

  “Someplace quiet. My treat.”

  She glared at Jennifer for a moment, then nodded and walked out ahead of them.

  Jennifer whispered to Alex to find them a quiet bar nearby and leave the women alone to talk this out. And, she added with a cringe, “I don’t have any money.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  Lake Las Vegas was not only too regal and sophisticated for what they had in mind, it was also too crowded. Alex shepherded the women into his car, declaring they’d come back for Sylvia’s car later, though in his mind he must have known they wouldn’t. He drove them to Henderson, a quick twenty-minute trip, to a little neighborhood bar close to the interstate.

  The only thing Sylvia said from her place in the back seat was “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “We’ll talk about it over a drink,” Jennifer replied.

  The women took a booth in the back while Alex sat at the bar. Sylvia ordered a boilermaker and Jennifer watched as the angry look began immediately to melt off her face. Then Sylvia began to talk.

  She talked about the tough childhood she had had, the abusive parents, bad times in school, becoming pregnant at fourteen, delivering at fifteen. She’d been in and out of foster homes, her parents unstable. She’d moved many times, starting in Albuquerque. She’d been married three times and all the bums had run through whatever they could get out of her and left her high and dry. She complained about her job, which she probably had lost from walking out tonight. She hated Boulder City and wouldn’t be there except that the last guy she lived with worked at the dam. She hated Nevada, for that matter, but there was no denying there were good waitress jobs there in the casinos. She went on and on and on about how rotten her life was, how two kids didn’t make it any easier.

  She had six boilermakers and an unknown number of cigarettes and was still in the first volume of her life story, but she hadn’t said a word about Hedda and Joey, except to complain that motherhood was hard. It was all about Sylvia. But Jennifer had been able to get a few details.

  When Sylvia raised her hand to the waitress one more time, Jennifer said, “That’s got to be it for tonight,” she said. “But maybe we can do this again sometime.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure. Let’s get going. Tell you what—we’ll drop you off, and if you give me your keys, Alex and I can ferry your car home for you tomorrow morning. You’ll have to sleep in to get ready for work tomorrow night.”

  “Awww,” she said, reaching across the short distance that separated them to run her fingertips along Jennifer’s jawline. “That’s so sweet.”

  She was considerably more talkative on the way home than she had been before, much to the annoyance of her hosts. Fortunately it wasn’t a long drive. It was just after ten when they got to the little house and Sylvia was well on her way to being plowed. “Sure you won’t come in for another drink?” she invited.

  “No, thanks.” Jennifer faked a yawn. “I’m bushed.”

  There was a long silence as they left Sylvia in front of her house. Finally Alex said, “Well?”

  “Damn, Alex, I found out way more about Sylvia than I ever wanted to know.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Her life is more of a train wreck than mine—but here are the two things I know that I consider valuable information. One, Joey’s father may be a loser, but apparently he has grandparents who are good-enough people to have pestered Sylvia to see the boy. Hedda seems to have only Sylvia and Sylvia’s dysfunctional parents, who, fortunately, have no interest in her. And two—she’s an alcoholic.”

  “You think?” he asked facetiously.

  “Maybe someone should contact Joey’s grandparents,” she said.

  The opportunity to bring up the subject of Joey’s grandparents came sooner than Jennifer expected. She had not imagined what the onset of summer would bring—the temperatures rose to one hundred degrees daily and the nights were often rent with violent desert storms known as the monsoons. School was out, there was no air-conditioning in the house in which Hedda lived, and the intensity of the heat and the boredom of the days made it difficult to keep Joey occupied, and therefore not easy for Sylvia to sleep. Hedda came in for her shift at one, Joey in hand. There was an angry red welt marking her cheek and h
er eyes showed the anguish of crying.

  Jennifer wanted to storm over to that nasty little shack and knock Sylvia into the middle of next week, but she kept her cool. “Here’s what I want you to do,” she told the girl. “When you get up in the morning, go straight over to my house. Er, Louise’s house. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to stay there, but when that business is all settled, I’ll have to go somewhere.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “I’m sure. But one more thing, Hedda. I know you think you can do everything, but I think you should give yourself a break and consider contacting Joey’s grandma and grandpa.” The girl instantly dropped her gaze. Jennifer lifted her chin. “What’s the problem?”

  “They live in Arizona.”

  “So?”

  “They would take him away,” she said, her eyes watering.

  “Arizona isn’t so far away. Look, you don’t have to make a decision right away, but Hedda, you’re almost seventeen. You have to think of Joey, too. Could he have a better childhood in Arizona?”

  “Probably,” she said. “But my mom won’t give him up.”

  Jennifer almost said, I don’t see why. But she held her tongue.

  “You just think about it.” She touched the girl’s reddened cheek. “Meanwhile, just go to my house.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “She needs me. As long as she has me and Joey, she manages to hold it together.”

  “I do understand,” Jennifer said. “I’ve been there. But in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s not holding it together very well these days.”

  She shook her head. “She’ll get a grip. She always does.”

  It was with Hedda on her mind that Jennifer brought up the subject of the house with Alex. “I wonder if I should be looking for a place to live that will take Alice,” she said.

  An expression crossed his face that was almost a wince. “Listen, I didn’t mean to keep anything from you, but the house is to be mine. Louise told me a few years ago that if she didn’t have to liquidate her property to go into a nursing home, she would leave me the house as long as I would watch over Alice.”