Miranda rolled her eyes. “Great. More trouble. Mom, could you try sometime just being a normal mother? Maybe give the PTA a chance?”
I finished my side of the lasagna. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Of course, I’d have to take down your guard-railing because normal mothers don’t let their teenage daughters go climbing around on the roof during the middle of the night.”
“No! Anything but that!” She sobered. “Are we really in danger?”
What was I going to tell her? That everybody associated with the dragon had died in bizarre accidents and murders? I couldn’t scare her like that, and yet I needed the kids to be careful. “Yeah, it looks that way. Watch your step the next couple weeks, okay?”
Randa raised her eyebrow and licked her fork. “Be sure to warn Kip. He’s pretty careless. Have you had a chance to look through the material I gave you?”
Material? Oh yeah, the school information. “No, but I’ll do it right now while you head up to bed.” I gave her a quick kiss before she raced upstairs, then settled myself at my desk and sifted through the information she’d gathered. Straightforward and clear, the pamphlets and handouts presented both pros and cons of letting a child skip grades.
I knew why Miranda wanted this. Her schoolwork was a joke; she got A’s in her sleep for most of her classes. And yet… to move her ahead, to stick her in with kids years older than she was. What would it do to her? I pushed the papers away. Who was I to hold her back? My daughter wanted a life that wasn’t ordinary, and I owed her the opportunity. She was brilliant; she’d go far. I pushed myself away from my desk and stood, stretching so hard my back popped. Happy I’d made a decision on something at last, I was about to head for bed when the phone rang.
Chapter 11
“EM, WHAT HAPPENED? What’s wrong?” Murray’s voice rang out over the line.
“Thank heavens you called back. You would not believe what I found out about the dragon and Daniel’s family.” I spilled out everything that Harl and I’d discovered in our quest for information.
Murray paused. When she did speak, her voice was curt, and I knew something was wrong. “Em, I thought you were in trouble, but you’re obviously fine. I can’t really talk right now. Why don’t you call me tomorrow?”
Feeling guilty, I settled myself on the sofa. I hadn’t meant to upset her. “I’m sorry. Is everything okay?”
“It’s just been a hard day.” She hesitated, then added, “White Deer and I had an argument. She went out for a walk, and I want to unwind before she gets home.”
Argument? They never argued, as far as I knew. “You’ve got to be kidding! You told me you two never fight. What’s up?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake, and I was right. The temperature in her voice went from chilly to freezer burn in a matter of seconds.
“If I wanted to talk about it, I would have called you.” Murray seldom got angry, but when she did, she blew in a big way. “As it is, you’re the one who called me. Again. Damn it, Emerald, do I phone you every time something goes wrong? Do I ask your advice on every little thing in my life? No, but you butt in anyway. Can’t you be a little more supportive of my choices, even when that choice doesn’t include following your advice? If you’re not bitching about your problems, you’re bitching about what you think I’m doing wrong. Give me a little peace, okay, and just back off?”
I stared at the phone, shocked speechless. What the hell was going on? I tried to smooth things over. “Murray, I’m sorry I bothered you. You are the one who suggested doing more research. When Harlow and I came up with all that wild stuff, I thought you might want to know about it, but obviously I was wrong.”
She pounced on me like a tiger. “Couldn’t it have waited until tomorrow? It’s not like it’s an emergency.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to remain calm. “I suppose to me, this is an emergency. My family’s in danger. But hey, I won’t let it happen again.”
The Murray I knew returned for a moment, but just for a moment. “I’m not trying to discount what’s happening to you, but Em, you always call me when you need something. Jeez, even when I’m off work, I’m always on call for you.” Once again, her voice rose. “Sometimes I need time for myself, okay? Sometimes I need to be more than a cop or a shaman. Is that too much to ask of my best friend?”
Unsure just how to fix things, I shut my mouth and waited.
After a moment of silence, Murray said, “Oh, God.” Her words came tumbling out, tripping over themselves as she rushed to mend the tattered conversation. “Emerald, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off on you like that. I’ve just been under so much stress.”
I knew she meant it, but there was no going back. What was said, was said. And to be honest, she was right. I’d been too caught up in my own worries to realize just how upset she was. She had enough trouble on her own plate, without me adding to the menu.
“Don’t try to explain,” I said. The words came out a little too sharply but it was either that or bawl like a baby, and that would only make both of us feel like idiots. “You’re absolutely right, and I apologize. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Damn it,” she said. “Now I feel like a heel.”
Before things could get any worse, I said, “Anna, I’m glad you called me on my behavior. Get in touch when you can. Take it easy, okay?” I eased the receiver back onto the cradle and headed for the downstairs bathroom. If I didn’t find the antacids, and soon, I’d be up all night with the burgeoning ulcer I suspected was growing somewhere between my breastbone and my stomach.
Damn it. I hated arguing with friends, hated bickering in general. It always reminded me of the endless bouts with Roy and how I spent so many of our years together in tears.
Best buddies, Murray and I’d been there for each other through everything: Roy’s betrayal, Murray getting her first job as a cop, ghosts and mayhem and family troubles on both sides. If it wasn’t for Murray, I’d never have thought to settle in Chiqetaw. And now she was having problems with her job and her aunt and apparently, I’d trampled over her needs.
I numbly forced myself over to the computer and turned it off. As I started to trudge upstairs, the doorbell rang. Oh God, what now? Please don’t let it be anybody who needed me to be even halfway coherent. I flipped on the porch light and peeked through the peephole. Andrew! Standing on my porch, a bouquet of yellow roses in hand!
“Andrew!” All thoughts of our bickering on the phone flew right out the window, and I leapt into his arms. He clumsily embraced me, trying to keep the flowers from getting squashed. “You’re home! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come back for another week or so. Why didn’t you call me? I would have met you at the airport.” The words flooded out as I realized how much I’d missed him.
He kissed me on the nose, then walked me into the living room and pressed the bouquet in my arms. I noticed he was wearing a new leather jacket, brown with suede patches on the elbows. In fact, his whole outfit was new; his jeans looked fashionably worn, but I knew what he had in his closet, and these were definitely a recent addition. He wore a silk shirt, the first three buttons opened to show a thin gold chain, and his ponytail was slicked back with some sort of mousse. There was something different about him, a spark in his eye that I didn’t remember.
“Slow down a minute, Em. I’m just in town to get some files I forgot. I got in this evening, and I have to be at the airport tomorrow at ten in the morning.” He stood awkwardly in the living room, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to sit down.
“You have to leave again?” Disappointed, I asked, “How long are you going to be gone this time?”
He gave a little shrug. “They want me to write the screenplay—”
“Wonderful—” I started to say, but he held up his hand.
“Let me finish, Em. I’ll be gone at least three months. Maybe more.” He seemed to be trying very hard to be nonchalant. I c
ouldn’t put a handle on what was wrong, but something felt off.
“Three months,” I said slowly. “That’s a long time. Will you be able to come back for visits?” If he would only sit down. I wanted him to sit down and hold out his arm for me to go snuggle into, but he just stood near the sofa.
“Maybe, but I can’t promise anything. It’s a fast-paced world down there. Got to stay on top of things, keep my fingers in the pie. There are a lot of advantages, though. No driving over two hours just to find a decent store or restaurant. Sunshine every day. And, I met Zia Danes.”
Zia Danes was one of the new crop of rising young starlets. She was too skinny and too blonde, and I didn’t like the way he said her name. I studied my fingernails and edged myself primly onto the sofa, not feeling secure enough to relax. “I didn’t know we didn’t have any good restaurants or stores up here. Guess I’m out of the loop. So, you really like it there?”
He shifted. “I think so. Yes, I do.”
Exhausted from the turmoil of the day, tired of pussy-footing around, I decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. “Are you mad at me?”
He cleared his throat. “Mad? No, Em, not at all. It’s just that, well… how do I say this?”
I stared at him, feeling a chill spread across my heart. “Why don’t you just come out and say it? That’s usually best, right?” Oh hell, I thought. Not another blow. Please let it be something easy, something stupid that doesn’t matter.
He studied my face. “Yeah, you’re right. I owe you the truth, and you deserve it without me trying to pretty it up.” He spilled out his news quickly, not giving me a chance to interrupt. “Zia’s going to star in the movie. We’ve been working together since I got there, trying to develop her character. Em, we really hit it off and… well… she wants me to move into her place when I go back. We’ve been sleeping together since the day we met.”
A wave of shame flooded through me as my face flushed. I turned away, pressing my lips together as I fought against the rising anger and humiliation. I didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare look at him.
“I don’t know how it happened,” he continued, oblivious to my pain. “We just ignite each other like dynamite. We were sitting on the sofa one minute, talking about the story line, and the next—she was in my arms and I was ripping off her dress—”
“Stop!” My voice hovered in the room like a feather drifting on the wind. “I don’t care how it happened. I don’t care why it happened. I don’t want to know the details.” He leaned in as if he were going to take me in his arms. I held up my hand. “You’d better leave. You have a plane to catch tomorrow.”
“Em, please, don’t leave it like this. I never meant to hurt you.”
Furious, I turned on him. “Liar. You don’t give a damn about me, or you wouldn’t have done it. You took less than two weeks to decide you wanted somebody else. Let me tell you this: I’ve had a lot of chances to sleep with Joe over the past few months, but never once have I crossed the line, because I respected our relationship. So don’t give me that bullshit.” Even though I’d fought this battle before, with Roy, I’d still been taken by surprise. So much for being psychic, I thought.
Andrew shuffled. “I just want you to understand. I don’t want you to hold a grudge.”
I looked up at him, and my radar clicked. “You just don’t want me throwing a hex your way. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid of me?” He paled, and I knew I was right. “You really think that little of me? Thanks a lot.”
He stammered. “I… I… didn’t mean…”
I stopped him with an upraised hand. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t bother. You’re not worth the karma it would cost me. I have no interest in wasting my time and energy on you.”
“Don’t talk like that. We had something special together, please don’t be so upset. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I really didn’t.” He was pleading now, and I sensed that he really believed what he was saying, even though it reeked of denial.
I forced myself to stand, shoulders straight, and said in a dignified voice, “Apparently what we had wasn’t special enough. If you need a starlet to make you happy, then I’m not going to stand in your way. I’m not going to beg, or plead, or anything else you might have been expecting. I learned the hard way that my dignity and self-respect are worth more than any man.” I opened the door. “Good-bye Andrew.”
He hesitantly stepped toward the outside. “You don’t really need me, you know. Your life centers around your kids. I don’t think you have any right to bitch since you’ve been too busy to pay me the attention I need.”
What? I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re using the fact that I care about my children to justify cheating behind my back?” Then, I stopped. He’d never get it. “No wonder you don’t want to get married. You’re just a spoiled brat in a man’s body, and you can’t handle reality. Well fine. While you were screwing Zia’s brains out, I’ve been battling for my family’s life. I think that’s more important for me to focus on. Now, get your ass out of here.”
As he passed by, I stepped aside. His car pulled out of the driveway, and I waited until the taillights disappeared, then took the bouquet of roses out to the backyard, where I tore the petals off, breaking one stem at a time. I dumped the whole mess in the trash can. Then, acting on autopilot, I returned to the house, locked the door, and forced myself upstairs where I fell into bed, too numb to even cry. The tears could wait until tomorrow.
COME MORNING, I was ready for a long, hot shower. Andrew’s visit seemed like a nightmare. I could almost make myself believe that it had been a bad dream except the ache in my heart told me it had been all too real. But as I toweled off, I decided I meant what I’d told him: I couldn’t afford to waste any energy on him. I knew we weren’t a match made in heaven; last night had just confirmed it. Sure, my ego had taken a few bruises, but Andrew hadn’t hurt me the way Roy had. I flipped through my closet and decided on a beige linen dress and my brown heels. Maybe if I looked professional, I could act the part and get through the day with as little distraction as possible.
I hauled out Nanna’s trunk. Everything except a few odds and ends had remained intact when I gathered it up after the burglary, and I’d repaired the broken hinge without too much trouble. Luckily, the trunk itself was made of ironwood, and it would take a sledgehammer to dent that surface.
Dear Nanna. She’d taught me her folk magic, she’d taught me about my past and my roots, and she never let me forget that my mother’s people were as old as the hills of Europe, as old as the Norsemen who worshiped Odin and Thor. Though she left some of her customs behind, she’d brought along her trunk when she came to the States, filled with charms and spells and bottles of incense and amulets. When she died, she willed the trunk to me, as keeper of the family heritage. I hoped that I was doing a decent job of it, though right now I questioned my judgment about a lot of things.
I hoisted out the heavy, leather-bound journal she’d kept, then closed and locked the lid. The writing was a mixture of German and English. I’d managed to learn enough German to translate most everything in the book, but I was cautious on the things I wasn’t so sure about. I was all too familiar with the results of charms that backfired.
Tucking the journal into my tote bag, I got the kids off to school and headed out for the shop. I didn’t mention Andrew’s visit; no sense getting them upset before school. There’d be time enough later on; I’d just tell them that we’d disagreed too much and that we broke up. No sense showering them with the seedy details.
Cinnamon had arrived early. I set her to work on posters for the renovation sale that we’d use to let folks know we were back on track. She had beautiful handwriting with a real artistic touch; within an hour, she’d created some lovely signs. I admired the sketches of teapots and steaming cups of tea. “Very nice. We should be receiving some shipments today, so we’ll spend the day uncrating merchandise, drawing up new ledgers and inventory logs,
and shelving whatever stock shows up in the mail.”
Before I got started, I retreated to my office to call Harlow. My first thought had been to call Murray, but after our fight, I didn’t think I could handle another rebuff. Lost my boyfriend and my best friend in one fell swoop. Yep, good going, Emerald. The latter hurt far more than the former.
Harl answered, and I spilled what had happened with Andrew into her waiting ear. She was agreeably outraged, and her anger made me feel better, especially since I didn’t have the energy to throw a tantrum myself. Maybe I could manage a little wail, if pressed, but even that seemed overwhelming.
“I can’t believe he did that to you! You were right when you told me you weren’t sure about him. I’m so sorry. I was the one who introduced you guys.” Her voice spired, fueled by pregnancy hormones and guilt. “I feel so awful, and you know James is going to hear about this. Andrew’s on my shit list.”
Oops, she was angrier than I thought. I should have known she’d take it personally, and I knew that Andrew’s reputation would be dead meat if Harl got mad enough. I was furious, but not enough to ruin his life, which Harl could do with a few well-placed calls. “No, please. I really don’t have the energy to retaliate. Just don’t invite the two of us to the same gig, okay? Though, with his new life down in Hollywood, I doubt if he’ll be spending much time up here for the next few months.” New life, new woman, I thought. Can’t wear old clothes to a blue-blood party, right?
“That idiot has no idea what kind of life he’s getting into. I’ve been there. They’ll eat him alive and spit out the bones, and when they’re done, I can guarantee Zia Danes isn’t going to stick around to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again. I know her type; they never change.” Harl’s voice was edgy; I knew her days as a supermodel still haunted her.