As they walked along, it occurred to him that he felt as dead inside as the winter gardens that hadnt known a human touch in years. He didnt much care as long as he could hide his feelings from everyone. Like an actor, hed played the same role so many times that the words no longer made sense.
He couldnt talk about his thoughts, his feelings. Couldnt tell people how much he still missed his wife. Every day. Every minute. It didnt matter. Years had passed since hed kissed Amy goodbye. All he had to do was stop breathing. Just dont take another breath, and hed be with her.
But he couldnt leave Logan. She wouldnt want him to. So hed go on walking, smiling, pretending, until Logan grew up, and one day he might get lucky and forget to breathe.
As the sisters talked of winter roses, Micah closed his eyes and thought of Amy.
Three
Straighten up, Lora. You look round-shouldered. I swear youve a models form when you hold your head up, but when you slouch, all I see is Lurch from The Addams Family, Isadore whined. And hurry up or youll be late for the committee meeting.
Lora Whitman pretended not to hear her mother and wondered if she could special order an ejection seat for the passenger side of her next Audi. Sometime during college, shed become an Olympian at ignoring Isadore Whitman. Before Lora had hit puberty, her mother had thought her ideal, dressing her up like a doll and bragging to her bridge club about the perfection of her only child.
Then the awkward years had hit and perfection had slipped, never to be reclaimed, no matter how hard Lora had tried to please. Even the night she had been named homecoming queen, Isadore had leaned to hug her daughter and had reminded her how bad her nails looked. While any other mother might have been proud, Isadore had whispered another comment about how fat Lora looked in taffeta.
Lora honked as Old Man Hamm rolled through the towns only stoplight in his rust bucket of a car. For a moment, she visualized him hitting the passenger side of her Audi, sending Isadore into terminal silence. As always, Lora colored her daydream with detail. Blood the same shade as her mothers lipstick. The volunteer firemen trying to pull Isadore out without damaging her Escada suit.
Lora steered left toward the eyesore of a house at the end of Main. Her mother continued to rattle. The plans for what shed wear to her mothers funeral faded as Isadore began her list of what Lora should do at the meeting. Her mother seemed to believe that if Lora left her sight without instructions she mighteven though she was twenty-four years oldwander off the face of the earth.
I know you think this committee appointment isnt important, Isadore stated as if she had an audience. But youll see. One thing will lead to another. You can help decide what to do with the old Altman house. The next thing you know, youll be moved to some important board seat. Why, in ten years you could be on the town council.
The only goal Lora had was to accumulate enough money to get out of this place. She could see no way that serving on a civic committee would help her accomplish that. But in the six months she had been back handling advertising for her fathers car dealership, shed learned one thing. If she didnt play the game, she had no chance of breaking free. Her father held as tightly to his money as her mother wanted to hold to her.
Dont park in the dirt. Isadore waved her hand, shooing the car as she might an animal. Theres probably mud.
Lora stopped in the center of the street and threw her silver Audi into Park. You think you can drive my car home? She opened the drivers side door with doubts about her mothers ability to handle anything other than a Cadillac. Loras ex had told her shed picked the car just to anger her father, but in truth, Lora loved the feel of it.
Isadore tried not to look as if she were hurrying when she circled the car and took Loras place. Of course I can drive this thing, but dont you want me to pick you up? Im just having my nails done. I could be back in an hour, provided the girl does the job right. Last time I told her I wanted a French manicure in another color. I swear she looked at me like
No. The last thing Lora wanted was to stand around like a schoolgirl waiting for her mother to pick her up. Ill walk over to the dealership and ride home with Dad.
She heard her mothers but as she closed the door. With Isadore, there was never an end to conversation, only abrupt halts.
It frightened Lora to think she might end up like her mother, constantly harping on something of no importance. Before the divorce, when Dan wanted to really land a blow, hed mention how much she sounded like her mother.
With determined steps, Lora forced herself not to run as she heard the sound of the window being lowered. At five foot ten, her long legs carried her swiftly to the porch and out of reach of her mothers final instructions. Her high heels clicked across the wood as she squared her shoulders and resigned herself to get this duty over with as quickly as possible.
Loras car still sat in the middle of the street as she opened the door to the old Altman house and hurried inside.
Air, cold and stale, closed around her. A wisp, thick as a sigh, rushed past. Escaping. She had the feeling shed be wise to do so, as well. This place, or more accurately the grounds behind the house, held nothing but bad memories for her. Shed just as soon turn her vote in now to demolish the landmark. Anything, even a vacant lot, would be better than having this old mansion shadow Main.
Lora blinked, trying to adjust to the filtered light shining through dirty windows. Dark paneling, rotted in spots. Dusty floors. Silence. She fought the urge to turn and run but remembered her mother probably still waited outside and decided even a haunted house would be preferable company.
The floor creaked when she stepped into a wide hallway with doors on either side. Stairs rose from the back wall of the entry. Huge bookshelves, too large for vandals to steal, lined the corridor as if guarding long-forgotten secrets. A surprising dignity reflected in the rooms architecture, like an old soldier still standing proud in the uniform of his youth.
Lora forced another step, telling herself shed already lived through hell being married to Dan for three years. What else could happen to her? Hed taken everything except her car, and he would have gotten that, too, if it hadnt been in her fathers name. Dan had made it necessary for her to quit her job without references. Hed fought until shed had no option but to do what he knew she hated mostto return home. Hed learned, in the law school shed worked to send him to, how to cut deep and once he was set up in a practice, hed cut her out of his life.
Straightening, Lora smiled. She might be down but she was a long way from out. What could one houseful of old stories do to her? She wasnt some frightened fifteen-year-old. She was a battled-scarred divorcée.
At slumber parties when shed been small, girls had told stories of how old Rosa Lee would kill any man who set foot on her property and cut him up so she could dribble his blood over her roses. In Loras current state of mind, she didnt consider Rosa Lees actions all that terrible.
Hey, lady, a low male voice echoed through the passage. This the place for the committee meeting?
Lora fought down nerves as she spotted a kid, maybe late teens, leaning against the banister. Half his body stood in shadow, but nothing about the half she saw looked good. Dirty jeans, worn leather jacket, hair in his eyes.
Hey, lady, a low male voice echoed through the passage. This the place for the committee meeting?
Lora fought down nerves as she spotted a kid, maybe late teens, leaning against the banister. Half his body stood in shadow, but nothing about the half she saw looked good. Dirty jeans, worn leather jacket, hair in his eyes.
It is, she answered. Why? She thought of adding, Shouldnt you be out robbing some quickie mart? but held her tongue.
He shifted, stepping more into the light. The chain that held his wallet in place clanked against the rivets running along the seam of his jeans.
Lora held her ground. He was a few years older than shed thought, a little more frightening. A three-day growth of beard darkened his chin. Angry gray eyes watched her, studying, judging, undressing her. If shed been in Dallas, she would have reached for her Mace. But Clifton Creek didnt have muggers, she reminded herself.
Im on the committee. He turned, showing more interest in the house than in her. His hands spread wide over the paneling and caressed the grooves in the wood. Ive always wondered what it would be like inside here. One of the guys I spent a weekend in the drunk tank with says his grandfather told him they sent all the way to Saint Louis for the carpenters on this place. Had to bring most of the wood out on wagons.
Lora forced her heart to slow. So much for her mothers idea of it being an honor to be on one of the mayors committees. They appeared to be emptying the jails in order to fill the chairs.
Im on the committee, too, she said needlessly. No one would be in this old place at ten in the morning unless theyd been asked to serve. Im Lora Whitman.
I know who you are. He moved a scarred hand over the top of one of the massive hutches, dusting away layers of dirt. Ive seen you around. He didnt look up as he spoke. You came back after your husband took you for a ride.
Lora shrugged, not surprised even the towns under-belly knew of her troubles. Keeping up with everyone was more popular than sports in this place. But she did resent his comment that made her sound as if she had been no more than a horse Dan had saddled up one day and then turned out to starve when he had gotten where he wanted to go. Which, in retrospect, was accurate.
She straightened, leveling the kid with her gaze. Thats right. He took me for everything, and I had to come back here to work for my father. She had no idea why she was telling this thug her life story. Maybe she just wanted to get the gossip straight for a change. I was on my way to being an advertising executive with one of Dallass big five, and now Im fighting to keep the salesmen from putting their kids in every commercial we shoot at the car lot.
The youth surprised her by saying, Well, at least you got an old man to run home to. And dont knock those ads. Some folks like seeing the kids. I remember seeing you in a few of your daddys ads when you were little.
She studied him more closely. Do I know you?
Billy Hatcher. Thankfully, he didnt offer his hand. I was in middle school when you were a cheerleader your senior year. I liked to watch you jump.
Lora fought the urge to slap him. She tried to picture him as a half-grown boy watching her but had no memory of him. I dont jump anymore, she snapped.
Too bad.
He grinned, and she controlled the longing to slug him this time. Much more conversation and shed be a killer by noon. Great! she mumbled, Im on a committee with a sex-starved bully. This might prove no different from her marriage.
Hello?
They both turned as a middle-aged woman wearing what looked like a Navajo blanket stepped through the door. Are you both here for the meeting?
Billy shrugged, but Lora offered her hand. Yes, she said, thankful to have someone, anyone, else in the room. Im Lora Whitman.
The womans smile lit her makeup-free face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement behind thick glasses. Im Sidney Dickerson, history professor from the college. Isnt this the most exciting thing in the world? She pulled off the poncho and tossed it over the banister. I couldnt sleep last night thinking about the adventure were embarking upon.
Lora caught Billy Hatchers gaze and realized they had something in common after all. Neither of them agreed with the professor.
As Sidney moved into what appeared to have been the dining room to set up, three more people entered. Lora knew the Rogers sisters and greeted them warmly. They spoke to her as if she were still their student in grade school. Between the two sisters, shed bet they knew everyone in town. There hadnt been a wedding or a funeral in forty years the old maids hadnt attended. She wasnt surprised when Miss Ada May Rogers took over the introductions.
Lora, dear, do you know the new Methodist minister? Ada May motioned with her hand for him to move closer. This is Reverend Parker.
Lora nodded, knowing anyone not born in Clifton Creek might be referred to as new. The minister had sandy-blond hair and a lean body beneath his slightly wrinkled suit. Shed guess him ten years older than she, but the sadness in his eyes made him seem ancient. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered hearing he was a widower with a small kid to raise.
Micah Parker offered his hand, reminding her theyd met before at the Labor Day pancake breakfast. Then, to her surprise, he greeted Billy Hatcher warmly before Ada May finished the introductions.
Billy smiled and slapped the preachers shoulder as Parker complimented the kid on some work hed done at the church.
Lora tried not to appear to be listening to the men as Ada May chatted with the professor. Glancing at the ceiling, Lora searched for cracks. It would be just her luck that the first day in years someone walked into the house the roof would collapse. The whole town would probably turn out to dig through the rubble for bodies. First, theyd uncover her hand (the one without a wedding band on it) or maybe one leg, all dusty and bloody. One of the Rogers sisters might survive. Of course she would die soon after of loneliness. The town might erect a statue on this very spot to honor the civic-minded heroes willing to serve and die on a committee.
Are you all right, dear? Ada May pulled Lora back to reality.
Yes, she mumbled. I was just thinking how my clothes are going to get dirty in this old place.
Thats my fault, Dr. Dickerson confessed from the doorway of the room shed entered. I only wanted the door unlocked, the boards removed from the windows and little else disturbed. She motioned with her notebook. Please, would everyone step into the dining room. I did have folding chairs and a table brought in and set up near the bay window so wed have plenty of light. If were going to decide the fate of this house today, its only fitting we do it on the property.
Everyone followed Sidney Dickersons lead. As Billy Hatcher passed Lora, he whispered, Take off your clothes and leave them at the door if youre so worried about the dirt.
Lora flashed him her best drop dead look and rushed ahead. This was going to be a fine committee, she thought. Two old maids, a preacher, a sex-starved thug and a professor. And me, she thought, the total failure.
There were definitely levels in hell, even in Clifton Creek.