by Gun Brooke
Tierney studied her for a few moments but broke eye contact before Giselle began to feel cornered. “Sure thing, Boss.” Tierney turned and walked toward the guesthouse.
Looking down at Charley, Giselle expected the dog to trot after her new trainer, but instead the retriever cocked her head and seemed to study her with a glance that eerily resembled Tierney’s.
Muttering under her breath, Giselle returned to the house and locked herself into her music room. She stared at the music sheet, using the fingers of her right hand to pinch the skin between her thumb and index finger on her left. This was one of the tricks she used to snap out of unfavorable moods. It succeeded, as always, but when she started to play what she had written down earlier, the image of Tierney’s unwavering gaze returned. Frustrated, Giselle yanked her hands from the keys. She had to start working on another song, something with a less sultry melody. It was that or fear she might be losing her mind.
Chapter Five
Tierney wiped off the kitchen counter and then turned to her audience. Mister and Charley regarded her intently, the latter switching her gaze to the large sack of dog food visible through the open door leading to the mudroom.
“Pretty obvious, aren’t you, girl?” Tierney said and walked over to read the sack. Following the chart on the back, she estimated Charley’s weight and measured the dry food into a pink bowl with the dog’s name on it. She repeated the process with the cat food and made sure they had plenty of clean water.
Dinner had been a tense experience between the two humans in the house. Giselle hadn’t said more than ten words before returning to the music room, and Tierney had felt a strange variety of being tongue-tied. She didn’t want to tick Giselle off. Her position as assistant was precarious as it was. Poking the Moroccan-chicken dish with her fork, Tierney had tried to create some appetite, but the more she chewed each mouthful, the more it seemed to grow.
When she was done, Giselle sat very still, gazing out the window for several moments. She looked forlorn and distant, which made Tierney suspect that composing hadn’t gone very smoothly.
“Thank you,” Giselle said, startling Tierney before she stood and took her plate to the dishwasher. “It was very tasty. You’re a good cook.”
“You’re welcome,” Tierney said quietly. “Will you need me for anything else after I feed the menagerie and take care of the kitchen?”
Giselle grew visibly tenser, if that was even possible. “No. You can do what you want. The guesthouse should have everything you need, including Wi-Fi and cable television.”
“Sounds great.” Tierney stood, but remained at the table since Giselle looked like she might run away if she came to close. “Breakfast at…?”
“Eight’s fine. I normally have oatmeal or cereal. And coffee.”
“Got it.”
They stood looking at each other, the air around them electrified, which was mindboggling. Tierney had known this woman for about ten hours, and still she was dying to learn everything about her. How on earth had Giselle, so remote in her ways and clearly struggling with some sort of phobia or something, gotten under her skin so quickly and thoroughly? Tierney took pride in not letting anyone close, unless it was for happy-go-lucky purposes, such as going clubbing or hiking through nature. When things got serious, or when someone tried to use her as a crutch, it was time to move on. Why didn’t Giselle, who truly needed assistance, repel her like other people had over time?
When Giselle nodded curtly and left, Tierney finished the rest of her chores, walked Charley for fifteen minutes, and then headed for the guesthouse. Giselle had showed her how to set the alarm before leaving the main residence. The guesthouse had a similar setup, but oddly enough it made Tierney feel trapped rather than safe.
The cabin really was too cute for words. Something told her Giselle had hired someone to decorate it, as she didn’t seem like the type that went for cute. Unless you counted Charley and Mister. They were cute enough.
She turned on the TV and zapped through the channels available. It took a while since there seemed to be hundreds. After clicking through ten different infomercial channels in a row, Tierney sighed, pulled out her laptop, and hooked it up to the internet. She thought about googling Giselle but refrained from it as it felt like prying. Instead she logged into a closed forum on Facebook called Surviving the System USA.
Tierney read through some messages and commented on a few. A woman, Suki, was going through a tough time, having flashbacks from her teenage years.
I saw this guy at the supermarket today, and he looked just like the husband in the last foster home I was in. He was either totally uninterested in me and the younger boy they were fostering, or he was way too attentive. He ignored the boy, but he would come into my room claiming he needed to check for drugs or make sure I was studying and didn’t have any boys hiding in there. He would grab me, insist he needed to check for needle marks. He would stroke up and down my arms—and I felt so cornered, so humiliated. I have never tried drugs. And I was sixteen. It was obvious he was feeling me up. It never went any further than that, but it still made me feel so unsure, you know. Unsafe.
Tierney grew angry, and she began to type.
Suki, you’re not alone. I had similar things happen to me in a group home. I was sent there because I smacked the shit out of the husband in my previous foster home after he tried that crap with a girl younger than me. I think she was twelve. He reported me for being violent, and they sent me a group home. If I hadn’t met my counselor at that point, who knows what route I would’ve gone down. I’m sure she would still be disappointed in me for being a vagabond of sorts, but she saved my ass back then. So, no wonder we have flashbacks, Suki. We had to fight to stay sane so many times.
Tierney read on, kept commenting briefly, but her mind had become stuck in the memory of the man who was supposed to be the father figure for the four foster children in his and his wife’s care. The wife had been okay, if a bit too uncoordinated and not very organized. She often forgot their lunches or to make sure the smaller kids brushed their teeth, but Tierney took up the slack. That’s just what you did as the oldest foster kid in your current home.
Her cellphone rang, startling her. She glanced at the display, and a trembling smile formed on her lips when she saw the photo indicating the caller. Swiping her finger toward the thumbnail of a green receiver, Tierney grinned as she answered.
“Hi, Dina. Long time, no see.”
“And whose fault is that? I called the last three times. I was starting to think you’d keeled over or something.” Medina Pachis, Dina to her friends, huffed. “That aside, I had a sudden urge to keep tabs on you. Must be my clairvoyant streak.” Dina had stayed at the same group home in Chicago as Tierney when they were sixteen and seventeen. It wasn’t one of the better homes, and both of them had suffered at the hands of a very strict and religious management.
“That, or you broke up with your latest hunk and needed to tell me all the sudden details.” Tierney curled up in the corner of the couch, making herself comfortable. No doubt the story would be entertaining. Dina’s life was colorful in a way Tierney’s had never been—and never would be. She was far too jaded and careful to take the risks Dina constantly did.
“How did you know? Actually, it’s a double whammy. I think I’ve gone through two lovers since we talked last. One guy and one girl.”
Tierney groaned. “Whoa. You’re terrible. Honestly, Dina. You’re burning your candle at both ends. I’m the one who needs to worry.”
“Nah. It wasn’t that bad really. The guy sort of was a weekend fling, but the girl…” Dina cleared her throat. “Being bi is sometimes rather confusing. The guy was lovely, very sweet, but I knew going in that he’d just be like a carnival attraction. Susannah though…it was different. She was different.”
Frowning, Tierney gripped the phone harder. “You sound heartbroken, Dina.” She spoke lightly, but she meant it.
“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Din
a gave something that sounded like a mix of a sob and a laugh. “Susannah is great. Perfect—or as close to perfect as a person can get without being Mother Theresa, I suppose.”
Tierney ached for her friend. Dina wasn’t about one-night stands. For Dina, it was about potential love with each of the people she hooked up with, and each breakup, whether after a week, a month, or a year, ate away at her heart a little more. The analogy ran even more true than usual as Dina sounded hollow. “So, this Susannah is the one, you think?”
“God, I hope not. If she is, I’m screwed.” Dina laughed unhappily. “If I meet any more girls like her, and it ends the same way, I’ll be in real trouble.” She cleared her throat. “Enough about my life. Where are you keeping yourself these days?”
“I’m in East Quay,” Tierney said lightly.
“East Quay? That’s Rhode Island, isn’t it?”
“Yes. An hour or so east of Providence. I’m working as a temp assistant to a composer. You might have heard of her since you’re such a music buff. Giselle Bonnaire.” Tierney felt safe sharing this information with Dina, as her friend was extremely loyal.
“Giselle Bonnaire? The mysterious woman behind so many hit songs? I’ve only seen a few photos of her. And I think they were taken at least ten years ago. She was gorgeous back then. Please tell me she still is.” Her tone brighter now, Dina chuckled.
“She is. I mean, she’s not a classic beauty, but she has this special, well, I don’t know, charisma doesn’t cover it. It’s more than that.” Relieved she could talk to Dina about her confusion, Tierney curled up further against the pillows. “It’s like she’s frail and strong at the same time. She’s a bit of a hermit, I think. She lives in the countryside with her pets, and apart from the people she works with, she doesn’t seem to socialize much.”
“So, lonely, huh?” Dina sounded apprehensive. “I know you have a knack for helping others, but you’re not trying to save Giselle Bonnaire, are you?”
“Not sure what you’re talking about, but no. I’m not. I’m here for two weeks, at best, and then I’ll be on my merry way toward new adventures.” And be utterly alone again. That normally didn’t bother Tierney, since she was used to it, but now it did. She wanted to take the thought back and not acknowledge the way hitting the road yet again made her feel.
“You’ve been there for, what is it, a day or so? And yet you’re head over heels, if not in love, so totally interested and mesmerized. And before you object to my estimate, then realize how long I’ve known you. If anyone can see a pattern form when it comes to you, it’s me.”
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right. She has a way of pulling me in. Perhaps she does that to everyone—apart from some witches in town—what do I know?”
“True. It might be a gift, or something she does, being fully aware how it affects people. I can’t say either way, of course.”
Tierney doubted Giselle was manipulative. Nothing about her seemed false in that way. Instead, she seemed too reserved to be inclined to take part in power games like that. “She’s not the calculating type. I don’t know her at all, but I have a pretty sizable radar when it comes to bullshit. I can tell you the bullshit meter went all the way to the bell when I ran into two women in the center of East Quay. They were quick to try to make me what I interpreted as their mole in Giselle’s home.”
“What? Really? But why?” Dina sounded shocked.
Tierney rose and went into the kitchenette. She opened the cabinet doors one after another, searching for tea or coffee, and found both. Pouring water into an electric kettle, she squeezed her cellphone between her shoulder and jaw. “I got the impression that they’d, or some friend of theirs, tried to stick their noses into Giselle’s business, with a less than amicable response from her. They seemed really overbearing, but I’ll make some extra cash walking their dogs and perhaps even babysitting, once they check my potential rap sheet.”
“Oh, God. Tell me it’s still sealed. I mean, that old stuff?” Dina squeaked. “All that happened when we were like fifteen.”
“Sure it is. That won’t surface.” Tierney put some instant coffee into a mug, hoping she was right. Someone with connections could always circumvent the rules. “I’ll be trotting along with kids and dogs before you know it. Right now, I’m in this super-cute cottage on Giselle’s property, but I’ll have to go back to camping when I don’t have anything but the dog-walking money. Also, what I earn here, I can set aside. Meals are included.”
“She sounds generous, your Giselle,” Dina said softly.
“She is. But she’s not my anything.” The mere idea was preposterous. A vagabond chick and a well-spoken, famous composer. Tierney made a face at her reflection in the kitchenette window. After returning to the living-room area, she placed the mug on the small coffee table. “I’m going to make use of what happened to me today and write some lyrics,” she said and pulled her laptop onto her thighs. “Whenever I have days like these, out of the ordinary, my muse starts dancing a goddamn jig on my shoulder.”
“Ah, that muse of yours. You need to show your texts to Giselle. Perhaps she’ll be inspired and write some beautiful music for you to sing. That could even be your demo.”
Dina’s idea made a cold knot twist her bowels together. “Don’t even say that. I can’t think of anything triter and more clichéd than that.”
“Perhaps it’s trite and a cliché because it actually happens sometimes.”
“In Hollywood, maybe. In real life? Not so much.” Tierney knew she sounded testy, but the mere idea of making a fool of herself like that nauseated her.
“Hey. Don’t bite my head off, T.” Dina had clearly retreated. “I was only kidding.”
“Sorry!” Wanting to stomp on her own foot, Tierney made sure her voice mellowed. “I’m still a bit nervous about this job, even if it’s only for a couple of weeks. I guess I really want to be useful. You know, train her dog and make sure those women don’t poke their heads inside her property or start some odd rumors.”
“Oh, God,” Dina said again. “You’ve got it bad, sweetie. You’re hooked. I haven’t heard you talk about anybody else that way…well, except me, back in the day. And this after only knowing this woman for a few hours, really.”
“You’re reading too much into it.” Tierney tried to weasel her way out of the entire topic. “She’s my employer, whom I happen to admire. I’d just hate for her to be the topic of town gossip.”
“Just saying.” Dina made a kissing sound. “You know you can call me anytime you need to. Even if it’s in the middle of the night.”
Appalled at how tears welled up in her eyes, Tierney murmured, “You too. Any time. And don’t give up on this Susannah you’re so gone on. She may just realize what a catch you are.”
“Same for your Giselle.”
“Please.” Tierney groaned. “I swear I’ll—”
“All right, all right. I’ll behave.” Dina giggled.
They spoke about less turbulent topics for a few more minutes and then hung up after agreeing to catch up the upcoming weekend, which was in three days.
Tierney turned on Word and her favorite sites for rhymes and thesauruses. She stared at the blank page for a moment, and then her hands took on a life of their own, something they did when she just had to write down a song lyric. Only when she reached the chorus did she realize how this song could be interpreted, at least by someone reasonably aware of her current circumstances.
Chorus:
She looks at me
And I wish I could undo
How she seems to be
Lost in every shade of blue
If she dared trust in me
I would make the magic flow
Fireflies among the trees
As we sit and watch them glow
Tierney hid her face in her hands, but the image persisted of Giselle when she stood next to her dog in the garden, looking amazed at Charley wagging her tail as if saying, “See, Mom. See what I can do?” Tierney co
uldn’t fathom how such a simple thing could tug at her heart strings enough to wind them up so taut it hurt.
Maybe Dina was right.
Chapter Six
Two days later, on that Saturday, Giselle watched Tierney leave through the gate with Charley. It was time for her dog’s long walk, and Charley was bouncing at the end of the leash. Tierney let her work off some of her exuberance and then reeled her in. Charley looked adoringly at the young woman and seemed to be eager to please her trainer.
Giselle confessed to herself that she would have given anything to join them. Why was it so difficult, so downright impossible to go outside her gate? A couple of years ago, she’d enjoyed walking in the woods and along the deserted gravel roads around the neighborhood. Now, she felt only reasonably safe from having one of her panic attacks when she stayed at the house or in her garden. It was ridiculous, and since Tierney had begun training Charley, she felt cheated. Three nights had passed since Tierney had talked her way into working for her. Each day that passed made her question how the hell she’d make her days work after Tierney left. The last two days had gone very smoothly, making Giselle wonder if either she was transparent or if Tierney was clairvoyant, since the other woman often picked up on what Giselle wanted before she’d said a word.
