True Bliss

by Cameron, Stella

  "What?" People bumped them in passing. "What only took a few seconds?"

  "Pulling me backward into those windsocks. Covering my mouth, and telling me you were bad for my health."

  "I don't believe this."

  "Believe it," Bliss said, and drew several long strands of white silk and silver thread from her neck.

  Officer Ballard tucked his pen back into his pocket. "Very interesting."

  Very interesting and I think you 're a nut case, Bliss thought. Sebastian had insisted upon calling the police and having them send someone out to talk to them at the Point. Evidently Ballard had inherited the dubious honor of dealing with what he probably considered nuisance calls relating to Bliss. At least the man had told them the police thought some curious spectator had probably found Nose's camera, then become scared and disposed of it in the back of Sebastian's truck.

  "I'll go back to the station and file a report," Ballard said politely.

  "I want Bliss watched," Sebastian said, while she raised her eyes to the ceiling. She could almost hear Polly and Fab breathing on the other side of the kitchen door while they listened. "She's been threatened and she's been hurt. There aren't going to be any more risks taken. If she's not with me, she's to be watched by you people."

  "We can have a car drive by now and again," Ballard said.

  "I didn't say—"

  "Sebastian! Please. You can't expect the police to spare men to watch me all the time."

  "Then I'll hire someone."

  "Better make sure he keeps away from that bluff," Ballard said mildly.

  "I don't find you funny." Sebastian didn't sound as if he found anything funny. "From now on, until we get to the bottom of this, you'll be with me, Bliss. Understand?"

  "How exactly are you hurt, miss?" Ballard asked.

  She touched her neck. This time the threads from her scarf had been applied over the collar of her shirt. "He yanked on my neck. There aren't any marks."

  "Right. Like you already said."

  "This afternoon she almost drowned in my pool."

  "Really?" Ballard's impassive expression changed a little. "You didn't mention that."

  "It was an accident," Bliss said. "I caught my hair in a drain."

  "I see."

  "No you don't," Sebastian said. "She should have been able to pull free."

  "But she couldn't?"

  "If I'd been a few seconds longer going after her we might not be having this conversation."

  "Ah. So you think someone tried to drown Ms. Winters?"

  "They absolutely did not," Bliss said. "It was just one of those freaky things. You're too jumpy, Sebastian."

  "That's not what you said at Bellevue Square."

  "It's what I'm saying now. Someone put that silk around my neck, Officer. Like I told you, it's the second time it's happened and I don't know why. I'm not frightened by it because I think that's what this person wants. I just think it's a good idea for the police to be aware of these events."

  "Right." Ballard brightened considerably. "Absolutely right. And we'll be keeping an ear open in case you need us. You just let us know, Ms. Winters."

  "I will," she told him. "I certainly will."

  "/ certainly will, " Sebastian said venomously when Ballard had left. "The truth is that unless you're dead, they aren't going to do anything."

  "Don't say that! You frighten me."

  "Oh, love." He enfolded her in a big hug. "I'm sorry. This has been a helluva day, is all."

  "I hate it when you—"

  "Swear?" He chuckled into her hair. "Yes, I know. It's still been a helluva day."

  "Woman from the Arts Commission on the phone for you, Bliss," Liberty said from the kitchen doorway. "Says it's something about grants."

  "Ooh!" Bliss leaped away from Sebastian. "Sit right there on the couch. Grants are a language I speak fluently."

  She left him and ran to pick up the kitchen phone. "Hi! Bliss Winters here."

  "It's been a long time," a woman's voice said. "I owe you some explanations."

  Bliss looked up, and through the window. "Who is this?"

  "Can we meet? Just the two of us?"

  The voice wasn't familiar.

  "If I thought anyone else would know, I couldn't come. It'd be too dangerous."

  "All right," Bliss said slowly. "We can probably meet."

  "I'm doing it for Sebastian. I owe him that much. You won't tell him, will you? If you tell him I won't feel I'm finally free of the guilt."

  Bliss bowed her head. "I won't tell him," she said, knowing now who she was speaking to.

  "This is Crystal."

  Twenty-five

  "Little Point," Polly said.

  "Appropriate," Fab responded, her face folded in concentration. "But it doesn't make the point, does it?"

  Bliss and Vic chuckled.

  Polly wrinkled her nose and said, "She doesn't even know she made a funny."

  "Mm," Fab said, but she grinned. "Pretty little funny, if you ask me. But we can't call the place Hole Point if Sebastian's getting the hole filled."

  Bliss's full attention wasn't on the discussion. She'd successfully persuaded Sebastian to go to his office to take care of some European business, but timing would still be close if she was going to keep her appointment with Crystal and get back before he did.

  "No Point," Vic said triumphantly. "Hole Point today. No Point tomorrow, when Sebastian's filled the hole with concrete."

  "He isn't doing it himself," Liberty reminded him.

  "Shit!" Vic said. He scowled at her. "Do you have to pick on every word I say?"

  The twins burst into a flurry of motion, clattering clean dishes into cupboards.

  Liberty's cheeks had turned bright red.

  "Vic"—Bliss stared at his angry face—"Liberty didn't mean anything. You're so touchy. And you don't appreciate her." Her

  palms sweated. This confrontation was overdue, but that didn't make it easier.

  He looked away. "I appreciate Liberty. She's the best. We're all a bit shaken up by so many changes, so fast."

  "That's right," Liberty agreed. "Come on, Vic. I've got to work for a while."

  "Yeah. Me, too."

  The instant the twins were left alone with Bliss, they talked excitedly about the interviews they were to have at Raptor. Bliss half-listened, showed enthusiasm in most of the right places, and worked out how she'd get to her meeting with Crystal.

  "Can I come in?"

  The sound of her mother's voice startled Bliss. She swung around to see Kitten already walking into the kitchen.

  "I know I should have called, but I don't see enough of you, darling." She didn't meet Bliss's eyes. "So I decided to take a chance on finding you at home." Her voice broke and she rushed to fall into a chair at the kitchen table and bury her face.

  Bliss was aware of the twins slipping quickly from the lodge and closing the door softly behind them.

  "Has something happened, Mom?" Bliss asked awkwardly.

  Kitten's hair was as perfect as ever, her powder blue outfit as impeccable as ever, but her shoulders heaved, and her sobs tripped Bliss's heart into a runaway rhythm.

  "Mom?"

  "I've been a bad mother to you."

  Bliss rubbed Kitten's shoulders and pulled a chair close beside hers. "I'm okay," she said. "I'm happy. Really happy."

  Kitten raised her face and Bliss noticed what she hadn't noticed before; streaked mascara and the signs that her mother had been crying for a long time.

  "Oh, Mom, what is it? Is it something with you and Daddy?"

  "No! No, it's never been that. Morris and I have a wonderful marriage. We always have. But I shouldn't have ignored you the way I have." She rumbled in her bag for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

  "I didn't know you still smoked," Bliss said, grateful for any diversion.

  "Never quit," Kitten said, lighting up. "I just made sure you didn't know—or anyone else but Morris. I'm not young anymore, Bliss."

&n
bsp; At a loss for words, Bliss resumed awkwardly patting her mother's back.

  "I don't have the right to ask, but I need you. I need to feel close . . . No. I do feel close to you. It's just that I've never been good at affection."

  Why tonight, of all nights? Bliss thought, and instantly disliked herself for being self-absorbed. She sighed. "I'm okay, Mom. You took care of all the important stuff."

  "No, I didn't. I took care of your needs."

  And put her own needs first. Her own and those of Morris Winters.

  "Morris is very demanding, Bliss."

  The statement shocked Bliss. "I know that, Mother."

  "He's always known exactly what he wants, and what he needed from me as his wife. And from you."

  "Yes."

  "I'm not criticizing him."

  "No."

  "But I am criticizing myself. I should have made up for what he didn't have time to give you."

  Once again words failed Bliss.

  "Will you let me try to do that now?" Kitten stubbed her barely smoked cigarette out among thumbtacks in a shallow bowl. "Will you? Could we try to start being mother and daughter like other people are? Bliss—"

  "Hush." For the first time, Bliss saw Kitten Winters's vulnerability, her insecurity. "I don't know what to say, except I'd like it if I thought you felt something for me."

  "I do! I love you! And I hate myself for never knowing how to show you."

  "Mother—"

  Kitten got up abruptly. She found a tissue in her purse and wiped her eyes. "Of course you can't forgive me. Just forgive me after a lifetime of never being able to turn to me for anything. Anything but money and lectures on what you should or shouldn't do. Why should you forgive me?"

  "Because it would make me feel very good," Bliss told her. She stood and took her mother into her arms. "Give it time, okay, Mom? Give us some time. You've made me glad tonight. Is that a good enough start?"

  Kitten's renewed sobbing tore at Bliss. "It's okay. It will be okay. I don't think either of us has known too much happiness."

  "I've always been trying to do what I thought I was supposed to do," Kitten said into Bliss's shoulder. "I was relieved when that boy left town. I thought I was supposed to be, because Morris was relieved."

  Bliss stood absolutely still. "You knew about Sebastian from the beginning?"

  Kitten sniffed. She raised her tear-streaked face and blew her nose. "Everyone knew, didn't they? I was on the PTA and Morris was very active with the sports program—the stadium and so forth."

  "But none of those people knew about Sebastian and me. Not until afterward when the stories about Crystal Moore circulated."

  "That's what I mean. We knew afterward." She dabbed her eyes. "Everyone knew afterward."

  "You never said anything to me."

  "I know." Kitten cried again, but quietly this time. "So wrong. I should have comforted you, but Morris was angry about what it would have done to us if you had gone away with the Plato boy."

  "You'd have survived."

  "Oh, darling, things were different then. You couldn't get away with the things public figures get away with now. Morris's opponents would have made a meal out of it. If Morris couldn't take care of his child, how could he be trusted with the good

  of his constituents. That sort of thing. We needed a united front."

  "And you got it," Bliss said without bitterness. She no longer had any reason to feel bitter.

  "At your expense. Whatever happened to that dreadful Crystal girl? I assume he divorced her."

  "You can certainly assume so, Mother. Sebastian and I are going to be married."

  Kitten's mouth fell open in slow motion. "Well . . .Well, obviously I knew you were seeing him. After all, he was here and so on. Morris said he'd spoken of marriage, but we thought that was Plato trying to make your father upset."

  How quickly the mood changed. "I'm going to marry him."

  "I see." Kitten selected a thumbtack from its bed of ashes and rolled it between finger and thumb. "Well, you know what's best for you."

  "Mother?" Bliss ducked her head until Kitten met her eyes. "That's it? You're not going to berate me or say how bad this is going to look for Daddy? Because of his stand on child pornography—which Sebastian would have absolutely no part of, by the way?"

  Kitten straightened her back. "I'm going to make sure your father and I support you in whatever you decide to do. Morris will manage very well. I'm convinced he's going to go all the way to—well, you know. We don't actually say it."

  "I hope Daddy agrees with you."

  "He will." Kitten actually smiled. "You'd be surprised how much influence I have over your father. He hides it very well in public. His strong image, you know. But in private he's a pussycat. With me."

  That wasn't exactly the picture Bliss recalled, but if it made her mother feel good, so be it. "Then I'm happy. I'd like us to be a family." She couldn't say "again," because it would be for the first time. "Actually, I'm happier than I've been since Sebastian and I agreed to marry when I was seventeen. What happened then wasn't his fault. Not really."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He was young. He made a mistake. I think Crystal's going to try to tell me—"

  "Crystal?" Kitten wrapped her fingers around Bliss's wrist. "You've heard from her?"

  Bliss looked away.

  "She contacted you?"

  "Yes. We're all a lot more mature than we were in high school. She wants me to know exactly what happened."

  "Oh, my dear," Kitten said, her eyes filling with tears yet again. "Wouldn't that be painful for you?"

  "Probably. But she told me she owes it to Sebastian." Perhaps this was appropriate, sharing the saddest part of her growing up years with her mother. "She's staying with her father and I'm going to go and talk with her."

  Kitten shook her head. "I hope she really means well. She could intend to try to make him look bad in your eyes again."

  "I've thought of that."

  "Of course you have. You are so brave. I suppose that's one of the few good things that came out of having to rely on yourself so much when you were growing up. It made you strong."

  Bliss turned the corners of her mouth up.

  "But it didn't give you a high opinion of your parents, did it?"

  "Mom—"

  "No. No, you don't have to answer that. I don't have any right to expect you to throw your arms around me and tell me I was wonderful after all. But you are going to give me a chance, aren't you?"

  "Yes," Bliss said. "Yes, I am. I'd like to."

  Kitten took several moments to gain control enough to say, "Thank you. When are you meeting that woman?"

  Bliss looked at the Delft clock. "Quite soon." Her stomach turned over.

  "Shall I come with you, darling? I will if it'll help."

  "No. This is one of those things you do alone. But I should think about getting there."

  Kitten gathered her purse and gloves, and faced Bliss again. "May I call you tomorrow? I'm going to try anyway. And I... I'm going to suggest to Morris that we give a party for you and Sebastian. Good night, Bliss." She rose to her toes to kiss Bliss's cheek. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Bliss didn't attempt to follow her mother, or to say anything else. She allowed herself a faint spark of hope for the future. Morris Winters had crushed his wife into the shape he'd needed her to be—he'd continue to crush anyone who needed to be changed for his purposes. A relationship with her father would never be in the cards, but perhaps Bliss could draw close to Kitten anyway.

  On the way to her room to gather a jacket, Bliss recalled the many times she'd watched her father humiliate her mother, ever so subtly, of course, with his dismissal of her, and his attention to any attractive female in sight.

  Morris Winters had a great deal to answer for. He would hate her marriage to Sebastian and he'd let them both know it, but he couldn't hurt them. And, despite Prue O'Leary's best efforts, Bliss's relationship with Sebastian wouldn't harm
Morris's career. Bliss didn't regret wishing it might.

  Getting a cab to come to a private address in Bellevue would be almost impossible. Wearing a sweat suit and tennis shoes, she put money in her pocket and set off to catch a bus into Bellevue. At night the route was sparsely served and almost an hour passed before she arrived at the Bellevue bus terminal. She cut through narrow side streets to the closest hotel, where she flagged a waiting taxi.

  After his wife's death, Jim Moore had moved from Seattle to a trailer on a lot in the hills east of Bellevue. The silent cab driver followed Bliss's directions with only the snap of his gum in response.

  They took 1-90 and headed away from Bellevue. A few miles west from the town of Issaquah, the taxi left the freeway and veered south. Dense stands of fir all but obliterated the moon-filmed sky over a narrow road that climbed Cougar Mountain.

  Too nervous to sit still, Bliss pushed to the edge of her seat. "D'you know, I've lived in the area most of my life and I've never been up here."

  The driver snapped his gum.

  "There's a sign that says Beware of the Dog. We've got to look for that. It'll be on the left. Black and white sign."

  The gum snapped.

  Another switchback bend in the road, followed by another, and another, brought Bliss's stomach into her throat.

  The driver's sudden, "Shit! Goddamn sonafabitch, fool!" and a sharp veer to the right, all but knocked her from the seat. "D'you see that? See it, huh? Goddamn fool."

  She'd felt more than seen a car overtake. Traveling fast and showing no lights, the suggestion of its pale shape immediately disappeared into the darkness ahead.

  "No lights! Shit! Round the bend and all over me before I knew it. Good job I'm on top of things."

  "Yes," Bliss agreed weakly, wishing the man would go back to snapping his gum. "Very foolish person."

  The man subsided, muttering unintelligibly.

  They took an almost horizontal left. "I think we're getting close," Bliss said. "I'll need you to wait for me."

  That earned her a grunt.

  "There it is!" Bliss pointed to a sign beside the road. "You pull onto the shoulder and wait here. I'll run in and"—she thought rapidly—"I'll get my friend and have you take us both back to Bellevue." She didn't trust the cabby to hang around long.