Back to Blue

by Dillon Watson

  Renny threw back her head, laughing. “I have got to meet your mother. She sounds wonderful.”

  “Except for the shopping thing, she is.”

  “Then treasure her. She could be like mine. Eve doesn’t drag me shopping, she drags me down.” She frowned. “Scratch that. I shouldn’t have said anything. She called as I was getting ready to leave. Supposedly to tell me about a new part that’s perfect for me, that will get my name back in the headlines, but really she just wanted dirt on my father and his wife.”

  “I’m confused. Your name’s already in the headlines. Does she not realize how popular your novels are?”

  “But it’s not for a starring role,” Renny said, biting down on bitterness. “For Eve it’s all about Hollywood. Television was okay, but according to her, to really be successful you must be in the movies. Like her. My little hobby is fine and well, but ‘darling you really should come back to civilization and be seen.’ And although she’s quit adding the bit about ‘now that you’ve dealt with the weight and acne problem,’ it’s there like the elephant in the room.”

  “I’m sorry she can’t appreciate your genius. I know if you were my daughter, not that I want you to be, but if, I’d be talking you up all over the place. You’re great.”

  “You’re hired as my press agent. With you behind me this new book will be on the bestsellers list in no time.”

  “I’d need to read it before it came out. For the right spin, of course.”

  “Good one, but you’ll have to wait like the rest of the eager masses. All two of you.”

  “There’s bound to be five at least. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Renny couldn’t stop a smile. “Okay, five. Eve will buy one even if she won’t read it.”

  “Could…do you think she’s jealous of your success? Maybe she doesn’t want you to be more famous than her.”

  “I put nothing past Eve. Being maternal was never her strong suit. I’m sure she had me so she could look beautiful with a baby in her arms, play the role of the loving mother in public. I stopped trying to figure her out the second time I was in rehab. My counselor said it was in my best interest. And in the time between her calls I do a good job of remembering all I’ve accomplished despite her. Eve is Eve. She’s never going to change. And enough about my mother. You didn’t ask me out to hear about her.”

  “That’s right. I asked you out to make points.” She came to a stop halfway down the block. The Bistro had opened three years ago and, due to excellent food and service, had expanded to take over empty neighboring space. The owner had grown up in Seneca and after spending most of her life working in restaurants on the northeast coast had come back to her roots to open her own restaurant.

  On the inside, the impression was of understated elegance. Sounds were muted and the staff moved with hurried purpose. Due to the early hour, the place was only half full.

  “Very nice,” Renny murmured, removing her coat. She enjoyed the way Summer’s eyes widened, then narrowed in focus.

  “Wow. You look…Wow.”

  “You like?” She preened.

  Summer nodded.

  The maître d’ cleared his throat. “May I help you?”

  “Uh, Baxby. Reservation for Baxby.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ll be happy to take care of your coat, ma’am.” He motioned for a young woman, then carefully draped the coat over her arm. “If you’ll follow me.”

  They were shown to a table for two that looked out over the street. Their austere-looking waiter seemed to materialize from nowhere. He spouted off the specials and took their drink orders.

  “Classy joint,” Renny said, after he was gone. “I bet they don’t get a lot of patrons ordering soft drinks with their meals. He probably thinks we’re cheapskates. Which to me is a step down from being considered a recovering alcoholic.”

  “Does it bother you that people know that about you? About the drugs and alcohol?”

  “Don’t forget the wild parties and promiscuous behavior. It gives me character and character helps sell books,” she said loftily. “Seriously, I freely admit to the mistakes I made in the past. But that was then. Now I want people to see me and know I’m not that party animal who didn’t give a damn about anybody or anything anymore. That I’ve grown up. Some will and some won’t. I can’t control those who don’t, so I stopped worrying about them. Makes me a happier person.” She opened the menu. “Speaking of happy. This place might be more dangerous than the bakery.”

  “That depends on your viewpoint,” Summer said, studying the menu intently. “I, uh, personally haven’t noticed any damage to your, uh, posterior.”

  “You looked, huh?”

  “Pleading the Fifth again. Here come our unsophisticated drinks.”

  Simon served them their drinks with the same aplomb with which he would have served champagne. “Are you ready to order?”

  “We need a few more minutes,” Renny said, sending him on his way. “Now what were we talking about?” She tapped a finger against her chin and pretended to think. “Oh, yeah. Point of view. Your point of view.”

  “Funny, I thought we were discussing the menu. The filet mignon stuffed with lobster sauce sounds good.”

  Renny ran a finger over the back of Summer’s hand. “That’s okay. Your eyes gave you away. And Summer, I’m thrilled you like your point of view. I know I’m finding mine well worth the ticket.” She returned her attention to the menu. “Decisions, decisions.”

  * * *

  “Told you he assumed we were cheapskates,” Renny said as she slipped on her coat. “The expression on his face when he saw the generous size of your tip was priceless. It wasn’t there for long, but I did see it.”

  Summer shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “He deserved every penny. And now he thinks we’re recovering alcoholics. That should make you happy.”

  Renny grinned. “It does. More points for you. Do you mind if we walk around, take in the sights? I need to work off some of that beef stew.”

  Summer gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “Do you want us to get banned?” she whispered. “‘Beef stew’? Maybe we should run before the chef hunts us down for that insult.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t excellently prepared. The beef practically melted in my mouth and the sauce was perfect. But despite the fancy name…” She shrugged. “Beef stew.”

  “Heathen. McDonalds for you next time.”

  “I had an addiction to Big Macs when I was eleven, almost twelve. Had to sneak them because they weren’t on Eve’s approved list. I was already starting to fill out.”

  “Sorry.” Summer dipped her head. “I should keep my mouth shut around you. I can’t seem to say anything that doesn’t bring back bad memories.”

  “What are you talking about? I have fond memories of sneaking Big Macs past Eve’s eagle eyes, using mouthwash to hide the smell on my breath. I tried one when I was older. Didn’t have the same appeal. By then I’d stopped blaming Eve for everything that went wrong in my life and accepted that the forbidden was a temptation I had to be leery of. And that’s the last time I talk about my mother tonight. Let’s talk about something else before I lose any more date points.”

  As Summer was learning about Renny as well as her mother she didn’t mind. “No points lost with me. But okay. I’m sort of backing out of my promise. You already know I went to the park yesterday. What you don’t know is why. Because of the stuff we’re not talking about I needed to see girls who were alive and well. Who hadn’t had their childhood snatched away too soon. Then I held Chelsea, felt all the love Keile and Haydn have poured into her, all the love she’s holding inside and suddenly I was remembering an incident with my sisters. I didn’t snitch on them and in return they bought me ice cream. That’s sisterly love for you.” Summer smiled, remembering how good the ice cream tasted. “You should have seen me yesterday. I was so giddy with happiness. Can’t wait for more presents like that. Because that’s what it was—a gift.”


  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “It was. I had another one a couple of days ago. My seventh birthday. I got this huge easel. One I could stand at and paint on like a real artist. But the best part was remembering how happy my family was for me. How much they loved me. Of course the seven-year-old me was just ecstatic about the easel.”

  “Did you start painting right away?”

  “The memory didn’t extend that far, but I imagine I probably ripped through the other presents and waited till later to start my masterpiece.”

  “I’d bet your mother has it stashed safely in the attic.”

  She heard the wistfulness in Renny’s voice. “Hey, what’s the very first thing you ever wrote?”

  “This horrible plot for a television show. Starring yours truly. I was about thirteen and desperately seeking work. So I thought, hey, I can write something for myself. Can’t be that hard. Wrong.”

  “Horrible?”

  “Stank worse than ten skunks and filled with all the melodrama of a teenage girl. Luckily I got a few bit parts and put it away. I take it out now and then when I need a good laugh.”

  “You still have it? Can I read it?”

  “That would be a big no,” Renny said firmly. “Some things aren’t meant to be shared.”

  “Not even if I ask my mom to dig out my old masterpiece?”

  “Tempting, but not really. I’ve never willingly let anyone read it. Never will.”

  “Okay. Fine.” Summer gave a playful pout. “Wait. Did you say willingly? That means someone else read it. Is that why you don’t share?”

  “Slip of the tongue,” Renny muttered. “Forget it.”

  “I’m sorry. They had no right.”

  “It was years ago. No big deal. I’m over it.”

  No, you’re not, Summer thought, angry for a teenage girl who’d probably thought her life was over. “I’m still willing to show you my early etchings.”

  “It was Eve. She read it and laughed. Said it was absurd.”

  “Then I feel sad for her. Sorry she couldn’t see what that script meant to you. Sorry she can’t see you today.”

  “That confirms something for me. You have a good heart, Summer Baxby. Maybe that’s why those girls reached out to you. They knew your heart was big enough to feel for them. To see them.”

  She was surprised by the rush of pride she felt. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me.” She stopped and reached for Renny’s arm, oblivious to the disruption that caused in the flow of foot traffic. “Renny, that helps me flip this whole thing. I’ve been so afraid that I was connected to him. That he was getting inside of my head. But it’s not him. It’s his victims. No.” Summer pulled at her hair as her theory fizzled like a balloon stuck by a pin. “That doesn’t make sense. When he grabbed Georgia I saw it through his eyes. I was connected with him, not her.”

  “Let’s step to the side.” Renny moved them out of the way of the swell of pedestrians. “It doesn’t matter who you connected with. Didn’t we just talk about your good heart?” She grabbed Summer’s arms and gave her a little shake. “Come on, there is no way he can get inside your head and take you over. It wouldn’t happen, Summer. Your heart wouldn’t let him.”

  “I want to be as sure of that as you are.” She rested her head on Renny’s shoulder, drinking in the scent that was a mixture of Renny and perfume.

  “Summer? What’s going on?”

  Not him, not now. She sighed and lifted her head up and forced a smile. “Rich. Hey. Uh, how are you?” As he was dressed for an evening out, she figured he was on the prowl. No doubt looking to practice what he considered his wiles on some unsuspecting woman.

  “I’m good. Sorry about the thing in the elevator. Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  “That’s okay.” When he looked from her to Renny, then back to her, Summer could tell he was remembering their conversation in the bookstore. She could see him adding the sums, followed by the widening of his eyes when he came up with four. “This is my friend Renny. Renny, this is Rich.” She nodded a “yes, Rich from the elevator” in response to Renny’s inquiring look.

  He smiled, flashing white teeth, and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Summer wanted to scream, wanted to tell Renny not to touch him. Not to get sucked into the horrors not buried deeply enough behind the good looks. She held her breath, then exhaled when she remembered he didn’t have that effect on anyone but her.

  “Well, I’ll let you two get back to doing whatever it is you two do.” Rich’s eyes were bright with innuendo as he gave them a nod and turned to leave.

  “Wait.” Summer dared to touch his shoulder. “It’s…Do you know a Georgia Zackery?”

  “You mean that girl that’s missing?”

  “Yeah, her. I mean did you know her before she was missing?”

  “Why would I?” He pulled at the lapels of his sports coat, gave his practiced smile. “I have my pick of the ladies. No need to deal with the kindergarten set.”

  “That’s what I thought. Uh, listen, the police might uh, come talk to you. I told them you didn’t know anything,” she added quickly as he lost his smile. “It’s complicated. But it’s not like you’re in trouble or anything.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” He took a step toward her, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You told the police I had something to do with that girl going missing?”

  Summer took a step back but feared even that distance wouldn’t be enough to block him out. Wouldn’t be enough to block his thoughts, his fears from invading her brain. “No. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. It’s just…on the elevator I had a thing and you were there.” She covered her face with her hands and didn’t stop reciting the multiplication table until Renny’s arm encircled her. “He’s not in any trouble,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to get him in trouble.”

  “I think you want to back off,” Renny said firmly. “It’s obvious the police are grasping at straws to find the girl. And if they haven’t contacted you already, it means they’ve already eliminated you as a person who can help them.”

  “I don’t see why my name should have come up at all.” He puffed himself up, clearly not wanting Renny to think she could intimidate him. “What if it was your name? Wouldn’t you be pissed if the police were looking at you for something like this because of her?”

  “I’m smart enough to hear and understand what’s being said,” Renny replied with a sneer. “Not once did Summer say the police were looking at you as a suspect. In fact, she clearly stated you weren’t in trouble.”

  “Like I can take her word,” he all but spat out, pointing a finger at Summer. “I don’t even know her. And she sure as hell doesn’t know me. I’m sick of women getting me in trouble. Getting me fired and in trouble with the police—”

  Summer was back in the closet, hidden real good this time. This time his mother had made sure the raving monster wouldn’t find him. If Rich opened his eyes he could see the monster through the small hole in the comforter that covered him. He could see the red eyes shining out of a face twisted and ugly and evil. He kept his eyes closed and shivered, hoping the monster would stop the yelling and go away. Go away before using his big hands on Rich’s mother. Go away and never come back.

  He jerked when he heard a thump, heard his mother cry out for the monster to stop, to leave them alone. “Please, make him disappear,” he prayed quietly, rocking back and forth, sucking his thumb even though the monster would hit him if he saw. “I’ll be real good this time. I promise I won’t pee on myself. I promise.”

  But the only response was the sound of grunts, fist hitting skin and his mother’s cries of pain. Rich knew those sounds. Had heard them too many times in his young life to not be afraid. He put his hands over his ears and hummed, but the sounds wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t stop.

  In desperation, he threw off the comforter and looked for something that would stop the monster. Would make him go away for good. In the book, the
boy had found a magic sword, but Rich knew there was no such thing in real life. In real life monsters were your father and there was no magic to protect you from that.

  “Boy! Get out here and take your punishment like a man.”

  For a second Rich was too scared to move. He could hear the monster, but he couldn’t hear his mother. Couldn’t hear the soft cries that usually came after a beating. Something was wrong. Really wrong. When the monster called him again, he scrambled back to the hiding place his mother had made, pulled the comforter over his head and with his heart beating in his throat, he could only mumble the Lord’s Prayer like his mother had taught him. He did not, however, pee on himself as he listened to the monster rage…

  “Summer? Summer?”

  When she came back her head was throbbing so hard she felt nauseous. She tried holding her breath, but that only made the throbbing worse. “Give me a minute.” Pushing away from Renny, she headed to the side of the nearest building and lost the contents of her stomach. With the worst of the spasms gone, she leaned against the building and cried.

  “Is she drunk?” Rich demanded to know. “Shit. You mean I’m in trouble on the word of a drunk?”

  “She’s more sober than you are. I think it would be better if you left,” Renny said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I get a damn good explanation.” Rich jutted his chin, glaring at Renny. “Last I heard being on an elevator with someone was not grounds for having the cops consider you a person of interest. Look at her. If the police saw her now they wouldn’t buy a damn thing she had to say.” He whipped out his cell phone and took a few shots of Summer’s misery.

  “Hey!” Renny held her hand in front of the phone. “How big an asshole are you? Show a little compassion. She’s had a tough week.”

  “Tough week?” he scoffed and flung out his arms, barely missing hitting Renny. “I got your tough week. Did she lose her job because some asshole was jealous of her? Did she get a ten thousand dollar past-due tax bill for property she didn’t know she owned? Well? What? Let me guess. They were out of her favorite cocktail? No drug candy to put up her nose? Boo-fucking-h—”