September Canvas
Page 18
“Nana, please, you’ll make yourself sick.” Deanna didn’t recognize the voice and deduced it had to belong to Pammie.
“You saw her. You heard what she said. This was a very bad idea, Pammie.” Savannah started to cry again. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“It was brave of you to try. Faythe might still be able to help you out. She did this as a favor to me, and because she’s a nice person.”
“Now that she knows who I am, she won’t want to help. Don’t you understand? They’re together. Together. ” Savannah laughed bitterly. “Of all the people you run into, it’s Deanna Moore’s lover.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“Of course not. It just makes sense in a sick kind of way. Like karma, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” Pammie spoke slowly. “Explain what you mean, please?”
“I’m a bad person. I’ve done bad things. I’m the daughter of a bigot and a bully.”
Deanna wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her wanted to escape to her cabin and go into hiding, but another part wanted to hear what Savannah had to say.
“That doesn’t mean you’re screwed.” Pammie sounded patient, but Deanna could hear the pain behind her words. “Just look at yourself, how you’ve changed.”
“Not enough, obviously. Didn’t you see how she looked at me? Like I was disgusting.” Savannah laughed, a bitter, self-deprecating sound.
“She was shocked to see you. She had no idea you’d be here. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me. I was so busy protecting you, I kept using your nickname. If I’d told Faythe who you were, she’d have arranged this differently.”
Deanna slumped against the wall and let the bag drop to the floor.
Her anger seemed to seep out through her pores; she felt cold, lonely, and remorseful for alienating the only person who believed in her.
Deanna wanted to bang her head to the wall. Instead she turned around and walked into the kitchen. “Savannah.” The two girls snapped their heads to look at her simultaneously.
Savannah stared at her under reddened eyelids. “Ms. Moore,” she said.
“We…I thought you left.”
“I was going to.”
“I see.” Savannah looked at Pammie. “This is Pamela Taylor. Her friends call her Pammie.”
“I remember you, now that I think about it, Pamela, even though you never took any of my classes. After we’ve talked, I should know what I’m supposed to call you,” Deanna said wryly.
“Uh, guess so.” Pammie shifted on the chair, her arm still protectively around Savannah’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down? I mean, if you want to discuss things.”
Deanna had to admire the young woman’s courage. She managed to sound polite in spite of the tense situation. “All right. I’ll just get some coffee, if there is any—”
“There’s plenty. I’ll get it, Ms. Moore.” Pammie jumped up and poured a mug for Deanna as she sat down across from Savannah. “Milk, sugar?”
“Black is fine right now. Thank you.” I can be polite in the weirdest of circumstances too, apparently. “Okay, Savannah. Guess the ball’s in your court.”
Savannah drew a deep breath and looked gratefully at Pammie when she sat back down and took her hand. “First of all, Ms. Moore—”
“Deanna. You’re not my student anymore.”
“Deanna.” Savannah looked uncomfortable. “I did something unforgiveable. I was a spoiled brat who wouldn’t take no for an answer and was more concerned about impressing the crowd I was hanging with, than things like honor and truth.” She shook her head slowly. “And I was deceitful too.”
“Go on.” Deanna pushed carefully. “Tell me why you did what you did.”
“I had such a crush on you. It started in junior high. You weren’t anything like the other teachers. You dressed in a cool way, you were younger and so beautiful, and when you needed an assistant, I made sure to volunteer first. My mother was impressed, as always.” Savannah sniffled, pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket, and blew her nose. “Mother loved the fact that I was getting extra credit and showing what the mayor’s daughter was made of. She also approved of me hanging with the crowd I was with. After all, their parents were among the richest people in town.”
“So what did all this have to do with me?”
“I fell in love with you. I couldn’t figure out what was up, and I didn’t have anybody to talk to. You were all I could think of. You seemed to understand me, and you took an interest in things about me that nobody else gave a damn about.”
Deanna had preferred to spend time with the students during recess rather than sip coffee with the three women who’d worked at the school for almost thirty years and later became the ringleaders in the campaign against her. They were obviously Gloria Mueller’s vassals.
“Why did you assume I had feelings for you?” Deanna clung to her coffee mug as her hands began to tremble.
“I don’t know.” Savannah lowered her eyes. “You were kind to me, supportive, and I thought… I was so sure at the time that you felt the same way I did. My ego was huge, and it took a long time for me to realize that most people in my gang were only friends with me because of who my parents were. Even my boyfriend at the time turned out to be sucking up to Mom.”
“Your mother made my life a living hell.” Deanna forced herself to keep the hatred out of her voice.
“Mine too.” Silent tears began to fall down Savannah’s cheeks. “I’m not trying to blame her for the way I acted. I just want you to know that I understand. She can be very hard to deal with.” That was the understatement of the year. It must be horrible to be her daughter. It might explain a lot about Savannah’s behavior.
“Why did you lie about us getting married, and me practically leaving you at the altar?”
Savannah blushed. “One lie ran into another and gave birth to a third lie, you could say.”
“Huh? Run that by me again.” Deanna leaned back in her chair and glimpsed Faythe enter the kitchen. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. When she looked up and saw Deanna sitting at the kitchen table, she barely flinched.
“Hi,” Deanna said. “I passed the girls and overheard Savannah and Pamela talking.” She hoped Faythe would understand her cryptic statement.
Faythe showed no sign of either understanding or caring about anything Deanna said. Instead she sat down closer to the girls than to her. “So we’re talking.” Faythe’s voice sounded unfamiliar—curt, a little strangled.
“Nana’s trying to explain.” Pammie looked sad. “Not sure we’re getting anywhere, but at least she gets the chance to tell her side and apologize.”
“Good.” Faythe looked encouragingly at Savannah. “Go on, then.”
“All right.” Savannah seemed to feel a little more secure and continued, speaking a little slower. “My so-called friends kept challenging me for proof of my hot affair with the art teacher, with Deanna. In my mind, I hadn’t exactly lied to them, just told them things prematurely. I was certain Deanna was in love with me. I had bought into the myth about myself as homecoming queen, cheerleader, and honor roll student. How could she not love me? What was not to love?” Savannah laughed hollowly. “So when I couldn’t get Deanna to admit to her feelings, I assumed she was being honorable and didn’t want to tarnish the reputation of a student."
“At the same time I was stalling my friends’ questions, I was trying to break up with my boyfriend. He wouldn’t listen, and eventually, out of nowhere, I panicked and told him and two of my friends about Deanna and me getting married in Canada. It was only supposed to be a tiny white lie, to keep him away and my friends off my back.” Savannah sipped the water Pammie had brought her earlier.
“Surely you must’ve realized what a mistake you’d made?” Deanna asked.
“Not really. Since I figured your sense of honor kept you from acting on your feelings, I was giving you a way out.” Savannah blushed. “I know, I know. It sounds deranged. Completely
crazy.”
“So, if I sum it up,” Deanna said slowly, not taking her eyes off Savannah, “you have been brought up to expect to become homecoming queen, cheerleader, an honor student, the wife of a rich man, and follow in your mother’s footsteps, always at her beck and call.”
“Pretty much.” Savannah sounded defeated. “I’m so sorry for messing up everything for you. I’m even sorrier that it took me this long to own up to it. I owe it to Pammie. She never gave up on me.”
“How about the friends with you in the supermarket?”
“They don’t know the truth, but they will.” Savannah pressed her lips together. “Lara already suspects something’s off sometimes. They’re going to hate me, but that’s my own fault.”
“While we’re on the subject of fault,” Deanna said, “why aren’t you in college?”
“I didn’t feel like it. I like what I do now at the animal shelter, especially working with the dogs.” Her face lit up and for the first time since Deanna had sat down, she caught a glimpse of the Savannah she’d known two years ago, stunningly beautiful with sparkling eyes and a dynamic personality.
“And you’re punishing yourself, thinking you don’t deserve to go to college or the university because of the trouble you caused. And you’re sticking it to your parents, right, sweetie?” Pammie asked softly.
“I suppose.”
Deanna sighed. “That doesn’t make things right, and it’s a waste of a good mind. Don’t do this to yourself. Get on with your life, and don’t look back.”
“It’s not that easy!” Savannah sat ramrod straight in her chair. “I’ve managed to move out of my parents’ house and get a small apartment. I support myself. I even have money to give to my mother’s charities. I’ve found a way to not despise myself all the time.” Intense and trembling, Savannah was obviously not about to move on.
“What about me, Nana?” Pammie asked, her voice low.
“You know I love you.” Savannah looked away.
“I’m not sure. You lock me out. You won’t even talk about certain things. You let your mother’s bigotry rule your life. You speak like you’re independent, but you live a life of perpetual guilt, endlessly punishing yourself.”
“I thought you understood!” Savannah stared at Pammie as if she was a perfect stranger. “Haven’t you been listening? I did something unspeakable to someone who was nothing but nice to me. That should tell you something.”
“It tells me you were a screwed-up kid two years ago, but you’re not the same person now.”
“I agree.” Deanna couldn’t stand to see Savannah beat herself up.
“You do?” Savannah asked.
“You’re a different person, and so am I.”
“Of course you are,” Savannah whispered. “You’ve had to live with the false rumors and innuendo all this time.”
“Yes.” There was no point denying facts.
“Why?” Faythe asked calmly. “Why you didn’t press charges, or at least leave town?”
Deanna shook her head. “That’s got nothing to do with Savannah’s issues.”
“I think it does.” Faythe spoke casually, but something in her eyes made Deanna suspect that she knew the answer, or had guessed it. If she’s guessed it, she ought to know why I can’t say anything now.
“I can’t.” Deanna tried to convey her dilemma to Faythe with a glance.
“Oh.” Savannah covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”
“What? Are you okay?” Pammie wrapped her arm around Savannah’s shoulders.
“Yes. No. Oh, damn it.” Savannah stared at Deanna, her eyes welling up with new tears. “I know. Please, I want to be wrong, but I think I know.”
“Tell us what you think you know, Savannah.” Faythe sounded concerned, but placed a steadying hand on top of Savannah’s clasped fists. Savannah closed her eyes and large teardrops ran down her pale cheeks. “She must’ve read my diary. I should’ve known.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Savannah’s pain and frustration seemed to ooze out of every pore on her flawless skin, creating an aura of despair. She didn’t take her eyes off Deanna, but clung to Pammie’s hands as she spoke.“Mom must’ve read my diary and that means…she knew the truth all along. Or at least, the last year and a half.” Savannah hiccupped.
“Here, let me get you some water,” Pammie said, and tried to gently pry Savannah’s fingers from her own.
“I’ll get it,” Faythe said. “I think we all need something to drink. Juice, water, soda?”
“Orange juice, please. I’ll help you,” Deanna offered.
Sensing Deanna needed a few moments to digest the latest tidbit of information, Faythe nodded and they walked to the other end of the kitchen. Faythe opened the refrigerator. “We’re in luck, two cartons of orange juice.” Faythe filled one pitcher with iced water and a second with juice and ice cubes. “Glasses?” she prompted Deanna, who stood staring out the window.
“Oh, right.” Deanna took four glasses from a cabinet and carried them over to the table. Faythe followed suit with the pitchers and sat down. She moved her chair closer to Deanna’s, concerned by her stunned expression. They all sipped their drinks in silence, evidently regrouping.
“Feeling better?” Pammie asked Savannah. “You looked so pale.”
“I’m okay.” Savannah played with the rim of her glass. “Just trying to come to terms with what my mother did. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about it before. Why did she let this go on?”
“Oh, I can think of a few reasons.” Deanna had a knowing look on her face.
“Far too many people with hidden agendas here.” Pammie sighed.
“Speaking of that,” Deanna said, “I don’t remember you being part of Savannah’s clique in high school.”
“I wasn’t. I worshipped her from afar. Once we graduated, I mustered enough courage to make my move.” Pammie grinned at Savannah, who blushed. “She was still pining for Deanna.”
“Pammie!” Savannah hid her face in her hands.”You’re making it worse.”
“Sorry.”
“I made such a mess of things. I must’ve been out of my mind.”
“Well,” Deanna said slowly, “you seem to be back in charge of your mind right now. You’ve figured out that your mother is a lying, manipulative—” She stopped herself. “I could go on, but I won’t.”
“So if Gloria knows you’re innocent, Deanna, I don’t think it’s hard to figure out why she kept the illusion going.” Faythe counted on her fingers. “She doesn’t want to have her daughter branded a liar in this little town. And she can still claim that Savannah really isn’t gay, but an innocent caught in an Evil Lesbian’s yarn.” Savannah winced, but remained quiet.
“Third,” Faythe continued, “she doesn’t want her peers to laugh at her and call her a gullible fool, and finally, she honestly seems thrilled to be able to rally her peers against Deanna. Makes you wonder which of these motives might be the main one.”
“Losing face.” Savannah straightened in her chair and spoke clearly for the first time. “My mother is all about appearances. She’d go through fire and water to maintain her position in Grantville. When my father was elected mayor two terms in a row, she was the happiest she’s ever been. Of course, when I created the scandal of the year she must have been really let down.”
“And we still don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle,” Faythe said. “Until you decide to trust us enough to share your motives for not pressing charges for slander, et cetera, we’ll keep on guessing.”
“It’s not just about me.” Deanna looked sad, but less tormented now.
“All right.” Faythe looked around the pale faces. She felt like a television moderator as she tried to get the others to sum the situation up. “What have we accomplished here today?”
“We’ve broken the silence.” Savannah smiled carefully. “I’ve come clean about my part in this. I have no more secrets… Well, maybe something I want to tell Pammi
e later, but nothing that concerns this.”
“I feel like Nana. Nothing can make a rumor fester like not facing it.”
“And you?” Faythe turned her attention toward Deanna.
“I appreciate Savannah taking full responsibility for her actions. It doesn’t change anything, from a practical point of view, but it does emotionally.”
“I wish I could redo everything when it would’ve mattered.” Savannah reached out a tentative hand and Faythe held her breath. When Deanna took Savannah’s hand, squeezed and held it for a moment, she exhaled so loudly the others looked questioningly at her. “Faythe? You okay?” Savannah asked.
“Fine. I’m fine.” It was only partially true. No matter how much she hoped Deanna and Savannah would figure things out, Faythe still felt as if she’d left part of her soul scattered on the floor where she and Deanna had yelled at each other so bitterly.
“We should come up with a plan how to clear Deanna’s name.” Pammie looked resolute.
“No.” Deanna looked even more stubborn. “We shouldn’t. Nothing can be done about it now.”
“But why ever not?” Faythe blurted. “You’ve been wrongly accused for years, and now that Savannah’s come clean with you, what reason could you possibly have to refuse?”
“I just do. Take my word for it, and please…if you care…if you can forgive what I said earlier and still care about me, don’t pursue this. Please.” Deanna wasn’t pleading, she was virtually begging, and Faythe couldn’t refuse.
“All right, all right,” Faythe said. “I can’t promise I won’t ask you for an explanation later, though. And about the matter of forgiving, we’ll talk more about that later.”