Anne's Collection #1: Five Stories

by Anne Eton

  “Yes. You see, Roger was exactly like my father. And I loved my father, more than anyone on earth, but, my God, he and I had a very dysfunctional relationship. He was just… incredibly hard for anybody to get along with. I told you how he couldn’t keep a secretary for more than a week?”

  Laurence nodded.

  “By the time he died he’d had more wives than I have fingers. To me he was the most loving, caring, loyal person in my life—but the truth is that the he was also an arrogant, controlling, sometimes deceitful person who had a streak of self-destructiveness. He chose wonderful women, just like the way he chose wonderful investments. He had great taste. But there was no way his marriages could have worked. Or mine, with Roger.” The older woman’s face flushed. She struggled to control her emotions.

  The girl studied her curiously. “So, you blame yourself? I don’t understand…”

  “No, not at all. I did, once. But now I see what was going on, and I understand it. I had wanted to marry Roger not DESPITE that he was exactly like my dad. I had wanted to marry him BECAUSE he was exactly like my dad. Not in a sick kind of incest way… The dynamic was that unconsciously, or subconsciously, however the brain works, deep down I wanted to resolve all the problems I had had with my father. And so I chose Roger, so I could live it all over again—and maybe resolve it the second time around. But, A., once I understood what had happened, I knew that that was crazy. And B., there could have been no happy ending with me and Roger—no more than my father could have had a happy ending with any of his wives.”

  Laurence turned her head slowly while still keeping her eyes on Peggy. “What are you saying?” she asked in a be-careful tone.

  “Your father. His coldness and indifference—that was, at bottom, his soul, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he was financially very successful also. Right?”

  Laurence said nothing. Her body sat very tense.

  “Look,” Peggy said in a rush. “Look at the similarities. Philippe’s all these things. And he’s an older man, even. You can’t deny—”

  “How DARE you,” Laurence said venomously. She trembled. “You want me for yourself, and you try to poison—”

  “No!”

  Laurence sprang up. “How can you say this? You know Philippe and my father are the two subjects in the world that most upset me. Especially Philippe, with this, this thing, here, now, between us. This.” She gestured back and forth.

  “Aw, no. Laurence,” Peggy said, her voice breaking. “You mean more to me than you know—I would never try to poison your mind just so I could—”

  Laurence turned and stormed off toward the front door.

  “Laurence!” Peggy sprang after her. “Don’t you remember saying, on the beach, that you knew but you didn’t want to accept—”

  The girl flung open the door and whirled around, her face mottled with rage. “And did YOU not hear ME when I said I love Philippe? I love him. I love him! So what if he is cold, he is the part of me I can never, WILL never let go. You take your expert psychology to work on yourself maybe, before you put it on me.”

  Then she was gone.

  * * *

  Two days later, Peggy walked into the deserted lobby of a small mission-style building in Malibu. Her shoes clicked loudly on the ancient hardwood floor.

  She approached the front desk, glancing at a sign that read “St. Lorenzo Youth Hostel” and, under it, “Reservations Only—No Walk-Ins.”

  “Hello?” Peggy called out. She tapped a desk bell.

  After a moment, a young unshaven man opened the back office door. “Yeah, uh-huh,” he mumbled into his cell phone. He shuffled to the counter.

  “Excuse me—” Peggy began.

  The young man held up a finger. Peggy stopped talking. “Right,” he said into his phone. “Dude, hold up a sec. Wait.” The clerk looked at Peggy. “Reservation?”

  “No, I’m looking for someone,” Peggy said. “She’s staying here. A French girl. Laurence Duclos. It’s very important.”

  The man pushed his phone into his chest. “I can’t let you in. Rules.”

  “Can you please go and see if she’s here?”

  “I can’t leave the desk unattended.”

  “Is there someone else who can help?”

  “Sorry. No.”

  Peggy exhaled. “Can you tell me if she’s even still here?”

  “Sorry, again. By law I can’t give out that information.”

  “She… used to work for me. Do you have an email address for her? I’ve tried the temp agency she worked with, but they don’t have a record of it. I can’t believe I never asked her for her email—”

  “I don’t know. But, again, I can’t give out information.”

  Peggy withdrew a small envelope. “I’ve tried calling, but you don’t give phone messages, right?”

  “Right. And the guest phone doesn’t accept incoming calls.” He nodded to a behemoth lobby telephone with a credit card processing terminal.

  “Can I leave this note? I’ve printed her name on the front.”

  “Sure.” The man accepted Peggy’s envelope.

  A long pause followed.

  “Anything else?” he said finally.

  “No. Thank you very much.”

  He nodded. Peggy turned away. She heard the man say “Yeah, dude. So anyway, I was thinking…” Looking back over her shoulder, she saw him shuffle back into the office and close the door. Her letter was nowhere to be seen.

  * * *

  Peggy was placing folded clothes into her suitcase when her phone rang. She looked at its screen and answered. “Hello?”

  “Hello.”

  “Hi.”

  Long pause.

  “You are leaving for the airport soon?” Laurence asked.

  “Yeah. I’m actually packing now. Left it till the last minute. Procrastinator Peggy, that’s me.” The brunette tried to laugh, sounding even more awkward.

  “I am sorry I left in the manner I did,” Laurence said. She sounded like someone who had rehearsed her lines.

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry too… I guess I’m just sorry for everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Well, yeah. Like I said in my letter.”

  “What letter?”

  Peggy made a sound of frustration. “I knew that guy would screw it up. The front desk guy, at your hostel. I gave him a letter for you.”

  “When?”

  “Three days ago, I think.”

  “No, I never received it.”

  “Then… why are you calling?”

  Silence.

  “No, don’t get me wrong,” Peggy added hurriedly. “I’m glad you called. Super glad. I just, I’m surprised, that’s all. Very happily surprised.”

  “What did you say in this letter?”

  “A lot of things. Hey. How are you? Where are you?”

  “I am at the hostel.” The girl’s voice sounded as flat and detached as the first day they had met. “I am fine.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  “I’m sorry I left,” Laurence repeated. “It was unprofessional.”

  “What?”

  “You have a very important conference with your brothers and sisters. Regarding the estate. Our agreement was not only that I would help you organize the documents, I would remain behind and help you over the phone when you were there.”

  Peggy nodded. She began walking around her room.

  “If you still want my help, I am happy to help,” the girl said in a neutral tone.

  “You mean… you’ll come back?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know the plan was that you would live here while I was away. I don’t know when I’m going to need to talk to you—could be day or night.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “So you’ll stay here? At least until I get back?”

  “Yes.”

  Peggy jumped up and down in her bare feet but tried to keep her voice casual. “Okay. Great.
Uh, I would come pick you up, but I don’t have time—”

  “I can arrive in less than an hour. I will bring my things. Will you still be there?”

  “Yeah!” Peggy squeezed her eyes shut and silently stomped her foot. “I mean, yes. I’ll be here.”

  When Peggy answered the door, she did a double take. “Wow. You’ve had some sun.”

  Laurence entered, pulling her wheeled suitcase. Her skin had turned brown. “Yes. I have been at the beach a lot.”

  “You should be careful, you’ll get skin cancer. Forget I said that. Hi! It’s so good to see you.” Peggy made as if to hug her, then changed her mind.

  “Hello.” Laurence’s face was expressionless. She shut the door behind her.

  “Okay, so, I told YuLing to make whatever you want to eat of course, and you can go ahead and open my mail while I’m gone. I’ll be away for four days.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Any questions?”

  “Your phone number in Canada, what will it be?”

  “Don’t have one yet. I’ll buy a Canadian cell phone as soon as I land. I’ll call the house phone here as soon as I’ve got it.”

  “Have you changed any of the files or other information since I left?”

  “Nope. I haven’t done one thing with them, actually.”

  “All right. I have no other questions.”

  “Thank you so much, Laurence. I… I’m really glad you’re here.”

  The girl said nothing.

  “And,” Peggy continued. She took a deep breath. “I will never, ever say anything about your father or… your fiancé again.”

  Laurence looked at the floor.

  “So! I’m going.” Peggy smiled and walked to the garage door. She looked back.

  Laurence lifted her hand in farewell.

  Over the next few days, Peggy made many calls to Malibu.

  “What businesses are there in Saskatchewan?” she asked one evening.

  Laurence rose from her office chair and walked to the wall, peering at the push-pin map. “Only two. Greydon Mining and Pulp Paper Limited.”

  “Great. Are they public?”

  “Of course.”

  “What’s the market cap on those?”

  After Laurence had provided all the relevant information, Peggy laughed. “My half-sister Lisa seems to think she only wants to own stuff close to home.”

  “She lives in Saskatchewan?”

  “Yep.”

  “This is… a remote area, yes?” Laurence glanced at the map.

  “So I’ve heard. You should see her, and her husband. They live in a geodesic dome. For real.”

  “Aaaaah. So maybe they will be willing to trade a few things?”

  “You got it.”

  “And you will visit them in Saskatchewan of course.”

  “Hell no!”

  On her last night in Canada, Peggy sighed happily over the phone. “Want to hear a story?”

  “Yes!” Laurence had over the days grown more animated with Peggy. They had returned to their former intimacy, laughing and teasing each other.

  “My youngest sibling. His name is Barry. So automatically, you don’t like him, right?”

  “Should I not?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I despise him.”

  “Excellent. So. The last birthday party my father had, he was in a wheelchair. Couldn’t breathe very well. Just a mess, you know?”

  “Okay…”

  “My half-brother Barry—I don’t know why I keep saying half- this or that, they’re all my freaking half-sisters and half-brothers. But you knew that already, right?”

  “This story is becoming boring.”

  “Well, listen to this. It’s my father’s birthday party. Barry shows up. And he’s drunk. And all night long, over the merriment and whatever, he keeps badgering my father about his will in front of everybody. At one point, he actually said he needed more money than the rest of us, because he had ‘greater ambitions!’ And all the guy does is drink and smoke dope. And contract venereal diseases.”

  Laurence made a face. ”Degolas.”

  “Yeah. My father really loathed him. He didn’t even think Barry was legitimately his—dad talked to me at one point about maybe making him take a blood test. He suspected Barry’s mother cheated on him. The guy looks nothing like my dad—Barry wears a size fifteen shoe and my dad was a little old Jewish accountant, okay?”

  Laurence laughed. “So.”

  “So. Today, I took Barry to the cleaners. Traded a bunch of stuff with him. I made sure my lawyer was standing by and we got everything signed off on.”

  “You got his Alberta Oil Sands!”

  “Honey, please. I got that, and more. Oh, he still has millions, but knowing him he’ll burn through it all soon. So it would have been wasted anyway, right?”

  “Indeed yes.”

  “I know it sounds terrible, but I’m so happy.” Peggy sighed, a sound of pure contentment. “My father would have been proud of me. I know exactly what he would’ve said: ‘Honey, you’re a chip off the old block.’ That was his highest praise.”

  Laurence smiled. “I think it is wonderful. Good for you. I am happy for you and your father, wherever he is now.”

  “Thank you.” Peggy’s voice caught.

  After a pause, Laurence asked: “So you are returning here tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. And, hey.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t leave before I get there, okay?”

  “I will not leave.”

  “There’s some things I want to talk about… and I wanted to ask—”

  “Yes, I will share your bed,” Laurence said simply.

  “Oh.”

  “No?”

  “No. I mean, yes! That’s… great. Better than I hoped. Way better. It wasn’t what I was going to ask, that’s all.”

  “What then was your question?”

  A long pause. “I don’t remember.”

  “Ah.”

  “Anyway.”

  “Anyway.”

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow,” Peggy said softly.

  Laurence smiled. “I too look forward.”

  “Okay, then. I guess that’s all.”

  ”A demain.”

  ”Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  The next evening, at bedtime, Peggy and Laurence undressed. They chatted casually, trying to ignore the moment’s tension.

  “So your trip was the roaring success?”

  “‘A roaring success.’ Yes. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Peggy reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. Her big breasts wobbled as the brassiere fell.

  Laurence paused as she slipped off her jeans, staring. Peggy noticed.

  The women considered at each other. Laurence stood in her underwear, Peggy in only her panties.

  After a long moment, Peggy said: “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Yes?”

  “I… I missed you. No wait, let me finish. I wanted that closeness with you—sleeping together. That’s all I thought about when I was in the bed in the hotel in Ottawa.”

  Laurence waited.

  “But I don’t think it’s right that we keep having sex,” the older woman continued.

  The blonde looked at the floor. She nodded.

  “I mean,” Peggy said, “regardless of whatever… he is doing, two wrongs don’t make a right. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “I want the closeness with you. But the sex…”

  “I agree. It has bothered me also. I try to be…” Laurence made a blasé motion, fluttering her wrist. “But always I feel the guilt. So I’m glad you say, we stop.”

  “Good.” Peggy exhaled. “So. No nude sleeping.”

  “I have sweatpants, and a T-shirt.”

  “I have pajamas.”

  They smiled at each other, showing mutual relief. After they brushed their teeth, Peggy turned off the light. She slipped under the co
vers. The women cuddled.

  “Good night,” Laurence whispered.

  “Good night,” Peggy said. She kissed the girl on her forehead.

  * * *

  “MotherFUCKerrrrrr… MotherFUCKerrrrrr…” Peggy moaned in the dark room.

  The older woman was straddling the girl’s face, clinging to the headboard for balance. Laurence, her eyes closed, ate Peggy with slow sexy movements of her mouth that reflected her deep hunger for her lover. It had been less than ten minutes since lights-out and their agreement about not having sex. Later they would argue about who had touched who first, who had been inappropriate first, who had seduced whom. But right now they were completely focused on each other.

  “Oh God, honey,” Peggy said in a high-pitched voice. Her eyelids snapped shut and her head jerked back. She bucked hard but Laurence held on.

  “Honnneeeeeeee…” Peggy emitted a sudden gasp, then a scream. Finally, she managed to extricate herself from the blonde girl, collapsing onto the mattress.

  When she finally had stopped shivering, she opened her eyes. Laurence was sucking her big breasts, insatiably.

  “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this,” Peggy whispered.

  The girl did not reply. She began rubbing her fingers between Peggy’s legs as she sucked her nipples into pebbles. The older woman made a despairing sound. She managed to pull her lover up. They made out hungrily, feeling each other’s heat.

  * * *

  At the sunny dining table, the two women ate breakfast in silence. They did not look at each other.

  “I am going to the supermarket, madam,” YuLing said, beaming. If YuLing felt any surprise concerning Laurence’s new status of sharing the home, and evidently the bed, of her employer, the housekeeper kept it to herself.

  “All right,” Peggy called after her. The garage door opened and closed.

  After a long pause, Peggy looked out the window. “Well, the forecast said it might rain.”

  “Yes,” Laurence said. She glanced out another window evasively. “It looks like the rain may come.”

  “Clouds are dark.”

  “Yes.”

  Another excruciating pause.

  “So,” Laurence finally said. “Are there more things to do with the estate?”

  “Oh. Yes!” Peggy rose to her feet, grateful for the distraction. “A bunch of things. We have to sort out all the contract paperwork from the meetings. Ownership papers… Lots of stuff.”