The Happy Endings Book Club
Page 2
Paige had the urge to throw herself into his lap. Arley Douglas was the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on. He had black hair, peppered gray at the edges, and blue eyes that crinkled slightly when he smiled, which was often. Every time she ran into him, she’d look into those eyes and strange feelings and memories would stir but not quite surface. He seemed familiar, and yet he was like no one she’d ever met. He was larger than life, and when he turned his focus on you, you felt like the only person in the world. He seemed to care. And as much as Paige reminded herself that he treated everyone the same way, it was truly nice to be in his company, even occasionally, because Paige was rarely around a man who seemed to care.
“I’m worried that my mother might have … ah … dementia or something.”
Arley looked concerned. “What makes you say that?”
Paige fingered the locket around her neck. “Well, to cut a long story short—”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why cut a long story short?”
Paige was thrown. “I don’t want to bore you.”
“Why would you bore me?”
“I … just might.”
“Because you think I find you dull? Or do you think I have a short attention span?” Arley pretended to be offended.
“No … I mean … I don’t know you very well, but I presume your attention span is perfectly fine.” Why did he always turn her into an inarticulate fool?
“So why do you think the long story would bore me?” Arley grinned at Paige. “I’d prefer the long story.”
Paige stared at him in surprise. He was a most unusual man. Her ex, Tim, used to get extremely impatient with her if her stories went on for more than a minute.
“Okay, the long story it is …”
For the next forty minutes, Paige found herself telling Arley things she’d never discussed with anyone, certainly not Tim. She told Arley about her childhood, her mother, how she felt about never meeting her father, how in many ways she chose Tim because at first his controlling ways seemed quite fatherly. And then, finally, she recounted the conversation she’d just had with her mother. She left out the bit about her father being a fairy, without quite knowing why, but she told him everything else.
“And so,” she finished, “I can only conclude that she must be losing her mind … to suggest that my father is still alive … and would in all likelihood outlive me.”
Arley nodded, as he’d done countless times since her tale began. “She may be a bit confused after the anesthetic, but that doesn’t imply something as sinister as dementia. I work with a lot of dementia patients and I’ve certainly never seen any warning signs with your mum. She’s as sharp as a tack.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “And a dreadful flirt.”
Paige blinked a couple of times. Had he mixed his patients up?
“My mother is Jean Macintyre in room 76. With the hip replacement.”
Arley’s eyes twinkled. “Even if I’d forgotten your mother, Paige, I’m certain I wouldn’t forget you.”
Paige felt her cheeks flush again. Damn them! “It’s just when you say she’s a flirt … that’s not normal behavior for her.”
“Is that so? She seems awfully good at it.”
“Do you think it’s tied in with what she said to me?”
Arley didn’t seem to be concerned. “It’s not like she said anything completely outrageous.”
“There was one more thing she said that’s rather … outrageous. One thing I haven’t yet told you.” Paige was embarrassed now. “She told me that my father is … gay.”
“Gay?”
“A homosexual.”
Arley’s eyebrows shot up. “She said he’s a homosexual?”
“Well, no, the exact word she used was fairy, which is so typical of her narrow-mindedness, to even use that word. She said, Paige, your father is a fairy and lives in Cornwall.”
Arley stared intently at Paige for what seemed like an eternity, his sea blue eyes searching deep into her own. Finally he said, “Why don’t you go back in and ask her more about it? The very fact that she’s even mentioned it, after all this time, means she wants to talk.” Arley stood and smiled reassuringly. “Then, afterward, drop by and see me. And if you’re still concerned, I’ll talk to her doctor.”
“I appreciate that. She won’t let me speak to her doctor.”
“Fair enough. She’s elderly, but wants to remain independent.”
“Well, that won’t happen if she has dementia, will it?”
“Go and talk to her, Paige. Ask questions. And be open to what she says.’
Paige nodded. Arley was right. She needed to find out as much as possible while her mother was in the mood to talk. “Thanks for listening.”
“No, thank you for sharing.” And with that he sauntered out in such a sexy way that it was impossible for Paige to not check out his butt. For a moment she almost felt young again. Then she remembered her own butt and the feeling passed.
*
Paige returned to her mother’s room to find Jean flicking through a copy of Vogue.
“I thought you’d left.”
“I was talking to Arley.”
Jean’s face lit up. “He’s a sexy man.”
Good lord, was this her mother or an impostor planted by aliens?
“He’s about your age too,” Jean added. “And single … so I’m told.”
“By who?”
“By him, when I asked him.”
Paige shook her head. How had her buttoned-up mother ever become relaxed enough to ask her physiotherapist such a question?
“I think you two have an awful lot in common. Perhaps more than you realize.”
“Well, unless he spends most nights alone eating Marks & Spencer dinners while flicking through book release catalogues, that’s unlikely.”
“You could ask him out,” Jean suggested.
“Pigs will fly first.”
“There are stranger things out there than flying pigs, dear.”
Paige decided to ignore her mother and take control of the conversation. “I need to know, Mum, what makes you think my father was—?”
“A fairy?”
“Well, yes, I guess … for want of a better term. I’m not sure that’s appropriate, but yes.”
“He told me,” Jean said
“He told you?”
“Yes. I didn’t believe him at first. As you can imagine, I was shocked. But then he introduced me to all the other fairies. I went to some fairy parties with him. I had fun … everyone so happy and gay.”
Paige yanked at her collar. The room was so stuffy. “So how long before you left him?”
“Two years. Around the time you were born.”
Paige looked at her mother in horror. “You stayed with him, and fell pregnant, despite what you knew about him?”
“I know, but I was in love. The reality only hit home when I became pregnant. I knew having a little half-blood—”
“Half what?”
“Well, you’re half his, Paige, whether you like it or not.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make me half gay … or bisexual … or anything.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Jean was completely baffled.
“Having a gay father doesn’t make me half homosexual.”
“Who said your father was a homosexual?”
“You did.”
Jean looked at her daughter as though she was nuts. “I did not.”
Paige began to panic. Her mother really was losing her marbles. “You did. All afternoon you’ve been saying that my father was a fairy.”
Jean shook her head at her daughter’s stupidity. “Honestly, Paige, you’ve never listened to me, have you? I didn’t say your father was gay. I said he was a fairy. One of the little people that live under the hills in Cornwall.”
*
Paige’s hand shook as she knocked on Arley’s door. How cruel old age could be. Her mother had always been
the most sensible woman she’d ever met. For her to be reduced to this babbling, delusional creature was almost more than Paige could bear.
“Come in,” Arley called.
Paige entered the room and he waved her into a chair.
“So how did it go?”
“Not as well as I …” And with that Paige burst into tears. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I feel like I’ve been such a bother all day. But I’m dreadfully worried about her. She’s completely lost her mind.”
Arley pushed a box of tissues toward Paige and waited patiently for her to stop crying. Then, once her eyes were dry, he continued.
“What makes you think she’s lost her mind?”
“When she told me my father was—is—a fairy, she didn’t mean gay. She meant …” Paige’s eyes opened wide. “She believes he’s a fairy.”
Arley nodded. “Yes.”
“A fairy,” Paige said again.
“Right.”
“A fairy. As in pixies, goblins and fairies.”
“Three completely different races, but yes, I understand what you mean.”
Paige was bewildered. Arley either didn’t understand at all, or he didn’t think it was that shocking. “I think my mother has dementia,” she said.
“There’s only one way to find out,” he told her.
Paige nodded. A meeting with the doctor. A round of tests, no doubt.
Arley’s eyes twinkled. “You’ll have to find out if your father is alive.”
*
Paige spotted Eva at their regular table in the far corner of the small Indian restaurant. She still did a slight double-take when she saw her friend. Eva had only recently decided to stop dying her hair and embrace the gray. She now had a silver pixie cut that, if anything, made her even more beautiful. She was one of those knockout women at any age, with curves in all the right place, incredible eyes and cheekbones to die for.
Eva saw her and gave a wave. Here they both were well past middle age, yet Paige often felt like they were two kids, always so thrilled to see each other. She needed to see Eva tonight. She was so wound up about her mother.
Jean had been a devoted parent, but not a warm one. She’d always kept Paige at arm’s length. There were times Paige would catch Jean watching her and she’d have the strange feeling that the look in her eyes was one of regret. Their relationship was built on habit and responsibility rather than affection, but even so, she was filled with fear at the thought of her mum disappearing into the abyss of dementia. As frustrating as Jean could be, she was the only mother Paige had, and it was a comfort to know she was there.
Paige gave Eva a kiss and relaxed as she took off her coat. It was cold outside, but nice and warm in here.
Paige glanced at the menu. “Have you ordered for us?”
Eva nodded. “All sorted. Masala mushroom, aloo jeera and some samosas for starters. Now tell me about your mum.”
Paige gave her an update. She gave her all the details, including the bit about her father being a fairy and living in the hills of Cornwall. Eva nodded and asked a few questions, and a couple of times reached across the table and patted Paige’s hand.
“So have you spoken to Jean’s doctor?” Eva asked.
“No, Mum doesn’t want me to. She said children should only take over dealing with their parents’ doctors when those parents are in adult nappies.”
“She’s got a point. So what did this sexy physiotherapist say?”
“Did I say he was sexy?”
Eva laughed. “No, but I could tell you think it by the way you blushed when you said his name.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “I’m so pathetic.”
“Au contraire, my friend. It’s a charming quality, and I’m sure the physio agrees.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter how sexy he is, I think he’s as mad as my mother.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because his solution is for me to go and find my father.” She gave her friend a look that said, Can you believe it?
“Your real father who’s been dead for years, or the fake fairy one?”
“Arley says it won’t do any harm, and will show my mother that I’m supportive of her.”
“He has a point. I had an uncle with dementia and it’s incredibly hard to diagnose. They deteriorate so gradually, over time. And the early stage dementia patient can feel frightened by their lack of recall.”
“So you think I should follow his advice and go hunting for fairies?”
“Darling, what harm will it do?” Eva said.
“I have a bookshop to run.”
“I’m sure fairy hunting can take place outside of trading hours.”
Paige was quite surprised by her friend. “You don’t believe all that supernatural stuff, do you?”
Eva stared at the wall behind Paige for a moment. “I don’t know. Sometimes I have this overwhelming sense that Geoff is with me. Once or twice I’ve caught something in the corner of my eye, but when I’ve turned my head, nothing was there.”
Paige gave Eva’s hand a squeeze. They’d met not long after Eva’s husband had died, when Eva joined Paige’s book club, and had become fast friends.
“What surprises me each time is … how dreadfully disappointed I’ve been when I turn and nothing’s there. Like deep down I do believe Geoff’s spirit could drop by and comfort me. And here I was thinking I was a skeptic.” Eva blinked away the tears and smiled. “I don’t know what I believe anymore … but the world is a much nicer place with the possibility of magic. Don’t you think?”
“I’ve never thought about it. I just think what you see is what you get,” Paige said.
Eva nodded thoughtfully. “And I think that’s our problem.”
*
“Paige!”
Paige turned around the see Arley striding down the hall toward her. Her hand instinctively shot up to check her hair.
“I’ve been thinking about your mother,” Arley said.
I’ve been thinking about you, thought Paige, but nodded.
“Why don’t you drop by after you’ve seen your mum? I have someone you should talk to.”
“A specialist.”
Arley gave her a mysterious smile. “Yeah, she’s a specialist. In her field.”
Paige nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Arley cocked his head to the side. “By the way, your hair looks lovely today.”
Paige willed herself not to blush, and despised herself when she did. “Thank you. It’s nice of you to notice.”
She quickly turned and walked away toward her mother’s room. She prayed he wasn’t watching her. She felt almost certain that he was, but she’d rather eat bugs than turn around to see.
*
Paige was completely stunned to find her mother wearing lipstick. She couldn’t ever remember her mother wearing lipstick before.
“Where did you get a lipstick?” Paige asked.
“One of the nurses bought it for me.”
“I would’ve bought you some, Mum. All you had to do was ask.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, dear, but do you even know what lipstick is?”
Paige felt miffed. She knew she didn’t spend much time or money on make-up, but it wasn’t as though she made no effort at all. “I wear mascara,” she said, sounding slightly defensive.
“You do, and your eyes are all the better for it.”
“Mum, we need to speak. About what you told me yesterday.”
Jean glared at her daughter. “Fine … just don’t use that tone with me.”
“What tone?”
“The tone you’re using now. People use that tone with toddlers and dementia patients. And usually for the same reasons. They don’t want them throwing tantrums and soiling themselves.”
Paige readjusted her tone. At least, she hoped she did. “Okay, Mum—I’m sorry. But what’s this about my father being a fairy from Cornwall? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Very few things in lif
e do.”
“Mother, fairies aren’t real.”
“They are.”
“They aren’t.”
“Says who?”
“Says … I don’t know, me and every other sane person.”
Jean sighed. “You think I’ve gone mad. I can see it in your eyes. Alzheimer’s fear. You don’t want to look at me in case you fall into the same abyss.”
“You seem sane, Mum, but surely you can see the changes.”
“What changes?”
“The nail polish. The lipstick.”
Jean propped herself as high as she could and held her chin in the air. “I was quite a looker once, you know.”
“I’m not suggesting that you weren’t. Or aren’t.”
“I was the most stunning woman in Cornwall. And I have no problems admitting that. A man like your father would never ever cross over for anything but the best.”
Paige let her bulging eyes do the talking.
“After I left your father, I went into hiding. I don’t kid myself. He could’ve found me. But I made sure he wouldn’t want me. That man was like a drug … and the only way out was to go cold chicken.”
“Turkey.”
“What?”
“It’s cold turkey. Not cold chicken.”
“Whatever. To make the break, I made myself look … fowl.” Jean laughed at her own joke. “What’s up, you didn’t find that funny?”
“No, I didn’t,” snapped Paige. “I’m too busy trying to wrap my head around all this.” She massaged her temple. “So why the sudden change? Why now?”
Jean’s voice verged on hysterical. “Firstly, I’m sick of being a bloody frump. It’s not me, and it’s never been me. I miss dressing up. I miss it, I tell you.”
Paige was completely taken aback by her mother’s outburst. “Mum, I had no idea.”
“I did it to protect you. I don’t have to now. You’re old enough to know. And I’m old enough to wear lipstick again. Because quite frankly … even if your father walked through that door now, he wouldn’t look twice at me. I’m too old.”
Paige glanced over at the door. She couldn’t help herself.
“Don’t worry. He won’t walk through it.” Jean sounded disappointed.