2 Maid in the Shade

by Bridget Allison

  We brought down the house and I looked at my friends, Jackson soaking it up like sunshine, Lucy accepting it as her due and Mona flushed and a little radiant. A couple of male hands were reaching for me as I began to step off the stage. I hesitated; then recognized it for what it was; a gentlemanly gesture toward a woman who had suddenly become a little more accessible.

  Everyone was raving over the real singer in our quartet. Jackson was getting mobbed as the crowd surged forward and enveloped him, including a middle aged couple who may have been his parents. The manager turned down the music so that it was obvious there would be no more karaoke until Jackson got his full accolades.

  I grabbed Lucy from behind and leaned down to hug her, “Let me guess, you were anxious to set this up so Jackson’s friends and parents would see he is incredibly talented.”

  “I planned to do something, somehow, but when you did your little choreographed routine in the kitchen this morning,” she shrugged, “what better opportunity could we have than right now? Do you think they get it?" She asked tilting her head towards Jackson’s parents.

  “Well it isn’t always easy to keep up with your myriad schemes but I’m pretty sure his family knows just how gifted he is. So I suppose the news that he wants to pursue this as a career won’t come as a completely unhappy shock.”

  She smiled, “And you? Happiness achieved, at least for the night? By the way, “Run” was a good choice. And the Rumor dance, I guess gymnastics led to dance?”

  “Yep, so does the dance team director when she sees you can do back flips. And of course there’s the ever popular ritual of middle school—“Cotillion!” We said together.

  As soon as Jared was in front of me, Lucy melted away. “Well, that was an unexpected pleasure.”

  “I am full of unexpected pleasures,” I leered and laughed. It had been something he said to me once.

  I looked around, “Feels like the whole town is here and a lot of the older folks. Is that Lucy’s doing too?”

  He nodded, “And you have some new fans.”

  “I wasn’t aware I had any old ones.”

  “Well any girl who will come out to support a friend just days after going through what you did can win my mother’s heart. Come meet them.”

  “Oh Jared, meeting your family? How can this possibly be a good idea?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, “she knows I’m ahhh, well; she thinks you’re sweet.”

  “I have never been, and do not ever want to be sweet. If she’s tuned into the grapevine she must know I tried to kill you twice.”

  He laughed. “I never said I was her favorite.”

  He grabbed my hand and started leading me over to the side of the bar where his parents were presumably. I pulled my hand back.

  He leaned over and began to whisper promises into my ear. My knees went weak.

  I gulped. “Lead the way.”

  Jared’s mother Sarah was where he got his looks, his father his build. I imagined somewhere along the line they had been football player and head cheerleader. His mother had received my thank you note and was pleased I had enjoyed the quilt. She seemed to relax as we chatted, probably relieved that in spite of the stories, I appeared to be fairly normal.

  Mona appeared beside me. “There’s a fellow here wanted me to come get you, wants to ask us about Jackson I think; he already asked me what brought this on tonight. It could be good for Jackson. This guy looks like he’s here to work. Maybe he’s in show business.”

  I was impressed, “Lucy must have incredible connections then, but sure.”

  Mona pulled me toward a man in a blazer and khakis accompanied by a woman with a camera. The crowd cleared around him a little as we approached and looked at him expectantly. “They better not take our picture,” I muttered to Mona, “focus on telling them about Jackson.”

  “Gotcha,” she said. “Lord this has been fun!”

  As soon as we drew closer the man introduced himself as Brian Kolder with the local news and the camera was raised. I held my hand up in a warning gesture and his companion began to lower it hesitantly. He named the local affiliate he was with; it seemed odd that a village karaoke night qualified as feature news anywhere, but who was I to question the rapidly changing media with their tweets and posts and constant appetite for human interest stories?

  “Gretchen Gallen?” I nodded, “And I suppose you already met Mona,” I grinned, “but Jackson is the talent here tonight, we’re just all here to support him.”

  The locals around us were quiet, straining to hear a snippet of information they could share at the Oasis in the morning.

  Mike Kolder thrust the microphone in front of my face and gave a swift nod to his companion who raised her camera again. “We’re here with Gretchen Gallen at Bunburry’s Tavern in Bridle Springs, Gretchen, can you tell us about your connection to the Mecklenburg rapist and how it is you feel safe enough to be out tonight? Do you have reason to believe he’s in custody? We understand he recently invaded your home and something was left in the form of a threat. Can you give us more details about that? What is it you have on him and have you been one of his victims?”

  My jaw tightened and I blinked back tears. “We’re here to celebrate our incredibly talented friend. To come here in the guise of reporting on Jackson Jones and ask about my rape is shameless. I hope your mother is alive to see how you make a living.”

  “So you are confirming you were raped?”

  Suddenly the reporter and his companion disappeared. Everyone in the room had shifted abruptly and I was insulated by layers of patrons. I could see what had to be those beefy ginger-haired Tucker twins hustling the news team out the door. Jared appeared and tried to put his arms around me but I pushed him away gently. “Where are Jackson and Lucy?”

  “We’re here; do you want us to get you to the car?”

  “Definitely not,” I leaned over and whispered to them and we made our way back to the stage. Someone grabbed Mona and pushed her up on the platform with both hands on her fanny. Lucy spoke to her in a hushed voice.

  I had the mike in my hand. I looked at it in wonder for a moment then spoke. “Obviously those people aren’t from around here, am I right? Turns out we need to cleanse the palate and remember why we came.” There was a silence. Had I miscalculated our ability to turn this around?

  “Who are we here for?” I shouted into the mike. I smiled and cupped my hand to my ear, extending the mike toward them. “Jackson!” they began to shout and clap. “That’s right! How about a few more songs Jackson?”

  His new fans continued to clap wildly.

  Jackson jumped up on the platform and I handed him the mike. He cleared his throat. “I was teasing Lucy and Mona ‘fore we came tonight about them having Redneck Woman as their anthem, but I want to do a song for Gretchen, I can’t think of a better one for this girl right now than “Shake it Off” so y’all want to hear that first? They yelled their approval and I moved to jump off the stage when he gripped my hand. “Oh no baby, you’re not going anywhere. I’m singing this to you and I’m singing this FOR you.”

  Jackson held my hand throughout the song, looking into my eyes and then at the crowd. When he finished he released his grip on me and I turned only to run up against Lucy. Jackson tossed her the mike and she grabbed my hand and said, “I want to dedicate this song to a person who will kill me for dedicating a second song to her, she looked dramatically up into my eyes. So she will remain nameless.” She turned and winked at the crowd and they started to laugh. “You know I can’t really sing worth a damn so help us out. Anybody here know “Cheers?”

  I leapt lightly down from the stage and watched Lucy, Jackson and Mona sing and dance to “I’ll Drink to That,” which couldn’t be further from my particular mode of celebration, but shifted the mood of the room back to a festive one. I settled myself beside a man who looked to be in his forties with a big black beard and a sleeveless shirt, obviously to show off his intricate tattoos. He reached up and
tousled my hair like you would a child’s and patted my shoulder awkwardly before turning to look back up at the stage while the trio performed “Brighter than the Sun.” Lucy and Mona stepped down beside me while Jackson covered “She Will Be Loved,” “Forget You” (Cee Lo’s cleaned up version) and a few others. He was so much better with us out of the way, I thought as I grinned and wiped my eyes once. The tattooed gentleman beside me shot me a look of concern and I grinned and shrugged. He nodded with something like approval and took another swig of beer.

  Then as Jackson wrapped up his performance I saw Jared urging some men onto the stage which was a great strategy. It put focus seamlessly back on the bar and the good time everyone had come there for.

  Tweet: “Is there a pill for hypochondria?”

  Chapter 25

  I left the bar with Lucy after a decent interval and Jackson and Mona stayed on. It was getting pretty late when I saw the jeep pull in the driveway. Mona clambered out with what looked like a handmade duffle. It was hideous with a variety of patterns and shapes. That thing was long as my legs and stuffed to the gills. She refused to let Jackson help her with it so I didn’t bother to try.

  “Uh Mona, we are going to be switching off nights,” I said uneasily. “You sure brought a lot of stuff.”

  “Oh,” she said “don’t you worry, I always over pack and you never know, maybe Lucy won’t be able to come tomorrow or whatnot. Now,” she said, waddling slightly with the weight of the bag as she headed to the back bedroom, “I feel like I been rode hard and put up wet, so I’d appreciate one of them pain pills. Also, I do like a glass of warm milk with my medicines, and then I’ll be out like a light.”

  She turned toward me, “Well go on now, and don’t heat it in the microwave, do it in a sauce pan and take the skin off before you pour it you hear?”

  I nodded dumbly and headed to the refrigerator as she unpacked and dressed. When I brought the glass into the bedroom she looked like she was in for the winter. The bag had been dumped out but had still retained its shape and was lying beside her on the bed. The closet was open with a sweater and slacks folded neatly on the shelves. A pouch that matched the overnight bag was lying on the closet floor. Mona was wearing a nightgown and sheer periwinkle robe identical to my own. I hadn’t planned on wearing mine tonight, now I doubted I would ever wear it again.

  I smiled at her as I placed the milk and baby aspirin carefully on the bedside table. “What’s with all the other pills?” I asked.

  She waved towards them dismissively, “things to help me sleep or for pain, vitamins and supplements and such.”

  I indicated the long noodle of a pillow she had beside her. “And that?”

  She looked flustered, “It helps me sleep. Did you know that if you roll over on your back you’re more likely to snore?”

  “Good to know,” I grinned. “Want the window open?” I asked as I watched her take the pills and chase them down with the milk.

  “Naw, if some nasty man is going to try to come in through there he ought to make a proper job of it. I never did believe in enabling the morally handicapped.” She closed her eyes and I switched off the light, taking her empty glass to the kitchen. I stopped to scratch Mosey behind the ears. My poor boy was so out from exhaustion he just opened one eye, peered at me with some effort and fell back asleep. Obviously all of this extra activity was wearing him down. The revisit to his earlier trauma via the eye had probably put him in quite a PTSD tailspin. I laid my cheek against his jaw and patted him before heading upstairs.

  With just Mona here I needed to stay on my toes, I mused, I would have been better off alone. I paced around for a while, feeling as though I was guarding Mona, then I realized I was probably keeping her from sleeping when she hinted as much. “If you’re gonna stomp around all night would you at least take those boots off? Sounds like you’re riding a mule up there!” she hollered.

  “Sorry Mona,” I yelled back.

  “S’alright,” she called back to me, “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here. Now get in the bed! Don’t make me have to come up there!”

  I chuckled, hopping onto the bed quickly and the springs protested as I slid my boots off.

  “Are you jumping on the bed?” Mona yelled.

  “Are you crazy?” I shouted back in exasperation.

  “Little bit sugar,” she chortled. “Little bit!”

  I opened a drawer and got my old gym shorts and a tank tee shirt to wear to bed. I left my shoes close by the nightstand. I wasn’t expecting trouble, but with my elderly bodyguard, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more prepared than usual.

  I slept restlessly and awoke with a start. I lay there listening for a moment, wondering if Mona had called to me or fallen out of bed or perhaps talked in her sleep. I lay there in the dark, eyes open to see if the sound would start again. It did. Footsteps were creaking on the floorboards of my front porch. Someone began to whistle a tune I recognized. I lay there, my muscles tensed and my veins beginning to ice over. I heard a click and my front door knob turn downstairs and the door made a yawning protest as it opened slowly. Had I really been that stupid and left the door unlocked? No; I remembered locking up. Besides, I was pretty sure I heard a click as the lock tumbled. Whoever was here had used a key, which was not hard to obtain given my carelessness with them and the fact I had several inside the house on a key holder.

  I was certain it was a man; the man who had set the death scene in my tub. If he suspected I wasn’t here alone he would check the downstairs and find Mona. I heard the steps stop as the front door closed more softly. He stood in what passed for a foyer, a tiny area where you could choose right for the den or left for the bedrooms. He started whistling again, the Twisted Nerve tune.

  Mona could easily be asleep, with all those medications she took. I would have to do something about her.

  Quietly I slipped my shoes on and padded to peer over the half wall. I could barely make out his shadowy figure. I pulled back just as he began to raise his head to look up. Then I saw him turn back to the hall, which led to the bedrooms.

  I rose up quickly and turned on the light switch to divert his attention. The footsteps sounded slowly towards the loft stairs. I stood up. All the blood seemed to drain from me as I looked down and met his eyes. I realized some part of me had known it was Hugh for some time.

  I spoke up, “It's a little late to be popping in on an old colleague, and you've come empty handed to boot. One more vestige of etiquette gone,” I frowned, “where is the civility?”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife flipping the blade up and out. “Not empty handed. I came over to do your eyes Gretchen. You know, like those surprise makeovers on the reality channel?”

  “Both eyes is it now? My goodness, someone isn’t very disciplined, you should stick to one routine. Wouldn't want your victim count to suffer and be attributed to someone else. You must be very proud of the number of women you've assaulted.”

  “I keep track,” he said smiling up at me. “When I'm gone someday they’ll find a list and the notoriety will follow. I can add you to my roster before midnight if you would just skip on down here.”

  I grinned with a confidence I didn't feel. “I will have to give you credit for one thing, you always did like to delegate. But you cannot actually conscript me into rushing into that knife. I guess you're just going to have to come get me.”

  “You aren't going to run?” He looked disappointed.

  I tilted my head, looking him up and down before frowning apologetically. “No offense, Hugh, but you really don't look that fit. I can vanish before you hit the landing. I won’t be running as much as I will be outwitting and evading.”

  He chuckled, “Then I really hope you hide, it's so much more satisfying when a woman is under a bed trying not to breathe too loudly when she hears me come into the room. Then the room goes dark and she shrieks and kicks as I pull her out by her ankles. It's exhilarating.

  “Every child has that nig
htmare at some point I believe. For you girls, I become the dream man; the nightmare in the flesh. Of course I get to leave the lights on for us. You’ll get to see me in action until the lights go out for good for you.”

  “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

  He rocked back and forth on his heels, his hands behind his back as though he were speaking to a mildly interesting cocktail party guest. “Sometimes,” he said as though he was sharing a trade secret with me. “I like to stand in front of the bed, walk out and come back in just as she sighs with relief.”

  “I was different though.”

  “Yes,” he nodded seriously. “Up until that night I just used GHB. The urge wasn’t as frequent and I only gave into it when I traveled. “But with you?” He continued, “You were weakened, a little buzzed and I saw an opportunity. A whole new avenue opened up for me. I have a real taste for girls on the cusp of believing they have a glorious career ahead of them just before I derail their little fast track trains. And you were the worst; a little upstart bitch that needed to be put in her place. But I had counted on you to avoid the city after our little encounter. I didn’t like the idea of you continuing to turn up at the firm. You were making me uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, well, we couldn’t have a degenerate criminal feeling uneasy could we?” I jibed.

  He ignored that and went on. “To speed you on your way out the door I put a bottle of vodka and some pills in your office and left the drawer open one night. I asked a senior manager to go look for a file on your desk. I defended you when he reported what he discovered. That was a stroke of genius. You don’t mind me using the word stroke do you?” He gave an ugly laugh.

  “I just mind you using the word genius,” I replied smoothly. “And the eye thing? Is it really just a classic warning to future victims not to look? Or is it some textbook psychology cliché, did Mommy turn a blind eye to your suffering?”