“Then I’d hate to hear how you talk about your enemies,” Claire said.
“I’m just a-telling you all this so you can warn Kay,” Pudge said. “My wife tried to talk to her this evening but she won’t listen.”
“Warn her about what?”
“That rich harpy she’s a-runnin’ against has started spreading the lies far and wide,” he said. “She as much as accused Kay of murder.”
Sam and Ed walked in together, and Claire took a pitcher of beer and three glasses to their table. Sam, an Iraqi war vet turned technology genius with recurring PTSD issues, had the usual inscrutable expression on his face, but Ed looked worried.
“I’ve been calling you all evening,” Ed said.
“My phone ringer must be off,” Claire said.
That wasn’t true; she’d just been ignoring his calls.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” he said.
“Excuse me,” Sam said, and went up to the bar.
“Go ahead,” Claire said.
“I’m sorry I ran off right after dinner,” Ed said. “Something came up.”
“No problem,” Claire said. “I wanted to talk to Kay.”
“Eve’s in town,” he said. “You remember me saying she’s doing a story on the federal investigation.”
“I do remember,” Claire said. “I also remember you saying you were going to have Sean draw up your divorce papers so she could sign them when she got here.”
“Something’s happened,” Ed said. “There’s no easy way to tell you this …”
The door opened and Eve walked in. She was pretty and petite, with expertly streaked blonde hair, outfitted in a fashionable ensemble perfectly proportioned to her figure, except for the pronounced baby bump she was sporting out in front.
“No need to,” Claire said.
Eve lit up at the sight of Ed, who jumped up to pull a chair out for her. She made a show of kissing his cheek and then wiping away the lipstick in a very familiar manner. She barely glanced at Claire, but waved at Patrick and smiled as if they were the best of friends.
“Good to see you,” she called out to Patrick. “We need to catch up later.”
“Eve, you remember Claire,” Ed said.
Claire did not offer to shake hands and neither did Eve.
“Nope, sorry,” Eve said. “It’s been a long time since I was in Rose Hill.”
She said the name of the town in the same way one might say, “Alcatraz.”
“Congratulations,” Claire said.
Eve reached out and squeezed Ed’s hand.
“We’re so excited,” she said.
“It’s such a surprise, Claire said. “I didn’t know you two were back together.”
“Back in March,” Ed said, “when I took Tommy to see his mother in Florida, we had a layover in Atlanta.”
“I can see that,” Claire said.
Sam came back to the table, sat down, saw where Eve’s hand was, and his eyebrows went up.
“I need your team names,” Patrick called out.
“Team Tardis,” Professor Richmond said.
“Cop, Doc, and Pole,” Laurie said.
“What about you guys?” Patrick called out to Claire.
No one spoke. Eve was looking at Ed, Ed was looking at Claire, and Claire was looking at Sam.
“Team Awkward,” Claire finally responded.
Sam, who was taking a sip of beer, choked on it, and Claire patted his back.
Team Cop, Doc, and Pole won, Team Tardis got loudly drunk, and Team Awkward lived up to its name. Now, after the game, Laurie was playing the old upright piano, leading the professors in singing a Monty Python song about lumberjacks. Arwyn and Drew were acting cozy in a corner, and Patrick was collecting his cut of the bet money from the locals.
Ed and Eve had departed as soon as the game was over. Claire, who had succeeded in not looking at either one of them since Eve put her hand over Ed’s, could feel herself relax as soon as they were gone.
“Surprising turn of events,” Sam said.
“Not for me,” Claire said. “I’m used to men promising one thing and doing another.”
“You’ve had a little too much to drink,” Sam said. “Come on and let me walk you home.”
“Piss off, you,” Claire said. “I don’t need some man to take care of me.”
“Be careful, Claire,” Sam said, put a twenty on the table, and left.
Laurie immediately slid into the vacant chair to the left of Claire. Claire looked around to find Professor Richmond had taken his place at the piano, and was playing what sounded like a Cole Porter tune.
“You’re either the most open-minded person I’ve ever met,” Laurie said, “or your definition of an exclusive relationship needs to be revised.”
“There is no relationship between Ed and me,” Claire said, “if there ever was.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” Laurie asked.
“You can buy me many drinks,” Claire said. “You can buy me all the drinks.”
Laurie went to the bar and returned with a tray bearing six shots of whisky and a fresh pitcher of beer.
“On the house, your bar-keeping cousin says.”
“He’s a man among men,” Claire said. “Despicable, horny men who can’t keep it in their pants, but I love him, nonetheless.”
“Bottoms up,” Laurie said.
Although Claire tipped up a shot glass and swallowed the fiery liquid, she noticed Laurie did not.
“On the wagon?” she asked.
“I’m working the early shift tomorrow,” he said.
After three shots, Claire was ready to unburden herself, and told him everything that had happened since she quit her job working for movie star Sloan Merryweather and moved back to Rose Hill. The whole time, Laurie tended to her shot glasses and kept the pitcher filled.
“So this thing with Ed’s wife happened before you came back to stay.”
“He’s Tommy’s guardian,” Claire said. “Melissa was in prison down in Florida …”
“For kidnapping him as an infant from his drug-addicted mother and assuming her identity,” Laurie said. “Patrick filled me in.”
“Yes,” Claire said. “She served three years of a ten-year sentence, and Ed took Tommy down there to see her one weekend every month.”
“So you immediately suspect that Eve was already pregnant and just needed to hook up with Ed to make it seem like it might be his.”
“Yes!” she said. “They hadn’t been together for ten years. Why now, all of a sudden?”
“I admit it does get my spidey senses tingling.”
“It’s just like him to take whatever she says at face value,” she said. “He’s so …”
“Stupid? Thick-headed? Slow-witted? Moronic?”
“Shut up,” she said. “He’s too trusting, is all. He thinks the best of people. It’s a good quality; it just gets him in situations like this.”
“Name another situation he’s been in that’s like this.”
“He got involved with Melissa, who’s actually always been in love with Patrick. She wanted to get married and have a father for her kid, and Patrick was in love with someone else, so she seduced Ed.”
“I’ve met Melissa,” he said. “I can see the appeal.”
“But she’s all wrong for Ed, and didn’t love him.”
“I have to speak up for the rest of my brethren to say Ed is not the first man to be blinded by lust, nor will he be the last.”
“He knew it was not going to work out but did it anyway because it was what she wanted.”
“Poor old Ed, at the mercy of the wicked womanly wiles of your underhanded gender.”
“He’s kind of naïve.”
“I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Laurie said. “Ed’s not stupid, he’s just human. It’s you who always thinks the worst of everyone.”
“I do not,” she said.
“Ah, but you do,” he said. “I’ve done nothing to deserve
the continual mistreatment you dish out, and yet, you cannot stop lambasting me with your bitter misgivings.”
“Because you’re an alcoholic in denial,” she said. “Being in a relationship with an addict is like watching a slow motion suicide.”
“Dammit, woman,” Laurie said. “I demand that you be married to me for at least two years before you speak to me like that.”
“It’s true,” she said. “Don’t deny it. It’s like your self-destruct button is stuck in the on position.”
“What you need are more drinks,” Laurie said. “You’ll like me much better in a little while; just wait and see.”
They continued talking, and Claire continued drinking. When Patrick called time at 1:30, Claire was feeling more than a little fuzzy-headed. Parts of her were actually numb; not the lusty, romantic parts, but for sure the thinking clearly parts.
“Why was I mad at you again?” she asked Laurie.
“You aren’t mad at me,” he said. “You’re mad at yourself for liking me so much but being so mean to me.”
“That sounds true,” she said. “I do like you and I can be mean.”
“I knew it was just a matter of a few more shots,” he said. “Now we’re friends again.”
Patrick picked up their glasses and wiped the table.
“Time to go, folks,” he said. “Unless you’re helping me mop.”
“Nope, not tonight,” Claire said.
She attempted to stand but the room whirled.
“Whoa, there, young lady,” Laurie said. “I think you need to get home to bed.”
“If you wait around I’ll walk you home,” Patrick said to Claire.
“I’ll take her,” Laurie said.
“All right,” Patrick said. “You know she’s my cousin, right?”
“And her pop’s a cop,” Laurie said. “Don’t worry; I’ll see that she comes to no harm.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Claire said to Laurie.
“Fine with me,” Laurie said.
When Claire awoke, through one squinted eye she could detect that she was not in her own bed, and upon opening the other eye, which had a hard time coordinating with the first, she ascertained she was not in her parents’ house. Upon further investigation, she found she was not wearing her own clothes, nor, as it turned out, anyone else’s.
She attempted to turn her head, which felt as if someone inside it was using a sledge hammer to try to escape. Very carefully, she turned over, and found Laurie sleeping next to her.
“Oh, crap,” she croaked.
The digital alarm clock on his bedside table displayed 7:15 a.m.
“Oh, no,” she said
She slithered out of bed and landed on the floor with a thump.
She used the edge of the night table to get to her feet. Steadying herself against the wall, she wobbled over to the bedroom door, took a flannel robe off a hook, and put it on.
“Good morning,” Laurie said.
Claire felt the contents of her stomach rise, but thankfully made it to the bathroom before everything exited the way it had come in.
Seated on the cool tile floor with the commode lid as a headrest, Claire frantically searched her memory for a timeline of the previous evening’s events.
It was no use.
Even thinking hurt.
“Here,” Laurie said.
He was wearing sweat pants and nothing else.
He handed her a glass of water and what looked like two aspirin. He then sat on the edge of the tub and regarded her with affection.
“I called Melissa,” he said. “She stayed with your Dad last night, and took him to work at the bakery this morning.”
“He’ll be worried,” she said. “He doesn’t like any change in his routine.”
“She said he’s fine,” he said. “Ed picked him up at the bakery and took him to breakfast. No harm done.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“No point in regretting anything,” he said, “when there’s nothing to regret.”
“I was naked in your bed,” she said.
“You threw up all over your clothes,” he said. “I washed them; they’re in the dryer.”
“They’re dry clean only,” she said. “You may as well have set them on fire.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think of that.”
“You didn’t have any pajamas you could lend me?”
“I did offer,” he said. “You refused.”
“You could have slept on the couch,” she said.
“I wanted to be nearby in case you got sick again,” he said. “Anything happens to you, I’d have three burly Irishmen busting my kneecaps with their shillalies.”
“That’s offensive,” she said. “For sure there were no shenanigans?”
“If I’ve learned anything over the past two years, it’s not to have intimate relations with pretty drunken ladies, no matter how ardently they insist.”
“I insisted?”
“Avidly,” he said. “I was as surprised as I was flattered.”
“Sorry.”
“In all honesty, the smell of whiskey and beer vomit is not the aphrodisiac it’s claimed to be.”
“Kill me now,” she said.
“I’d rather draw you a nice hot bath and scrub your back,” he said. “Alas, I will be late for work if I don’t shower and get out of here in the next twenty minutes.”
“Do you mind if I stay here?” she said. “I don’t think everything’s out yet.”
“Be my guest,” he said, and stood up.
He hooked his thumbs in the elastic waist of his sweatpants.
“Don’t peek,” he said. “I know how you beauticians are.”
Claire lay her head back down on her arms and closed her eyes. After Laurie had showered, shaved, and vacated the bathroom, Claire dragged herself into the shower and hoped the hot water could somehow rinse away the events of the previous evening.
Once out of the shower, Claire got dressed in the same bathrobe, because her clothes were now shrunken rags, and not in the cool Bohemian sense. She was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking black coffee, and toying with a dry piece of toast, when she heard her phone ringing. She followed the noise to where she’d dropped her purse, in the foyer. It was Ed. She let it go to voicemail.
She called Melissa at the bakery.
“You ornery catbird,” Melissa said. “I don’t blame you; that was one awful thing Ed done to you, and that Laurie’s a sweetie.”
“Who all knows?”
“Everybody who was still in the bar knows you left with him,” Melissa said, “but only me and Patrick know you didn’t come home last night. I swore him to secrecy, and he can keep a secret if’n I make him.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t call,” Claire said. “Laurie said he talked to you.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it none,” Melissa said. “You been due a night to cut loose so I was glad to help out. Me and your dad played checkers and watched big time wrasslin’. Why don’t you let me stay with him every night this week so you can enjoy yourself?”
“I appreciate that, Melissa, thank you. Right now I’m hoping you’ll do me another favor,” Claire said. “My clothes and shoes from last night are ruined; could you bring me something to wear?”
“Where are you?”
“Laurie’s staying at Scott’s house while Scott and Maggie are on their honeymoon.”
“I’ll put yer clothes in a garbage bag and leave ’em on the back porch,” Melissa said. “That way maybe the neighbors won’t see.”
“Thank you,” Claire said. “I owe you so big.”
“No biggie,” Melissa said. “Just tell me, what’s Ed’s excuse for knockin’ up his ex-wife?”
Claire told Melissa what she knew.
“I don’t know anything else about it,” Claire said. “I hadn’t come back to Rose Hill yet, so it’s not like he was cheating on me. It was probably just one of those things that happens. Sex with an ex.”
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“It might not even be his,” Melissa said.
“That’s what I think.”
“I hardly know the woman,” Melissa said, “but Patrick said she hit on him real hard way back when she first moved here with Ed. He said he weren’t the only one, neither. I kinda doubt she’s been going without all these years. Ed may not be that baby’s daddy, but it might be better for her to say he is.”
“If the real father’s married, or her boss.”
“She’s a fancy news reporter now; thinks she’s famous ’cause she’s on the TV,” Melissa said. “It would probably be better if the baby’s daddy was the man she was married to instead of whatever gray cat she done hooked up with.”
Melissa dropped off a most interesting ensemble that Claire would not have put together, but she could hardly complain. After she got dressed, Claire put her previous night’s clothes in the same bag and stuffed them in the garbage can on her way out the back door, where she immediately ran into Pudge’s wife, Ruthie Postlethwaite. Ruthie was walking their little dog up the alley, almost as if she had been doing so repeatedly in order to catch Claire leaving the house.
“Good morning,” Ruthie said with a smirk. “Late night last night?”
“Yep,” Claire said, as she felt her face flush. “I guess Pudge told you.”
“He said you really tied one on,” Ruthie said. “I guess I can’t blame you after finding out about Ed’s wife that way.”
“Oh, I knew he was married,” Claire said. “Ed and I were only ever just friends.”
“Kind of like you and Chief Purcell are friends?”
“No matter what it looks like, we’re just friends,” Claire said. “I had a little too much to drink last night, and Chief Purcell looked after me, that’s all.”
“He’s married, too, I guess you know.”
“Nope, he’s divorced now,” Claire said.
“Well, that’s a sight better,” Ruthie said. “Although it doesn’t look too good, you sneaking out the back door like that.”
“Then I’ll just have to count on you not to spread gossip about me,” Claire said. “On account of there’s nothing going on.”
Ruthie lifted an eyebrow but did not affirm that intention.
“I guess you heard all about Diedre disappearing,” she said instead. “The police are involved now.”
Hollyhock Ridge Page 6
