Necessary Detour

by Hornsby, Kim

  Connie walked into the room and Pete considered changing the channel, embarrassed to be caught. “That’s Goldy, right?” she asked.

  “Yup.” Pete gulped at the sight of the rock star in that little costume, parading around with her backup dancers. She wore a gold headdress and a very small dress that covered only the illegal parts, with high-heeled black boots that hugged most of her legs. How could she dance in those things?

  Connie plunked down next to Tony. “Wow. She is really something, isn’t she?” Connie looked as starstruck as Pete felt.

  He didn’t dare comment. Her guitar player, now her ex-husband, had the whole black leather thing going. He looked like the type who’d run off with a teenage girl and not think twice. As the camera panned in to his fingers for the guitar solo, Goldy was barely visible, grinding on him from behind, with one arm around his shoulders. When Burn’s solo ended, Goldy locked lips with him and the crowd cheered.

  “Whoops! Maybe we should change the channel?” Connie glanced from the remote to Tony.

  Then Goldy broke from Burn, and as she backed up, the guitarist advanced playfully, like he wouldn’t let her leave. She turned, the dancers rushed in and swooped her up above them, carrying her around the stage.

  “A love like this

  Comes just one time

  A love so strong

  You gotta hang on

  Hang on

  Hang on forever,

  Forever, forever, forever…”

  Pete knew the song. It had been a huge hit two years before, all over the radio, and if he remembered correctly her world tour had been called the Forever Tour. Had she written the song about her husband? Because his love definitely did not last forever. The song ended and Goldy struck a pose. Words flashed on the screen.

  “Goldy in Tokyo—The Forever Tour”

  Connie broke the spell. “Tony, do you recognize that singer?”

  He looked at his mother like she was crazy. “No.”

  “That’s our neighbor Nikki.” Connie smiled at the Tony’s open-mouthed, pop-eyed reaction.

  Chapter 11

  Nikki didn’t even have spaghetti in the cupboard and she’d asked the Bayers for a spaghetti dinner. She’d have to use what she had—manicotti. It was too late to go to town for groceries. She’d already blown the authenticity of the meal by using sauce from a jar. This wasn’t a good time to experiment with homemade sauce. Nikki had stowed the jar in the recycling bin to hide the fact Ragu had done most of the work for her. The manicotti was slightly overcooked, as Nikki tried to stuff the cheese mixture into the tubes, cursing her ineptitude in the kitchen.

  “Dammed. Why can’t I cook?” she asked Elvis, who waited for something to drop to the floor. “It’s my own fault after twenty years with personal chefs who I ignored until it was time to eat.”

  The manicotti flopped around with her efforts. “Dammit, again,” she said. “I don’t have anchovies for the Caesar salad. What was I thinking, Elvis?” The little pug stood by her feet with his red and white checked neck scarf, looking like an Italian waiter. At least to Nikki, he did.

  It was only 6:10. Good. She was ahead of schedule.

  The table was set, the manicotti in the oven to bake. She’d go change out of her shorts. Salad could be made at the last minute. Elvis almost tripped her in his haste to get ahead on the stairs. “Slow down, Elvis. It’s just the Bayers.” Pete would wear jeans and his amulet necklace. The Yoruba Luck Ring. Connie would wear black jeans and her blue sweater, like always. Every time Nikki saw her, she wore the same thing. Except for the wig. It was off in private, and on when she left the house.

  Pulling off her jeans, Nikki jumped into the shower and tried to imagine the conversation they’d have over dinner. “Have you done any fishing here? The ice cream is good at the Double Scoop town. Did you know I’m a famous rock star?”

  Nikki dried herself and pulled on a sparkly top, but her reflection looked overdressed for a dinner with neighbors and she switched to jeans and a black V-neck sweater. After slipping into a pair of black velvet mules, she dried and straightened her hair. Hot rollers usually did the trick but Nikki didn’t want to give the evening that kind of attention. Nothing more than what was necessary.

  At the last minute, she applied a little eye liner, mascara and clear lip gloss. For reasons she didn’t want to admit, she was trying to look pretty. Understated, but still pretty. This might be the last time she saw the Bayers if she left tomorrow, which was now a definite possibility.

  She’d been thinking all day about going. The photographers today probably got some shots of the house and although they were gone now, it was only a matter of time before they returned. After the Bayers went back to the log house, she’d pack her bag.

  Nikki had made a list of possible locations that weren’t too far from Quinn. Vancouver, Canada, or one of the islands off the Washington coast would be a good choice if only she knew of a house. Tomorrow, she’d check online to see if anything looked private enough.

  Quinn had called earlier to thank her mother for the Yoruba amulet and, in conversation, asked why she was so excited at the prospect of having dinner guests. “They’re just the weird people next door, Mom.”

  “I’m not really excited. I just haven’t seen anyone in so long,” Nikki protested.

  “If you’re this thrilled about cooking for strange neighbors, I’d say you better come to Seattle to see me.”

  “I will, sweetie. Now that I’m pretty sure Pete isn’t writing a book about me or watching me for the FBI, I just feel relieved.”

  “You better be careful, Mrs. Nosey Parker.” Quinn had no idea about Pete pulling a gun on her mother earlier.

  Seven o’clock came and went.

  Seven ten came and went, and Nikki began to wonder if they were actually coming. The Caesar salad was ready, and she turned off the oven to keep the manicotti and garlic bread from overcooking. She changed the music from The Red Hot Chili Peppers to U2 and when she was folding napkins at the table, a faint knock sounded on the back door. Nikki startled and ran to disarm the security system.

  On the monitor, Connie stood with a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands, the kind that grew around the lake. Nikki was touched by the gesture and threw open the door.

  Connie held the bouquet out, blocking her own face in the porch light. “For you.”

  “How nice. Thank you.” Nikki peeked around the flowers to see Connie’s smile.

  With a Nintendo in hand, Tony gave her a strange grin as he passed. She could tell a fan when she saw one, and he’d probably just found out she was Goldy. She preferred the Bayers not know, or at least not say anything, but that seemed like an unreal request.

  “I’m glad you could come.”

  Connie wore black jeans, but instead of the blue sweater, she wore a black blouse with a large crucifix around her neck. Nikki was strangely pleased that her neighbor was treating the evening with a sense of sociability. The wig was back on. Why? She considered snatching it off Connie’s head and saying, “Can I relieve you of this pretense too?”

  “Nice house,” Pete said under his breath as they walked down the hall.

  “Thank you. I was telling your wife the other day that my ex-husband and I built it, and then we stuffed it with everything we love.”

  Coming into the great room, Pete stopped when he saw their reflections in the front windows. Connie blanched to see his reaction.

  Nikki was used to trusting the security system in the yard, but, seeing Pete’s face, she was reminded that they weren’t entirely safe from spying eyes. She crossed the room and lowered the blinds to envelope them in the safety and privacy of the room.

  “Dinner is almost ready. Would anyone like a drink?” Earlier, she’d retrieved a bottle of wine from the closet stash but all three Bayers requested Sprites.

  Tony scanned Nikki’s book shelves, announcing with pleasure when he saw one he liked. “Lord of the Rings. Awesome,” he said. “And Eragon.”


  Nikki nodded and handed the boy his Sprite. “They’re my daughter’s books.”

  “Tony loves to read.” Pete nodded.

  “If you see one you like, feel free to borrow it,” Nikki said.

  “This is such a lovely place, almost like a lodge, isn’t it, Pete,” Connie said, before Tony could answer.

  Choosing the seat on the couch next to his wife, he nodded, looking around the room.

  Nikki retreated to the kitchen and took the manicotti out of the oven. She couldn’t believe she was actually entertaining people. Even though Birch House was built as the haven for the three Burnsides, it was strangely interesting to have guests inside the walls. When she and Burn had finished building the house, they’d moved in all the wonderful things they’d missed from years of living out of hotel suites—comfy furniture, board games, framed photographs, what other families took for granted when they aren’t living amongst a stranger’s choice of furnishings for years on end.

  Nikki grabbed the pita chips and dip from the granite countertop. “Are you thinking of buying something on the lake?” she asked.

  “Maybe.” Pete glanced at his wife blankly.

  “It’s peaceful,” Connie agreed.

  The conversation continued awkwardly, until tension heightened when Nikki asked, “Where were you before this?”

  All three guests answered in unison. “Tacoma.”

  Nikki laughed, unable to help herself. It sounded so ready.

  Connie laughed with her.

  “What type of work do you do, Nikki?” Pete looked genuinely interested, his eyes searching her face.

  “I’m writing the score to a movie, right now. I’m a musician.” Nikki waited for a reaction, but no one commented and she continued. “That’s why I appreciate the peacefulness here at the lake.”

  Connie reached for a cracker. “The photographers today were trying to take pictures of you?”

  “Yes. Thanks for helping.” She almost burst out laughing again, thinking how comical it was for the four of them to have this stilted conversation without revealing any personal information. Just doling out small bits of nothing that led nowhere. “How’s the computer work going?” Nikki persisted.

  Pete was ready with his answer. “Good.”

  “Writing a book, I heard.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Actually, more like a software manual.”

  Pete didn’t ask where she got the information, and Nikki found that odd. Connie and Tony meandered over to a shelf that held framed pictures of her with Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Fleetwood Mac, and several presidents. Just then the stove timer went off, and Pete jumped out of his chair.

  “That’s just the stove, Pete,” she said. “Excuse me.” As she passed him, Nikki whispered, “I hope you didn’t bring your gun to my dinner party.”

  He looked defensive. “I have that to protect my family.”

  Nikki shot him a look that said she wasn’t buying it and left to put dinner on the table.

  Pete directed Connie to sit facing the shrouded window across from him. “And Tony, you sit here.” He definitely called the shots. And they listened.

  Nikki placed the manicotti, salad, and garlic bread in front of her guests and sat at the end. “Elvis, go lie down in your bed.” The little dog backed up and found his cushion on the floor.

  “This looks delicious, Nikki.” Pete sounded like a regular person, not guarded and jumpy, but a grateful dinner guest.

  “Well, I have to admit I’m a beginner cook, so I’m hoping it tastes good.” Nikki passed Connie the basket of garlic bread.

  “Mom is a great cook.” Tony took a mouthful of manicotti.

  “Yes, she is,” Pete concurred, and Nikki felt a tiny stab of jealousy, as she caught him smiling at his wife.

  “Thank you, boys.” Connie turned to Nikki. “You have to love eating to be a good cook.”

  “Then there’s hope for me.” Nikki laughed as she thought about her voracious appetite of late.

  After the initial pleasantries were out in the open, the conversation was limited. Uncomfortable. Counting the minutes until the end of dinner, Nikki realized she should never have asked them to come. And they shouldn’t have accepted. Why had they? The four people around the table were an odd group. Interaction was painfully forced. It wasn’t until dessert, when Nikki asked how Pete and Connie met, that bad turned to worse.

  Connie glanced to her husband and Pete took the lead.

  “Mutual friends introduced us.” Pete took another mouthful of cheesecake.

  This was obviously the short version. Four words hardly summed up a courtship. They’d left out the part that Connie had a small son or that they’d had a big wedding in Tacoma or fell in love immediately or dated for a year. Or whatever. There were no details. Nikki wouldn’t let it go. After all, they’d come to dinner. They must have known there’d be conversation. “Did you live in Tacoma and work in software design when you met?”

  “No, actually, we lived in Bellevue after we married and that’s when I worked for Microsoft.” Pete didn’t look up. “And you? Did you always write movie scores?”

  “Kind of,” Nikki said, wondering what kind of game they were playing. “Did you marry in Bellevue?”

  “Yup,” Pete said. “Have you ever performed?”

  She shot him a look to shut up. “A bit.”

  When dessert was over, they moved to the great room and, while pouring tea, Nikki tried to catch Connie’s eye, but she was avoiding contact more than usual. Tony leafed through Quinn’s copy of a book about dragons.

  “That’s a wonderful series,” Nikki said to Tony. “Have you always liked books?”

  “Yeah. They say.” He didn’t look up.

  “Me too. I think my favorite story when I was a little girl was either Cinderella or Goldilocks,” Nikki smiled at Connie.

  Connie’s head snapped up, and she gave Nikki a look that was slightly reproachful.

  Pete caught Connie’s gaze and stared, hard.

  Had she told him the code word? “Did you have a favorite fairytale, Connie?” Nikki said.

  “No, I didn’t.” She looked defiantly at Nikki. “I’m not much for fairytales.”

  “You must have had a favorite as a little girl?” Nikki asked.

  Pete followed the conversation closely, his eyes narrowing.

  “Snow White.” Connie stared at the floor.

  “Mom, you like those romance stories.” Tony teased her in his quiet way, and Connie blushed.

  “Yes, I do like those, sweetie.” She ruffled his hair in abject fondness.

  “Me too,” Nikki agreed. “Romance makes the world go round.” Without thinking, Nikki glanced at Pete.

  “Time to go,” Pete announced.

  Nikki wasn’t surprised. They’d already stayed too long.

  ****

  Goldy was hiding at Louisa Lake in northern Washington. Obstacles presented themselves everywhere. But knowing her location had changed everything. Having Goldy alone in a wilderness cabin for days on end would be perfect. Much could be accomplished if things went well. Preparations were needed. Soon all labor would be rewarded. Revenge would be sweet.

  Out the window, the morning smog was thick. Los Angeles was oppressive. The heat, the crowds of people, the traffic. It was too much for someone not used to city life amongst the masses. A Goldy poster on the wall had faded in the afternoon sun. Was there need for another poster with vivid colors or would it all be over soon? The plan to leave L.A. was like having a vacation itinerary in hand, even though the time spent in Washington wouldn’t be anything like a vacation. It would be more like fulfilling a dream. Retribution. Quinn would be broken gently to the point of giving information. The problem wasn’t Quinn. It was the bitch, Goldy.

  A phone rang across the room. Someone else picked it up. Answering the phone was not for someone who was leaving soon, in search of Goldy’s hiding place. In search of justice.

  ****

  Nikki opened the
deck door to let the cool morning air of dawn drift in. When the kettle whistled, she made a cup of tea, pulled on her gum boots, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and headed down to the dock in her pajamas. The mist drifted and caressed the surface of the water as Nikki studied its patterns, inspired to sing.

  Elvis had long since disappeared into the bushes after something. She reminded herself that the house across the bay had three sleeping people. She compromised by humming softly to herself.

  Last night’s dinner party had been a strange evening and sleep hadn’t found her until sometime after one o’clock. Her voice felt tired, raspier than usual, reminding her of Pete’s scratchy voice. She’d wanted to ask him if he had chronic throat problems, but it was such a personal question. Besides, all answers given last night had been lies.

  Nikki sat on the dock and kept her singing low, taking the melody only as high as she could this early in the morning, then dropping to the bottom notes to add some mysterious minors for effect. The blanket of fog was slowly dissipating to reveal the flat dark surface of the lake, like the surface of a black mirror.

  She dangled her toes in the water. It was too cold for swimming, but adequate for toe dangling. Taking a deep breath, she sang quietly. A pure sweet note, escaped her lips, lifting higher, then lower, running along the surface of the water and up, up, up to the mountains across the lake. Closing her eyes, Nikki let the music overtake her as she found new combinations of minor notes to match the mysterious mist hovering over the lake.

  When she opened her eyes, ripples indicated a fish had jumped. The watery circles grew bigger and just as she hit a quiet little high note, a river otter surfaced ten feet off her swirling feet. Just beyond the drop off. Startled, she stopped singing.

  Her eyes locked with the otter’s and then it dove below the surface, the tip of its long tail the last thing to leave for the lake’s bottom. The otter was gone, knowing when to leave a party early. Did she? Certainly she’d left show biz while she was still having fun, but what about staying at the lake when things were less than secure? She needed to leave. Reporters were most likely on their way. Grateful to have had a month at her beloved lake house, that had to be enough for now. She might get back before the snow fell.