"It's nice to meet you too," Halie said. At the same time, Sam walked into the room.
Maggie faced Sam as June introduced them to one another. After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, they all stood awkwardly staring at one other, until June offered wine, which everyone gladly accepted.
The kitchen smelled of garlic sautéed in olive oil. Maggie sipped her wine. "Mmm, it smells great in here. It's making me hungry," she said.
"Believe me, it's making me hungry too," Halie said.
"No surprise there," Sam added. "I don't think there's a time when you're not hungry. At least I haven't seen it yet."
"Very funny. Now why don't you be a sweetie and hand me my glass of wine, and then let me finish up here in the kitchen, okay?"
"Whatever you say, Honey-pie." Sam did as she was asked, then threw in a peck on the cheek for good measure.
"Thanks, now scoot."
While Halie cooked the pasta, June motioned everyone else into the living room. After they sat, Maggie said to Sam, "Your mother has told me so much about you and Halie. I can't believe how you two met, and then how close you came to losing her so soon thereafter. You must feel even more blessed now."
"Yes, thanks. I do. I can't even begin to tell you what that day on the mountain felt like for me. I didn't know if she was hurt or not, or if I'd be able to find her and the others before it got dark and cold. If it wasn't for my dog Jake, I don't know if I'd have found them in time."
"Thank God it all worked out in the end. Your mom showed me the article Halie wrote on Grand Teton and the proposed park shutdown last summer. The story was excellent and obviously succeeded with its intended impact, since I hear the park remains open," Maggie said.
"Yes, thankfully. I'm sure the pictures and interviews and the overall story was a major factor in that decision. Halie's very talented."
"She appears to be, from what I've read. Was that the last article she wrote?"
"It was. After recovering from the crash, she came to live with Jake and me." Sam paused for a second and then continued. "You know, I'm glad my mom filled you in on our lives, but I wish I could say the same about yours. It seems that for some reason she's decided to keep you all to herself."
"Yes," Maggie said. Her tone was stern, but it did not appear directed at Sam. "That is unfortunate, isn't it?" Her gaze was focused on June.
Halie walked into the living room. "What's unfortunate?"
"I was merely telling Maggie that it's unfortunate Mom kept all her information about her to herself and hasn't told us anything about her, and Maggie agreed with me." Sam crossed her left leg over her right leg, resting her ankle on her knee as she glared at her mom.
"Yes, well, you know, sometimes it's better that way," June said. Her tone was sheepish and immediately after speaking she drank deep from her wineglass.
"I don't think it's ever better that way, Mom. In fact, aren't you the one who always told your kids to live their lives the way they want, as long as they make sure they're good to other people along the way?" Sam asked.
"Sounds like solid advice," Maggie said.
"Okay, you two smarty-pants," June said. "Since the two of you seem to be on the same page and my hold out appears futile at this point, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't been honest and I'm sorry I've been in the closet."
Halie couldn't believe what she'd heard.
June continued. "Yes, Maggie and I are lovers. We have been for several years now." Her words were spoken crisp and matter of fact at first, but soon her speech slowed and her tone became filled with affection. "I didn't know how to tell you both, especially you Sam, with your father and all."
"I knew it!" Sam said. She jumped up and gave her mom a hug. "I knew it the minute I saw the two of you the other day. I'm glad you told me. Look, Mom. Dad died a long time ago, and I know you'll always love him in a special way, but that doesn't mean you can't live the rest of your life and be happy. And nothing changes how I feel about you or Dad. I have to say though, I was surprised that you--well, you know--"
"Fell in love with a woman?"
"Yes."
"Believe me. No one was more surprised than I was. And then after it happened, I kept thinking to myself, well, maybe the gene does run in the family. You certainly got it."
"Yes I did, and I'm grateful," Sam said. She moved closer to Halie, grabbed her hand, and gave a squeeze. "What I don't understand is why all the secrecy. I mean I think it would have been easier for you, especially knowing about us. Are you in the closet with everyone around here?"
"She is," Maggie answered for her. "No one knows, and she's asked me to keep it that way."
"Yes, well that's because--well, I don't know, I feel a bit odd about it I guess. Not about our relationship," June said, placing her hand on Maggie's thigh, "but about the situation. I mean, I accepted you, Sam, for who you were, once you told me you were gay. In fact, I was proud of you for having the courage to be yourself and still am, but at the same time I wanted to protect you and fight for your rights. That's why I joined PFLAG and stayed with them for so many years. I think that when family members speak out on behalf of their gay kids or siblings, it has a much greater impact on the public's perception of gays in a positive light, than if someone gay speaks out. I was afraid to lose that and I didn't want people to think I joined the group because I ended up being gay. I joined it for you and I fought for your rights and those of other people like you."
"You never told me that," Maggie said to June. "I had no idea that's why you stayed closeted." She stood. "Come here." Maggie put her arms around June and held her in a long embrace. Sam and Halie joined them, and soon all four women were locked in one tight huddle.
"All right now, all of you," June said. "Enough of this mushy stuff. I'm hungry. Is dinner ready yet?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Halie said. Her stomach growled like that of a baby tiger.
The conversation at the dinner table, now with the veil of secrecy lifted, was lively and entertaining. The time sped past much too quick. During dessert, Halie told June and Maggie about her photo gallery, and all the work she and Sam had put into it.
"Did you know your mom has artistic abilities herself?" Maggie said.
"She does?" Sam replied. She never saw her mom exhibit any interest in the arts.
"She certainly does. She paints some wonderful pictures, but keeps them hidden in her bedroom closet," Maggie said, after which she flashed what appeared to Halie as a bragging smile June's way.
"Oh, nonsense," June Tyler spurted. "They're nothing. I simply paint for fun and it relaxes me. In fact, I only recently started it up in the last couple of months."
"I'd love to see a couple of them, Mom," Halie said. She paused for a moment, having gotten no response, and added, "Please."
"Yeah, Mom, please," Sam said.
"Oh, okay. If you're all going to gang up on me, what choice do I have?" June got up and walked into the master bedroom. She returned carrying two paintings, each several feet high and several feet wide. She set them with care on the floor, and let them rest against the wall. She moved to the side.
Sam and Halie exchanged silent glances.
"I remember when your Mom painted these," Maggie said. "I couldn't believe her talent and she'd poo-poo'd the paintings as if they were nothing."
Both paintings were of the shore. One was of a little wooden seafood restaurant on the bay, its outdoor deck filled with customers sitting next to the docks, the pier bustling with commotion. Small fishing boats and sailboats dotted the water. The detail was exquisite as if the scene remained in motion. The other was of a sunset on the beach. Striking hues of orange, yellow, and red touched the ocean. In the distance dark silhouettes of two lovers held hands as they basked in the remaining sunlight and serenity of the moment. The silhouettes were cleverly depicted so the person viewing the painting could imagine the figures however they wanted--as a man and a woman, two women, or two men.
"These paintings are magnif
icent," Halie said. "They should be hanging in an art gallery."
"Halie's right, Mom, these are fabulous. I had no idea. Are you sure Halie's not your birth daughter, because I don't have an artistic bone in my body."
Everyone laughed.
"You know, Mom," Halie said, "I've been thinking about putting a corner in my photo gallery for local artwork. For drawings and paintings and stuff, maybe even something for kids, but I'm not sure about how to go about it yet. I'd love to start the artwork corner with one of your paintings though."
"Are you serious?" June said. She lifted her hand to her chest.
"Of course I am. I can have it packaged tomorrow and shipped to the store."
June shifted her attention to Maggie, her eyes appearing to ask for her approval. "Well, I guess so if you think it's good enough. Take whichever one you like."
"Thanks," Halie said. She stood and gave June a hug. "This is so perfect. I'm not sure which one I should take though." She paused and looked both paintings over again. "I think Maggie should decide."
Maggie smiled at Halie. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful. For what are now obvious reasons, I'm partial to the painting of the lovers walking along the beach, and if June would allow me to, I'd like to have that one framed for my house. I think the other would be great for the gallery."
Halie noticed June's acquiescence to Maggie's response was made with a sparkle in her eye, their connection so close, no speech was necessary. The intensity between them almost made Halie blush. "Good, the little seafood shack wins," Halie said. She lifted her glass with a toast and took a healthy sip along with everyone else.
Chapter Nine
SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN the side of Ronni Summers's rounded face and between her ample breasts as she wiped the tailpipe of her motorcycle with a dampened T-shirt dabbed in chrome cleaner. The smell of the rust-orange cream-like liquid, interfused with the smell of the wax she'd moments before rubbed onto her gas tank, was as welcome a fragrance to Ronni as was engine oil and grease. In this arena, life made sense and calm existed.
Ronni's habit, when she was upset or frustrated, was to either clean her bike or work with her dad on one of the antique cars he was restoring. Since she wanted to be alone today, the bike won out. Gliding her hand along the chrome, she felt the tiny pieces of rust pitting on the pipe through the cotton fabric of the shirt. She rubbed each bump with vigor until only smoothness remained. After completing one side and buffing off the dried chrome cleaner until the bike shone like glass, she started on the other side. Her knees strained during the task, but she'd not let up until every inch of the motorcycle that could shine sparkled at her. Satisfied, she stood aside in her worn out blue jeans, white T-shirt, and scuffed up brown Danner work boots and admired her work.
As the sun edged its way up the driveway, Ronni pulled out a cigarette and lit it, enjoying the first long drag. She watched lazily as the reflection of clouds careened across the bike's deep purple gas tank. Each side of the tank was painted with the head of a female black panther. Ronni connected with the primal power the sight of the panther evoked. She cherished her bike more than almost anything, aside from her mom and dad. No matter how messed up her mom became or how badly her mom treated her in the past, Ronni loved her all the same.
Content with her day's work, she stepped on her expired cigarette butt, kicked up the stand on her bike, and rolled the motorcycle into the garage. One week to Sturgis. She and her bike were ready.
SATURDAY NIGHT'S OPENING of the photo gallery came upon them quickly, but Halie was prepared. The flyers and personal invitations were mailed on time, the caterer was early, and the champagne was properly chilled and waiting to be poured into fluted glasses. Halie bought the glasses especially for the occasion. The gallery was in pristine condition. Soft, slow, instrumental music played in the background.
As Halie straightened her white silk blouse she'd tucked into her black dress slacks, she worried about the turnout. She knew April and Corrine would come with a guest. Susan would be there, but she was more of a helper than a guest.
"Don't worry. You look great, the place looks great, the weather's perfect. You'll have a nice night, I promise. And if for some unlikely reason you don't, I'll make it up to you later," Sam said.
"Sounds like a plan," Halie said. She admired how exquisite Sam looked in her dark grey slacks and deep purple cotton shirt worn loose under a dark grey vest, the sleeves rolled to three quarters length. The shirt was unbuttoned far enough to show cleavage. Sam wore black leather dress shoes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. The way you're dressed tonight, I can't imagine my not taking you up on that offer if things don't work out."
Sam's tone deepened. "I sincerely hope you do, and so as not to sabotage your event, the offer stands if it's a great night as well."
"Good to know," Halie replied. "Do you think a lot of people will show up? What if no one shows?"
"Stop worrying. People will come. With free snacks and alcohol, relaxing music, gorgeous photographs, and a blindingly radiant host. Good luck keeping them away."
Halie's cheeks flushed. "You do know how to crank up the charm, don't you?"
"I try."
"You do better than try. Geez, I wish the caterer would hurry up prepping the snacks already. I wanted to sample them before anyone arrived, to make sure they were up to par."
Sam chuckled. "Oh, of course, you definitely want to make sure of that."
Halie shot Sam a fierce glance, but unable to maintain the facade, broke her expression into a warm, loving smile. Although the visit to New Jersey sped by, as did the few days before the opening, Halie was glad to be home. Unfortunately, the worries she left behind during that week away latched onto her after her return. The freeness she experienced in New Jersey washed away the moment they landed in Jackson Hole. She felt badly about it, especially since she knew her moods also affected Sam, regardless how much Sam tried to hide it. Determined not to be the downer tonight, Halie pushed the negative thoughts from her mind and refocused instead on the night ahead.
As the guests and visitors filtered in and out and the evening wore on, Sam had been right. The opening was a huge success. Halie was happy her few close friends were around her. Their presence gave her the confidence she needed to shine. Several expensive photographs sold as well, which Halie hadn't planned on. She basked in the moment, but the moment didn't last. When Walter Pipp showed up, the atmosphere and success of the evening spun one hundred and eighty degrees around and out of control.
Walter entered the gallery dressed in a pressed and cleaned sport coat and khaki pants. His hair was neatly combed, and with the exception of Nitro on his shoulder, he would have blended in well and gone relatively unnoticed. In fact, he'd already eaten several hors d'oeuvres and polished off half a glass of champagne before a woman saw Nitro, screamed, and sent the rat into a panic.
"Now what?" Halie said. She turned, following the direction of the stares. She ambled through the crowd in the direction of the commotion. "What the heck?"
There stood Walter Pipp, clearly attempting to calm the frantic women. He tried explaining that the rat was his pet and that yelling would only agitate him, but before he could complete his sentence, Nitro crawled down his pant leg to the floor. As he reached over, Walter spilled his champagne on a guest. People scattered. "A rat, a rat," they yelled. They exited the gallery twice as fast as they'd come in. When the exodus ended, a half dozen people remained. And there stood Walter, holding Nitro.
SEVERAL DAYS PASSED before Halie recovered from Walter's destruction of the gallery opening. Walter since apologized and explained why he came with Nitro, but only the humorous article of a local reporter, who happened to be in the midst of the evening's events and one of the last people to leave, rectified the near disaster. The article actually resulted in bringing in business from people who read about what happened and wanted to hear the story first hand. Susan was more than happy to tell the story, only each time she added a few more embellishmen
ts.
By the end of the week, the commotion died down to an acceptable level as the story circulated and interest fizzled. Now Halie got a better idea of what a normal workday was like. Before packing it in for the day, she carried a pile of folded boxes out the back door and lifted them into the recycle bin. She paused to appreciate the warm, dry weather and absently glanced across the parking lot.
Near where she'd parked, she noticed Walter Pipp standing by himself, cigarette dangling out of his mouth and hands perched on his hips. His gaze appeared focused out beyond her car. Halie watched him walk around it, then return to the rear of the store. She heard him mumble under his breath, but couldn't discern what he was saying.
Back inside, Halie searched for Susan. She saw her with a customer and waited until she finished. "That was strange," she said.
"What was strange?" Susan asked. "And why are you whispering?"
"I went out back a minute ago to throw out empty boxes and saw Walter standing in the parking lot, near our cars, having a smoke. He usually smokes by the back door of his place. What do think he was doing out there?"
"I don't know, maybe he was getting something from his truck, or maybe he wanted to catch a few rays of sun. Though somehow I don't think sunning is his thing. Why don't you ask him?" Susan said.
"Because when he saw me, he turned and walked away, like I caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. I think he was up to no good."
"In what way?"
"I don't know. I've got a bad feeling though. I'm going out there and make sure everything's okay."
Before Halie was able to take more than a couple of steps, Walter trudged through the front door. "Ladies," he said is his usual abrupt tone. "I wanted to let you know I saw a group of kids hanging out by your cars. They slit your front tire," he said to Halie. "I called the cops."
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