“Feel free to find yourself and make peace with your past while you’re here, Ms. Granger,” Karen said, “but don’t tear down my people in the process. They never asked for anything but to be left alone.”
Dahlia opened her mouth as if to say something else. Except nothing but cold, stunned silence fell from her lips.
“As for me,” Karen said, unable to stand the silence, “I am willing to talk about almost anything. My life is very much an open book. I have no secrets. Much to the detriment of my children. My grown, well-adjusted children who are as happy as two surly teenagers can be.” Xander wouldn’t love to be lumped into the “teenager” bracket now that he was a strong and sturdy twenty, but Karen also knew he’d appreciate the sentiment. Because he was well-adjusted like that. “But I won’t talk about them unless you have an open mind. I can’t speak for your mother or what she was going through in her life. Nor can I relate to the desire to leave your own children behind, but I’m sure she had her complicated reasons. Reasons you’ll only be able to begin to understand if you ask us questions in good faith.”
She expected Dahlia to go on the defensive once more. Instead, the filmmaker opened the door to the mayor’s office and stepped out without a word.
Two minutes later, Wayne and Kurt came in to dismantle their equipment. Although they shared looks with Karen, who now settled back behind her desk, they didn’t offer any explanations. She didn’t expect them to, nor would they volunteer that their boss was too pissed to continue.
It wasn’t until everyone left and Karen was left to the silence of her office that she realized she had probably pushed Dahlia too far. What have I done? She stared at the back of her hands. It beat staring at her frosted glass window, hoping Dahlia would return and apologize.
Perhaps it was for the best. Karen had some of her own biases clouding her judgment.
Chapter 12
DAHLIA
Could things get any worse?
That’s what Dahlia stewed over as she holed herself up in Waterlily House. She sent Wayne and Kurt out to finish some filming odds and ends, but she was quickly reaching the turning point where she had to choose the final direction of this documentary. She needed more content. More interviews. A proper narrative. A deciding factor that would cement this currently untitled saga as a consideration for many distributors.
Except I have no idea what to do. I’m too pissed off to think about it.
That hour in the mayor’s office had been more than brutal. It had been utterly humiliating. How could Karen know so much about Dahlia’s past? About her home situation? Wayne must have told her. That’s why Dahlia refused to talk to her cameraman outside of relaying orders. My head is too full of crap for me to properly work on this damned movie. It was supposed to be easy! Drop in for a month, film a bunch of people going about their lives, and construct a story that the audience would find so utterly relatable that they flocked to Paradise Valley and made the locals happy with tourist dollars. How could she screw it up?
Because these people are more than they seem.
Because Dahlia Granger was more than she let on.
That became more apparent when the owner and operator of Waterlily House returned from her honeymoon that weekend. Dahlia had only spoken to Sunny Croker over the phone and email, but even with that limited information, she was not prepared to see the woman who showed up in the kitchen early Monday morning.
“Ah, can I help you?” After another restless night attempting to sleep, Dahlia wasn’t sure if she recognized the petite woman opening cupboards, testing appliances, and wiping up grime wherever she found it. This wasn’t Leigh Ann. Nor was it Anita, who came by once or twice a day to make sure the crew had everything they needed and nothing was amiss. The woman standing in the kitchen had short, blond hair, a pink and white plaid button-up, and skinny jeans that dipped into a pair of well-worn ankle boots. The plaid was rolled up to the elbows while the woman turned the kitchen sink on and off, rewetting towels and washing her hands when she thought nobody was looking.
Dahlia’s words summoned her to turn around, however. A bright, charming smile greeted Dahlia on that bright Monday morning. I’m awake now… How did Dahlia’s hair look? Was it as tangled as it usually was after tossing and turning all night? Because the guys were used to her haggard old-maid look. Not so much lovely young ladies who traipsed about a B&B.
“Hi! You must be Dahlia!” A wet hand extended for a shake. “It’s me, Sunny. Sorry about being gone for so long. Bet you run this place now!” She realized her hand was wet and retracted it to grab a towel off the oven. “Good to see that Anita and Leigh Ann kept the place up to snuff. I really hope they were able to help you all right while I was gone.”
“Oh, no worries…” Dahlia’s mouth was so dry she grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with tap water. Weird. I don’t usually get cotton mouth unless I’m snoring, and I would have a sore throat to go with it. “We’ve been so busy that the sewer line could burst and we wouldn’t notice.” Awkward laughter followed that more awkward sentiment. Sunny put her hands on her hips, a little diamond ring glistening on her left hand. “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. I hope the honeymoon was good. Go anywhere nice?”
“Oh, yeah. We went to SoCal for about a week. The beaches are absolutely lovely this time of year.”
“Beaches, huh?”
“We both bought bikinis for the event. It was my first ever time wearing a bikini out in such a public place!” Sunny was all grins until she saw the shock growing on Dahlia’s face. “Oh, you don’t wanna hear about that, huh?”
It wasn’t that Dahlia didn’t want to hear about it. More like she couldn’t handle the thought of this lovely little lady prancing about on a beach in a sexy bikini. The hell is wrong with me? Since when do I think about women in bikinis? The anxiety crept up on her like she was caught slobbering after girls in school uniforms. Yet Sunny couldn’t be that much younger than her. She was deceptively in her late thirties, and the only reason Dahlia knew that was because Sunny mentioned in an email that she got an NES when they first came out.
“Is your wife around?”
“Who, Brandy? Nah. She has a house in town. We’ll be splitting our time between here and there. This week, I plan on being around. I live in the mother-in-law unit out back. I’ve got a lot to catch up on here, anyway. That vacation was pretty refreshing! Also, have some new people coming to stay in the other room in a couple of days I need to prep for. Sorry, you guys don’t get the place all to yourselves anymore.” Sunny’s laughter was like wind chimes tinkling on the porch.
“That’s all right. We’re pretty settled in now. Although if you need us to clean anything up, simply let us know. I’m afraid one of our crew is currently in the hospital, though. He had an autoimmune flare up.”
“Oh, that’s awful! My wife is the town doctor. I’m sure she could help should anything else come up, now that she’s back in town.”
That would’ve been helpful a few days ago, but it wouldn’t stop Aaron from needing the hospital. “Thanks.” Should Dahlia leave it there? If she said anything else, she might make Sunny uncomfortable. Not that it ever stopped Dahlia from talking off anybody’s ear. She usually didn’t care what people thought of her. Not until that weekend. Not until Karen called her out for being biased, and not until she looked Sunny in the eyes and realized…
Holy hell. She was attracted to her. That’s why she had the cotton mouth, and why she couldn’t get her words to come out the way she intended. Dahlia was like the young middle school wallflower hanging out by the cheerleaders’ lockers, wondering what she should say to get their positive attentions. You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’ve never been attracted to a woman in my life!
Hadn’t she been, though? Couldn’t someone point to another local in town that made her heart thump like it was breaking out of prison? A local who wasn’t afraid to call out her bullshit and put her in her place as an outsider?
So
meone fiercely protective of the people she loved? Someone who stood with confidence and walked with grace?
“Are you all right?” Sunny asked her.
Before Dahlia could throw up, she had to respond to her ringing cell phone in the other room. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to leave her valuables in the common rooms like she did now. Not with strangers coming to stay at Waterlily House. Until then, however, she left her phone wherever the hell she felt like it.
One thing about that? Made it easy to find when it started ringing a few feet away.
Sunny went about her business while Dahlia answered her phone. The number was local. Either the bots were that good, or it was one of her interviewees following up for more.
“Hello? Is this Ms. Dahlia Granger?” The young voice on the other end of the line surprised Dahlia, who had not been anticipating a teenager’s tone. “My name’s Christina Rath. I’m the mayor’s daughter.”
Dahlia wiped the nervous sweat from her head. “What can I do for you, Christina?”
“I want to do an interview with you. I’m only seventeen, but maybe we can do it off the record? I think you need the perspective of a teen girl who knows what it’s like to be the mayor’s daughter.”
Dahlia didn’t disagree with that. Nor did she disagree with the sudden vision of Karen sitting in her office, looking like she’d rather step down as mayor than let her daughter ever be interviewed by the likes of Hibiscus Films, Homophobes at Large.
Chapter 13
KAREN
“Where in the world is Christina?” Karen hadn’t been home for lunch for two seconds before she realized her daughter was nowhere to be found. She did, however, discover Xander in front of the TV playing video games. Someone get this boy a real part-time job, please. “Do you know where your sister is?”
Xander shrugged as his character slammed a sword into a monster’s face. “She said something about going out to see a friend. I figured you knew about it.”
While Karen knew that her son was not his sister’s keeper, she certainly wished her children took interest in what the other did sometimes. Because “going out to see a friend” told Karen nothing when she couldn’t name a single one of her daughter’s friends that summer. Oh, she remembered the friends from ten years ago. The birthday parties, the school dances, the parent-teacher associations… when Karen wasn’t mired in the middle of a busy July, she knew a bit about her daughter’s social life. Yet with Christina’s maturity came new friends at school. Asking “Are you going to Leigh Ann Hardy’s birthday party this year?” got Karen a wrinkled nose and a declaration that they hadn’t been friends in three years. Yes, because Karen totally kept up with that hot news.
“Do you know which friend?” Karen asked.
Xander was too busy taking down a boss to be of any help. Grunting, Karen returned to the kitchen, where she grabbed her phone and attempted to call and text her daughter.
No answer. Typical. Christina might get around to texting her mother back when it was too late to do anything about, well, anything. Yet the only time she actually answered a phone call was if she expected a ride or money. Teenagers, I swear to God…
“If you really need to find her,” Xander called over his shoulder, “you’ve still got that tracking thing on her phone, right?”
Yes, but not on yours. Not that Karen would want to track her grown son who was well out of high school, but Xander made sure of it when he got a phone upgrade before college. Karen hadn’t touched it once. Maybe there were ways for a paranoid mom to put trackers on a phone remotely, but she wasn’t inclined. Besides, Xander had always been good about telling his mother where he was and who he was with. Christina, on the other hand… well, she was a typical teenaged girl in that she loved her privacy. Especially if certain boys came into question.
I swear, if she’s with a boy I don’t know about right now… Perils of being a busy single-mom. Karen didn’t have time to fret over her daughter’s fragile sexual health. Because Karen definitely remembered what she was doing at seventeen! Practicing my making of Xander, that’s what! She shot the back of her son’s head a rueful look as she opened the app on her phone that would track Christina. Assuming her daughter hadn’t figured out how to get rid of it.
“Weird,” she muttered to herself. “It says she’s at Waterlily House.” Maybe Christina had made nice with Leigh Ann after their best friendship in middle school went up in flames for reasons Karen was never privy to know. Because that was one of the only associations Karen had with Waterlily House. Leigh Ann, the English teacher, and of course Sunny Croker, the owner and operator. I was there only two weeks ago to officiate her and Brandelyn’s wedding… Yet wasn’t there something else? She could’ve sworn she had heard the name Waterlily House for non-wedding reasons lately. Hadn’t she recommended it to someone in recent…
Hibiscus Films.
Karen almost dropped her phone. Right. She had suggested Waterlily House as a place for the film crew to stay for the month. Back when Dahlia was on her good side, and Karen was keen to set her up in comfort so she would be in a decent mood. So much for that!
“I’ll be back in a bit.” Karen grabbed her keys. She should probably let Tom, Sissy, and Wanda know that she wouldn’t be making it back to the office for another hour. Did she have appointments? Anything important? She couldn’t remember now. There were more pressing issues at hand. “If you sister calls, don’t tell her I’m heading to Waterlily House.”
“Whoa, what’s going on there? You tracked her, huh?” This was juicy enough news for Xander to pause his game and hang over the back of the couch. “Why would she be there? Someone throwing a party?”
“Not with Sunny back in town,” Karen muttered. She had lunch with Brandy the day before, enjoying tales of sunny beaches, romantic nights, and what young, honeymooning love looked like on a forty-year-old woman’s face. I had been jealous for the past twenty-four hours. Now I’m a mire of rage. There was only one reason for Christina to be at Waterlily House. Xander didn’t need to know what that was. “Keep an eye on things here until I get back. I’ll let you know if I’ll be out late.”
“Oooh, somebody’s in trouble, huh?”
“Aren’t you a bit old to be loving this?”
“I know you’re an only child, Mom, but trust me when I say you’re never too old to enjoy the damnation of your younger siblings. It only gets sweeter with age.” He kissed his fingertips as if he savored a fine Italian supper. At this rate, Karen might ask him to whip up one. She’d need all the carbs and oregano in the world. “Go kick her butt for me, would you? I hear you’re the one not too old to do that.”
“I’ll take the compliment of you saying that I’m not too old to do something, and get the hell out of here.” Karen marched out of the house and back to her car. It was still warm from when she first arrived.
A million scenarios flashed through her mind as she drove the mile out of town to reach Waterlily House. The only benign scenario was that Christina really was hanging out with Leigh Ann, and Hibiscus Films was a coincidence. An unlikely story. Christina knew enough about the film crew and some of her mother’s woes with them. That’s what happened when Karen overshared to the only people left in her family, regardless of how young and unbothered they were. Christina entertained the kind of rebellious stage that might align her with the one woman Karen would rather not talk to right now.
Here was hoping it was nothing like that.
Waterlily House occupied most of the land at the end of a short yet winding road right off the highway. The county road ended halfway there, however, and Karen had to begrudgingly slow down to squeak past an old Chevy Impala heading in the opposite direction. She vaguely recognized a man who stayed at the B&B about once a month and frequented the shops and cafés downtown. The man certainly recognized her. Why else would he wave?
“Lovely day, Mayor!” He stepped on the gas as his words finally filtered into Karen’s ears. So did the dust he kicked up behind him.
>
The proper parking lot at Waterlily House was a mess. Karen snuck behind the Hibiscus Films van, an indication that they were still on the property and not out mucking up the town. The mayor in her was satisfied with this outcome. The mother in her? Absolutely livid!
“Oh, hey, Karen.” Sunny knelt before the rose bushes in the front garden. Her sunhat had covered her face, although Karen would recognize those jeans and that plaid from anywhere. Everyone was shocked she wore a dress to the wedding. Brandy said it would be a suit, but we had bets at city hall it would be a suit made of flannel. “What can I do you for? Brandy’s down at the clinic, if that’s who you’re looking for.”
Karen checked the panic on her face and straightened out her pantsuit. Right. She looked like she was on official business. “Do you know if my daughter’s here?”
“Oooh, right. I thought I saw someone. Assumed she was here to see Leigh Ann. She dropped by earlier for her volunteer work. Sorry, there are so many people here right now, and I’m still barely learning their faces.”
Christina isn’t a volunteer here, that’s for sure. “Thanks. Is it all right if I head on in? I’ll try not to bother the other guests.”
“You’re always welcome to come and go, Mayor.”
Karen offered one last glance in Sunny’s direction before opening the screen door and heading inside.
It didn’t take her long to find Christina. Or Dahlia, for that matter.
“…If you were to be on camera, I don’t see a reason to change anything about your appearance. We don’t have our own makeup person, but all we really ask is you don’t go too garish, you know?” That was Dahlia’s voice, and it was directed to the teenager sitting across from her at the small table in the study. Perfectly private enough for a clandestine interview, but right in Karen’s line of sight!
Honestly, it was rather insulting.
July Skies Page 10
