Hildreth 2-in-1

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  We need to talk. I have the information you want. I believe it is time you knew the truth. I’ll meet you at the fountain at Forsythe Park at 2 p.m.”

  I would have completely missed the typewritten note had it not fallen to the floor when I laid my purse on my desk. I didn’t know what to do. Should I run around screaming, “I’ve got the story. I’ve got the story!”? Should I call the police and request an escort? Should I even go at all? And was this even the story that should be told? After the fiasco of that morning, who knew what really needed to be told? But I knew I had to go.

  My mind began to race. Maybe Mrs. Harvard had a change of heart. Maybe it was Mr. Cummings . . . or Katherine, finally ready to talk after what she had read in the paper today. Maybe she hated me now and wanted to slap me around. It was only 1:20. I would go stir-crazy before two. There was no way I could stay here. I had to get a Coke, get something.

  I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, calling to Marla as I passed, “If anyone needs me, they can call me on my cell. I’m closing in on my story, and I’ll be back later.”

  “You got it, girlfriend.”

  Curly Locks emerged from his car with a cup of coffee that looked mighty familiar. It was from Jake’s. I knew he would want to talk, but there was no time. So I just answered his questions before he asked them. “I’m going to get a Coke. I have a lead on my story. I’ll be back before quitting time, and I’m glad to see you finally got you some real coffee.”With that, I got in my car and sped in the direction of Jake’s. I grabbed my cell phone out of my purse as I navigated myself through Reynolds Square.

  “Jackson County Courthouse,” someone crooned.

  “Gregory Taylor, please.”

  “One moment.”

  “Gregory Taylor.”

  “Grisham, it’s Savannah,” I said.“I believe something is about to break. My first story was a bomb, according to some, but maybe not everyone, but definitely my father and definitely Emma, and I’m not sure what my break is, I’m not even sure it is a break. I’m not sure even if it’s anything at all; it could be nothing; it’s probably nothing. No, it can’t be nothing; I have to have something by tomorrow!”

  “Would you stop and breathe? You’re wearing me out, and I don’t get paid enough for such nonsense. Now, take a breath and start at the beginning,” he said.

  I pulled the car in front of Dad’s store and cut the engine.“I’m not even sure what the beginning is.”

  “Well, just start somewhere—you’re driving me crazy,” he said.

  I started with the phone call from number III and went all the way up to the note on my desk a moment ago. “So anyway, now I’m going to get a Coke, because I couldn’t sit in my office until two doing nothing except draft my ‘Apology of a Loser.’ So who do you think the note’s from?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “What do you mean you have no idea? I called you because I figured you’d know. Lawyers always know. And even if they don’t, they act like they do. So start acting like you do!”

  “Well then, I have a couple of ideas. Did Cummings act like he was in town?”

  “No. Well, he never mentioned that he was. Not that he would have. You don’t think it is him, do you? I mean if it is, I might need to take someone with me, just in case.”

  “Savannah, that man is not going to hurt you. He is old, well-known, and not in the business of killing local reporters who have never actually reported a thing a day in their lives.”

  “Oh, thanks! I’m just a fanny load of encouragement now!”

  “You are so dramatic. Has anyone ever told you that you should really have been an actress?”

  “Has anyone told you you should really not try to be a psychiatrist and dissect people’s personalities?”

  “Honestly, Savannah, I really don’t know who it is. It could be anyone or no one. Do many people who aren’t actually related to this story know what you are up to?” he asked.

  “No, no one actually. I mean, I just told my dad the whole story. My mother knew, but she must be solving world hunger because I haven’t even heard from her today.” I gasped. “Oh my Lord, have mercy!”

  “What? What?”

  “I haven’t heard from my mother today! Do you have any idea what that means?”

  “I have absolutely no idea what that means.”

  “That means at this moment, my mother is somewhere in this city planning a party bigger than Texas. And she will have circus men and airplanes flying banners, and she’s liable to have a billboard bigger than life with my face and name splattered across it. As soon as this is over, I have got to find her and stop her. She’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.”

  “Savannah, it’s time to let your mother go. You just go to the park, face whatever it is head-on, and see what it holds. You can handle it. Of that I’m sure.”

  “Do you really think I can?”

  “You’ve proven it already. Look back, Savannah. Look back at all you’ve done this last week, and you’ll know that nothing you can meet today will be more than what you’ve already had to face. Chin up, young girl. Counsel says, pursue,” he said with a laugh.“But call me immediately.”

  “If you don’t hear from me . . .”

  “Trust me, I’ll hear from you.”

  “Did this cost me? Because you were really weak today.”

  “Yes! For unappreciation I charge triple.”

  “OK, the check’s in the mail.”

  Duke came over and put his head under my hand as soon as I sat down at a front table by the window. That was his way of letting anyone know he needed petting. Obliging, I took his head between my two hands and got up close, where his big black nose was almost touching mine. He thought that meant I needed to be kissed. Only my quick reflexes saved my face from being lovingly slathered with dog drool.

  “Duke, do you have any idea how lucky you are?” I asked. His expression assured me he knew I was trying to give him a valuable life lesson.“People feed you, bathe you, kiss you,walk you, and pet you. You have no job, no bills, no responsibilities. Granted, you have issues with Vicky and that darling lab up the street, but don’t we all? On the whole, you really have it made.

  “And you are loved. Deeply loved. Maybe not by the people who have to buy a new pair of tennis shoes every other month, but by most. The women adore you.” I could have sworn he smiled at that one. “And Dad, well, Dad would be hard pressed if ever forced to choose between you and Vicky. Don’t take this for granted. Savor it, relish it, chase cats up trees, roll around in the mud, retrieve whatever your little heart desires, take baths in Vicky’s pool. My stars, lick yourself if you want to. After all, that’s what dogs do. You have only one life, Duke; live it well.”

  “You might want to see a counselor for that,” Dad said as he sat down in the chair across from me.

  “I’ve been hearing way too much about counselors lately.”

  “They make movies about people who talk to animals.”

  “You’re thinking of movies about people who can hear animals talk. I only wish I knew what this old fella was thinking.”

  “No, it’s probably best we don’t,” he said, laughing.“Especially for your mother’s sake.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that.“What in the world are you doing back here in the middle of the afternoon? Please don’t tell me you’ve lost your job already.”

  “No. I tried, but he refused. I’m here for the caffeine,” I said, rising to go into the back. Duke followed me, hoping I might need more time to talk through things while rubbing his head. Dad followed too.

  “I hear they have a Coke machine down at the Chronicle. ”

  I reached the back room, pulled a glass out of the cabinet, and proceeded to the ice dispenser. “Actually, I have a two o’clock appointment at the park and had a few minutes to kill.”

  Dad came around to the side of the Coke machine where he knew he would be in my view.“What’s going o
n?”

  “I don’t know,” I told him, grabbing a straw from the straw box. I unwrapped it, placed it in my glass, and took a long drink. Then I backed up so I could lean against the counter. “I thought I had written a good story. But obviously it lacked wisdom. I got scolded by you and reamed out by Emma. My resignation was refused, I do believe my mother’s planning a party bigger than one she would throw for ‘Bushie,’ and I’m headed to the park to meet a stranger who might want to kill me. And the day isn’t even half over.”

  “So you have no idea who you’re meeting at the park?”

  “Absolutely no idea,” I said, taking another long swig of my Coke. By then he was reaching for a Coke himself.

  “Emma wasn’t very happy, huh?”

  “Madder than the wasp that flew up Victoria’s dress.”

  “Let you have it, huh?”

  “Both barrels.”

  “Still going to write a story about a rigged beauty pageant?”

  “That or Dead Woman Walking.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The fountain stared at me from the south side of Forsythe Park. One fifty. It was time to do the work of a journalist. It was time to discover my story.

  Unfortunately, it couldn’t be done here in the car, even though my sore behind had finally found a comfortable position on Old Betsy’s pillow. I wasn’t sure I wanted this story anymore, or this job or this chaos or this changing relationship with my father. I wasn’t sure I wanted anything to change. Maybe I should go back and get my doctorate in how to become a professional student. Maybe I shouldn’t move out. Maybe I’m pressuring myself to grow up before I’m ready. My word, I’m only twenty-four. I’m just a babe. Babes shouldn’t be putting their lives in danger for a dumb beauty pageant. Babes should be curled up on chairs with their mothers. Sharing stories with their fathers. But I am not a babe. I, Savannah Phillips, am a grown woman. Extricating myself from the car, I began a slow but determined walk to the fountain.

  At five ’til two, I saw her at the top of the main path leading to the fountain. She was wearing a beautiful peach linen pantsuit. I stopped before she saw me. This was no time for a Vicky encounter. I was too frustrated to see her anyway, and whoever was meeting me didn’t want to have to deal with two Phillips women at once. So I withdrew to the other side of the sidewalk. I watched her for a minute from behind some shrubbery. At least she wasn’t tucked away in her office coordinating hula dancers and knife throwers. You need to go to a meeting or a walking tour or a trolley ride or something. But she wasn’t with anyone. She was standing in front of the fountain as if she were waiting.

  As if struck by a flying tiara, the realization hit me: She was waiting for me. Vicky was my appointment.

  My thoughts ran out of control. What did she know? Had she been a part of something? Did I know my mother at all?

  Must a woman have all her life-changing moments in the course of one day?

  I looked at her again. Even from here I could see the concern on her face, the intensity of her brow. Now granted, Vicky was always intense, but this was a different expression. I saw a mother about to play a different role in her daughter’s life than either had ever known.

  I could run, but no number of miles would ever create enough distance to leave behind what I had seen at the fountain. I knew that going forward was the only option. Vicky knew too. I reset my step.

  She turned around and saw me coming, then smiled at me in a bashful way never before directed toward me. Dad had received this smile a thousand times. It was half “I’m sorry,” half “You’ll appreciate me after you hear what I actually have to say” kind of smile.

  “Hello, darling, I can only imagine what you’re thinking,” she said, trying to offer a faint laugh.

  “I’m not sure that you can. I don’t even know what I’m thinking.” I stared at her blankly.

  “Would you like to walk?” she asked, motioning to the side of the fountain.

  “Sure.” I followed her lead.

  “I haven’t really been able to sleep since our conversation the other night. And after your conversation with Mr. Cummings and after reading your article in the paper, I knew you needed to know the whole story. I wish I had told you earlier. It could have spared all of us pain, especially Emma.”

  “You know something that could have stopped me from writing that article?”

  “I just need you to listen to me.”

  My agitation grew. “I’m not sure that I want to listen to you.”

  “Savannah, watch your tone. I’m sure you’ve had an eventful day, but I’m still your mother.”

  “Eventful? Eventful? I would say so. I’ve been reprimanded by my father, screamed at by Emma, and embarrassed in front of my entire office. And now you’re here with information that could have stopped it all. Why now?”

  “Why now am I telling you, or just why now?”

  “Why, after all these years of sticking your nose into everything from the very beginning, would you wait until now, after a tombstone’s being carved with my initials?”

  “Savannah, what in the world are you talking about?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You know good and well what I’m talking about!”

  “I know good and well that my hand is about to meet your face if you speak to me that way again.”

  I tried to pull back my tone, but I was so angry that trying to contain twenty-four years of whys was virtually impossible.“You’re why I’m here. I wouldn’t be going through any of this if you would have just stayed out of my fiction contest at school. But no, you had to get involved. You couldn’t just let me win on my own.”

  “You think I helped you win that contest?”

  “Mother, please, let’s lose the drama. I know you had everything to do with me winning that contest.”

  Vicky hooked her arm in mine and tugged my rigid frame along beside her. “You think you’re all grown up, don’t you, Savannah? You think you know everything, I can tell. Well, you walk and listen; I’ll talk. Understand?”

  I harrumphed.“Talk away.” Her heels made an irritating clicking sound on the sidewalk.

  “During my reign as Miss Georgia United States of America, I found out that the pageant was rigged. One night during my preparation for the Miss United States of America Pageant I was over at Mr. and Mrs. Todd’s house going over my schedule of appearances. Mr. and Mrs. Cummings were there as well. I had found out the families were good friends, but I had never thought much about it. That night, I left them at the table after dinner and went to the bathroom. As I was returning, I heard Mr. Cummings mention to Mr. Todd that the sale of the program pages had been extremely high. Something inside me told me to just stop and listen. So I stayed tucked away in the hallway where they couldn’t see me.

  “Mr. Cummings asked Mr. Todd what he had done to encourage such high sales. Mr. Todd started laughing and said that somehow the girls had gotten the idea that the more pages they sold the more likely they were to win. He said the girls had set themselves into competition with each other before the pageant had ever started. ‘It’s so funny, isn’t it?’ he said.‘Watching those girls try so hard, knowing I decide the winner on the final night myself. The god of the pageant, that’s me. I know who I want, and I have to live with her for a year, so you bet I’m going to choose her.’”

  “He said that?”

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” After all this time, judging the pageant had been about nothing but power. The craziness of it all was just settling in when she continued.“Well, then Mrs. Todd asked Mrs. Cummings if she had received her thank-you note and gift.

  Mr. Cummings answered for her, saying she had and that was what made him realize they had sold a substantial amount of pages.”

  “So it was true.”

  “Yes, it was. Mr. Todd thanked Mrs. Cummings for her company’s fine printing job and laughed again and called it the most expensive comped service anyone had ever been given. At th
at point, I didn’t know how I was ever going to return to that room without my face giving away what I knew.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I just summoned all my acting experience and gave the best performance I’d ever given,” she said, putting her hand on her chest.

  I almost said, “Up to that moment,” but I didn’t want to stop her momentum.

  She continued.“When they saw me come around the corner, they immediately changed the subject to the Georgia weather. Everyone finished dinner, and Mr. and Mrs. Cummings left. I told them I needed to leave as well. I climbed in my car and cried the whole way home. At that moment, I knew I hadn’t won legitimately. I had been picked by two sickening individuals, not by five legitimate judges, and certainly not because of my all-around talent and personality.”

  “And you do have that.”

  “Well, I think so. Anyway, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t want to tell anyone, because I was so mortified. How could I tell people that I wasn’t really Miss Georgia United States of America, but I was Miss Money Market Miss?”

  “I know you did not just call yourself Miss Money Market Miss.’”

  “Yes, I did. I felt cheapened, violated. I felt like someone had stolen my greatest dream from me.”

  I couldn’t let her go with that. I slipped out of her arm and made her look at me square in the eye.“I can’t believe that was your greatest dream. And I don’t mean any offense, but I don’t know how you can compare losing a beauty pageant to what I’ve lost. I mean, it is nothing more than a group of women strutting around in bathing suits, vying for five people’s approval, and sauntering across a stage in expensive and hideous gowns.”

  “Not all of them are hideous.”

  “Mother, honestly, how can that be your greatest dream? Those women are a bunch of overcooked, overemotional, over-the-top phonies.”

  “That’s enough, Savannah Phillips!” Mother said with a tone I had heard only in moments about to involve extreme contact. “Sit down and let me explain before you make me out to be some mindless twit.”