“You might recall hearing that my mother basically abandoned me, too, but I was fortunate enough to end up here with my grandparents. Fortunate enough that they searched for me.”
“That’s something else we have in common,” Shallie told him, wondering if she was going too far. “Besides being brought to this town at a young age, going to the same school, growing up with relatives... Both our mothers disappearing from our lives.”
“True. And I know your situation was a lot harder than mine. Frankly, I’ve never been interested in looking for my mother.”
Shallie sighed. “I get it. But you probably learned more about her from your grandparents than I ever did about Christine. Plus, Bill and Mimi were a thousand percent better than Norm and Della. I certainly remember that!”
“I have a lot of faith in Eli and his connections. I’m sure you’ll learn something soon.”
Shallie smiled. “I keep hoping it won’t be bad news. Although at this point, I guess the only bad news would be no news.”
By then they’d reached Chief’s stall.
* * *
CARLY PULLED ON her brand-new jeans, courtesy of Tina and Cord, and another of Susan’s T-shirts, this one with a logo promoting The GateCrashers. She went to the trailer’s compact kitchen, where Mitch was just finishing his coffee.
Both he and Tina raved about her performance the previous night, praising her with extravagant descriptions. “So beautiful.”
“So emotional.”
“By far the best of the open mic singers.” They couldn’t seem to say enough good things.
Lowering her head, feeling embarrassed and yet pleased, she thanked them.
Tina even suggested Carly could probably work with Aaron at some point if she wanted; he’d been impressed, too. They’d talk to him about it, she said, with Mitch nodding enthusiastically. That offer was the last thing Carly had expected. She felt highly complimented—but she couldn’t possibly...
Ironic that she’d worn this T-shirt!
When Mitch had left and they’d eaten some scrambled eggs, Tina asked if Carly wanted to go “downtown.” They’d hit the drugstore, she said, maybe the magazine stand, the deli.
Carly felt reluctant, for more reasons than she wanted to explain, but she agreed, which had more to do with Tina’s kindness than anything else. Carly needed to show her gratitude and she could do that by acceding to Tina’s wishes. In the process, she could pick up some stuff she needed—nail polish remover and suntan lotion.
They drove to the small drugstore, halfway up Main Street. Was there a town anywhere in the country, Carly wondered, that didn’t have a Main Street? Once there, she said, “I have a few things I need to buy. See you in ten?”
“By the exit,” Tina agreed.
Carly selected the items on her list, plus some volume-enhancing conditioner and a new hairbrush. She was on her way to the cash register when—just as she’d feared—she saw two of the girls she’d seen last night at Bailey’s. They saw her, too, and started to approach, calling, “Hey, Charlotte! Carly?”
In a panic, Carly dropped her intended purchases on a random shelf, turned and race-walked out of the store. Great! She didn’t need them recognizing her, identifying her, asking questions or spreading gossip. She wasn’t ready to be revealed, and if it had to happen, she wanted to be in control. So she had to escape. Now.
She waved at Tina, standing in line at the cash, then ran to the car, parked half a block down Main. Luckily Tina had left it unlocked. Another small-town thing, she supposed. She slumped in the passenger seat. She had no idea whether those girls knew Tina, whether they’d ask what was going on and why she’d been so rude—and who was she, anyway? Worse, what if they mentioned My 3 Dads?
What could she say to Tina about taking off like that? What remotely plausible excuse could she offer. I had to go to the bathroom? I felt sick? I had to make a call?
Five minutes later, Tina returned to the car. She got in, making much work of putting away her purchases, storing her purse, buckling her seat belt, never looking at Carly. Finally, she turned to her. “What was that all about?”
Carly decided, for now, to go with the feeling-sick excuse. At some point soon, she’d tell the truth; she owed that to Tina, not to mention Cord and Shallie. “I felt...like I had to throw up.”
Tina’s expression instantly became sympathetic. “Oh, you poor thing! Are you feeling any better?”
“A little.” Actually she felt worse. Now she really did feel sick to her stomach, nauseated by her lie.
Yes, she wanted to tell the truth—would tell the truth. But how? When? Maybe she’d get Shallie’s advice.
* * *
AS THEY CAME back inside after another successful session, Shallie said, “Looks like Carly and Tina are still out. Why don’t I fix us sandwiches?”
“Thanks.” This wasn’t typical of his clients. But Shallie was more than a typical client. Not that he’d ever had a history with any of the others. “I’ll go check my calls while you do that.” In his study, Cord found a voice mail message from a potential new client and phoned back. “Mr. Lewis?” he said when a man answered. “It’s Cord Hollister.”
“I’m Leonard, but call me Len. As I mentioned, my wife and I are interested in doing one of your horse-training sessions.” He chuckled, and Cord liked the sound of his laugh. “I suppose that should be people-training sessions.”
“Some of both. I’d be happy to work with you. However, I have a current client who’s staying in the suite, so...”
“Not a problem,” Len assured him quickly. “My wife, Mary Jean, and I are recently retired and—as it happens—we have a nephew living in your town. We’ll be able to stay with him. It’s Ted Lewis, your fire chief, who’s also in a band called The GateCrashers.”
“Of course! And is that how you learned about my business?”
“Yep. And I should add that we’re considering getting involved with a therapy group, one that focuses primarily on kids.”
Cord heartily approved and they made arrangements for the older Lewises, from Missoula, to arrive next Monday.
Cord thought about this new situation and decided he’d ask Shallie to stay for an extra week, maybe two, at no charge, on the pretext of requesting her help with the Lewis sessions. Not that he didn’t believe she’d do an exemplary job; he knew she would. But he didn’t want her to leave. It was too soon to tell her that, though.
He’d come to realize that not only did he want her to stay, he wanted her to stay here, with him. The more he saw of her, the more he liked. There was so much he hadn’t recognized—or understood—in the past, and he hoped he could make up for that now.
* * *
SHALLIE HAD WAITED to begin eating her sandwich until Cord returned to the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, skimming a copy of The Atlantic she’d found on the coffee table. He joined her and took a bite of his ham-and-cheese, with its tomato and pickle garnish. “Mmm.”
She bit into hers—plain cheese—and smiled in response. The dogs crept out from under the table and, mouth full, Cord told them to settle. To her obvious amusement, they did, flopping down near the kitchen door.
Shallie told him about an article she’d read, outlining the history of dogs’ relationships with humans. “It goes back at least ten thousand years. And dogs chose us—at first for practical reasons, mainly food.”
“So they’re the smarter ones.”
“I’m sure Brynne would confirm that,” she said with a grin.
“Don’t get me started!”
“Well, when she’s right, she’s right.”
“She’d say so—and I think Eli would, too. You know,” Cord added, “J.P. and I have the impression that he’s...interested in her.”
“Good! I never knew Brynne well back then, and I’d like to know her better. But I love the idea of Eli bei
ng interested in her. He’s always been such a serious guy. And she seems smart, someone with real social skills. I could see them as a good match, and I hope she’s just as interested in him.”
“We’ll see. I hope so, too.” Her enthusiasm pleased him. Probably because it sounded like approval. Which was how he and J.P. felt. The relationship, if it was one, had only reached its very early stages. Nothing formal, nothing spoken, as far as he knew.
After that, they talked about Russ, speculated about Bethanne and recalled some incidents from what felt like the long-ago past. “Do you remember that time Reba decided to cut Russ’s hair?” she asked.
“Yeah, he wasn’t seen in public for weeks!”
“She ended up shaving one side of his head. He freaked out, then ran off.”
They both laughed. “Poor guy,” Cord said.
“Eventually, he went to the barber on Main, who at least evened it out, although then he looked totally bald rather than half-bald. I don’t think he ever forgave her. And you can imagine how Norm turned the whole thing into a big joke.”
“Poor guy,” Cord said again. “I mean Russ, not Norm!”
“I’m trying to remember what he called him. Razored Russ, that was it. Oh, and Shaved Schafer.”
“No wonder Russ isn’t exactly sociable.”
“Reba felt kind of bad,” Shallie said. “But not that bad.”
“Figures,” he muttered. “Do you want a coffee, a glass of wine, a beer?”
She accepted a wine, he served himself a beer and then leaned back in his chair. “I have a proposition for you.”
Shallie raised her eyebrows.
“Not that kind!”
“O-kay, then. So it’s the boring kind?”
He ignored that. “Here it is. I have some new clients coming in a week, and they’ll be staying at their nephew’s place in town. Ted Lewis—remember him? You met at Country Classics Night. He’s the bassist in Aaron’s band.”
She nodded. “Yeah, he’s a nice guy.”
“Well, the elder Lewises are newly retired and are interested in learning more about horses, maybe getting involved in therapy. I was hoping you could hang around for another week or two after this, free of charge, help me work with them. I figured your background with your friend’s business makes you a natural.”
Shallie smiled at him, a full, happy smile. “I’d love to!”
He grinned back. “Okay, then, we’ll see how it goes. I could pay you,” he added.
“No need. Besides, I’m getting room and board.”
“What about your flight? Can you change it?”
“Should be fine,” she said.
“And your rental car?”
“I’ll return it. Just have to work out the logistics.”
“Now, about our meeting tonight. I’d suggest you make a list of whatever you know. Whatever info you can give Eli and the investigator.”
“I’ll do it right now.” She’d been thinking about exactly that. She’d put together the little she could remember.
It occurred to her to call Russ. Because no one knew more about Christine Fletcher than he did. Even if that wasn’t much...
In her room, Shallie began making notes about her mother. After almost an hour, she’d filled half a page on her iPad. Once more, she thought about getting in touch with Russ—and decided to try.
To her considerable surprise, he answered. To her even greater surprise, he was friendly. Shallie gave him a succinct version of what she needed and why. “I have to get this sorted out, Russ. I need to know. It’s like...a hole in my life.”
“Yeah, I can understand how you’d feel that way.” He recalled that Christine had disappeared during the night, taken off in her car and was never heard from again. These were the few facts Shallie already knew. But he told her something she hadn’t heard before. “I’m pretty sure,” he said, “that it had to do with a call she got on the office phone that evening. From a Chicago area code.” He chuckled. “I’m embarrassed to admit I eavesdropped from the hallway.”
Shallie didn’t think he sounded embarrassed at all. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”
“For a long time you were too young and then... I kind of forgot.”
Not great as excuses went, but Shallie realized there was no point in belaboring it.
“Anyway,” he continued, “back to that phone call. Christine didn’t say much. Then she suddenly rushed out, back to Room 2, and I barely had time to hide. I went in to check the phone number and even dialed it several times, that night and the next day. No one ever answered—so I deleted the number. I just thought having it on our phone might lead to...some kind of problem. And I was pretty sure my parents wouldn’t want to know about it.”
* * *
SHE WAS ABOUT to thank him and hang up when he suggested they get together sometime soon. His stammer and the invitation itself told her how lonely he was. How uncertain that she’d agree. She said yes, they’d arrange something soon, she’d be in touch. Shallie felt grateful to him for the information—and appreciated that he was making an effort to be friendly, to be useful, to create a bond. Their unpleasant past no longer worried her; they’d both changed, were still changing. She knew she was. And this new openness on his part clearly indicated that he was, too.
* * *
SHE ADDED THE new information to her list, then hurried downstairs and asked Cord if he’d mind printing off her notes. She also told him about Russ and his interest in seeing her. “Good plan,” he said. “There’s a lot more you could end up learning. Plus, the guy could use a friend.”
Then they went out for the next phase of that day’s work. He planned to teach her how to teach, considering that she’d be dealing with his new clients.
CHAPTER NINE
LATE THAT AFTERNOON, back in her suite, half reading, half dozing, Shallie was startled by a knock on her door. Carly opened it an inch or two and peered in. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you?”
“Of course!”
As Carly entered, Shallie moved to the edge of the bed, where they sat side by side. Carly’s voice was shaky. “You’ve probably guessed that I haven’t been telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but...”
Shallie wanted to tread carefully through this uncertain territory. “Go on.”
“You might’ve noticed that those people at the country music night—the ones in that booth near the back—knew something about me.”
“I wondered.” Shallie purposely didn’t make any comment or ask any leading questions.
Carly then launched into what turned out to be a lengthy and fairly complicated story. About her YouTube channel, My 3 Dads, and how it included performances and updates, the money she’d earned, the fact that her YouTube name was, in fact, her real one, Charlotte. She described the ongoing announcements she made in her videos—and Shallie immediately clued in.
So this was why Carly had avoided DNA testing, avoided even bringing it up with her “3 Dads”—or one reason, anyway. The longer she put it off, the longer her lucrative performances could continue. Shallie hadn’t discussed the necessity of the tests with Carly yet, but knew the girl had to be well aware of it.
“Was the YouTube thing mostly about the money?”
“Partly. I had nothing. And this turned out to be a way of supporting myself. And—” she shrugged “—I found out I’m good at this stuff. I’ve been singing. I get the music on YouTube and sing a lot of country-western. And I like doing it.”
“I can tell,” Shallie said. “And you have the talent.”
Carly reached over to clasp her hand for a moment. “You’re the only one I’ve told.”
“The crappy clothes?” Shallie asked. “They were all part of the...act? So you had money but you didn’t want to spend it on clothes or transportation or—”
“Yes.”
She took a loud breath.
“I’m guessing the Emmylou Harris song you did at Bailey’s the other night you sang on one of your videos.”
“Yes.” Another breath. “Two of the girls who were there recognized me at the drugstore this morning. They tried to talk to me.”
“What happened?”
She spoke quickly. “I ran back to the car. And I lied to Tina. Again. I have to tell her the truth soon, but I’m not sure what to say. Also I want Tina and Cord and all of you to know how grateful I am. I’m not sure what to say to Cord, either. Or the other two guys.”
Shallie said, “Okay, I understand. What do you need me to do?”
“Be my friend, I guess. And my...adviser.”
Shallie remembered what Emma had said in their recent phone call, how they’d talked about her ability to provide what Carly needed—support and friendship. Neither of which she’d received herself until after she’d left home. Except, to a limited degree, from Reba.
“I’ll do what I can on the adviser front. I already consider us friends, and not just because of your mom.”
“Will you go with me to tell Tina—and Cord?”
“Definitely.” Shallie wasn’t looking forward to that, but she was willing to do it.
More than willing; she considered it an obligation, although how and when they did that had yet to be decided. She got out Cord’s list of questions, since this was the opportune time, and quickly went through them—which didn’t seem to be a problem for Carly.
She glanced at her cell phone. “Listen, I have to go. Cord and I are meeting Eli at Bailey’s in a little while. I’ll tell you more later—and maybe you can give me some advice, too.”
“Thank you,” Carly whispered. “I’m so glad we met, so glad you knew my mom, so glad I can trust you. Shallie, I love you.”
Shallie felt tears gather as she hugged the girl. “I love you, too. And you’re right. You can trust me.”
Country Strong--A Novel Page 13
