All That Lies Within
Page 12
“Anyway. I can’t imagine I’ll ever get another letter from Constance. I just wanted her to know that she doesn’t need to be looking over her shoulder. There is no other shoe that’s going to drop. I’ll never bother her again.”
Rebecca reached into her purse, pulled out enough cash to pay the bill, and stood. “Please…” She couldn’t choke back a sob. “Please tell her how much I admire her heart and soul and her intellect. Please tell her how much I enjoyed our correspondence and how much it meant to me. And please tell her I wish her all the best. She’s an extraordinary gift to the world, in all ways.”
“Rebecca—”
Rebecca couldn’t look Carolyn in the eye. “Thank you so much for seeing me. I didn’t think you would. I’m so glad you did. Thank you for listening. And you were right, this is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had. Take care, Carolyn.”
Rebecca didn’t wait for a reply. She simply ran, dodging tables and patrons along the way, her heart aching with every step.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Tell me again why we’re going to a gallery opening for a Southwestern landscape photographer?” Dara asked.
“I’m sorry. What?” Carolyn maneuvered through the early evening traffic on the way to the Everest Priest Gallery on the East Side.
“Hello? Earth to Carolyn. Where the heck are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you haven’t said two words since we got in the car and you’re lights on, nobody’s home. What gives?”
“Nothing.” All afternoon, Carolyn hadn’t stopped thinking about her meeting with Rebecca. She wasn’t ready to tell Dara about it; she hadn’t finished fully processing it herself. “What was your question?”
“Why are we going to a photography gallery opening?”
“Oh. Well, the work is breathtaking. I thought you might want something for the beach house.”
“And?” Dara’s stare was penetrating.
“And, what?”
“How long have I known you?”
“As long as I’ve known you.”
“Cute. There’s more to it. If it was just a matter of decorating my house, you’d have gone yourself, found something you knew I’d like, and bought it.”
Carolyn knew she had to come clean about tonight. Dara would know soon enough, anyway. “We know the artist.”
“We…know the artist?”
“Yes.”
Dara turned to face Carolyn. “If it was someone I liked, you would’ve told me long before now. So, who is it?”
Carolyn took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. “You remember Renée Maupin?” Carolyn could feel Dara seething. “Look. All of that was a long time ago. We were just kids. Renée has changed. She’s grown up.”
Carolyn chanced a glance at Dara’s face. Her expression was completely closed. “Say something.”
“I’m contemplating who I should kill first, you or her.”
Carolyn winced. “Hopefully, neither of us.”
“How could you possibly think I’d want to see her, never mind support her work?”
“I’m telling you, she’s a completely different human being than the sullen, mean kid we knew in school.”
“She wasn’t just sullen and mean, Car. She was a bully. She made my life a living hell.”
Carolyn considered it a positive sign that Dara hadn’t asked her to turn the car around and allowed the ensuing silence to linger. After several minutes, she peeked over and saw that Dara’s face held so much sadness. She reached out and patted Dara’s leg.
“I’m sorry. I know this has been an incredibly emotional week for you, and this just adds a whole new layer.”
“That’s an understatement. It’s just…I’m not sure I can handle one more thing, you know?”
“I know. But in a sense, this week is all about healing the past. When Renée read about your mother’s death and saw that you were in town, she contacted me and specifically asked if we would stop by the opening.”
“Why?”
“Good question. She said she had something she wanted to say to you. I told her she could say it to me and I would be happy to pass it along. But she said it was time for her to revisit the sins of her youth and make amends. Since you’re leaving tomorrow, this is the only chance.”
“And to think, I almost got away.”
“I spent a while talking to her, Dar. I couldn’t believe this was the same person. You’ll see.” Carolyn pulled up in front of the valet parking area. “If we get in there and you don’t agree, we can turn right back around, okay?”
Dara didn’t answer. She simply shook her head in resignation and stepped out of the car.
The first thing Dara noticed was a massive image of a snow-covered canyon vista. The picture covered an entire wall and took Dara’s breath away.
“This is my favorite, as well.”
Dara turned to see a gorgeous Native American woman standing beside her and smiled.
“To be fair, I can’t say that it’s my favorite yet, since it’s the only one I’ve seen.”
“I am Yazhi Begay.” The woman held out her hand and Dara took it.
“Dara Thomas.”
“I know. Thank you for coming. Renée wasn’t sure you would. I assured her you’d be here. She’ll be quite pleased.”
“You’re a friend of Renée’s?”
Yazhi’s laugh was easy and soft. “I am her wife.”
Dara struggled to keep the shock off her face. She wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“Are you more surprised that Renée is gay, or that she is married to me?”
Yazhi’s eyes shone bright with mirth and the good humor was contagious.
“Um…Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Take all the time you need. I will get Renée.”
Dara moved on to the next image as her mind continued to swirl. It was a mystery how a woman whose energy felt as gentle as Yazhi Begay’s could love someone like Renée Maupin.
The title on the next photograph was “Fated Encounters.” The walls of a slot canyon were iridescent.
“I snapped that the day I met my wife. Hence the title.”
“Renée.”
“Dara.” Renée was Dara’s height, so they were eye-to-eye. “Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it and I know it was probably the last thing in the world you wanted to do.”
“Your work is stunning.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
“It’s the truth.”
Dara thought Renée seemed subdued and almost humble. It was hard to ignore that she’d grown up to be a very attractive woman. Still, Dara knew a thing or two about judging the content of one’s character based on physical beauty.
“Carolyn tells me you have something you wanted to say.”
“To the point and forthright. Just as I remembered. But then again, you always had more courage than I did. A lot more courage than I did.” Renée fussed with her cufflink. “All right, but I’d like to do this someplace a little more private. Please, follow me.”
The office was well appointed and softly lit. The chairs looked comfortable, but Dara wasn’t planning on staying long enough to find out. She stood just inside the door and folded her arms across her chest. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Renée nervously licked her lips. “When I met my wife, I was a lot like you remember—I was a complete bitch. I was angry at the world, I was bitter, and the only thing or person I cared about was myself.” She moved to the corner of the desk and leaned against it. “Yazhi changed everything. She taught me to embrace all of who I was and not to be afraid of it anymore.”
“I’m glad for you.” Dara didn’t know what else to say.
“That’s where you come in.” Renée finally made eye contact. “Do you recall how, whenever you talked about seeing people who had passed over, I was the first one to give you shit?”
Dara flashed on an image of Timmy. “Yeah. Being made to feel like a complete p
ariah and a freak is not something a kid easily forgets.”
“Right. First, I want to apologize for treating you that way and for encouraging others to do the same. I was a jackass.”
Dara raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but an astonishingly frank self-assessment and apology wasn’t it.
“I know, right? Who thought I’d ever become self-aware enough to admit that.” Renée shook her head. “But wait, there’s more.”
Dara unfolded her arms and consciously assumed a less hostile posture. “I’m listening.”
“I want to explain why I was the way I was. It doesn’t excuse anything,” Renée hastened to add, “but it does shine a little light on the whys and wherefores.”
“Okay.”
“The truth is, I was more like you than I wanted to admit. Those things that you saw—the kid on the playground, the old teacher in the classroom—I saw them just as clearly as you did.”
“What?” Dara felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her and she lowered herself into the nearest chair.
“I saw the exact same things you did. The difference between us was that you were brave enough to say it out loud. I was too afraid of the consequences.”
Dara tried to assimilate the information. It was mind-boggling. Slowly, anger rose up from her gut and into her chest, where it bloomed.
“You were afraid of the consequences? Do you think I wasn’t? Do you think it was easy being the butt of everyone’s jokes? Having people—including, and maybe especially you—say horrible things about me?”
“I’m sure that it wasn’t.” Renée’s voice was quiet and contrite. “As I said, you were a much better person than I was. You had the courage of your convictions.”
“I went through my entire childhood thinking there was something wrong with me. I felt so isolated and alone. You…you used my pain to make yourself more popular. ‘Let’s make fun of the weirdo who sees things that aren’t there.’” The adult Dara realized, even as the words poured forth, that the distress she was feeling belonged to the small child inside her, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“You’re right. I wish I could go back and undo it all and do everything over again. But I can’t. I can’t take away the pain and anguish I caused you. The pain and anguish you’re still feeling right now. I would if I could, I promise you.”
Renée came and sat in the chair directly opposite Dara. She leaned forward and clasped her hands together, her forearms resting on her thighs. “I don’t know what it was like growing up in your house. It isn’t like you ever invited me over. Not that I blame you,” she added immediately. “But in my house, it wasn’t safe to be who I was. My mother thought I was Satan’s spawn. She was convinced I was possessed and threatened to send me away.”
Almost against her will, Dara felt her anger melting away. It was as if she and Renée were twin daughters of different mothers.
“My parents were the same way.”
Renée nodded grimly. “Then I’m even sorrier. My answer to the situation was to shut down my abilities and pretend like they weren’t there. Like a homophobe who is a self-loathing homosexual and doesn’t want anyone to know. The easiest way to draw suspicion away is to be the loudest detractor.”
“Not being honest about what I saw never occurred to me.”
“As I said, you were far stronger than I was. I was so in awe of you. You were just the coolest person I knew. But I couldn’t be you. And that made me hate myself even more.”
For the first time in her life, Dara understood Renée. She still couldn’t fathom being the bully Renée had been, but she could empathize with her, nonetheless. And that was enough.
“I get it. And I’m sorry for the way things were in your family. Heck, I’m sorry for the way things were in my own family.”
“I’m sorry about your mother, by the way,” Renée said.
“Thanks. I hadn’t seen her in years. When I left for college, I never looked back.”
“I can understand why.”
Dara studied Renée’s face. Now she looked relaxed and at peace. “Why did you want to tell me all this now? Why not just leave it all alone?”
“Yazhi is such an incredibly gifted healer and spiritualist. She recognized right away that I had stuffed down and rejected all of my abilities. She helped me to see what a gift they are and to get in touch with them again. I’m so glad I did. I’m so much more centered and aware.”
“She sounds like a really special woman.”
Renée’s face lit up. “She is. Anyway, we went to see one of your movies. It was really good.” Renée blushed, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and cleared her throat. “Afterward, I told Yazhi the story of our childhood and what an idiot I was. She helped me to see how important it is to heal what’s in our auric field.”
“Like I said, it sounds like she’s a keeper. I’m glad you’ve got her in your life and that you’re happy.” Dara felt a pang of loneliness. For reasons she didn’t want to examine, Rebecca’s face flashed before her eyes. Just as quickly, she dismissed it.
“I really wanted to make this right, Dara. And not because you’re famous, either. It’s just time, you know?”
Dara could see that Renée was sincere. “I appreciate your reaching out. That took a lot of guts.”
“Yeah, well… Anyway, I have something for you.” Renée stood up and Dara followed suit. “Wait here a sec.”
Dara did as she was told. Her head was swimming, but one thing was certain—Carolyn was right. This was not the same girl she knew growing up.
“This is for you.” Renée handed Dara a gorgeous, museum-mounted image of a lone tree framed by a glorious sunset with the remaining rays of the day’s light reflecting off the red rocks in the background.
“It’s incredible.” The beauty of the shot transfixed Dara.
“The tree is you. Standing strong and true. May you always walk in the rays of a perfect sunset and remain as courageous and steadfast as you were when we were kids.”
Dara opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. So she tried again. “I—I don’t know what to say. That’s a lovely sentiment.”
“I mean it.”
And Dara could see that she did.
Renée continued, “I know it’s unlikely, but if you ever wanted to keep in touch, I’d like that.”
She was back to fiddling with her cufflink, and Dara realized this wasn’t easy for her.
“I’d like that very much. I don’t come to New York much, but next time I’m in town maybe we could all get together for dinner. Likewise if you ever come to LA, assuming I’m in town.”
“That’d be great.”
They started to walk out together. “I’m glad I came,” Dara said.
“Me too.”
Dara didn’t know how much time had passed, but when they cleared the hallway and entered the main gallery, the place was packed.
“Oh, my. I didn’t mean to take you away from your fans.” Dara gave Renée a hug. She could feel her surprise. “Thank you for the gifts. I’ll treasure all three of them always.”
“Three?”
“The photograph, the apology, and your friendship.”
“Oh.” Renée stepped back. “You’re welcome on all counts. Number two was way overdue.”
“You’d better go mingle. I’ve got to get going anyway. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”
“Safe journeys, Dara. I wish you every success.”
“Likewise.”
Renée disappeared into the crowd. Within seconds, Carolyn was by Dara’s side, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
“Don’t gloat.”
“Well? Was I right or was I right?”
“You were right. Now take me home before I turn into a pumpkin.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“I bet you would.”
Rebecca shuffled papers around on her desk. Class would start soon, and yet she couldn’t seem to muster any enthusias
m for it. Traditionally, the first lecture of the semester was her personal favorite. She enjoyed seeing all those eager faces, alert and ready to learn.
Since her visit to New York, she’d made a few adjustments to her course on “Constance Darrow and the Modern American Heroine.” As she’d explained to Carolyn, being able to study the author and factor in the author’s background and experiences did much to illuminate the subtext of the work.
The fact that the author was Dara Thomas made all the difference in the world. Still, Rebecca was careful not to include anything in her presentation that would make the connection between Constance and Dara.
Rebecca felt the now-familiar ache in her heart at the thought of Dara. Constance. She needed to continue to think of her as Constance so that she didn’t slip and reveal anything.
It seemed ridiculous that the absence of a woman with whom she’d shared a few letters and a bond over well-written literature should leave such a gaping hole in her life, but it did.
Rebecca eyed the clock on the wall. “Pull yourself together. It’s show time.” She gathered her papers together and headed for the lecture hall.
“They loved the table read you did with Sam. You got the part!” Rick Church’s voice was an octave higher than normal, as was usual when he was excited.
“Good,” Dara said. She was sitting on her back deck, watching the waves wash in against the shore.
“Because of the response to your interest in the project, everything’s being fast-tracked. Filming is set to start in two weeks. I’m having the script messengered to you right now. Rehearsals start next week.”
“Okay.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t understand you lately. You should be thrilled.”
“I’m jumping up and down on the inside.”
“Very funny. For more than a year, ever since Jessica Howland got fired from the role, you’ve been telling me how much you want to play Celeste in On the Wings of Angels. Now I tell you the part is yours, and you’ve barely got a pulse.”
“As I recall, you wanted me to do a Broadway show to improve my chances. I’m sure glad I had confidence in my ability to get the part on my own.” Dara heard the sarcasm in her own voice and frowned. “I’m sorry. That was shitty.”