Hidden Hearts (19 page)

“Shit!”

Penn rushed to her side, and she yanked at her skirt which had ridden up her thighs. She caught Penn glancing at her legs, but when their eyes met she only saw concern. Penn helped her sit up and took off her shoe to examine her ankle. When she rotated it to the left, CC moaned.

“Yeah, I think you’ve sprained it, but I’ll defer to the expert,” she said, hopping up and jogging to the edge of the driveway. “Hey!” she called, waving her hand.

Viv and two other women joined them on the blacktop, along with seven of the homeliest mutts she’d ever seen.

“My Lord,” Viv proclaimed. “What happened, child?”

“She tripped in that damn pothole I haven’t fixed yet,” Penn said.

A light-skinned African-American woman knelt beside her and manipulated her ankle until she winced.

“It’s a semiserious sprain. I imagine with some ice and maybe a painkiller or two you’ll be fine.”

“I can help with those,” Viv said brightly and headed for her house.

“This is Maya,” Penn explained. “She’s an ER nurse.”

“Help her get up,” Maya commanded. “I need to see if she can put any weight on it.”

Penn and the other woman each took a side and lifted her, but the minute she tried to stand on her right foot, it buckled.

Maya sighed. “Okay, that’s not going to work. Lynette, go get an ice pack from my freezer.”

Lynette jumped to attention and saluted. She looked as if she’d stepped out of a secondhand store. She was chic in a long peasant skirt, lime-green blouse cinched by a fashionable black belt and a red bowler that sat on her head over very curly brown locks. It was a bold fashion statement, and CC thought it worked.

“Hi, I’m Lynette. I’m not sure if this is an appropriate time to be introduced but since I’m tending to your injury—”

“Lynette, go,” Penn said.

“I’m CC,” she said, returning the smile before Lynette ran off.

“Let’s get her to a chair. We need to get this ankle up.”

Followed by the pack of dogs, they set her in one of the chaise lounges. Bowls and platters of food covered the long concrete table with the mosaic sides, indicating their meal was about to begin.

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble,” she said automatically.

“It’s all right,” Penn said. “It’s my fault for not fixing that pothole.”

When Lynette returned, Maya packed her ankle and she groaned. The pain and the cold made it ache.

“You’ll definitely need some drugs,” Maya said. “It’ll get worse before it gets better.”

She went back to her dinner responsibility of organizing the side dishes while Penn crouched beside her and held up the portfolio. She tried to grab it but Penn was quick.

“You still haven’t told me why you invited me here.”

Before she could answer, Viv appeared shaking a small pill bottle. “Now you just take two of these and a glass of wine and you’ll feel a lot better.”

“I have to cook,” Penn said, handing her the portfolio and again ignoring the question.

“Oh, good, you remembered it,” Viv said excitedly.

Penn offered a lazy smile, and CC handed Viv her life’s work. “It’s just some drawings I did during high school. I was a kid. It’s not like I had any talent.”

Viv’s gaze shifted from her immersion in Danny the Dachshund to her. “And what idiot told you that?”

“I just…”

“These are excellent. You have a real knack for texture. Did you ever go to art school?”

“No, I went to college.”

Her sympathetic smile told CC she understood. Perhaps Viv had chosen between stability and her passion decades ago—only she’d chosen differently.

Lynette handed each of them a glass of sauvignon
blanc
. “Viv’s right,” she said, raising her own glass in salute. “Wine helps.”

She washed the pill down and chatted with Viv about art and drawing while the others finished the meal preparations. She felt light-headed and knew she’d soon be swimming in a pleasant stupor.

“I wanted to ask you about Jacob Rubenstein.”

At the mention of his name, Viv smiled slightly.
“A lovely man.”

“So what happened with that note? Why do you think your father gave up your home, and why did Mr. Rubenstein leave it out of his will? Better yet, if he owned the property for forty years, why didn’t he claim it?”

“Whoa, honey, you need to slow down. You asked a ton of questions, and I can’t even remember the first one. Besides, we don’t know each other well enough to discuss such matters.”

She nodded at the kind rebuff and decided to let the subject drop. She was enjoying herself, and she realized it was the first time in a long time she’d been around a group of women. She missed their voices, their laughter and the camaraderie.

“Can I ask you about your art, about how you came to be an illustrator?”

She laughed.
“Of course.
What do you want to know?”

“Did you go to art school?”

“No, there wasn’t enough money. And school was never my thing. I was dyslexic but nobody ever figured that out. I learned it from
60 Minutes.
My parents split up when I was in high school, and my mother had to support me. I went to work in a dime store as a cashier. I painted on the side.”

“How did the Chloe series happen?”

“I’d taken an art class at the YMCA just for fun. The teacher was a student at the university. He saw my watercolors and invited me to meet one of the professors who knew a publisher.” She smiled and added, “It’s all about who you know.”

“Well, as one of your biggest fans, I’m glad you knew someone who knew someone.”

She was certain she wore a goofy look of sheer admiration, but she couldn’t help it. Chloe was a true friend, and CC was completely inebriated. She had no idea how she’d get home, and she didn’t care. One of Lynette’s dogs, a huge pit bull mix with a terrible underbite, sat down next to her as if he was standing guard. 

She patted his head and said, “Nice doggie.”

Penn hovered over her wearing a frown. “Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking.”

She pinched her thumb and forefinger together.
“Just a little.
It’s helping with the pain.”

“I’ll bet. Don’t let Maya find out. She’ll really give you a lecture, and you, too,” she added, shaking a finger at Viv.

“I’m just being hospitable,” she protested. “The woman’s over twenty-one, so I’m assuming she knows her limits.” She shot a glance at CC. “You do know your limits, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’m not there,” she said, holding her glass out when Lynette passed by.

“How will you drive home?” Penn asked
,
leaning over her like a possessive lover entitled to such close contact. She was rugged and independent and completely appetizing. She was outdoors REI while Alicia was Nordstrom’s.

“What are you thinking about? Wondering what your ex is doing tonight?”

She blinked and realized her lascivious thought must be all over her face. She wondered if she’d said anything out loud.

“Shit, Penn! The chicken’s burning!” Maya shouted.

Penn quickly returned to the grill, and soon afterward a plentiful spread covered the table. Although CC couldn’t fully appreciate it, she was impressed by the assortment of serving bowls, plates and condiment trays.

Penn brought her a heaping plate of chicken kabobs, red potatoes, green beans, asparagus and fresh bread. Lynette sat in the redwood chair, and Viv returned to the chaise lounge next to her. It seemed everyone had assigned places, and she wondered whose she’d taken until she watched Penn, now carrying her own plate, head for the hammock on the opposite side of the patio. She sat down carefully, balancing her dinner while she gently rocked. Maya sat near her, and CC realized they formed a loose circle around the food and the mosaic table.

“So what’s the surgery of the week?” Viv asked Maya.

“The surgery of the week was removing a spear from a man’s ribcage after his best friend accidentally stabbed him.”

“Are they sure it was an accident?” Viv asked, and everyone laughed.

CC studied Maya. There was something familiar about her—something distinct, but she couldn’t place it. Maybe she’d met her before but that was unlikely unless she was from Bloomington.

Lynette grabbed another bottle of wine and gave everyone a refill. “I had an incredible day today. I finally had a chance to go through this box of albums I acquired at an auction, and I found a mint condition copy of Keith Moon’s
Two Sides of the Moon
. Can you believe it?”

They smiled politely but it was obvious no one was as excited as her. She looked at them, dumbfounded. “C’mon, guys! It’s Keith Moon!”

“I guess it’s pretty rare, huh?” Penn offered.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “That was the only solo album he recorded, and he sang all the vocals and didn’t play the drums except for a few songs. I’ll be able to sell it for at least sixty bucks!”

Viv leaned over and said to CC, “Lynette owns a record store called Valley Vinyl. They specialize in old LPs.”

She looked up at Lynette, surprised. “You mean like real records? Do people still play those?”

Lynette gasped at the question. “Some people do. Some of us aren’t totally sold on iTunes as the music provider to the world. A few of us still believe in the preservation of history and loyalty to the local small business owners of this community!”

Everyone cheered, and when CC raised her glass in salute, half of the wine dribbled onto the grass. She was drunk, a fact she confirmed when she leaned forward to check her ice pack and the ground spun underneath her. Only when she returned to a reclining position did the world realign.
I’ll just live out here in this chair. They can throw a blanket over me during the winter.

She gathered that Lynette lived in the first cottage with all of the dogs, and she’d seen Maya run back to the cottage that barely looked as if someone lived there. CC imagined that Maya, as a nurse, kept erratic, long hours and was barely home. Since she knew Penn lived on the
end, that
left the cottage with the harp symbol on the limestone.

“Who lives there?” she blurted to Viv.

“That’s Siobhan’s place. She’s a harpist with the Phoenix Symphony. Tonight they have a concert. But you’ll have to hear her play sometime. She’s incredibly gifted.”

“You dedicated
Chloe Goes to the Symphony
to her.”

Viv looked surprised. “I did.”

“Do you always dedicate your books to someone in your life?”

“Usually,” she said as she stood up.

“Who’s Kiah?”

Viv froze and a pained expression crossed her face.

CC said quickly, “I’m sorry.”

“She was a friend,” Viv said simply before she walked away.

She felt horrible for opening her big mouth. Kiah was definitely someone very important to her and possibly part of the enclave’s mystery. How did the five women come to live there? How did the enclave come to be? She doubted the cute little cottages and the park had always been a part of the land. Had Viv created this slice of heaven?

Lynette handed her some sweet potato pie, and she consumed the slice in ten seconds. It was heaven. She closed her eyes, the wine and Vicodin killing her pain, and found herself on the trolley car surrounded by people taking a ride. They were traveling down a major street passing old Buicks, Caddies and Plymouths. Across from her was a man in a suit—Jacob Rubenstein. He was reading the newspaper. She slid across the seat to talk to him when there was a sudden squeal of brakes.

“Sorry folks,” a familiar voice called.

She glanced toward the driver, and Penn turned and tipped her hat. She was dressed in a white uniform and when their eyes met, she winked.

Suddenly the trolley was empty, and Penn was patting her lap. “Come here, baby,” she said, and CC obeyed.

She crawled into her lap and kissed her. Her cap fell off when CC’s fingers explored her short curls. Penn unbuttoned her shirt and kissed the side of her breast. She threw her head back and groaned.