Hollyhock Ridge

by Pamela Grandstaff

“I’m in, did I tell you? I’m so in on this action you couldn’t keep me out if you tried.”

  “That’s good to hear,” he said, “because I basically just agreed to be a single dad. Come December I’ll have a teaching position, a weekly newspaper to write and edit, two dogs, a teenager, and a baby.”

  “How could she give him up like that?” Claire asked. “Nine months of carrying the little bugger, twenty-four hours of labor, and then boom, here’s your baby? See you in twelve years.”

  “Of course not,” he said. “She’ll have maternity leave and then we’ll have a visitation schedule. But here’s what I now realize about Eve: her career means more to her than anything, and in the end she will only be interested in us when she needs a photo op.”

  “That’s kind of mean,” Claire said. “Seems to me she wouldn’t have had the baby if she felt that way about it.”

  “Look at it from her point of view,” Ed said. “If you-know-who becomes you-know-what, this baby will be a valuable leveraging tool. As a journalist, she will have unlimited access to you-know-who.”

  “Which also makes life dangerous for Ed Jr.,” Claire said. “He may need his own secret service agents.”

  Ed looked thoughtful.

  “You hadn’t thought about that,” she said.

  “I’ll get a DNA test,” he said. “If it’s mine, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “And if it isn’t?”

  “I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Ed said. “Somehow, I’ll figure it out.”

  “I know you will,” she said.

  “What’s going on with you and Laurie?”

  “You know about that, do you?”

  “It’s a small town, Claire.”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “All’s fair,” Ed said. “We’re being completely honest about everything, remember?”

  “Well, he’s going to rehab for a month, and, hopefully, he’ll get straightened out and stay sober.”

  “And then?”

  “I told him I’m not waiting for him, and I’m not interested in trying to have a relationship with him if he’s not sober.”

  “What if he gets sober and stays that way?”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “I’m not swimming out that far right now.”

  “I’m not going to be divorced for two more years,” he said. “You told me once you would never get involved with a married man.”

  “The universe has a way of humbling me in the exact way I am righteous,” she said. “Two years is a long time.”

  “So here we are,” he said.

  “Walking, not running,” she said.

  When Kay called Claire to see if she was free to accompany her on a short jaunt to Pendleton, Claire jumped at the chance to get out of Rose Hill for a little while, as long as she was back in time for her afternoon shift at the bakery. Kay picked her up and Claire got her caught up as they drove.

  “So Ed’s going to be a single dad,” Kay said. “He’ll need help.”

  “I know,” Claire said. “I told him I’m all in.”

  “It’s a big commitment,” Kay said. “Maybe you should think about it some more.”

  “Ed’s my friend and he needs my help,” Claire said. “What more do I need to think about?”

  “You’ll get attached,” Kay said. “To the baby, to Ed and the baby. I don’t think you’ve thought through what ‘all in’ actually entails.”

  “I don’t have anything else going for me right now,” Claire said. “So why not?”

  “Let’s say you help Ed raise this child, you and the child form a close attachment, and then, God forbid, something happens to Ed. The child would go to Eve and you would have no legal recourse.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “What if Ed meets someone else, falls in love, and when the two years are up, the child has a new stepmother. She probably won’t welcome you as part of the family.”

  “You’re harshing my baby buzz, lady.”

  “If you want to be the mother of this baby, you need to make it legal somehow or I’m afraid you’re setting yourself up for heartache. Plus, think of how someone you might get involved with would feel about it.”

  “There is no one else, and probably won’t be. I’m romantically cursed.”

  “I think maybe you and Laurie might have some unfinished business.”

  “I know he’s your friend and you’ve gone way out on a limb for him,” Claire said. “I wish he would turn his life around, but honestly, I don’t think he will.”

  “I’m surprised,” Kay said. “I thought you cared about him.”

  “I do care about him,” Claire said. “It seems like so many people struggle with addiction, and so few actually get better, or get better and then stay better. Laurie doesn’t have faith in anything, he doesn’t have much of a support system, and he doesn’t seem to have any friends left he hasn’t alienated. I care about him, I do, but I don’t want to board that train. Sorry.”

  When Kay pulled up in front of the Pineville Hospice House, Claire turned in her seat and looked at her with alarm.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “You told me you wanted to do something meaningful that helped people.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The other day, you said you wanted your life to be about more than what guy you were interested in and other superficial issues.”

  “What exactly is your plan here?”

  “We are volunteering this morning.”

  “I can’t do dead people hair and make-up,” Claire said. “It’s too creepy.”

  “These people are alive, they are patients, and some of them haven’t had their hair washed and styled for a long while. It’s something you can do that will mean so much to them, and to their families.”

  “What if I hurt one of them?” Claire asked. “How can I even do it? Aren’t they in hospital beds?”

  “They have a spa with a shampoo bowl, and a nursing assistant will be with you, to make sure everybody’s safe.”

  “Kay,” Claire said. “What if one of them dies?”

  “Then you won’t have to keep reminding them to hold still, now, will you?”

  Claire was so nervous she was trembling. The house director took them on a tour; the hospice house looked like an elegant inn but with hospital beds. Claire saw medical staff working at a large, central desk, and going in and out of rooms. Family members were hanging out in various comfortable lounging areas. Through the windows she caught glimpses of patients being wheeled out into the garden. The atmosphere was peaceful, quiet, and calm.

  “This isn’t so bad,” she whispered to Kay.

  “It’s actually very good,” Kay whispered back.

  The spa room was finished in Carrera marble, complimented by white equipment and gray-and-white soft furnishings.

  “Everything we do here is to provide our patients with the best quality of life while they are with us,” the director said. “The family of one of our former patients donated the money to create this room, and other donors have paid for everything in it.”

  There was a large, deep tub with a motorized lift bed that patients could be transferred to right from their hospital beds, and then lowered into a bath.

  “Some of our patients come to us having had only sponge baths for many months,” the director said. “It’s such a pleasure for them to be immersed in warm water and bathed.”

  The shampoo bowl and styling station were state of the art, and Claire felt right at home.

  “I can work with this,” Claire said. “How do we get started?”

  “We need you to fill out some paperwork,” the director said. “I’ll do a quick background check on you, and then we’ll bring in the first patient.”

  “You certainly work quickly,” Claire said.

  “Kay is one of our favorite volunteers,” the director said. “When she told us you were willing to do this, we wanted to get you in place
as quickly as possible. She said you could commit to three mornings a week to start.”

  Claire looked at Kay, who was grinning at her.

  “Kay is so helpful,” Claire said, although she made a face at Kay the director couldn’t see. “Lead me to the paperwork.”

  Claire only had time to work with two ladies before she had to leave to work at the bakery. Both of them were lovely women, and so appreciative of her gentle touch and skillful artistry, but their family members moved Claire to tears.

  “You are so kind to do this,” one daughter said. “My mother never went out of the house unless she was dressed up with her hair and makeup done. You’re making her feel like a person again.”

  “Bless you,” one’s husband said, and then could not continue for crying.

  Claire left the building quiet and thoughtful. She had received accolades for her professional work before, but never had it felt like she felt right now.

  When they got in the car, Kay paused before she started the ignition.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” she said. “What do you think?”

  Claire had to blink to keep the tears from falling.

  “I want to do this every day,” she said. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  On the way home from Pendleton, Claire’s phone rang.

  “Hey, Moonbeam,” Laurie said when she answered. “Guess what I found?”

  “Diedre’s car?” Claire asked.

  “The one and only,” he said. “I’ve called for a tow truck. I’m just about to jimmy the lock and call this mystery solved.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Up some godforsaken holler out Hollyhock Ridge,” he said. “This morning the owner of the barn it’s in reported it, and, amazingly, Skip noticed the posting and told me about it. He offered to come but I wanted to see this through myself.”

  “Good for you,” Claire said. “Well done, Laurie.”

  “It smells so strong of piss in here it’s making my eyes water,” he said. “I haven’t used one of these lock poppers in quite a while. I suppose it’s like riding a bike.”

  Claire started to say something, but there was a loud noise on Laurie’s end of the call and it was disconnected.

  Claire stared at Kay in shock.

  “What is it?” Kay asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Pull over,” Claire said, as her shock turned to panic. “Pull over, pull over, pull over! Something’s happened to Laurie.”

  Kay called 911 to report an officer in trouble, and his general whereabouts. Claire called Sarah and told her what was going on. Sarah was brisk and professional, but told Claire to start calling towing companies until she found the one Laurie had given the address to.

  Kay drove them to the Pendleton Police Department, where Chief Shepherd let them commandeer an empty office, and he radioed two officers to head out toward Hollyhock Ridge. From the front desk, he retrieved the list of towing companies, tore it in half, and gave Claire and Kay each half the list.

  Claire had called three companies when Kay yelled, “Found it!”

  Shep called the fire department, and it wasn’t two minutes before they heard the sirens start. Then he got on the radio and gave his officers the address.

  “Come with me,” he told Kay and Claire, who followed him to his squad car.

  By the time they got to the mouth of the holler, they could see black smoke rising above the treetops.

  “Oh, no,” Claire breathed, and Kay grasped her hand.

  They started out the narrow, rutted road, but had to pull over to let an ambulance get past.

  “This is all my fault,” Kay said.

  “No, this is my fault,” Claire said.

  “Ladies, this is most likely the fault of the criminals who stole the vehicle,” Shep said. “One of the most recent developments in drug manufacturing is the mobile lab, the better to evade detection by law enforcement. They probably had a shake-and-bake lab in that station wagon, and the chemicals outgassed in the interior, which is sealed. One spark or sudden influx of oxygen, and the whole thing blows up.”

  The chief pulled off the road a hundred yards back from the barn, from which flames were shooting high up in the air. Pieces of ash and burning hay were floating on the breeze.

  “No, no, no,” Claire said.

  Kay grasped her hand and held it.

  Shep got out of the car, saying, “You two stay here; it’s not safe to get any closer.”

  He spoke to a fireman who was walking their way, and then came back and leaned down to the open window.

  “He’s alive,” Shep said, but his expression was grim. “They’re taking him to town and then airlifting him to Morgantown.”

  Claire dissolved into tears, and Kay put her arm around her.

  “He’s strong,” she told Claire. “And he’s still alive. We’ll meet them there.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Shep said.

  A few minutes later the ambulance rolled past and Shep turned the car around.

  “I’ll turn on the lights,” he said. “We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  When they arrived, the waiting room was full of police officers. It took a few moments before Claire realized they were all there for Laurie. Kay greeted the few she knew, and Skip arrived soon after them.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” he said. “My mom notified the IWS to start the prayer chain.”

  “Who are all these people?” Claire asked him.

  “People who worked with Laurie,” Skip said.

  Another uniformed officer arrived along with a tall, thin, pretty young woman with long dark hair. She looked familiar to Claire.

  “That’s his ex and his best friend,” Skip said.

  The woman was in tears. She went to the desk, showed them an ID, and then was allowed to go back. The officer who had arrived with her greeted his colleagues, who all had grim faces, and then sat a little way apart from them. He put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

  “Why was she allowed to go back?” Claire asked. “They’re divorced.”

  “Her license probably still says ‘Purcell’ on it,” Kay said.

  Claire felt helpless and frustrated.

  “What can we do?”

  “Let’s go get everyone coffee,” Kay said.

  Claire followed Kay to the cafeteria, where they were allowed to borrow two trays to take coffee back for everyone. Claire helped pass them around, and introduced herself as Chief Fitzpatrick’s daughter, which gave her immediate access to their inner circle.

  “Laurie saved my life,” one officer told her. “I was still a rookie, green as grass. We did a routine traffic stop together; the guy turned out to be a wanted felon. He reached over to take something out of his glove box; I thought it was the car registration, but Laurie saw the gun. He pushed me out of the way and took a bullet in the shoulder. I’ll never forget that; guy could’ve killed me.”

  “He drove me to the hospital the night my daughter was born two months prematurely,” another one said. “Stayed with us all night, made calls, and drove to Oakland to fetch my mother-in-law. He’s been like a father to me.”

  “I’ve known Laurie all my life,” an older man said. “I worked for his father while Laurie was still in school. Larry was tough on him, but he was the apple of his eye. When Laurie graduated from the academy, his old man cried like a baby. It was the proudest day of his life.”

  Claire and Kay listened to story after story about Laurie. Everyone had something good to say about him, or recounted some generous, kind thing he did for them. As time went on, more and more people arrived, including Laurie’s neighbors, friends of his parents, friends of his late wife, church members, sheriffs from two adjoining counties, state police officers, and other people Claire didn’t have a chance to meet.

  The whole time, the man who had arrived with his ex-wife sat a little apart, and stared into space with red-rimmed, weary eyes. Finally, Claire sat down next to him and introduced herself. H
e said his name was Bobby and shook her hand.

  “He was my best friend,” Bobby said. “This is all my fault.”

  “How can that be?” Claire said.

  “You don’t know?”

  Claire shook her head, not wanting to admit all the gossip she’d listened to.

  “He left his job because of me,” he said. “If I hadn’t got involved with Daphne, he’d still be chief and none of this would have happened.”

  “You don’t know that,” Claire said. “I don’t think they were happy together.”

  Bobby shook his head.

  “Daphne adored him,” Bobby said. “She only left him as an ultimatum, to get him to stop drinking. The thing between us just happened. Too many nights spent worrying about him, looking for him in every sleazy bar he’d passed out in and then dragging him home. We got close because we both loved him. I mean, we do love him. If he dies, I will never forgive myself.”

  Daphne came through the swinging doors and walked straight toward them.

  “You Claire?” she asked.

  Daphne’s mascara was a little smeared, but she was still a beautiful woman. She had dark brown eyes, so dark you couldn’t see where the pupils ended and the irises began. Her fingernails were expertly manicured, and the complicated abstract design exactly matched her toenails. Her hair had been blown out to a shiny waterfall of deep brown, not quite black. Claire felt self-conscious of her own, more casual appearance as Daphne looked her up and down.

  “Yes,” Claire said.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  Daphne didn’t look at anyone else, not even at Bobby; it was as if he did not exist.

  Claire got up and followed her back through the swinging doors. If Daphne was worried anyone would stop her, she didn’t show it. She held her head high as she tip-tapped down the hallway in her spike heels, her long dark hair swinging behind her, and didn’t stop until they reached a curtained cubicle.

  “He looks like hell,” she said to Claire. “Only one person can be in here at a time; if anybody questions you, show them this.”

  She peeled off the visitor’s sticker that was adhered to her blouse and stuck it on Claire’s shirt. She looked Claire up and down.

  “He certainly has a type, doesn’t he?” she said.