September Canvas

by Gun Brooke

  “So do you.” Savannah returned the hug, then wrapped her arm around Pammie’s waist. The open display of affection spoke volumes and Faythe sensed that these two were about to figure out things in general, and between them in particular.

  “Deanna, the girls are here!” Faythe called out.

  “Oh, great. Coffee, ladies? Tea?”

  “Coffee for me, please.” Pammie grinned and bounced out into the kitchen. “I’ll help.”

  Savannah and Faythe looked at each other under raised eyebrows.

  “Coffee will do that to you.” Faythe shook her head. “I think Deanna’s had four mugs of double-espresso lattes today. That’s normal for me, but not for her.”

  “She’s nervous. Who can blame her?” Savannah said softly. “I’ll have some tea.”

  “How do you feel about today?” Faythe walked to the living room with Savannah in tow.

  “I’m okay. I’ve been working toward this moment ever since we left here last time. It was the only way this could happen, really, so I figured I’d better get ready for it.” Savannah looked serious, but also calm and prepared. “I’m not looking forward to what Mother will say, especially not what she’ll say to Deanna, but this has to stop.”

  “You’re a brave girl. I loathed you once for what you put Deanna through, but you’re doing everything possible to help her now, which is what really matters.” Faythe sat down on the biggest of the couches and patted the seat next to her. “Despite your mother’s best intentions, you’re a good person.”

  “Thanks.” Savannah blushed faintly. “I worried about becoming completely estranged from my mother for putting her on the spot like this, but I can’t see any other way. And we actually can’t get much more estranged than we are. I rarely see her or talk to her.”

  “And your father?”

  “Is a man of his generation. Doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to get involved, and is content to let Mother run the show.” Savannah sighed. “I was never Daddy’s girl. He didn’t have time when he was running for office and realizing his political ambitions, except when he needed to display his happy home, complete with his stunning wife and well-brought-up daughter.”

  “Ah, the joys of politics. Seen enough of what goes on behind the scenes there to never want that type of a career.”

  “As a matter of fact, I might run for office one day,” Savannah said. “Who knows, I might become the first lesbian president of the United States.”

  “Hear, hear,” Deanna said, entering the living room with a tray loaded with six steaming mugs next to the large plate of assorted sandwiches.

  “They’re here, I take it?” Faythe asked, checking Deanna’s expression carefully as she placed the tray on the coffee table.

  “Yup. I’ll go greet them, all right? Be right back.” She walked toward the back door, and Faythe debated if she should go with her.

  She would’ve asked me if she needed me. Faythe put a damper on her protectiveness and remained on the couch.

  It only took Deanna a minute to bring her mother and Percy in to join them. “Mom, Percy, you remember Faythe? And these are our friends Pammie and Savannah. Pammie, Savannah, this is my mother, Angela, and her…my stepfather, Percy.”

  After shaking hands with everybody, Angela sat next to Faythe, and Percy chose one of the armchairs. Gazing around the room, he looked impressed. “What a great place you have here, Ms. Hamilton,” he said, clearly set on keeping a polite tone.

  “Faythe, please. And it’s not mine, exactly, it’s my aunt’s. She’s in Florida this time of year.”

  “Please, have some coffee. It’s fresh from Faythe’s aunt’s state-of-the-art espresso machine.” Deanna gestured at the table, her smile a little too wide.

  “Thanks, honey. Sandwiches look lovely.” Angela sipped from her mug and nodded approvingly. “This is good coffee.”

  “Why don’t we get right to the point, instead of tiptoeing around each other in this rather uncomfortable way?” Faythe said.

  “All right.” Deanna drew one leg up underneath her as she sat down in the other armchair. “I suppose I should start.”

  “I admit I was startled yesterday,” Angela said. “But as long as you and Miranda are all right, we can figure things out.” She glanced at her husband. “Right, Percy?”

  “Of course.” Faythe couldn’t quite figure out Percy’s tone of voice, but he seemed serious.

  “All right, then.” Deanna exchanged a quick glance with Faythe before she continued. “You remember the woman you met at the picnic, Gloria Mueller?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s been blackmailing me for the last two years.” Deanna’s complexion turned grayish and she pressed against the backrest of the chair.“What?” Angela jerked, nearly spilling her coffee. “She’s after money? You’re successful, but not rich. Or are you?” Angela looked confused.

  “No, Mom, I’m not rich by any standard. I do okay, but that’s it. And no, Gloria Mueller is not after money. She’s quite well off.”

  “My mother wants to keep her position as the leading lady of Grantville, the spider of the web, the queen bee. Whatever you call it, she’ll do anything to maintain her position of power.” Savannah looked as pale as Deanna now, scooting closer to Pammie.

  “Your mother? You’re Gloria Mueller’s daughter?” Angela spoke slowly. “And this woman is under the impression that Deanna stands between her and her position in Grantville? Who the hell is this megalomaniac?”

  Faythe smiled inwardly at Angela’s astute word choice. “Why don’t we give you the short, fact-filled version?” she suggested, then told Angela and Percy what Savannah had done two years ago, and what had transpired the last few weeks. Angela and Percy listened without interrupting, but Angela’s eyes kept darkening.

  “And what is she threatening to do, exactly, that keeps Deanna from taking her to court?” Percy asked when Faythe quieted.

  “She knows that Mom and I haven’t been on speaking terms for years, and she also knows how important Miranda is to me.”

  “She always was everything to you, from the day she was born,” Angela said softly.

  “Yes.” Deanna pushed trembling fingers through her hair. Faythe couldn’t remain on the couch any longer. She moved and sat down on the armrest of Deanna’s chair, placing her hand on her shoulder in a clear gesture of support. “Anyway, she knows this about me, and she thinks it wouldn’t be hard to convince you two to see things her way.”

  “How dare she—?”

  “Until last week, wouldn’t you have believed her? Or at least listened to what she had to say?” Deanna spoke quietly, and the pain in her voice made Faythe squeeze her shoulder gently.

  “I…I suppose.” Angela sobbed once. “Go on.”

  “So, what if I had taken her to court, called Savannah a liar in public, and raised holy hell like I wanted to?”

  “I’m so sorry…” Savannah had apparently had enough and burst into tears. “It’s all my fault. No matter what, it’s all my fault.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Pammie threw her arms around Savannah and held her tight. “Come here.” Her fiery eyes darted between them, daring anyone in the room to say anything accusingly to Savannah.

  “Child, you’re a hundred times more honorable than your mother,” Angela said. “That woman lacks basic human decency as far as I can tell, but you don’t. You did something that was very wrong, but you’ve come forward and dealt with it. And you’re here, helping to save my daughters from any further harm.” Angela turned to Deanna. “So, what else does Gloria threaten to do?”

  “She knows I’m helpless when it comes to Miranda and said if I cause any trouble whatsoever, she would have me banned from visiting Miranda. You know what that would do to her. She said she would also make sure Miranda knew I was evil and did horrible things to young girls, and that she wasn’t safe with me and couldn’t see me again.” Deanna tipped her head back against Faythe and closed her eyes briefly. She squeezed Faythe’s thigh
through her jeans before she continued.

  “She relied on the fact that you and I weren’t talking. But that’s not the only reason Faythe managed to convince me to invite you.” Deanna looked up at Faythe again, as if debating how to go on. She rose and stepped over to her mother, where she knelt next to her and took Angela’s hands. “I was so hurt that you chose Percy over Miranda and me. I was furious that you sent Miranda away after we had been a family, our little trio against the world, for seven years. I felt you replaced us with Percy’s two perfect girls, and that you didn’t want us anymore.”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “I know that now. I mean, intellectually I realize that. I’ve seen how Miranda has thrived at the school, learned skills I never thought possible. It was the right decision to give her that opportunity.” Deanna rubbed her thumbs over her mother’s hands. “And my feeling of being replaced won’t go away easily.”

  “Neither will the pain you caused when you gave me that ultimatum. You opted out of our life, Deanna. One day you called me every name in the book, and the next you were gone and I didn’t even know where you were for months.”

  “We can’t deny that we’ve caused a lot of pain. We can’t erase it and pretend it never happened.”

  “I suppose. But maybe we can learn to live with it eventually?” Angela’s hopeful tone was heartbreaking, and Faythe wondered what was going through Deanna’s mind.

  “I’m willing to try.” Deanna spoke abruptly, but kept her physical connection with her mother. “Now, our main concern is Miranda. We can’t allow Gloria access to her. You have full custody of her, Mom.”

  “Perhaps now is the best time to talk to Deanna about our plans, honey?” Percy said, and everyone looked at him.

  “Plans?” Deanna snapped her head back toward her mother.

  “Percy’s right. Come here. Sit next to me.” Angela patted the couch cushion. “Trista and Laney want to attend a private school in Manhattan, and they both have made such good grades that they’ve received full scholarships. Percy’s office is opening a new branch in New York, which they want him to head up.” Angela looked almost afraid when she tried to smile despite trembling lips. “I want to move Miranda to another facility, very much like this one, but with actual college classes available for young people at her level.”

  “Move her?” Deanna looked shell-shocked. “When did you know about this?”

  “About the girls applying, I’ve known for quite some time. But about the scholarships and Percy’s job? Three days.”

  “Ah.” Deanna stood and walked over to the window. “Guess that’s the answer. All you have to do is move Miranda out of Gloria’s reach and—”

  “No, no. That’s not the answer to everything. This woman has caused you harm. She will not get away with it.” Angela was fuming.

  “If we’re going to have a chance to function as a family, all six of us, we must show solidarity with every single family member and not allow anyone to sacrifice herself.”

  “Okay.” Deanna looked at Faythe, her eyes black with stormy emotions. “Okay, Mom.”

  “We’re here to plot and plan, I suppose.” Percy produced a small PDA phone. “Planning is what I do. I have a flow sheet that, when properly applied, will keep us from forgetting any angles and minimize the risk of making a mistake.”

  Faythe had to pinch her thigh hard so she wouldn’t giggle.

  Suddenly Pammie and Samantha were sitting on the armrests on either side of Percy as he drew up the basic plan, and their interest in his tech toy seemed to charm him.

  Faythe moved to Angela’s other side, cupping Deanna’s cheek briefly. Angela gazed warmly at them. “While they’re doing the planning, why don’t you two tell me what your relationship is exactly?” She sounded genuinely interested. “Are you a couple?”

  “Mom!”

  “Well, I have years of questions to ask. So, are you?” Angela looked quite hopeful at the thought.

  “Not exactly—” Deanna began.

  “Yes. Yes, we are a couple.” Faythe heard herself speak, but couldn’t fathom her own words. This was probably the scariest, most spontaneous thing she’d ever done. Deanna’s eyes darkened even more, yet a new light went on as soon as Faythe spoke. No matter how their plan to deal with Gloria turned out, Faythe vowed she would not be responsible for snuffing out that light.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Miranda was dressed in black jeans and a light blue T-shirt adorned with a flowery pattern she had created herself during art class, using potatoes as stamps. Deanna’s heart was ready to explode with all the overflowing love she felt for her sister. It had taken Deanna more than half an hour to convince Miranda that packing a suitcase with her most beloved possessions and a few changes of clothes was part of what Miranda labeled “surprise fun,” a term they always used when it was necessary to break Miranda’s routines. Miranda was always suspicious when it came to surprises, and today had not been any different. Now Deanna snapped the suitcase closed, and with an arm around her, she guided her out of the room she’d lived in for nearly ten years, except for summer breaks and holidays.

  Outside, Irene Costa was waiting to say good-bye, clearly struggling not to cry and upset Miranda. Faythe stood next to her, according to their plan, carefully recorded into Percy’s flow sheet four days ago. She had informed Irene of every sordid detail while Deanna helped Miranda.

  “Deanna,” Irene said, her voice choked. “I never liked her, but I had no idea. I wish you’d told me. I could have kept her away from Miranda.”

  “You couldn’t work twenty-four/seven, Irene.” Deanna shook her head sadly. “There would always have been the risk that she would sneak into Miranda’s room and scare the living daylights out of her. Your duty was toward Miranda, and you’ve been great. Absolutely fantastic. Miranda’s done so well here, and you’re very much the reason for that.”

  “I’m going to miss her.” Irene’s voice broke and she drew a deep breath. “Here she is now.” She smiled brightly at Miranda, who left her room behind Deanna, carrying her beloved pink roller bag. “Got everything, honey?”

  “Yes. My bag.” Miranda patted the handle lovingly.

  “Your pink bag. Goes so well with your outfit, Miranda.” Irene looked like she wanted to hug Miranda and not let go, but instead she merely kissed her forehead. “Have fun and let’s talk on the phone, all right?”

  “Yes. All right.” Miranda nodded. “Chat.”

  “Exactly. We’ll chat.” Irene stood and waved as they walked down the corridor.

  Faythe helped Miranda stow her bag into the trunk of Deanna’s car, and it warmed Deanna’s heart to see how readily Miranda seemed to accept Faythe’s presence. Faythe, in turn, behaved as if she’d been around Miranda all her life, mindful of her personal space, which was larger than most people’s.

  “Where do you want to sit, Miranda?” Faythe asked. “Backseat or up front?”

  Miranda halted and looked confused. “We have to buckle up,” she said uncertainly.

  “Miranda always sits in the back. The front seat is probably a little too daunting for her.” Deanna pointed at the passenger door to the right.

  “Take your seat, young lady.”

  Miranda opened the door and climbed in. She buckled up meticulously and draped her pink scarf across her handbag. This was her routine every time she rode in a car, and Deanna knew it provided comfort and a sense of security.

  They drove off, heading for Faythe’s house where the others were waiting. Deanna worried how Miranda would respond to the fact that her mother was there as part of the surprise, as well as Savannah and Pammie.

  “Are you all right, baby?” Faythe asked quietly, briefly touching Deanna’s thigh. “You’re gripping that steering wheel so tight, I may have to pry you off when we get to the house.”

  “Oh, right.” Deanna loosened her grip. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit nervous.”

  “No wonder. But we’ll be fine. Mi
randa will be fine too, and so will your folks. I was impressed with how your mother took charge and also how incredibly organized Percy is. That flow sheet on his phone was something.”

  Deanna had to laugh. “That’s Percy for you. Before we got crosswise with each other, we had some interesting conversations and…well, I suppose if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I wouldn’t have found him half bad.”

  “It’s not too late to get to know each other.” Faythe suddenly looked wistful. “I wonder if I’ll ever get on the right foot with my father again. I mean, my mother I can deal with. She’s a bit shallow, but since I know that, I can factor it into everything she says.” She sighed. “My father, though, is a whole different ballgame. I don’t think he cares about me as a person. I’m an asset. He’ll use my ‘fame’ in a heartbeat to gain advantages, which really sucks. I only want him to see me as his daughter, someone he loves, regardless. Talk about Utopia.” Faythe looked out the passenger window, drumming her fingertips on the armrest.

  “We all want to be validated by our parents.” Deanna wanted to smooth away the wrinkles that marred Faythe’s forehead. “You’re not asking for anything that ought to be too much for them to figure out. If they can’t bring themselves to see you for the amazing woman that you are, then it’s not your fault and they don’t deserve you.”

  “Thanks, baby. I know. I mean, intellectually I know that.”

  “And in your heart?”

  “In my heart, I just want my dad to say he’s proud of me, that he believes in me. But I may have to face the fact that it’s not going to happen.” Faythe looked composed, but her voice was hollow in a way that infuriated Deanna. She had a second chance to patch things up with Angela, and now Faythe was the one with a long list of unsolved family issues.