Lilac Avenue

by Pamela Grandstaff

  “Did I tell you that Eugene O’Hare Jr. came to see me?” Claire asked.

  “I’m surprised he can go out in the daylight,” Maggie said. “I figured he was allergic to sunlight and fresh air.”

  “I hope you cut his hair,” Hannah said. “He looks like a serial killer.”

  “His mother wants to fix us up,” Claire said.

  “He lives in his mother’s basement,” Maggie said. “He still wears the same clothes he wore in high school.”

  “If you marry him, you’ll be Claire O’Hare,” Hannah said. “Has kind of a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Hair by Claire O’Hare.”

  “He gave me some very pretty rocks,” Claire said.

  “Engagement rocks,” Hannah said. “You’re betrothed now.”

  “I’m surprised that mother of his would let him out of her sight,” Maggie said.

  “I think she’s worried about what will happen to him after she dies,” Claire said.

  “I can tell you exactly what will happen,” Hannah said. “Eugene is going to sell everything and move to Brazil.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I asked him,” Hannah said. “He helped me remove a bat that was stuck in their chimney, and the whole time his mother was nagging at him to ‘be careful,’ and ‘remember your asthma,’ and so on. When I was leaving, I said, ‘I don’t know how you can stand it,’ and he said he just reminds himself that someday she will pass away and he can finally go to Brazil.”

  “Why Brazil?” Maggie asked.

  “Evidently that’s the best place to find geodes,” Hannah said. “He’s always wanted to live there.”

  Claire thought about the deep reservoir of dreams that existed in poor little Eugene Jr., like a butterfly in a chrysalis. You just never knew about people. They could be deeper and more romantic than you ever imagined.

  Claire was able to get the VCR hooked up to Maggie’s old box-shaped television, and the VHS tape did not break when she pressed play. Hannah handed Claire an orange soda, a bag of corn chips, and a jar of applesauce.

  “I remembered you used to like to dip your corn chips in applesauce,” Hannah said.

  “I haven’t eaten this since we were kids,” Claire said. “Yum!”

  Hannah dumped multiple bags of chips and pretzels along with assorted dips and candy bars onto the coffee table.

  “Did you get my root beer and chocolate cupcakes?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Hannah said.

  Hannah used a bottle opener to pry the cap off of on an old-fashioned glass bottle of cola and poured some salted peanuts in it.

  “Stop that, I mean it,” Maggie said.

  “Anybody want a peanut?” Claire said.

  “As you wish,” Maggie said.

  “Incontheivable,” Hannah said.

  “You keep using that word, but I don’t think you know what it means,” Claire said.

  Thus having used their favorite quotes from A Princess Bride, the three settled in to watch it for the eleventy-billionth time.

  When Hannah dropped Claire off at midnight, her stomach was roiling from the appalling combinations of food and drink she had consumed. She might have gotten away with the corn chips and applesauce, followed by a cinnamon roll and a bag of cheese popcorn, if multiple spoons full of brownie batter hadn’t also been involved. She barely made it to the bathroom before it all came back up. This time her mother heard her come in, and wet down a wash cloth for her before she sat on the edge of the tub.

  “Were you girls drinking?” Delia asked.

  Claire felt the same shame and embarrassment she had as a teenager when confronted with that same question. She wiped her face, which felt hot and was probably bright red.

  “Just junk food,” she said. “Things I haven’t eaten since I was a kid. Actually, all of the things I ever ate as a kid, consumed in one evening. I must’ve had an iron stomach back then.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  “I think they did,” Claire said. “For some reason it just made me sad.”

  “You’ve got a melancholy soul,” Delia said. “My father was the same way. Happy things always made him sad. He said everything reminded him of something he’d lost.”

  “What did he do when sad things happened?”

  “He always said, ‘I was afraid that would happen.’”

  “Sounds like charming company.”

  “He was also very sweet and affectionate. He was very sentimental, as you are, and had a very thin skin, as you do. He just felt things so deeply that life was very difficult for him.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “After my mother died, he pined for her something awful. I think he pined himself to death; he died a month afterward.”

  “I’d like to have someone to pine for,” Claire said.

  “Someone will come along,” Delia said. “You’re a kind, loving person, and someone will recognize that in you and fall head over heels.”

  “You know, I’m not really that nice,” Claire said. “I’m an awful hypocrite. I think the most horrible things about people, even when I know it’s wrong.”

  “It’s what you do that matters,” Delia said. “It’s your words and actions that count.”

  “I’m so tired of being alone,” Claire said. “I want somebody, but I’m so afraid to make another mistake.”

  “I know, honey,” Delia said. “You better get to bed, miss. You have a lot to do tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I know,” Claire groaned. “Why do I get myself involved in all these schemes?”

  “I think you must be bored without a lot to do,” Delia said. “You never could sit still as a child.”

  “Was your father like that, too?”

  “Heavens, no,” Delia said. “When he wasn’t working at the office, Dad was sitting in his chair on the porch, or his chair in the front room, smoking cigarettes and reading a book. No, in that respect you are just like me.”

  “I’m glad I’m like you,” Claire said. “I think you’re wonderful.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Delia said. “Now, brush your teeth and go to bed.”

  Claire, feeling very much like a twelve-year old who had stayed up too late at a slumber party, did as she was told.

  Chapter Seven - Friday

  By 6:00 the next morning, Claire was pacing the floor in the basement of the Eldridge Inn, waiting for the massage therapists to arrive. They had stayed the previous night in the Rose Hill Bed & Breakfast, where her cousin-in-law Ava was the proprietor.

  Joy had given Claire their new-hire paperwork, and per the head teapot’s instructions, they were not to touch one person before they signed the multi-page document. Claire had not signed hers, and didn’t plan to. There was a confidentiality clause in it, and she wasn’t about to fall for that after her experience with Sloan.

  She didn’t plan to work for Anne Marie one moment longer than she had already committed to, so she wouldn’t mind being fired. She wasn’t planning to pressure the massage therapists or Reiki Master to sign, either. She’d already paid them for their services using Jeremy’s credit card; they didn’t have anything to lose but the time it took to travel.

  Claire’s pacing had more to do with the fact that Carlyle had not called the night before, nor had he texted her. She was trying not to think about it, but it didn’t bode well. She turned her attention to the wedding plans, and found that there was nothing she could work on at the moment. She had delegated most of the remaining tasks to the wedding party, and just had to keep an eye on Hannah to make sure the music of Led Zeppelin didn’t accompany Maggie’s walk down the aisle.

  She ran upstairs to get a cup of coffee, and members of the kitchen staff were gossiping in the breakfast nook.

  “Meredith took ill last night,” the cook told her. “She had a headache, and one of Anne Marie’s staff members made her some tea, which I guess just about killed her.”

  “The tea made her sick?” Claire asked. “What was i
n it?”

  “Willow bark, they said,” one of the wait staff said. “Evidently, Meredith is allergic to aspirin, and willow bark is like aspirin in herbal form.”

  “You can’t go around drinking things just because someone tells you they’re natural,” the cook said. “Poison ivy’s natural, but you wouldn’t want it in your tea.”

  “Is there still some of that tea around?” Claire asked. “I’d like to smell it.”

  “That Joy person came around and gathered up all the herbal tea they brought,” the cook said. “Her face was as white as that outfit they’re all wearing. I guess they’re afraid Meredith will sue.”

  Claire went outside and called Scott on her cell phone.

  “You need to come over here to the Inn,” she said.

  “On my way,” he said.

  He met her out back. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, so Claire surmised he must be off work. She told him about Meredith and the tea.

  “Do you know if Mamie was allergic to aspirin?” she asked him.

  “She was on all kinds of medication,” he said. “And I know for sure one was for her heart.”

  “Could you get me the names of the medications?” Claire said. “I could look up the drug interaction warnings on the Internet. If we can get ahold of some of that tea and smell it brewed, I know I could tell you if that was the awful smell in Mamie’s house. I’ll never forget that smell.”

  Scott went back to the station to get the medication list and Claire found out from the desk clerk which room was Joy’s.

  “She asked me to get some paperwork out of there,” Claire told her.

  The woman, who had seen Claire working for Anne Marie all day the day before, handed her a room key without questioning her any further. It was that easy.

  Upstairs, Claire knocked on Joy’s door, but no one answered. She let herself into the room, saying, “Hello?” No one was there.

  She quickly surveyed the messy room. On the luggage rack was a box filled to overflowing with shrink-wrapped boxes of tea, all with the holographic heart logo on them. She dug through them until she found one called “Clear Mind, Healthy Heart” that had Willow Bark listed as the first ingredient.

  “For Aches and Pains of the Heart and Mind” it said on the label.

  Claire was headed for the door when she heard a key turn in the lock. She only had seconds to decide what to do, so she chose to drop and roll under the bed. Thank goodness there was enough clearance that she could wriggle underneath to the middle, where she was hidden on all sides by a long dust ruffle.

  “What are we going to do?” she heard Joy say.

  There was panic in her voice.

  “Well, the first thing you should do is calm down,” Jeremy said.

  “Meredith had not signed a release,” Joy said. “There was no reason to ask her to because she wasn’t attending the seminar.”

  “Who gave her the tea?” Anne Marie asked.

  “Birdie,” Joy said.

  “Where is Birdie now?”

  “She’s in her room, packing,” Joy said. “She’s so upset she’s quitting.”

  “She signed a confidentiality agreement when she was hired?” Jeremy asked.

  “She did,” Joy said.

  “Then let her go, but be sure to remind her of what the penalty would be if she were tempted to blab,” he said. “And if anyone asks who gave Meredith the tea, the only correct answer is that Meredith took it upon herself to try the tea. No one recommended it to her, and no one suggested she try it.”

  “I’ll let everyone know,” Joy said. “What if the attendees hear gossip about it?”

  “Calm down,” Jeremy said. “That’s why we have contracts and attorneys.”

  “I gathered up all the tea,” Joy said.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Anne Marie said. “That might indicate we think there’s something wrong with it. Put all the tea back out except the Willow Bark. I want all the Willow Bark tea destroyed and the boxes burned. If anyone asks, we don’t know which tea she drank.”

  “What about the Inn staff?” Jeremy asked.

  “I’ll have Gwyneth make them sign confidentiality forms. There will be no problem with that. She doesn’t need any bad press,” Anne Marie said. “The good news is everyone knows Meredith is certifiable. No one will believe her over us.”

  “Okay,” Joy said. “I just need to get the spa staff and Claire to sign their agreements and we’re all covered.”

  “See that it gets done immediately,” Anne Marie said. “I don’t want any more mishaps to ruin our weekend.”

  “I’m doing the best I can,” Joy said. “If you and Jeremy had warned me about Meredith, or had told me about hiring Claire …”

  “I think,” Anne Marie interrupted, “that maybe you need to step down and retrain, retake the basic courses. You’re obviously letting negativity control your reactive mind. That’s probably what’s drawing these dark forces to the ministry.”

  “No one works harder than I do,” Joy said.

  “That’s just it,” Anne Marie said. “It shouldn’t feel like work. If you were practicing what we teach, you would only feel the light flowing through you, and it wouldn’t take any effort at all.”

  Claire would have laughed in her face. She waited for Joy to detonate, but there was only silence. When Joy finally spoke, it was obvious she was crying.

  “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you,” Joy said. “Thank you for correcting me.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” Anne Marie said. “I am your shepherd, guiding the flock. Now, go on out there and see if you can’t do some damage control.”

  Claire could hear someone taking the big box of tea from the luggage rack, and wrestling it out the door; she assumed it was Joy. After the door closed behind Joy, Anne Marie sighed in a dramatic way.

  “She’s becoming a liability,” Anne Marie said.

  “She just needs a break,” Jeremy said. “These 72-hour weeks they’re working have them all on edge.”

  “That’s all I need,” Anne Marie said. “The state wage board will close us down if they find out about that.”

  “The work has to get done,” Jeremy said. “No one is forcing them to work extra hours; they just all happen to be martyrs for your cause.”

  “Well, they’re all starting to get on my nerves,” Anne Marie said. “I’d like you to get rid of Joy as soon as possible.”

  “I think if your next reading for her counseled that it was time she retire, she would resign on her own.”

  “No problem,” Anne Marie said. “Find out her dead husband’s name and I’ll have the message come from him.”

  “Will do,” he said. “Anything else?”

  “We need some young, positive, good-looking people to replace the menopause mafia,” Anne Marie said. “Why can’t we have more men? I think if we had a young, energetic staff and some good-looking men, we’d attract more fees, more bequests, more donations, and better publicity.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “I am so tired of having to be everything to everybody,” Anne Marie said. “No one understands the burden I carry. Being a conduit to the divine is exhausting.”

  Claire wanted to ask her why it didn’t just feel like light flowing through her with no effort at all. What a colossal piece of work this woman was.

  “Can we talk about the Cora Lamprey Show?” Jeremy said. “They need an answer ASAP so they can put you on the schedule.”

  “Are they willing to come to the ranch to do it?”

  “No,” he said. “Cora’s schedule won’t allow for the travel. You’ll fly to her and share the segment with Marion Katie and Kenneth Raniere.”

  “I don’t much like that lineup,” Anne Marie said. “Why can’t we be on with people like Deepak Chopra or Marianne Williamson? People with real credentials?”

  “I’m sorry to have to point this out, Anne Marie, but what are your credentials, exactly?”

 
“Excuse me?”

  “Listen,” he said. “You get on the Cora show and your business will explode. There’s no publicity we can buy that can match it. If Cora likes you, if you tell her what she wants to hear, what correlates with her brand message, and if the ratings are good, you could be her next pet project. She has a magazine and her own network. How would you like to have your own show? No more traveling, no more relying on post-menopausal minions. Now, wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “What’s her brand message?”

  “Unleash your potential.”

  “Well, that’s my message, too, Jeremy. I’m just using my gift, trying to help people live better lives.”

  “I know,” he said. “You’re a perfect fit.”

  “Tell them I’ll come,” she said. “But try to get me on first, before the other two drive off the audience with their crazy.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Have you heard from Courtenay?” Anne Marie asked.

  “No,” he said. “Why? Are you worried?”

  “It just seems strange that she’s disappeared all of the sudden,” Anne Marie said. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

  “She’s got some new boyfriend up at Glencora she’s shacking up with,” he said. “He’s keeping her busy, probably banging her brains out all day and night.”

  “What are we going to do about her?”

  “We could offer her a job; we need a replacement for Joy and then we’ll have a signed confidentiality agreement.”

  “I know why you’d like that,” Anne Marie said. “But I’m talking about a permanent solution to the problem. That’s what Knox wants, too.”

  “Let me handle Courtenay,” he said. “You worry too much; that’s what you have me for.”

  “Whatever you do, just don’t let it lead back to me,” Anne Marie said.

  A chill ran up Claire’s spine.

  “What you need is a massage and a margarita,” Jeremy said. “Why don’t you go have a lie down? As soon as the massage therapists arrive I’ll send one up.”

  “You’re so good to me,” Anne Marie said. “What would I do without you?”

  Evidently, that was a rhetorical question, because Jeremy didn’t answer and they left the room.