Chapter Eleven
Layla pulled into the parking lot of The Paradise. A familiar yellow Beetle sat two spaces down. So her new “assistant” had arrived. Layla sat for a full minute, contemplating a way out of this. Unfortunately, she couldn’t come up with one, so she had no choice but to get out of the car.
Elizabeth emerged from the vehicle, her expression blank. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Elizabeth.”
She grimaced. “I can understand you not wanting to call me mom, but could you at least call me Beth? Elizabeth makes me think of my mother scolding me.”
Layla didn’t answer for a moment and then she nodded. “Fine, Beth it is. We’re going to tell everyone I hired you to help out while Aunt Grace takes care of Gran,” she said by way of greeting. “I’d rather not have to explain who you are, though. Grayson knows. I told him last night. And Noah will probably figure it out since he seems to be able to read minds. But he won’t say anything, except to tell me that this is my opportunity to grow as a person or something else Zen-like. Chester’s eyesight isn’t great, so chances are he won’t notice any similarities between us. Just don’t get too close.”
A smile flickered across Beth’s drawn face. “Okay,” she said. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I’ll catch on quick.”
Layla shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered as she strode forward and heaved open the heavy door. A cool blast of air hit them in the face.
Beth let out an audible sigh of relief. “The place doesn’t look like much from the outside, but the air conditioner certainly works.”
“Greta doesn’t look like much on the inside either yet, but we’re working on that,” Layla said, leading Beth through the lobby.
“Greta?” Beth echoed.
“Greta Garbo. It’s what I call The Paradise. It’s because…well you’ll see why.”
They’d reached the lobby, and Layla stepped aside. Unexpected anxiety gripped her as she waited to hear Beth’s verdict. Beth took in the cavernous room, from the pillars that hadn’t yet been repainted to the poor tarnished Comedy/Tragedy masks, to the stark empty stage itself. The not-quite-finished paint job on the walls was starting to take effect, and the warm terra-cotta yellow gave the old theatre a new sheen of sophistication.
A soft grin lit up Beth’s face. “Greta suits her. I love that color,” she said, pointing to the section of newly painted wall.
Excitement nearly made Layla forget whom she was talking to. “You think? I compared a couple dozen different shades of yellow. I didn’t know there were so many shades of yellow. But this one said glamour, and it wasn’t so bright it hurt the eyes.”
“It’s perfect.”
The double doors to the back hallway swung open and Grayson walked in with Annaliese. She was laughing at something Grayson had just said. Of course. Annaliese laughed at everything Grayson said.
Layla stiffened, but she pasted on a teeth-baring smile. “Annaliese,” she said. “You’re still visiting? Or have you decided to stay and be in the show after all?”
“I’ve decided to stick around,” Annaliese answered. “I’m still not sure about being in the show, but I like the town and well—”
“Your old friend is here,” Layla prompted, glancing at Grayson.
Annaliese shifted on her feet. “Right.”
Grayson stepped forward, directing his attention toward Beth.
Which brought Layla right back around to the other thorn in her side. She gestured toward her mother. “This is my new assistant…” She trailed off and looked in Beth’s direction in a sudden panic.
Beth stepped into the gap. “Bess Parker.”
Layla jerked her chin up and down. “Right. Bess Parker. She’s going to be helping me out while Aunt Grace takes care of my grandmother,” she said in a rush, as if determined to get the story out before someone accused her of lying.
Grayson raised one eyebrow. “I know. You told me last night, remember?”
“Right. I did.” Layla cleared her throat. “Bess, this is Grayson Kendall, our director.”
Grayson studied Beth for a few more charged seconds and then held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Bess.”
Annaliese stepped forward, and Layla sighed. “And this is Annaliese Matheson, a friend of Grayson’s.”
Annaliese studied Beth with a bemused expression like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Layla jerked and steered Beth toward the double doors before Annaliese could ask any questions…or get a better look.
Layla leaned back against the wall, releasing a long, audible sigh of relief.
“That went well, don’t you think?” Beth asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “We really fooled them.”
Layla rolled her eyes.
“Just how friendly are Grayson and the red-head?” Beth asked, tilting her head in the direction they’d just come.
“Wouldn’t we all like to know?” Layla grumbled under her breath as she pushed away from the wall.
A little grin played about Beth’s lips.
Layla peered at Beth with suspicion. “What?”
“What what?”
“You’re smiling like you know a secret.”
Beth wiped any expression off her face. “Was I? Didn’t mean to. I’ll stop.”
Layla regarded her mother with another suspicious glare, but then her cell started ringing. She looked at the screen and smiled when she saw the name of the antique dealer in Ft. Myers that she’d been talking to.
She hit answer. “Stella, please tell me you have good news?”
“I do.”
“So you have my wall sconces?”
“Like I promised. They’re gorgeous. I know you’ll love them.”
“That’s great! I’ll drive over there today.”
She ended the call.
“Good news?” Beth asked.
Layla jumped. She’d almost forgotten Beth’s presence in the excitement. “I’ve been looking for antique wall sconces for the dining room. I found some on eBay, but I needed more. I tracked down a store in Ft. Myers, and she found enough to complete the set. I’m going to head over there now. It should only take a few hours.”
Beth seemed to deflate. “Oh…of course. You should leave now. Is there anything you want me to do while you’re gone?”
Layla paused. The outing was the perfect excuse to get away from Beth. Except the whole point of them working together was so they could figure out how to live with each other. Layla took a moment, pursed her lips and then squeezed her eyes shut. “You could come with me.”
“Okay.” Beth’s eyes lit up, and then uncertainty replaced her enthusiasm. “Are you sure? It won’t be too uncomfortable?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever feel comfortable again.”
They went out to Layla’s car. As Layla was backing out, she couldn’t help but notice that Beth was staring. Even when they pulled out onto the highway, Beth continued to direct her gaze toward Layla.
Layla started to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’re staring,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to,” Beth said. There was a moment’s pause, as if she was trying to figure out what to say. “I was admiring your hair.”
Layla’s hand went up to capture a loose tendril that had escaped the knot on top of her head. “Oh.”
“Makes me miss mine.”
A sudden, and very unwanted, flare of sympathy rose up in her. “Oh.”
Layla couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to lose her hair and her breasts. As much as she railed against the assumptions people made because of her looks, she didn’t know how she’d handle the kind of physical changes Beth had endured.
“Your hair is beautiful,” Beth said. “You must get that all the time, though.”
And…right back to the old hang-ups about people’s unwarranted judgments. Layla grimaced. “I guess.”
Beth must have sensed the ambivale
nce in the statement. “You don’t like it?”
“Sometimes my looks can be a problem. It can be hard for people to see beyond my hair and bra size.”
“I suppose you do get a lot of attention.”
Layla nodded. “Men see this—” She pointed to her head. “And these—” She waved a hand in front of her chest. “And think I’m easy. They want me on their arm to make themselves look better. Women tend to act like I’m the girl who stole their boyfriend in high school.”
“I used to get those looks, too.”
“Being a replica of you didn’t help when I was growing up,” Layla said.
Beth shifted in the seat. “Because people were waiting to see if you’d turn out like me.”
Layla didn’t deny the statement.
Silence invaded the car again. Layla swallowed and wondered if she shouldn’t turn around and take Beth back. There was no way they could spend the day together. Too much history, too much hurt.
“Tell me about your grandmother,” Beth said suddenly.
Layla grasped at the new topic, eager for anything to say. “Gran is the most amazing woman I’ve ever known,” she said. “What she accomplished in her life leaves me in awe.”
“You never found her intimidating?” Beth asked.
“No. Gran was the one who ensured that I concentrated more on my brain than my looks.”
Beth let out a sound that bordered on disgust, but before Layla could question the odd reaction, Beth took a deep breath. “I guess she did a good job of instilling that in you. You seem very accomplished. This car, your clothes – all point to success.”
Layla let out a harsh, bitter-sounding laugh. “This car and these clothes are all that’s left of my so-called success.”
“Why? What happened?”
The last thing Layla wanted to talk about with this woman was her failure. “You don’t really want to hear about my problems.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to hear about them?” Beth asked, turning toward Layla. “I want to know everything about you. Your hopes and dreams. Your disappointments. The things you love. What makes you smile. Your pet peeves. Besides, maybe I can help.”
“Help me?” Layla said in amazement. “You?”
“There is an advantage to having screwed up so many times,” Beth said in that dry, matter-of-fact tone. “I can tell others how to avoid my mistakes.”
Layla hesitated, but in the end what did it matter? If Beth stuck around, she’d find out the whole story eventually. “All right. I owned a business in Miami. A marketing consulting agency…and I lost it. Lost everything. The day I closed up for good, Gran called to tell me about The Paradise.”
“So you only recently moved back?”
Layla nodded. “A few weeks ago. I haven’t lived in Shellwater Key since I finished high school. I left for college and then got a job in Miami. I never really looked back.”
She hadn’t. Before losing LM Concepts, she would never have dreamed of returning to her hometown.
“I’m sure there were more opportunities in a big city than you could find in Shellwater Key,” Beth said.
Layla worried her lip between her teeth. “I thought I was meant for better things than this podunk town. I was going to be somebody important, and make people see me as more than a curvy blonde.”
“If you owned a business, you did succeed,” Beth said. “It takes a lot of guts to go out on your own.”
“Guts and a boss who kept trying to cop a feel in his office.”
Beth let out a knowing huff. “Boy do I know about that.”
Startled, Layla looked over.
Beth shrugged. “Men can be creeps, whether they’re in a bar or a boardroom.”
“He wasn’t the first,” Layla said. “But I made sure he was the last. I walked out and started LM Concepts. Never looked back.”
“And you loved it.”
A fist seemed to clamp around her throat, and she swallowed. “I did. I poured every ounce of my passion into that company.”
“What about a personal life? You’re a young, beautiful woman. Surely you had boyfriends. Didn’t you want a husband and kids?”
“I was too busy for that. As for a family, I never really thought about it.”
“How did you lose the business? Was it the economy? I know so many people who’ve lost their jobs.”
Anger welled up in her again as Layla thought about Melanie’s betrayal. “No, my own stupidity. My business partner took off with her boyfriend and all of our money.”
“I’m so sorry. You must have been devastated.”
“It was agonizing, but mostly because LM Concepts wasn’t just a job. My career has been my whole identity for so long. Losing my business was like having a part of me ripped away.”
There was a long silence and then a surprised exhalation from Beth’s side of the car. “Wow,” she said, almost to herself.
Layla looked out of the corner of her eye. “What?”
“It just occurred to me that maybe I’m not here just to make up for my past. That maybe I have more to offer you than an apology, and I can help with more than your theatre.”
“I told you, I don’t need any help. Especially not from you,” Layla said on a near growl.
If she was put off by the vehemence of Layla’s declaration, Beth didn’t show it. In fact, she chuckled. “It’s amazing how similar we are.”
A jolt of fury ripped through Layla. “I am nothing like you.”
She shook her head. “Oh honey, you have no idea. We’ve both spent our entire lives running from the past. Built up identities around the wrong things. Maybe the identities we created were different, but they had the same purpose.”
Layla wanted to explode. How dare this woman think they had anything in common? “What are you talking about?”
“I was beautiful once. Before the cancer came. Only I wasn’t as smart about it as you. I was proud of the way I looked. Too proud. I used my face and body to get what I wanted. Then it all disappeared, and I was left with a bald head and a padded bra.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Look, I’m not telling you this so you can feel sorry for me,” Beth said, leaning closer, her face earnest. “I don’t feel sorry for me. Not anymore, because now I think cancer was the best thing that ever happened to me. Seeing this face in the mirror every day reminds me that I used my beauty as a shield.”
“From what?”
“From all the people who thought they knew who and what I was.”
An icy finger ran down Layla’s spine. “So my entire professional career was just a ploy to stop people from seeing the real me? That was my shield?”
“What do you think? Did your business, and all that success, really make you happy?”
“Yes,” Layla said with an emphatic clip. She’d been fulfilled. She’d had a purpose.
Hadn’t she?
“I understand how hard it is to lose everything,” Beth said, reaching over to place her hand on Layla’s arm. “Believe me, I know all about that. But I also know that what comes after the devastation can be something even better than you imagined. I think maybe you’re already discovering it with The Paradise.”
Layla stared at the slim fingers against her skin. Beth drew in a quick breath and dropped her hand.
“I watched you today when we walked inside The Paradise,” Beth said. “I can tell it’s special to you. You’re so proud of that place. And when you talk about the theatre and what you want to do with it, you glow.”
Tremors raced up and down her body, and Layla tightened her hands around the steering wheel. How had a couple questions about her business led to a philosophical discussion about life? Who was Beth to think she could offer advice to anyone?
“Glow?” Layla chuckled, trying to regain control of the conversation. “No, I think what you see is pure panic…could you look at the directions I printed? I need to know which exit to take.”
Beth opened her mouth, perhaps
ready to argue her point, but she must have sensed Layla’s withdrawal.
Beth studied the paper in her hand. “We want Exit Twenty-One.”
A few minutes later, Layla angled the car off the highway.
“I’m not wrong, you know,” Beth said, without looking up.
Yes, she was, Layla thought. She had to be.
Chapter Twelve
When Barbara finally got home from the hospital, she found that a whole troop of volunteers had helped transform her downstairs study into a temporary bedroom. Barbara knew why the change made sense. Stairs would be impossible for a while, and being on the first floor would make it easier for everyone else to take care of her.
Take care of her…she shuddered at the thought.
Barbara McCarthy was always the one doing the caretaking. She wasn’t used to being weak and frail. She hated that it took her almost a full minute to get on her feet and that she had to clutch the bedpost to keep from falling over when she finally did stand up. She didn’t like being waited on or fussed over.
She didn’t like thinking about the fact that she had almost died before she got to see Elizabeth again.
Barbara couldn’t remember much about the day of her heart attack. She recalled Larry Conklin saying something about Beth. And then there was the dream. The one where Beth had come in the night.
Barbara heard footsteps in the hallway and a moment later, Grace appeared in the doorway with a tray. “Lunch is ready.”
Barbara sighed. There was something else she didn’t like. Having someone bring her a tray like she was an invalid. The fact that she was an invalid made her even more irritable.
Grace came in with the tray, seeming to float across the room on a cloud. Barbara always marveled at how her sister could move with such delicacy. Like she’d been picked up by a gentle breeze and deposited wherever she needed to go. Barbara tended to charge ahead like a bullet.
Grace placed the tray across Barbara’s legs and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’d feel a lot better if people would stop asking me that.”
Grace grinned. “Cranky,” she said, her eyes lit with humor. “That must mean you’re on the mend.” She paused and studied her sister’s face. “Unless something else is bothering you besides boredom. What is it?”
Left Turn at Paradise Page 14