I feel guilty and relieved about that all at the same time. He can empathize and at least there’s no having to explain to him that losing Alex was more than just losing a friend. He even refers to us as a couple of widowers.
I sometimes pretend that my life in New Orleans was a dream and that I never left home. It works for a little bit, but then I feel guilty for finding relief in the fantasy because it means pretending that life with her never existed.
I guess it’s all part of the process.
Apparently another part of the process is that I can’t paint or draw. I sit for hours staring at my sketch pad while dad’s at work, hoping he will email me something to do—an errand, a library run, anything.
Liz
November 14, 2012
Hey, kiddo.
I’m sorry to hear that the muse left you. I suspect she’s grieving too and she’ll be back.
Mike seems to have found some muse of his own. He is really putting his shoulder into working on the dissertation. I don’t know what your dad said to him, but apparently it really set off a new flurry of writing and research.
I have to admit that I’m taking advantage of my absent-minded professor, though. He’s always so appreciative when I have dinner for him or when I stop by the office with coffee before his evening class. He’s a far cry from my normal type, as you know, but for that I’m very grateful.
Kirby
November 20, 2012
K,
I’m glad to hear that things are going well with Mike. He seems like a great guy, and I know dad thinks he’s got a lot of potential. Alex thought a lot of him, too, and I know she would be glad the two of you found each other.
I know he’s told you about finding Tim’s body, and of course there’s been plenty of that in the news since Wren’s arrest. Maybe finally having some closure on Tim’s death and realizing it wasn’t a suicide was good for him.
I remember Alex telling me that he was convinced from the start that it wasn’t a suicide. She was so sure he was wrong and just grieving. If we listened to him, maybe Wren wouldn’t have gotten to her.
I am not looking forward to the holidays but my aunt Alice is possibly coming for Thanksgiving and staying through Christmas. That will be a welcome distraction.
Liz
November 25, 2012
Lovely Liz,
I think you are right about Mike getting some closure. While he’s been sad about Alex, he did find some comfort over knowing that Tim hadn’t been hiding things or that he simply didn’t see the signs. He still questions that Wren was able to get to him, but who knows the truth? Perhaps she tried to convince him that she just wanted to help him get home that night? Survivor’s guilt can be a real bitch (take note, dear).
I’m glad that there’s a potential for some distraction during the holidays. You better be getting ready to come home, as we want to celebrate New Years with you. You’re still coming home then, aren’t you?
You haven’t mentioned having any nightmares, which I am hoping means that you’ve found some relief by taking a break from New Orleans.
We miss you, little sister, and we look forward to having you home. You’ll be amazed at how domesticated I’ve become.
Kirby
December 1, 2012
Kirby,
The nightmares I was having do seem to have stalled at least. I’m not really sure what that means, though. When I sleep I seem to sleep hard, but I still don’t ever really feel rested.
Restlessness is sort of my constant state, probably even when I’m sleeping. Maybe I am dreaming about it and my brain just isn’t letting me know I am? Whatever is going on, I just wish I could not be so restless. I know that I’ll never be the same, but just to feel some sense of normality would be nice.
I’m having fun getting to know Alice again, and dad’s been phenomenal, but no matter what happens I always still feel like a kid here. This just isn’t my home any more. I have to say that I am scared shitless that being there won’t feel like home again either, since she’s gone, but I’m going to have to try.
So, I’ve been looking online at the menus for the Réveillon dinners and it makes me miss home even more. I miss everything, even the crowd at the bar. If you find any gossip that isn’t about me, please write it down and send it my way.
Love,
Liz
Chapter Five
Dr. Elliott Camp wasn’t sure how to help his daughter. Shortly after the memorial service for Alex, Liz returned with him to Hattiesburg for some time away from the house they shared—the same house where she witnessed what was reported to have been the very gory murder of the woman she loved. He wished that she had been spared that; when his wife died, he was spared having to see the wreckage. In some ways, though, only having seen his wife after she was taken to surgery only to die on the table made it harder for him to accept she was dead. At the time, it seemed like a cruel joke, the hospital setting and its sterility too much like a diorama and not enough like real life. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see the woman you loved dead in the house and in the bedroom that you shared.
His daughter’s widowhood was definitely easy for him to relate to. When Liz was an infant, her mother died in a tragic car accident. She’d been hit head-on one night coming home from a gallery showing on the coast by a drunk driver who was traveling the wrong way on the highway. They were still newlyweds, only married a couple of years. He dealt with the anger over the accident itself and long dealt with the anger that they never had the chance to grow tired of one another or to really establish a rhythm.
Now, he finally knew that there was the chance for moving on. After nearly 27 years, he finally met someone he thought could be the relationship he’d wanted and grieved over for so many years. Of course, the relationship was still fairly new; so new, in fact that he had yet to tell Liz about it. He couldn’t tell her now, not with Alex gone.
In the early days after his wife’s death he’d been too wrapped up in taking care of Liz to totally get lost in his grief. Liz probably saved him from alcoholism or other, faster means of suicide. Now it was his turn to try to save her from similar horrible fates as she mourned Alex. He found comfort in the fact that her old friend Kirby would be in New Orleans to take care of her when she went back. The bond between Kirby and Liz was a strong one, and she was so happy he’d returned from chasing after some boy in California.
He puttered about the kitchen, debating whether to wake her. He’d decided not to, and he was fixing a cup of coffee for himself to take back to his office when she shuffled in from upstairs.
“Good morning, dad.” She kissed him on the cheek on the way to the coffee pot. “You just make this pot?”
“Yes, I was just deciding to let you sleep in, and here you are.” Elliott smiled weakly, unable to hide his worry. Liz could see it on his face, though. After the memorial service, she had ridden back with him, unable to bear the thought of going back to the house. She stayed at Lisa’s in the days leading up to the memorial service, but she’d felt odd about staying there, and things were still too fresh.
She sat at the kitchen table. “Thanks for letting me stay for awhile, dad. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I find myself thinking about how I should call her, and then I remember that I can’t. Sometimes I feel normal, and then it will wallop me from out of nowhere.”
He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “I think I know how you feel on some level, baby. I’m not happy about the circumstances, but you know you are welcome to move back in here permanently. Not that I think you should be an old recluse like me.” Liz just laid her head on his shoulder in reply. They both knew that she would only stay awhile but she appreciated the offer and the sense of safety it offered her. New Orleans was her home now, and she just didn’t fit in Hattiesburg. If she wanted to go to school it would have been another thing entirely, but for a single lesbian painter, a small Mississippi town is not really the ideal home, even if her dad li
ves there.
They sat quietly for awhile drinking their coffee and reading the paper.
In New Orleans, the aftermath of the murders kept the entire city buzzing with rumors. Wren, the arrested murderer, apparently had been on a killing spree of epic proportions. She’d been connected not only to the murder of Alex, but also of Ryna and Sienna, both women she was linked to romantically. In addition, the prosecutor kept making connections to other murders. There was the death of Wanda, a coworker of Liz’s, who was being added to the list after the discovery of a ring she was known to wear in Wren’s apartment. There was also talk that she was going to be charged in the death of Tim Clark, a professor at UNO, after investigation revealed that the manner of death in his case resembled that in Sienna’s case. The similarities in the murder scenes, which were made to look like suicides, were too obvious to ignore. Liz was unable to turn on the TV or read the paper without having to deal with stories about Wren, which was one reason she was glad to take refuge at her father’s house. The Hattiesburg American and the local channels, the few times the TV was on in the house, were concerned with other more local and wholesome matters.
Liz had been prone to vivid dreams and episodes of sleepwalking as a child, and shortly before Alex’s murder, she’d started her night wandering again, waking up in the park and other places other than her bed. After the murders, she often dreamt of the final time she saw Alex. The crazed expression on Wren’s face—one that was practically feral--haunted Liz’s dreams every night she remained in the city, making arrangements for the memorial service with the help of her friend John Kirby and his boyfriend, Mike Courtland. She managed an uninterrupted night of sleep finally only by going to Hattiesburg and staying in her old room. Blissfully, once she was home, she dreamt of nothing. Sleep instead became a dark cavern that she fell into and often had to be physically roused from, especially in the first few days she was in her father’s home. As a kid and even as a teenager, she was never a late sleeper, and after a week or so of her barely making it out of bed in time for lunch, he started waking her up before he left the house. She felt embarrassed about it and started setting an alarm so that she was up before he came looking for her and they could have coffee before he left for work.
She felt oddly at home and adrift at the same time being back in Hattiesburg. She sipped her coffee and pretended to read the paper as she watched her father out of the corner of her eye. She could see where the lines around his eyes had grown a little deeper, the grey at his temples a little more prominent. She knew that Alex’s death not only impacted him in the normal way in sorrow for that loss, but that it also stirred up a lot of memories over the loss of her mother.
For Liz, things were even cloudier. She never really considered the idea of having kids before, but now she wished she and Alex had been able to really talk about it. While a child they shared would have been a comfort to her now, she knew the idea was ultimately a selfish one. Liz had grown up without a mother herself, and she wouldn’t wish a life with only one parent on her imaginary child. Still, she grieved what could have been as they grew older together harder than she did the years they were able to have.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Your aunt Alice wants to come here for the Christmas holiday. She expects that the divorce will be final, and she wants to spend some time with us.” Elliott got up and rinsed his coffee mug, setting it in the sink. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, not at all. You know Alice and I have always gotten along.”
Alice was Elliott’s sister; she was a good ten years younger than her brother, and she was a teenager when Liz lost her mother. Alice was the main woman in Liz’s life growing up, but they lost contact when Liz was in high school after Alice married and moved to Indiana. That was a good ten or twelve years ago. The divorce was a long time coming, from what Elliott told his daughter; Alice finally published a novel that was a success and that garnered an advance on a second novel. Unfortunately, her husband, Leroy, wasn’t supportive and was rather grouchy and covetous of the time she devoted to writing and building her career. After a few blow ups over travel related to the book tour for her first novel, Alice decided she didn’t really need the drama and she wasn’t getting much out of the relationship other than a hard time. There were no children between them, so at least that part wasn’t messy. Leroy, though, was trying to cash in on his soon-to-be ex-wife’s success.
“She mentioned she would like to come right before Thanksgiving and stay as she does book signings in the area. She really wants to get the talk about the first novel stirred up again, and she is coming in to talk to the creative writing students and maybe do a couple of signings in town.”
November moved in quickly and with Alice coming there was plenty of dusting and setting the house to rights to do, as Elliott was tidy but he also didn’t use much of the house. By the time the fall term was winding down at Thanksgiving, Liz had plenty of distractions between thinking of ways to help her father while he wrote, administered, and graded final exams and with preparations for Thanksgiving dinner. In the days before Thanksgiving, Alice made the rounds, visiting the few physical bookstores left in town and nearby doing signings. She also gave Elliott a little star power and pizzazz on campus; students were in awe that he was not just Professor Camp but that he was also the big brother of Alice Camp Weathers.
Divorce agreed with Alice and she was back to her old self. Liz was initially worried that her aunt would still be the quiet version of herself that she became when she first married Leroy, but Alice managed to shrug that off and was vibrant again. Liz also enjoyed seeing her father and her aunt together. Having his younger sister around brightened his mood, and Liz saw the lines on his face begin to soften.
Her own mood likewise lightened; Alice enlisted Liz to help her on the book tour for the local engagements and the time out of the house was a welcome change. It was the evenings that were her favorite time, though, once the daily work or book signings were done and she could sit down with them and just listen to them talk. She also loved to hear the two of them talking in the next room, as she puttered in the kitchen.
She was rinsing dinner plates and noticed the conversation in the next room was a bit too quiet to hear over the sound of the faucet. She left the water running and moved toward the doorway to hear better.
“Come on, Elliott—she’ll be happy to think that you’ve got someone in your life. You’ve been on hold for so long. This is the first interest I’ve seen you show in a woman since. .“
Elliott stopped her short of saying his late wife’s name. “I know, I know, it just seemed like a really awful time to tell her about something happy. We do manage to see a good bit of each other on campus.” He cleared his throat. “I was tempted to invite her to Thanksgiving dinner, but she understood and already made plans to have dinner with her parents.”
Alice laughed. “Oh, God—how old is she? Please tell me she is not a student.”
“Don’t worry, she’s my age. She just happens to still have her parents. And no, she’s not a student. She’s a lecturer. She specializes in folklore and regional literature. She’s quite spectacular.” His blush was practically audible in his voice. He is so cute, thought Liz.
“Oh, I know who it is now—Virginia Lawrence. She came and got her book signed. I wondered why she kept looking at my face like she was searching for something or like she was hiding a big secret. It must have been that she was sizing up your sister!”
Liz stepped back toward the sink, as the conversation went back to the normal volume level. With Alice, things rarely managed to stay quiet.
She wandered in later as they were talking about Alice’s plans now that she was single again. She waited for a break in the conversation. Smiling, she said very quietly, “Maybe dad can give you some dating advice.”
Elliott was flustered. “Oh, honey—I didn’t mean for you to overhear it. I really did want to tell you. It is a young relationship, but I’m pretty crazy about her.” The
re was that blush again, and she caught the glint in his eye.
“Dad, really, I am happy for you. It makes me feel better about going home to New Orleans after Christmas. I really would like to be back before New Years Eve, and Kirby’s kind of counting on it. Don’t they say that you should be where you want to be when the clock strikes midnight?”
December 10, 2012
Kirby,
I got my ticket today for the train in a few weeks. Dad always knew I was heading back at some point, but we actually took some time over Thanksgiving holiday to talk about it. You’ll never guess—he’s started dating someone! All of those nights I thought he was just staying late at the office or the library he was spending with the dashing Virginia Lawrence!
I think Mike knows her; she’s a lecturer here and focuses on regional literature and folklore. She’s working on a book about Eudora Welty, I think. Some of the articles dad has been having me pull are actually for her, it turns out (which explains a lot, really, as I was wondering why Dad was suddenly so interested in Welty). Virginia’s pretty awesome, and yesterday when she got back into town from visiting her family for Thanksgiving, she came over for dinner. Not only was she sweet enough to not bat an eye at Alice and my attempts to make over the leftovers into a pot of soup, but she also wasn’t scared off by the many questions we asked her. I just think of how silly dad was not to tell me; they both seem quite smitten.
I’m sending in this package a signed copy of Alice’s book, as she insisted I do. She loves hearing Kirby stories and says that you have to take her out on the town once she lets herself have a few days off from signing and selling.
Love,
Liz
Chapter Six
Liz looked at her dad as they waited for the train. Elliott looked worried and a bit sad. “You know, Lizzie, I can drive you in.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze.
Brigitte's Cross (The Olivia Chronicles) Page 3