The Red Hat Society's Acting Their Age

Home > Other > The Red Hat Society's Acting Their Age > Page 9
The Red Hat Society's Acting Their Age Page 9

by Regina Hale Sutherland


  As it turned out, Leanne’s big hair was her only beauty flaw of any consequence since, “That went out, like, with the dinosaurs. Even in Texas.”

  Close to midnight, wearing pajamas and stuffed with brownies, popcorn, and hot chocolate, Mia sprawled at one end of the couch while Leanne sprawled at the other. They cheered Aggie on as Rachel taught the older woman hip-hop dance steps to the rap music blaring from the living room stereo.

  Mia listened to Rachel’s laughter, noted the sparkle in her eyes. Eyes that, only yesterday, had looked dull and lifeless and lost.

  “What are you thinking?” Leanne asked, scooting closer to Mia’s end of the couch.

  “I’m thinking Aggie better stick to square dancing.”

  Aggie jerked and gyrated in her fuzzy pink house shoes, singing, “Whoop, whoop . . . Whoop, whoop . . .”

  Leanne stifled a laugh. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “I know it isn’t.” Mia faced her. “I’ve decided to tell Cade the truth tomorrow. I’m afraid to, but I’m at a loss. We’ll just have to trust him to do what’s in Rachel’s best interest. He’s a good man. He must know something about kids. He raised two boys who seem to respect him and enjoy his company.”

  Mia had seen Cade shopping with his sons in town over the holidays, laughing and joking with one another. Watching them, her heart had ached over the fact that her own sons no longer had their father’s companionship, and that her relationship with her daughter wasn’t a close one.

  “I talked to Mack today,” she said, her gaze on Rachel. “I think he’s wavering about pressing charges. And Jesse’s a soft heart. I bet if Rachel returned those boots, she’d change her mind, too.”

  “You’re making the right decision, Mia. What’s the alternative? Raise her on the sly until she’s of age?”

  Mia sighed. “I’m just sorry I got you and Aggie into this. Hiding Rachel was a knee-jerk reaction on my part. She brings back all the stuff from when Christy ran off, you know?”

  “I understand. I went along with it because she brought back my past, too. You want me to go with you tomorrow when you tell Cade about her?”

  The song on the stereo ended just as Leanne asked the question, and Rachel jerked her head in their direction, having heard Leanne’s words. “You’re going to tell him?” She blinked back tears. “I knew I shouldn’t have believed you.” She looked from Mia to Leanne, then at Aggie beside her. “I’m so retarded.”

  As Rachel darted toward the door, Aggie ran after her. “Rachel . . .” Aggie caught the girl in a hug.

  Rachel’s arms remained pressed to her sides. “I’ll go to jail,” she choked out.

  Over Rachel’s shoulder, Aggie blinked teary, confused eyes. “Nobody’s taking you to any jail. I won’t let them.”

  “The sheriff told us stealing those things in town made for your third strike,” Mia said. “A judge could put you in a juvenile placement facility if the merchants press charges, but those aren’t anything like the jails you’re picturing.”

  “How do you know?” Rachel stepped from Aggie’s embrace. “That’s not what Pam and Ricky said. I knew someone who went to juvy and it wasn’t like Pam described. But when I told her that, she said there’s different kinds, depending on what you did wrong. She said sometimes all the girls have to shower together, just like prisons in the movies. And they lock you into a cell at night.”

  “I used to be a teacher.” Disgust for Pam Underhill tinged Leanne’s voice. “I’ve toured the Amarillo facility and Pam’s wrong. It’s no hotel, mind you. You don’t want to spend time there if you can avoid it.”

  “Since you’re so afraid of it, honey,” Mia asked, “why do you keep breaking the law? Stealing things and drinking and running away?”

  “I don’t drink. I was only trying a beer at a party. So what? I wanted to make friends, but then the cops came and busted everybody.” Rachel sank to the floor, crossed her legs, and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know why I steal things. I took the food because I was hungry. But the boots . . . I just liked them. And I told you why I ran. They locked me out. Pam hit me. It wasn’t the first time, either. She hit me any time I made her mad, which was a lot. Pam went to work at the furniture store and Ricky would go to his job, and I was stuck at home taking care of the house and everything else they told me to do, or else. Just like stupid Cinderella.” The words tumbled out of her like rocks in a landslide.

  Aggie sat on the floor beside Rachel. Mia scooted to the edge of the couch. Leanne stood and started to pace.

  “Why didn’t you tell us before that she hit you more than that one slap?” Mia asked. Not that a slap wasn’t bad enough.

  “I don’t know.” Rachel looked up at them, mascara streaking her cheeks. “You want me to prove it?” Standing, she lifted the hem of the gown Mia had loaned her. She pulled up the elastic around one panty leg. Bruises covered her bottom.

  Tears burned Mia’s eyes. Anger ignited in her chest.

  Aggie’s intake of breath was sharp and loud. “Oh, you poor girl.” She pressed a palm against her chest.

  “Why didn’t you call your caseworker, Rachel?” Mia asked.

  “They’d just put me with some other stupid family. I’d have to get used to things all over again. It never works. Even when they’re nice to me. Something always happens and I get dumped.” She lowered the gown and turned away. “I’d rather be on my own.”

  Trembling inside, Mia looked from Aggie to Leanne. In their faces she saw the same certainty she felt in her heart. Rachel spoke the truth.

  They couldn’t confide in Cade. Not now. Not yet. No matter how compassionate toward the girl he might feel, he was an officer of the law, sworn to follow the rules. He would have to turn Rachel over to the proper authorities and ask questions later. No time would be taken first to gather evidence that proved Rachel had been forced into a situation where running away and stealing had seemed her only options for survival.

  Quiet tension radiated from Leanne. “Does anyone else know what Pam did to you, Rachel?”

  “Only one girl. This skank from my school named Lacy Oberman.”

  Aggie flinched. “Rachel.”

  “Well, she is a skank. She acts like I eat toe jam for breakfast or something.”

  “How does she know Pam hit you?” Leanne prodded.

  “Our teacher put us together to work on a project. Otherwise, Lacy would’ve never spoken to me. She thinks she’s all hooty hooty and I’m nothing.” Rachel wiped her eyes on her hand, smearing the mascara more. “When she came to my house to do homework? She saw Pam hit me. So did her mom. Pam didn’t know they were there until she’d already slapped me.”

  Leanne kept pacing. “Do you know Lacy’s mother’s name?”

  “No.” Rachel shook her head. “But the next day at school? Lacy pretended to be really nice to me. She asked if Pam had hit me before and I showed her some bruises. Pam only left marks in places she thought nobody would see.” Rachel’s face hardened. “After I showed Lacy? She, like, told the whole stupid school.”

  Mia cleared her throat, hating the humiliation Rachel had suffered. Hating the shame she’d been made to feel for something that wasn’t her fault. Hating Pam Underhill most of all. “You said Pam works at a furniture store?”

  Sniffing, Rachel said, “Yeah.”

  “Does she work Sundays?”

  “Most of the time.”

  Mia turned the situation over in her mind. “Okay, we’ll wait a while before talking to Cade.” She stood and crossed to Rachel, put an arm around her shoulder. “Why don’t you go wash your face? Then we’ll watch that movie Leanne brought, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her tiny body trembled beneath Mia’s embrace.

  When Rachel left the room, Mia faced the other women.

  “I need a smoke,” Leanne said, but made no move to go into the kitchen where she’d left her purse.

  “I’m driving to Amarillo tomorrow to pay Rachel’s foster mother a visit at t
hat furniture store.” The coffee shop was always closed on Sundays. Mia could think of more enjoyable ways to spend her day off but, right now, nothing seemed more urgent than meeting Pam Underhill face-to-face.

  “I’ll go with you.” Aggie’s voice shook with rage.

  “What are you two planning?” Leanne finally sat down. “A lynching?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Aggie said. “Roy has a rope in the barn that’d be perfect for the job. And I know just the rafter to use, too.”

  “We can’t say anything to tip the woman off about Rachel,” Mia said to Aggie. “No accusations, no hints, nothing like that.”

  Leanne crossed her arms. “Then what’s the point?”

  “You said yourself that kids like Rachel say whatever it takes to win a person over, Leanne.”

  “That’s true. But this time, I believe her.”

  “Surely you do, too, Mia.” Aggie shuddered. “You saw the bruises.”

  “I do believe her,” Mia said. “But hiding an underage fugitive is no small thing. If we don’t play this right, we could be the ones who go to jail.”

  “You have a point,” Leanne conceded after a moment. “Guess it won’t hurt to make sure her story still rings true after meeting the foster mother.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Mia said.

  Leanne sighed. “Okay, I’ll go along, too. It’s going to take some doing. Eddie already thinks something’s going on with me. When I told him I was spending the night over here, he didn’t give me a chance to explain before he got all bent out of shape.”

  Mia frowned. “You sure you want to add fuel to that fire? It’s okay if you don’t go.”

  Leanne shook her head. “He probably won’t be at home much tomorrow, anyway. While y’all are at the furniture store, I’ll stay at the mall with Rachel and help her pick out some of the things she needs.” She blinked at Aggie and added, “And bring that sewing machine over when you get the chance. If she’s going to be around for a while, I might as well start teaching her to sew. It will give her something to do.”

  Mia smiled at Leanne. “Good idea.”

  “I’m also going to call a lawyer friend of mine in Amarillo and make an appointment to see him next week,” Leanne continued. “Jay will answer my questions about Rachel’s situation without asking too many of his own, if you know what I mean. I trust him.”

  Cold all of a sudden, though the house was warm enough, Mia said, “Eventually, we’ll still have to trust Cade with this, too, though.”

  “Not until we do whatever’s necessary to make sure Rachel’s case is taken seriously.” Aggie lifted her “old lady” glasses and wiped her eyes. “I’m not gonna let that girl slip through the cracks. If some judge locks her away, they’re gonna have to take me with her.”

  Mia looked from one friend’s determined face to the other. “I think that makes three of us, Ag.”

  Chapter 9

  Mia hated malls almost as much as she hated mornings. But her shopping companions felt altogether differently.

  By two o’clock on Sunday afternoon, Aggie was the happy new owner of two pairs of curve-hugging stretch jeans—one denim, the other khaki—and a pair of tiny, red-framed reading glasses to wear with her contact lenses. Following Rachel’s advice, she’d worn them today.

  Leanne had purchased two pairs of shoes, made a haircut appointment for later in the day at Reynaldo’s Salon and had scored and turned down two coffee invitations from men she met while window shopping at Victoria’s Secret.

  Mia, however, had only acquired a tension headache from looking over her shoulder every five minutes. In spite of the drastic change in Rachel’s appearance and the fact that so far, no one had given them so much as a curious glance, she worried someone might recognize the girl.

  “Now that you’ve shopped them into shape,” Mia told Rachel, “Leanne can help you pick out a few things.” So many people crowded the food court she almost had to shout to be heard over the laughter, chattering, and crying of babies. The place smelled of spilled sticky-sweet drinks and stale corn dogs.

  Rachel popped a French fry into her mouth. “What about you?”

  “Hey, my nails are purple.” Mia wiggled her fingers in the air. “That’s a start. You’ll have to ease me into this makeover thing. I don’t do change easy.”

  “Mia and I are going to run an errand while you and Leanne shop,” Aggie told the girl, sounding upbeat. “We won’t be long.”

  Rachel stopped chewing and frowned, shifting her attention between each of the three women. “You aren’t going to see my caseworker, are you?”

  Smiling, Mia shook her head. “I told you we wouldn’t.” Last night’s incident had shaken the girl’s trust in them. It wasn’t the first time today Rachel had expressed fear about the caseworker. And, twice, she had required assurance that they wouldn’t confide in Cade.

  “We just have a couple of things to take care of here before we head back to Muddy Creek,” Aggie explained, reaching into her purse when her cell phone rang. She pulled the phone out and answered it. “No, Roy,” she said. “We’re still in Amarillo. You’ll have to fix your own lunch. I’ll be home around six.”

  Mia and Leanne exchanged smiles before Mia checked her watch. “Aggie and I will meet you two at Reynaldo’s in an hour.” She narrowed her eyes at Leanne. “Don’t go too crazy, okay?”

  Leanne feigned offense. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re splitting this bill. Besides, I can bargain shop if I have to.”

  “Right.” Mia nodded at the boxes on the floor beside Leanne’s chair. “I saw what you spent on those shoes.”

  Aggie turned away from the table, the phone still pressed to her ear. “No, Roy,” she said with quiet exasperation. “We can’t come home earlier. We still have shopping to do . . . no, I’m not spending all your money. Go tinker around in the barn or something. I’ll be home before you know it.” Ending the call, she faced them again and returned the phone to her purse. “I swear . . .” She shook her head. “That man is something else.”

  During the short drive to the furniture store, Mia and Aggie rehashed last night’s conversation. Before starting the movie, they had managed to coax more information from Rachel about her foster mother. She’d told them the name of the furniture store where Pam worked. That the woman was tall and thin, with short, dark, curly hair and glasses. That she liked to talk and tell “her whole, stupid, boring life story” to anyone willing to listen.

  After finding a parking spot, they entered the store and wove a pathway through bedroom suites and dining room tables.

  Aggie nudged Mia with an elbow and whispered, “I bet that’s her. See? Over by the couches?”

  A woman fitting the description Rachel had provided paced in front of a leather love seat, hands clasped behind her back.

  “Remember our plan,” Mia said to Aggie as they started toward the woman. “Let me do most of the talking.”

  The sales clerk smiled as they approached. “Afternoon, ladies. Are you looking for something in particular today?”

  Mia’s heartbeat kicked up as she read Pam Underhill’s nametag. “I’m helping my mom shop for a living room couch.”

  She studied Rachel’s foster mother. Late thirties, piercing blue eyes behind a pair of oval glasses, a scatter of freckles across her nose. Her voice sounded like a scratchy record album, but friendly enough. She looked benign, like anyone’s middle class next door neighbor. Hard to imagine that someone like her would hit a child hard enough to leave bruises. But Mia wasn’t naïve. Human monsters didn’t have horns and a tail. As often as not, they looked like teachers and preachers . . . or sales clerks in furniture stores.

  Pam turned to Aggie. “I’m sure I can help you find something. Tell me about your living room. Is it formal? Informal?”

  “Informal,” Aggie blurted at the same time Mia said, “Formal.”

  Pam eyed them curiously.

  “Mother, it’s—”

  “You really think it’s f
ormal, sugar?” Aggie’s eyes fluttered as she shifted from Mia to Pam. “Maybe it is. I do like fancy things.”

  Pam’s gaze flicked over Aggie, from her polyester pants, to the sweatshirt the twins gave her, years back, with “Grandma” embroidered across the chest. “I’m a little surprised. You look so down to earth.”

  “Do I?” Aggie chirped, dipping her head, shooting a sharp look at Pam over the top of her new reading glasses. “Well, people aren’t always what they seem, now are they?”

  Pam flinched. “I meant that as a compliment, ma’am. I like down-to-earth people. I consider myself one.”

  A spark of fury flashed in Aggie’s eyes. Mia doubted Pam noticed it, but she did. She was almost relieved when Aggie’s cell phone rang. Maybe a call would give her time to calm down.

  Aggie looked at the caller I.D. then answered the phone. “What now, Roy?”

  The sharpness in her voice startled Mia. She had never heard Aggie use that tone with her husband.

  “I can’t talk now. The scissors are in the kitchen junk drawer.” She sighed. “Well, keep looking.” Aggie punched the phone’s off button.

  “Everything okay?” Mia linked arms with her friend.

  Aggie’s smile appeared forced. “Just fine. Now where were we?”

  Returning her attention to Pam, Mia said, “Mother just had the room redone. It’s all very Mediterranean. Dark reds and greens and golds. The couch should be classy.”

  “But comfortable,” Aggie added.

  Mia chuckled. “Like Mother.”

  “I have just the thing.” Pam started across the aisle. “Follow me.”

  Snagging Aggie’s attention, Mia frowned, jerked her head toward Pam and mouthed, be nice. Their goal was to make the woman comfortable with them so she would open up, not to make her wary by spouting innuendoes. While they walked, Mia pointed out couches that Aggie rejected. They bantered back and forth like a mother and daughter. “Excuse us,” Mia said to Pam. “We’re both out of sorts today.” When Pam glanced back at her, Mia shrugged and said, “My teenaged daughter is driving us crazy.”

  Pam’s fake smile turned into a sympathetic one. “I hear that.”

 

‹ Prev