She pinned him with a look and struck an open C chord, loud.
I want Courtney. I want the three of us to be family, he thought. No. Four. Ah, shit, no. Too complicated. He stuffed his thoughts back down in the vault. He had a well of feelings and maybe writing a song wasn’t such a bad idea. He wrote with his bands. He could write with Ruby.
“Okay. Let’s write a song,” he said.
The sweet relief on her face was reward enough for missing the first hour or so of his host duties. They wrote lyrics, nothing really stuck, but they had fun. They both loved Andrew Bird and he helped her work out “Lusitania.” She could play by ear and sang the female part just right. She could whistle, too.
Hours passed until finally she said, “You know it’s midnight?”
He hadn’t known. Damn. He would be a horrible father. Or no, if he was her father, she was exactly in the right place. But he wasn’t her father. So he sucked. Courtney must be so worried.
“My grandparents think my mom got special permission to bring me to the bar. Like I have to have a stamp or a wristband or something. I love music, duh. I might love it because of you. Let’s go catch the last set. Want to?”
“Let’s go.” Like her mom, Ruby was a force of nature, and Eddie had lived long enough to know you just had to ride their wind.
****
Courtney loathed gossip. It was difficult to form a polite response to the second hundredth question So do you have dinner with the Kardasians? But she gave it a shot. “I don’t live in L.A. anymore, and when I did those girls were in diapers.”
“But didn’t you help decorate that commercial for Paris Hilton?”
“I don’t work in that field anymore. I’m a therapist now.”
“Oh, too bad.”
Once people got the idea that her life was not an endless A-list party, they started sharpening their knives. It was the same girls from school, women now, who just didn’t know how to be nice.
“You waited a long time to go to college.”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I had my fun, lived some dreams, and now I’m helping other people live theirs.”
“Huh. So a shrink. I heard you bought Doc’s old house. Nobody here needs a shrink. Well, Spence had issues, but he’s from downstate. That one is strange too.” Someone pointed out Lily behind her camera.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving California for here. Is it because of Eddie? Are you two getting back together?”
Good question. She shook her head to clear the tumbled thoughts. Her mind felt like scrambled eggs. What had she done today? And where was Edward? The party, actually the pre-party, was at his bar, but he was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t seen him since she’d told him about buying the house. And he’d walked away. She wondered if she could live in a town with him and not be his wife. Would he divorce her now, when she finally admitted she loved him? She couldn’t blame him. He’d never wanted kids. Except for maybe twenty or thirty seconds very early this morning when they’d both been sleep deprived and on high arousal.
“Is you daughter his?”
“She’s fourteen. I left eighteen years ago. You do the math.” Courtney felt immediately sorry she’d snapped, but people could be so rude.
“Yeah, but you came home a lot.”
“I never saw Edward when Ruby and I came home.” That was true. She’d stayed away on purpose.
“So who is her dad?”
“He’s not in the picture.”
“A rock star? From one of your video shoots?”
“She looks a little like Jimi Santori.”
Courtney didn’t respond. She couldn’t stop thinking about Edward, about the fact that they both knew how they felt for that brief time and could hardly admit it to each other, forget about other people in this small town full of big mouths. She sipped her tea, the color of wine, in a wine glass, so nobody would question her not drinking. She hated all the questions, and that was just another one she was not ready to deal with. Soon enough, everyone would know.
Edward. Where was he? She’s always been a self-diagnosed social misfit. She tended to panic in crowds of strange people. But Edward was a man she could talk to. They’d find a quiet corner away from all the small talk and cutting gossip about this one’s weight gain and that one’s wrinkles. She suddenly wanted to flee, but to where? Back to her family? She wanted to see Edward more than she needed to be alone. Would he ever admit he loved her? The playlist said he loved her with every single song. But she could be making that up. They were all from the year they graduated. 1992. But he’d slipped a few in from 1994. Her favorites. The band was good. She let the music take her and let the conversations around her float away. She heard someone say, “Courtney’s drunk,” and she hid a smile. People believed what they wanted to believe.
Then the band played the opening chords from a song from 1999. She’d done the video, one of her last. About the toxic chemicals between two people, she’d designed the entire shoot with Edward in mind, and that had been the song that had wiped the last vestiges of him from her life, wiped him away. Then Ruby came, and she was able to put him out of the picture, most of the time. He didn’t belong there. How did he know? Did he receive her message, all the little things she’d included in the video so private to them, but disguised? Did he sit here in Blue Lake and watch and know?
I mean, really, it was the only song he played that was not something that had been in their collection, had not been from ’92 or those few from ’94. Where was he?
She wandered the barn-like room, smiling, saying hi, staying in slow motion. She wanted her photo albums. She wanted her car. She wanted her clothes. Her office furniture. Her notes. She wanted her clients to all come out and still be her clients, but that would not happen unless she set up an online practice. Like on Skype. People in her profession were doing that more and more now. Well, life coaches, not licensed psychologists. Either way, she had to establish a presence here. She would have new challenges. Substance abuse. Sexual abuse. OCD. ADHD. Not “where’s my bliss?” She knew another therapist, a good friend, who would take some of her clients. She’d have to call each of them and tell a few of them that they were ready for life without a coach. And call her friend to ask if the referrals would be okay.
“Where’s Eddie tonight? He never leaves this bar.” A guy whose name she could not remember grabbed her arm, stopped her slow progress through the room.
“I have no idea.”
“Lookin’ good, Courtney.”
Now she remembered his name. Joey. He used to taunt her because she didn’t wear a bra. He used to make fun of her black nail polish and little dresses. He’d grown a beer belly. So many of them had. Yes, substance abuse. That would be her clientele, and they’d be hostile, coming on order from work or jail. Like this guy. It was enough to shake her to her bones. That was the social phobia. She’d be okay if she just took some deep breaths.
“You, too,” she smiled and used all her strength to wrest his hand from her arm. Just then a girl from their class came up, glaring at Courtney. “Joey. Honey. This is our song.” She shot Courtney one last look as she led a sheepish Joey away. “We’ve been married fifteen years. Hands off, bitch.”
Well, okay then. Courtney pretended the over-processed blonde with bad teeth was a hostile client, even though she’d had very few of those. Her people came to her for answers to life’s big questions. They wanted to know how to make things better. They had moved on from the flatline of high school. Some people never did.
Another guy. Captain of the football team. Still in reasonably good shape. A kind smile. He’d always been a nice guy. “Where’s Eddie?” At least he tapped her shoulder instead of grabbing her arm. He leaned in to her a bit, because the music was loud.
She wanted to scream. Who was she? Edward’s bodyguard? She shrugged and smiled. Lifted her empty glass of tea and went to the bar to refill.
She had brought a special bottle and stuck it in the cooler. People wo
uld talk about that, how she made herself so at home here. But it was for a reason. Mr. Football followed her. “You are lookin’ good, but then I always had a crush on you. Even with your wild style.”
Courtney didn’t believe him for a minute, but was glad she’d poured the tea into a wine bottle. Something to do with her hands to keep them steady. She took off the stopper and filled her glass. “Gee, thanks.” They smiled at each other. Checked for rings. He didn’t have one. Neither did she. “Divorced. Jeannie Halsworth. Two years. We got two kids, boy and girl. You’d of thunk that would make it stick but nope.”
Sounded like the divorce had been Jeannie’s idea. Sounded like he knew she was a therapist. Once people found out, the troubled, the terrible, the lonely hearts, came out of the woodwork. But he stopped there. “You and Ed aren’t still married? I heard a rumor.”
“Just like high school all over again.” She avoided the question. “Rumors all day and all night.” She laughed. Shrugged again. It was the first genuinely happy moment she’d had all night. Edward was her husband. At least as of today. Until he signed the papers.
She felt herself start to sicken and excused herself, escaping into the bathroom. Social anxiety. She hated that label. She hated “shy” too. She was a plain old introvert, and parties were not her thing. Especially when sober. Especially when Edward had decided to disappear. She needed their world of two to feel safe.
A cluster of women shared a cigarette, and the buzz of their drunk conversation stopped the minute she entered the room.
“You tell Eddie we were smoking, and I’ll yank your hair out.”
God. High school just looped and looped again.
“Stop it, Char.” Another of the group stood up for her. Surprise, surprise. “We were just saying how romantic it is, you and Eddie together again.”
“We’re not.”
“We heard you’re still married.”
“It’s complicated. I’m, uh, excuse me.” She went into a stall and threw up. Sure, the women thought she was drunk, but she knew morning sickness when she felt it.
She came out and someone handed her the empty wine glass. She’d been knocking them back all right. “Guess I better stick to water.” She gave a feeble chuckle and rinsed out her mouth, using a disposable toothbrush.
Everyone laughed and that was that. Until…“Linda saw you. She’s Mark’s girlfriend. He owns the canoe business on Sapphire River.”
Courtney felt queasy. She just wanted to leave and find some soda crackers. Edward probably had them in the kitchen.
“He doesn’t bring women there. It’s his hideout. But you were there last night. Really late.”
She didn’t have to say anything. “Excuse me,” was the best she could do, slipping out the door as more people jammed in the bathroom.
She went into the kitchen, closed for the night, and found oyster crackers. She munched in the dark. Just a few. She should leave. But she wanted to see him so bad. Felicity found her.
“Why are you hiding out in here? You used to love to dance.”
“Still do. Feeling a bit rough at the moment.” She held up the individual-sized crackers.
Felicity’s eyebrows raised, but she didn’t comment. She didn’t ask where Eddie was, either. It was after midnight. Would he even show? To his own party?
“You still live around here?” Courtney vaguely remembered Felicity. They’d been friends in grammar school, and then Felicity faded, just as everyone except Edward had.
Felicity laughed. “Brooklyn. New York.”
The opening chords to the anthem of 1992 played. She’d read it was about Kurt Cobain’s girlfriend’s deodorant. She didn’t care. It had spoken to her then, it spoke to her now.
Felicity grabbed Courtney’s crackers and tossed them on the counter. She grabbed Court’s hand and led her out of the kitchen and onto the dance floor, even though this song was not a great one for dancing. It went from slow and dreamy to screamy, but Courtney knew every lick, every beat, every time she needed to move an arm or swing a hip, and so did Felicity. They grinned at each other, mirrors. Some of the class formed a circle around Felicity and Courtney and clapped along, giving up on trying to keep time to such a weird beat. Felicity whipped her long hair and Courtney did a slow shimmy, moving her body up and down to the chorus. How low—she’d show them how low she could go.
The singer looked impressed from behind his microphone. That used to be Edward up there. Now he mentored these kids, his protégés.
After the song, people laughed and clapped and the singer came down off the stage. “You have to be Courtney.” He still had his mike clipped on, and the crowd roared with approval. Huh, tide turns. Courtney glowed, not from the praise of her classmates, but because Edward had told his band about her. In enough detail that they’d picked her out easily. Courtney laughed and nodded and introduced Felicity and slipped off to the sidelines. Too much attention always made her uncomfortable, and she figured it was time to go. She was all out of small talk.
Felicity came over after the singer got mobbed. “That was fun.”
“It was. Thanks.” Dancing was one way she lost herself. Didn’t feel on display. Just felt her body in its elemental state.
“I have to tell you or I’ll hate myself, but I always admired you when we were kids. You always knew what you wanted. You never compromised. You’re the reason I moved to New York to pursue journalism.”
“You are kidding me.” Courtney felt confused. “I was the class joke.”
“Not to me. And not to a lot of people.”
“That was because of Edward.”
“No, Courtney.”
Felicity had always been scary smart. She should listen to her. “I wish you still lived here.”
“Yeah, heard you bought Doc’s house. Just for summer or full time?”
“I don’t really know. It was an impulse. Honestly, I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, your mom is over the moon.”
Felicity’s mom and Courtney’s mom were friends. That’s how the girls had gotten to know each other as toddlers.
“Still a journalist?”
Felicity laughed. “No, not really. I freelance a bit. But mostly I’m a mom. That’s why Brooklyn and not Manhattan.”
Courtney heard the last word but didn’t. Because Edward had just walked in the door with a guitar strapped to his back. And he was with Ruby. She had her guitar, too. And Lily was suddenly there, filming it all.
****
His staff, his regulars, his former school chums, all wanted a piece of him, but Courtney was all he could see. She only had eyes for her daughter. “Ruby, where have you been?” She ran and hugged the girl to her, and the two of them stood whispering. Eddie snapped out of it and went back where he belonged. Behind the bar. Which is where he’d been when Ruby had ambushed him earlier.
His band, the guys he’d been helping get their act together, called out to him, and he had a faint awareness of the sound. The smells of the bar itself were the usual crushed peanut and spilled beer and sweat aromas that were like a heady perfume to his nostrils. But her. She eclipsed everything. Even with a thick wood bar between them. He went over, meaning to talk to the lead singer of the Angry Angels, but it was like he had entered her spotlight and now it was just the two of them on the barn wood dance floor, their gazes locked. Even Ruby drifted out of his consciousness for a minute, until he realized that’s why he’d said yes to her earlier. Because he couldn’t let go. Not of Courtney. It hurt to be with her, but being with Ruby was easy. She was so like Courtney. Ruby giggled at the lady from the grocery store, obviously drunk, who came up and said, “Oh how sweet, the little family reunited at last.” Every word she said meant the exact opposite. That much was clear to Eddie. Courtney was about at the end of her patience. She was going to run out of calm in about two seconds. He tried to think of words to help, but Courtney surprised him. She turned to Ruby, said, “Behave,” then took Eddie’s hand. It seemed natural to
lead her out to the dance floor.
From the corner of his eye, Eddie saw Ruby move his guitar case under a table and order what he hoped was a ginger ale from a server. After the dance with Courtney, he would take Ruby up on the stage and together they’d play “Lusitania.” She had to make her public debut sometime, and Eddie thought she was ready. Then he remembered he hadn’t played in public since Courtney left town eighteen years ago. No matter. She was in his arms now, and at this moment, that’s all that mattered.
****
Courtney held on to Edward as tightly as she dared with all the eyes in the building trained on them, including Ruby’s. She wanted to get mad at Edward and say he should have called, but she couldn’t. He had his arms around her, and that’s where she wanted to stay. Forever if possible. Could it be? Had he changed his mind? Would he be okay with her baby? It felt like it. Especially when her heart cracked open and out spilled a lifetime of love, right on the dance floor.
“Where were you two?” she said into his ear, not caring that people stared, not caring that they thought they knew her words.
“She showed up here, then we went to my place to practice for American Prodigy.”
Courtney sighed. She knew about that dream. And her mom had mentioned guitar lessons for Ruby. Just not who would be giving them.
“She said she had permission. Anyway, she’s a lovely girl, Court. You did a really good job.”
Courtney laid her head on Edward’s shoulder. If she just lived in this moment forever, everything would be okay.
But then the song was over, and the stage was her daughter’s and Edward’s. He must have been playing regularly because he sounded flawless and so did Ruby. They harmonized on a song she didn’t know as if they’d been singing together for a lifetime. The crowd roared. The Angry Angels looked impressed with Ruby.
After the song, some kind of spell was broken. Ruby was tired and wanted to go home. Too many people and too many shallow conversations made Courtney want the same. Edward was distracted with his band and his bar and his friends. Mother and daughter slipped away undetected.
Love and Death in Blue Lake Page 6