by Ginny Baird
“Tell you what,” he said kindly. “I’ll do my best to tackle things quickly. Hopefully, I’ll have you up and running here by this time tomorrow. And if it seems that service isn’t affected in your residential area, I’ll give you a call and get right on that too.”
“That would be great,” she said, writing down a number. “Better use my landline.”
After Lex left, Elizabeth sat at her desk to call Jerry. She couldn’t believe they had this old-school kind of telephone in here, the type with the round dial that clickety-clacked and spun around as you dialed each number. She’d tried to pick up a newer model in town, but no local stores carried that sort of thing. She would have had to drive seventy-five miles to the next larger town. And at this point, that hardly seemed worth it. She and Claire were already making up a list of all the modern-day provisions they would need. Things you couldn’t get in Blayton. They planned to make a road trip of it too. They just hadn’t set a precise date about when that might be.
Finally, Elizabeth seemed to be connecting. The ringing began as a distant tone beyond a crackling connection. She waited as the phone rang three, then four times. After the fifth ring, she was about to give up. Then Jerry answered at last.
“Jerry Walker,” he said in his matter-of-fact tone.
“Jerry! Thank God. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t—”
“Hello? Hello? Is somebody there?”
Elizabeth cradled the handset, drawing the mouthpiece toward her lips. “Jerry? Can you hear me?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, dismissing her. “Must be a bad connection.”
“Wait!”
But it was too late. Elizabeth already heard a dial tone.
She punched the disconnect button, then tried again, receiving no better results. Wonderful, she thought, staring at the antiquated piece of equipment. What do I do now?
“Can I help you with something?” Nathan asked, walking in. He’d apparently read her troubled expression.
Elizabeth was glad to see a friendly face. She was having a rotten day. “Communications issues,” she said, setting the handset back in its cradle.
“Phone’s not working?”
“Not getting through. To Richmond, I mean. I was trying to call my boss there, Jerry.”
“Maybe I can ask Lex to have a look at your connection.”
“Lex has already been by.”
“That’s great! You’ve got your Internet, then?”
Elizabeth frowned. “Not for another week or two. At best.”
“Ouch.” Nathan grimaced in understanding. “Aren’t you supposed to get that first edition out?”
“Guess it will have to be late.”
“Better late than never.” He shot her an encouraging smile. “Hey, I’ll tell you what. Let me get you out of here for a little while to brighten your mood.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Everything seems better after a hot Italian sub and french fries.”
Elizabeth’s stomach did a little rumble, and she realized for the first time that she’d skipped breakfast. She’d packed a bagel to eat at the office but had become so caught up in trying to work out communications issues with Lex, she’d completely forgotten about it. “Who serves that?”
“Small deli around the corner.”
“Sounds terrific.”
Claire walked to her locker to stow the books from her morning classes and retrieve the next set. It seemed an unnecessary inconvenience having to do this. Back in Richmond, kids didn’t even use their lockers. Everyone toted everything in the backpacks they kept perpetually slung over their shoulders. But Blayton High had a strictly enforced No Backpacks in the Classroom rule. This supposedly cut down on kids sneaking in cell phones. But seriously? With the awful cell service in this town, who was there to call? Claire laid her hand on the metal latch that opened her locker, but it appeared stuck. She tried it again—pushing harder. That’s weird. What’s going on?
Claire placed her books on the floor, then gave the handle a shove with both hands. Click. It popped open. But something pressed against the locker door from the inside. Something weighty bursting to get—
“Owww!” Claire shouted, bolting backward as a witch’s loud voice erupted in cackling laughter and a hellacious amount of stuff spilled forward: vampire teeth, fake spiders, ogling gooey eyeballs, and what’s that? An amputated foot all sprang from her locker and careened toward the floor. A crowd of teens quickly gathered to gawk at the mess on the floor and the interior of Claire’s howling locker that was draped in sticky cobwebs. Claire felt her face flash hot as others hooted and stared, and a host of Halloween sounds continued, ranging from a woman’s tortured cries to ghouls clanking chains. She set her jaw and drew a breath, willing herself not to acknowledge any of them. Instead, she calmly reached in the locker and pulled the tiny noise box from the joint below the locker’s hinge. Locating the switch, she turned it off, silencing the ghostly sounds.
At the far end of the hall, Melody and her friends backed around the corner in giggles.
“That was amazing,” Penelope proclaimed.
“Yeah,” Lilly agreed. “Awesome.”
Joy peered through the crowd at Claire, who seemed to reach up and wipe her cheek as she scooped her books off the floor. “Are you sure it wasn’t too much?”
“What are you doing, Joy?” Melody asked. “Wimping out on us?”
“No, it’s just that I didn’t expect so many others to show up.”
“All the better,” Melody quipped. “And to think, this was only Phase I.” She turned to the others with a grin. “Ready to get your spook on?”
Nathan set down his sub as Elizabeth bit into hers. Man, it was delicious. All hot and cheesy with heaps of meat, pickles, mustard, and mayo. Just the way she liked it.
“And so, I was thinking,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, “with the leaves turning and all, now might be a good time to take you up on the trail.”
“You mean into the Blue Ridge?”
“Shenandoah Parkway,” he explained. “Not much of a drive from here. Twenty minutes, tops. We can make it up and back in one afternoon.” He studied her with a smile, hazel eyes twinkling. “I could pack us a lunch. We’ll be back well before Claire gets home from school.”
Elizabeth sipped from her tea. “You mean, you want to go this week?”
“No time like Thursday.”
“Why Thursday?”
“Bernie’s taking over. It’s my full day off.”
“Not even on call?”
“Not even.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got to—”
“Sit around waiting for Lex to drop by? You can leave a key with Martha. She’ll let him in if you’d like.”
Elizabeth met Nathan’s eyes, which still were on hers. “You’re making it awfully hard to say no.”
“Precisely my intention.”
Elizabeth cocked her chin to the side, considering his offer. While she’d liked Nathan from the start, each time she was around him, she liked him even better. Plus, she was beginning to think that Claire was right. He must kind of like her to ask her on a hiking expedition. That went beyond friendly, in her book. Having lunch together in town was one thing. Being all alone out in nature…just the two of them…could spell something different. Something more like male-female interest. Elizabeth drew a deep breath, hoping she was ready for this. Then again, she knew she’d never forgive herself if she said no. Heck, Claire might not forgive her either. Her daughter’s words came back to her. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“How shall I dress for this day in the woods?”
His lips broke into a grin. “Sturdy shoes and jeans will do. You might want to pack a jacket in case it gets cool. I’ll bring the rest of it.”
When Claire burst through the front door later that afternoon, Elizabeth could have sworn it wasn’t her child but a wild tornado. “Claire?” she inquired as Claire dropped her bac
kpack to the floor and stormed up the stairs. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it!” the girl shouted, shutting her door. But her tone said something had gone very wrong indeed.
Elizabeth was just about to head upstairs after her when the doorbell rang. She peeked outside and saw it was Perry.
“Perry, what’s wrong? Did you and Claire have a fight?”
He thumbed his chest. “Me and…? No ma’am, not at all.”
“Then why…?” Her gaze traveled upstairs, where she could faintly hear Claire sobbing.
“Do you think it’d be all right if I talked to her?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to feel much like talking.”
Perry studied her with sincere brown eyes. “I think I might know a way to help.”
It took some coaxing, but after a short interval during which she washed her face and received a motherly hug, Claire finally came downstairs. Elizabeth left her to speak privately with Perry in the living room, and went to work on dinner.
Just when she thought things were going so well, something terrible seemed to have happened. Elizabeth was grateful at least that Perry hadn’t been part of it. Nathan had been right in his assurances about him. Perry was a good kid, and Elizabeth was glad he’d befriended her daughter. Sometimes all it took was one good friend to get you through the dark times. Elizabeth knew this from her own experience as a high school teenager. Like Claire, she’d been the new kid in town. Only her family had moved to Virginia from the North, making Elizabeth notable for her Delaware accent. She hadn’t even realized she had one until a mean clique of girls started teasing her about it. Betsy Jean had stepped in with her sassy Southern loudmouth, telling them all where they could go and what they could do with it. The fact that she’d said it in her deep Georgia drawl had lent it that much more punch.
Elizabeth married right out of high school, and Betsy Jean went away to college. They lost touch over the years, but in those early days, they’d stuck tightly together. Eventually, they’d become a popular duo in their own right, both working as co-editors of their high school yearbook and picking up several admirers. Although they’d each been picked on as newcomers in the school, both had made a pact to be nothing but kind to others, including to the kids who’d initially tormented them. This somehow turned everything around. And by the time Elizabeth and Betsy Jean graduated at the top of their class, no one could barely even remember the names of those other girls or whether they’d contributed anything significant to the school at all.
Elizabeth stared out her kitchen window at the empty house next door with a deep sense of sadness. She wondered what Betsy Jean was up to now, or if she’d ever have occasion to see her again. When Elizabeth married Cash, Betsy Jean had been her maid of honor. It was sad how lives and circumstances could drive close friends apart. But during the bitterness of Elizabeth’s divorce, she’d unintentionally become severed from everybody. Even though she’d moved two states away by then, Betsy Jean had tried to call—and to help. But Elizabeth had felt so closed in, the last thing she had the strength to do was reach out to a lifeline from far away.
Cash’s weekend binge drinking quickly morphed into full-scale alcoholism. Fearing for her baby’s safety, Elizabeth fled to a hotel with Claire more than once to avoid a drunken rage. The time Cash pulled out his baseball bat and started dismantling the nursery had been the final straw. This time when she left the house with Claire, Elizabeth had no intention of coming back. She’d tried to get Cash help and had attended meetings herself. But Cash wasn’t interested in giving any more than lip service to getting better. Largely because he didn’t believe he had a problem. Everybody had too much now and again. And so, yeah. Maybe he had a tiny temper. A temper that had cost him his job, and eventually his family. After the divorce went through, Cash left town and never returned. They’d all turned their backs on him, he’d said. Every last one of them. Nobody knew where he’d gone; not even his brother or aging parents had a clue. All they said they could do was pray for him to eventually turn his life around, though Elizabeth had given up on that prayer years before.
She felt something damp on her cheeks and realized she’d been crying. Weeping over so much time lost and the grief it had caused her baby girl. Elizabeth picked up a dishtowel to wipe her tears, knowing she’d done the right thing. The brave thing. And the best thing for her and little Claire. It hadn’t been easy getting by as a single mother. She’d worked days at a diner to put herself through night school so she could earn a journalism degree. But at least she could ensure a household that was safe and sane for the two of them. For the first few years after the divorce, she’d lived in fear that Cash might come storming back. Break into the house some evening in a drunken fit and threaten them both. But that worry eased with each passing season. And now it was fall. Elizabeth watched as the last of the golden-brown leaves spiraled to the ground from the towering oak next door. Autumn, the season that signaled the ending of summer and the ushering in of colder days. But somehow here, in Blayton, Elizabeth knew that she and Claire would stay safe and warm. For there was nothing better than being where you were meant to be. In some strange way, Elizabeth felt as if someone had preordained it. Although she hadn’t known it existed until a few short weeks before, Blayton, Virginia already seemed like home. For home was where the heart was, and, after so many years in tumult, Elizabeth’s heart was finally starting to feel at peace.
Perry sat next to Claire on the sofa. “I mean it,” he told her firmly. “I think it will work.”
Claire stared at him in disbelief. “So, what? I should just walk straight up and ask her?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you being so mean to me?”
“What’s she going to say?”
“Some excuse.”
“There is no excuse, and you know that. That’s why I’m saying you should do it. Call her on it.”
“I don’t know, Perry. That sounds…”
“What?”
“Like a long shot.”
“Okay, then take the other route.”
“Reporting her to the principal? I don’t think so. That will only backfire on me.”
“It could.”
“Besides. I really have no proof it was her.”
“But you know it was her. So do I.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like she left fingerprint evidence.”
“Maybe she did.”
Claire laughed. “Come on, Perry. This isn’t some crime show. It’s Blayton High!”
He hung his head. “You’re right.” But when he looked up, he was grinning. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
Claire sat up a little straighter on the sofa, feeling her confidence surge. “I might.”
“It will work. I’ll guarantee it.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Well, then, what will you have lost?”
“A lot of face, probably. Like this one here,” she said, patting her left cheek. “And my better side here,” she said, patting her right.
Perry surprised her by leaning forward and giving her a quick peck on her cheek. Her skin flashed hot, tingling from the sweet pressure of his lips. Claire had never kissed a boy before and certainly had never had one kiss her. Even on the cheek!
“Perry! What was that for?”
“Well, if you’re going to lose it…” he said, drawing out the words, “I thought I should probably get a little sample first.”
Claire burst out laughing. “You’re bad.”
“Nope. I’m actually pretty good. One of the best guys at school.”
Claire blushed. “All right. I’ll give you that.”
“I’m proud of you, Claire.”
“Proud?”
“Look at you, walking into a new school. Putting up with those bullies. Not just putting up. Pushing back.”
Claire crossed her arms in front of herself. “You really know how to put the pressure on.”
“I know.”
She surveyed him a lingering moment. “What makes you want to be so nice to me?”
“No special reason… Other than you’re probably the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”
Claire’s pulse raced and little butterflies flitted all about in her stomach. “Really?”
He leaned toward her with a soft whisper. “Really.”
Claire pressed her palm to his chest and pushed him back. “You’d better leave before you kiss me again.” Steam rose from her cheeks. “Or I kiss you… Or yeah… Something.”
Perry cocked his chin with a smile as Elizabeth peered into the room. “Everything okay in here?”
“Um-hum, yeah,” both of them said, scooting apart and sitting up straighter.
“Good,” Elizabeth chirped, glancing from one to the other. “Just checking.”
Chapter Six
A few days later, before the first bell, Claire steeled her nerves. You can do this. Yeah, sure. If Perry thinks you can do it, you can. Melody and her friends gathered outside the cafeteria, swapping jokes by the soda machine. Claire steadied the backpack on her shoulder and trudged ahead, mentally rehearsing what she would say. But the moment Melody turned her cold blue stare on her, the script flew out the window.
“Ah, can I talk to you a minute?”
The blonde angled toward her and puffed out a word. “Boo!”
The girls around her laughed.
“I meant, alone.”
Melody raised her brow. “Well, well. Look who’s not afraid.”
“We’ll see about that,” Penelope sneered.
“Yeah,” a shorter girl added.
Joy’s lips twisted in a frown. “Why don’t you hear her out?”
