We walked in silence back to the Bentley. When we were sitting inside the car, I turned to Derek. “I can’t believe my little sister is a green belt. I’m sort of blown away—as if you couldn’t tell from my practically comatose behavior in there.”
“It’s quite an accomplishment,” he said mildly.
“I know.” I shook my head, still feeling a little bewildered. As far as I knew, China had never been interested in self-defense. What else was going on in her life that I was clueless about? I’d have to find out. “And I just now realized I’m jealous of her.”
“You could get there, too,” he said. “If that’s what you want, you can have it. I’ve never known anyone as determined and talented as you.”
I gave him a smile for that. Honestly, he was the best husband ever.
“I always thought I just wanted to learn enough to be able to kick someone’s butt.” I laughed sheepishly. “But now I want to learn more. I want to be as good as China.” I thought about it for another few seconds and realized that I meant every word. “But also, I guess I want her to be proud of me.” I gazed at him. “And you, too. Is that weird?”
“Not at all. It’s natural. But darling, I am proud of you. So proud. Still, anything that motivates you to improve yourself is a good thing.”
“You sound like Keith.”
He smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I liked his philosophy.”
“It was definitely a compliment,” I assured him.
“Brooklyn, dearest,” he said, his fingers softly stroking my cheek. “I want you to be able to kick someone’s butt if they’re a danger to you. But I also will support you if you want to keep going toward a green belt. Even if you simply want to rub your sister’s nose in it.”
I laughed. “That would be a definite side benefit.”
He started the engine. “Let’s go see how your mother is doing.”
* * *
• • •
My mother was just fine. More than fine, really, if you didn’t count the ugly bruises underneath her sweater and long pants. She was antsy and ready to get out of the house.
“How are you doing, Dad?” I asked, and gave him a hug.
“I’m groovy,” he said. “I’m just glad that your mom’s feeling better. It was a little scary there for a while.”
“You can say that again,” I murmured, and hugged him once more for good measure.
“But I’m fine now,” Mom insisted, and glanced up at the clock. “We should get going.”
“All right.” I looked at my father. “We’re taking off. You’re going to your meeting at the winery soon?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there all afternoon.” He gave Mom a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
“I’m not fragile,” she said, pulled Dad back, and kissed him on the lips with a resounding smack.
“All righty then,” I said, and started for the door. “See you later, Dad.”
“Take care of your mother.”
I raised my hand in acknowledgment. “We’ll watch her like a hawk.”
I forced my mother to sit in the front seat again and climbed into the back, taking her tote bag with me.
“Thank you, Derek, for driving with me.”
“Of course, Rebecca.”
I spoke up. “You know, Mom, you might think about going back to the scene of your accident later.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m not sure I can face it.”
“It might not be easy for you. I did it just a while ago and it was hard. But it’s right out in front of Savannah’s restaurant, Mom. I think we should wave a little white sage around to clean up the negative vibes.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, then I heard a sniffle.
“Mom? You okay?”
“I’m just so proud of you for suggesting that,” she said. “And yes, if we have time after the meeting, I would love to go and banish all of that negativity. It’s important. I should’ve thought of it myself.”
“You’ve had a few things on your mind.”
She laughed lightly. “I suppose I have.”
In the rearview mirror, Derek met my gaze and nodded in approval. And that made me very happy, even though I was still a little amazed that I’d been the one to bring up the subject of banishment spells to my mother.
Good grief. Since when had I ever suggested sage waving and wacko spellcasting? Since never. No, I was simply nervous about her safety and knew how to make her feel better. Yeah. That was it. Nothing more to see here.
“I’m just so worried about the festival,” Mom confessed as we drove up the Lane toward the town hall.
“Because of the money?”
“Yes.” She shook her head and let go of a heavy sigh. “I heard from the porta-potty company.”
“That sounds like a fun conversation.”
“It wasn’t,” she said flatly. “Our check bounced and they won’t deliver any porta-potties if we don’t pay up.”
“That’s serious,” I murmured.
“You bet your sweet bippy it’s serious. We’re expecting at least five thousand people to show up in a few days and we can’t have them wandering into the woods to drop trou.”
“Whoa, Mom!”
Derek laughed out loud.
They were both having a good laugh at my reaction, but what could I say? My Mom was never boring.
* * *
• • •
We parked outside of the town hall and Mom turned and smiled at us. “I have a quick surprise for both of you.”
Derek and I exchanged a look. “I’m not sure I can take any more surprises.”
“You’ll like this one, sweetie.”
“Okay. Lead the way.”
“It’s right over here,” she said, and walked across the street to the small park situated in the middle of Berkeley Circle. The festival booths were starting to be erected along the Circle drive itself and they looked so pretty and festive in their alternating pastel shades of blue, pink, yellow, and white. Each booth held two utility tables and several folding chairs, and I couldn’t wait to get started decorating my booth with colorful tablecloths and posters. And lots of books, naturally.
The booths faced the central park where the pretty gazebo in the middle of the Green would act as the children’s stage where musicians, magicians, and characters would perform.
There were dozens of chairs and benches already set up along the periphery for any visitors who needed to take a break from the festivities. If we could figure out the financing, the porta-potties would be set up in a long line along the northern edge of the Circle.
Mom checked her watch. “We may need to move your car if the meeting lasts longer than two hours.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Derek said amiably.
“It’s kind of exciting, watching everything get set up,” I said, weaving my arm through my mother’s.
“Yes,” she said, sounding wistful. “Almost two years of planning and it all begins in a matter of days.”
Mom kept walking.
“So where are we headed?” I asked again.
“Just over here,” she pointed. “By the festival entrance.”
But before we reached the entrance, I heard a familiar voice.
“Yoo-hoo! Brooklyn! Derek!”
“Oh!” My eyes lit up at the sound. And that’s when I saw them. I looked up at Derek and he grinned. We would recognize that lovely Indian accent anywhere.
“It’s Vinnie and Suzie!” I jogged over and grabbed them both in a group hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
Derek came up right behind me and wrapped all of us in his arms. “Wonderful to see you both.” He looked down at Lily sitting in the baby stroller. “I mean, all three of you.”
They had officially adopted th
e little girl almost two years ago, after their best friends, Lily’s parents, were killed in a traffic accident.
“Hey, kiddo,” Suzie said, punching my arm. “How you doin’?”
“Oh, Brooklyn,” Vinnie said in her delightful lilting accent. “You look so good. And Derek, what a delight.”
Then she straightened up and smiled and nodded to my mother. “Hello, Mrs. Wainwright. What a pleasure to see you again.”
“So formal, Vinnie.” Mom laughed and grabbed her in a hug. “It’s wonderful to see you, too.”
Suzie swung her arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Sorry, you won’t get much formality from me. How’s things, Mrs. Wainwright?”
“Couldn’t be better.” Mom was still laughing as she gave Suzie a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“We are, too.” The two women both wore their signature outfits of torn jeans, leather vests, chains, and black boots.
Derek knelt down to get eye to eye with little Lily. No leather and chains for her; she wore a frilly pink dress with pink leggings and pink tennis shoes. Derek glanced up. “She is gorgeous.”
“Yes, she is,” Vinnie murmured.
Derek rubbed Lily’s chubby cheek with his knuckles and the little girl simply stared, mesmerized by his handsome face.
“Dak,” she said on a sigh. It was close to “Derek.”
I understood completely. Lily was already half in love with Derek and who wouldn’t be?
Suzie laughed. “You have a fan, Derek.”
I smiled. What female wouldn’t love it when a man like Derek Stone touched her cheek that way?
I stooped down in front of Lily. “Hello, angel.”
“Book!” Lily squealed, giving me a grin. I loved her nickname for me. She couldn’t quite manage “Brooklyn,” so she called me “Book.” And that was way appropriate, I thought.
“My Lily girl,” I said. “You look beautiful!”
Lily patted her pink hair ribbon and preened a bit. “Tankoo.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then I listened to an incomprehensible list of news items from the tiny girl before I finally stood up, smiling.
Vinnie hugged me again. “The two of you have such a special relationship.”
I loved their adopted daughter to pieces. “We relate on a whole different plane.”
Suzie snickered. “That’s one way to put it.”
“So where are they putting your sculpture?” I asked.
Suzie pointed. “Over there. They’re using it right at the main entrance. It’s up on a pedestal.” Her voice held a ring of pride and who could blame her? As incredibly talented chainsaw artists, Suzie and Vinnie had created some of the most beautiful pieces I’d ever seen. This one was no exception.
I stared at the large piece of sculpted burl wood in the shape of an open book. The thing was massive; at least ten feet across and five or six feet high. “Wow. It’s fantastic.”
“Let’s go get a better look at it,” Mom said, and once again led the way to the festival entrance where Berkeley Circle began.
The sculpture depicted a huge open book with pages fluttering like a fan. The pages were each as thin as an actual piece of paper and I could see words carved into them.
“It’s ingenious,” I whispered, circling the imposing piece, admiring their skill. How they managed to create something so beautiful out of wood with a chainsaw was simply impossible for me to comprehend. “And it’s huge. I love that they put it right out front.”
“I’m just thrilled,” Mom said after a long moment of studying the piece. “It makes such a wonderful statement for our very first book festival.”
“Hey, it’s a book,” Suzie said, grinning. “And it’s at a book festival. Makes sense.”
“It sure does,” Mom said, laughing as she touched Suzie’s arm. “But it’s so much more than just a book.”
In the last few years, Vinnie and Suzie’s work had won awards and acclaim at art shows around the country. They billed themselves as the chainsaw-wielding lesbians, and one reason their style was so unique and revelatory was because even though they sculpted in heavy burl wood, they had the talent to turn the massive rustic chunks into the most delicate pieces imaginable. I could still picture their last significant piece: a ten-foot-tall woman, whose hair billowed in the wind. Each strand of hair was only as thick as actual human hair. It was stunning.
“It’s simply brilliant,” Derek said. “Your genius grows with every new work.”
Vinnie sniffed. “It is so touching to hear you say it, Derek. You bring tears to my eyes.”
Suzie tugged Vinnie over to her side for a hard hug. “Everything brings on the waterworks lately.”
“Why is that, Vinnie?” I asked, concerned that she might be sick.
“Because Lily is no longer a baby,” Vinnie explained. “She’s almost three years old and a big girl now. She starts preschool after the New Year.”
“Wow,” I said. “She’s growing up so fast.”
“We will be empty nesters in a few months,” Vinnie cried. “What will we do? How will we live?”
“Empty nesters for three hours a day, Vin,” Suzie corrected.
“How will we fill our time?” Vinnie was practically wailing.
Suzie shrugged. “We can always play bingo at the senior center.”
Vinnie moaned and we all laughed.
“Come on you guys,” I said. “You’re younger than I am.”
“Still, the time passes.” Vinnie sniffed again, then waved her hand. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Suzie gave Vinnie a quick kiss. “She gets emotional.”
“You do, too, Suzie. But you hide it better in public.”
Suzie winked at me. “Gotta maintain my tough-chick persona.” She flexed her muscles and we all laughed some more.
“It’s really good to see you guys.” I glanced at my mother. “But we have to get my mom to her meeting.”
“We will be here all weekend,” Vinnie said. “Perhaps we can get together for a meal.”
“We would love that,” I said. “I’ll give you a call.”
* * *
• • •
Mom had barely called the committee meeting to order when Saffron began to wail. “We’ll have to cancel everything!”
“Calm down, Saffron,” Mom said, pounding the gavel on the table. “We have a lot to talk about today and we can’t do it if people start freaking out.”
As if on cue, everyone began to speak and Mom banged the gavel a few more times. Then she rubbed her head and it was obvious that she was getting a headache.
If this continues, I thought, I’ll grab that gavel and cancel the damn meeting myself. As it was now, Mom wouldn’t get anything done if everyone kept blathering over each other. She’s so fragile right now, I thought. But I would never say so to her face, knowing she would fight me.
Derek leaned up close to me and whispered, “I can see every muscle in your body on red alert. Are you all right?”
“I want to help her.”
“I do, too. But honestly, she’s handling it quite well. And we don’t want to diminish her authority.”
He was right, darn it. I watched Mom for another half minute, then said, “Okay, I won’t charge the table just yet.”
“Good girl. If you feel that you might need to, let me know and I’ll make the charge with you.”
I squeezed his hand, so grateful that he was mine.
“Winston,” Mom said, “Did you speak with the bank?”
“I did.”
“Can you give us a report?”
Winston gave a summary of his conversation with the vice president of the bank. “The money is definitely gone, and since the person who withdrew it was the same person that was listed on the account, namely Lawson, there’s no
thing the bank can do for us.”
“Thank you,” Mom said. “Sue, did you talk to any of our underwriters?”
“I spoke with the president of the Friends of the Library. She’s devastated by our loss, but she also told me that their forty-thousand-dollar contribution was insured by their insurance company.”
“What?” Saffron sounded like she didn’t believe what she’d just heard.
“But that’s great news,” Jan said.
Marybeth pounded on the table. “Fantastic!”
“Yeah, so that’s the good news,” Sue said. “The bad news is that they can’t give us any more money until their insurance company pays them the funds. And that’ll take a while. So we’re out of luck there.”
“The Friends of the Library has a booth at the festival,” Saffron said. “Can’t we threaten to cancel their booth if they don’t give us more money?”
“Oh, dear lord,” Jan said, turning to look at Saffron as if she had two heads. A shame she didn’t, really, since one of them might have had some sense. “Are you insane?”
“Criminally insane is more like it,” Clyde grumbled.
Despite our strange discussion earlier that morning, I was happy to see Clyde and gave him a thumbs-up. He grinned back at me and it was a rare but welcome sight.
“Saffron, please,” Mom said, with infinite patience. “We’re not going to threaten anyone in order to obtain the money. I think that’s called bribery, or maybe extortion.”
“Good gravy,” Jan muttered loudly, shaking his head.
“Besides,” Mom continued. “This is a book festival. The Friends of the Library organization supports books and reading. Why would we want to do that to them? They weren’t the ones who lost the money.”
I leaned over and whispered to Derek. “What would you think about offering to give the festival the money they need?”
He simply stared at me, clearly stunned.
I gulped, frankly surprised at his reaction. “I take it you’re not thrilled by the idea.”
“I’m simply surprised. I didn’t realize you were thinking along those lines.”
I shrugged. “I thought about it earlier, but then got distracted and forgot to mention it. But now that we’re here and listening to everyone and worrying about Mom and the fate of the festival . . . And well, I’ll talk to the lawyers, but it could be considered a business expense, right? Because it’s all about books. So what do you think? It’s not a completely horrible idea, is it?”
The Grim Reader Page 19
