The Sugar Queen (10 page)
"Why would he do that?" Josey asked, absolutely transfixed by this time.
"Probably so his wife wouldn't know. But my mother, God bless her, went to his wife when I was nine. 'This is your husband's daughter,' I remember her saying. 'Look at her. His own flesh and blood and he won't even see her.' "
"That must have been horrible for you."
"Actually, that was the day everything made sense," Della Lee said. "That was the day I realized why my mother was following Marco Cirrini around town." "Why?"
Della Lee's eyes went past Josey's shoulder. She looked around the bedroom. "I've been in your house once before. That day when I was nine years old. I stood in your living room. Well, you weren't born yet, so I guess it wasn't your living room at the time. I couldn't believe how beautiful this place was. It
smelled
rich."
Josey started coming back to herself, pulling away from the story. No, no. She didn't want to hear the ending.
"Your mother gave my mother more money. Bought her silence again. That Margaret is one smart cookie," Della Lee said, shaking her head. "Marco may have had a child, but she was the only one who could give him a
legitimate
child. It was well known that Margaret and Marco didn't want children, but a year after Margaret found out about me, suddenly there was Josey, their late-in-life baby! The baby that would bind Margaret to Marco's fortune, no matter what."
Josey stood and backed away from the closet, half tripping over her long coat and ripping the tiara out of her hair. She stood across the room and stared at Della Lee in horror.
"Hi, sis," Della Lee said.
They just stared at each other. Della Lee was sitting cross-legged with her hands placidly on her knees. Josey was breathing heavily with anger and indignation.
"That's it!" Josey said. "I've had enough!"
"Finally," Della Lee said.
"I mean I've had enough of you! I will not tolerate anyone saying such things about my father. Everyone knows he was a great man. He loved my mother and my mother loved him. He saved Bald Slope." She pointed to her bedroom door, her hand trembling. "Get out!"
Della Lee rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up, Josey."
She couldn't believe it. Was there no way at all to intimidate this woman?
"This
is the real reason you decided to come to my closet. It had nothing to do with running from Julian. Are the two of you in this together?"
"Julian and I are in nothing together anymore. And I didn't run from him. He's a bastard, but I was running from myself," Della Lee said as she scooted the box back toward her and put the lid on it. She seemed a little sad, or disappointed. Well, what did she expect? That she could just say that Marco Cirrini was her father and have Josey embrace her?
"If you needed money, why didn't you just say so? I'll give you money. You didn't have to go through this whole production of pretending you wanted to help me." Josey went to her purse on the chaise lounge and took out her checkbook. She opened it and poised her pen. "How much?"
"I don't want your money," Della Lee said, moving her box back into the closet.
Josey dropped her arms. "Then what are you doing here? Why are you doing this? Why are you saying these things?"
"Because they're true. And I do want to help you. That's why I'm here."
Josey snorted, because being angry helped hide the completely ridiculous hurt she felt. She should have known. She should have known Della Lee had something like this up her sleeve. "Nothing you say is true."
"You love your mailman. Is that not true? You feel stuck here. Is that not true? You're trying to make up to your mother for something you did as a child, something she's never going to let you live down. Is that not true? You want to leave this place. You want to wear red. You want to take your candy out of your goddamn closet and eat it in front of everyone!"
"My father did not have a child with another woman," Josey said, and the words fell out of her mouth with a clatter.
"You don't believe me? Ask your mother," Della Lee
said.
"No!" Her mother would have a conniption if she got wind of Della Lee's allegations. She turned and stuffed her checkbook back into her purse. "And don't you dare say anything about this to her. Don't say it to anyone. Just tell me what you want."
"Okay, I want you to ask Samuel Lamar."
Josey turned back to her. "My father's old lawyer?"
"Yes."
"Why ask him?" she said leerily.
"Who do you think set up the money, house and car transfers? The confidentiality agreement?"
Josey stared at her, not saying anything. She couldn't believe this was happening. How had she let things get to this point? She should have kicked Della Lee out that first day. "Fine," she finally said. "I'll write him right now." She went to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. She didn't know Mr. Lamar's address by heart, but it was in the address book downstairs. She sent him a Christmas card every year. He'd moved to Massachusetts some time ago, to live with his daughter's family. "But I want you to agree, right now, to leave when I get his answer. When he writes and says my father never had any other children, you will leave this house and never bother me again. Understood?"
"Sure," Della Lee said. "But calling would be faster."
"I don't have his number. I just have his daughter's address in Massachusetts."
"Ever heard of dialing information?"
"I don't know his daughter's married name."
"You could find that out from anyone in town."
"I'm writing him."
"If you really wanted to know the truth, you'd call."
"I already know the truth, Della Lee. I don't need proof." Josey closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "Did it ever occur to you that I was doing this to give you time to leave? Time to make plans?"
"No. That never crossed my mind."
"A week, maybe two, and I'll get a response," Josey said, putting pen to paper. "That should give you enough time."
"Okay. But be sure to ask him about
all
of Marco's affairs. Ask him about the other woman, besides my mother, he paid off."
Josey had gotten as far as
Dear Mr. Lamar.
She stopped and turned to Della Lee. She felt hollow, and she wanted candy from her closet. When she finished this letter, she would take armfuls out, then close the door on Della Lee and eat and eat and eat until the hollow went away. "That's a little over the top, don't you think?"
"Marco did everything in a big way."
"You're really starting to get on my nerves. Is there anything about my life you haven't insulted yet?" She turned back to the letter.
I apologize for writing out of the blue like
this. I hope you're well.
"I don't know. Let me see your teeth."
"I think I hate you."
I've recently heard an upsetting rumor
and only you, as my father's lawyer and trusted confidant, can invalidate it. I can't go to my mother with this, you understand. I
don't want to upset her.
"Sibling rivalry," Della Lee said. "It happens to the best of us."
Did my father have any other children? Specifically, did he
have a child with Greenie Baker?
Chloe couldn't bear
the thought of waiting hours to try the stinging-nettle tea. What if this was the thing that was going to make everything all right? She started getting excited about feeling better. As soon as she drank the tea, she would know what to do. She would make a decision she could live with, and she would finally stop hurting. At four o'clock she closed the shop early.
When she left, Hank at the security gate asked what was her hurry. She happily told him she was going home to make tea. He didn't ask her any more questions, just looked at her with sympathy, like losing Jake was making her lose her sanity. And she didn't want to think about how close to the truth that might be.
She dumped her purse and coat on the floor when she got home, and went directly to the kitchen. She ferreted out her tea infuser, then boiled water in a cup in the microwave. When she finally took that first sip, she was surprised to find it bitter. She had imagined it sweeter. She didn't want to put sugar in it for fear that would change its power, so she gulped the rest of it. The warm empty cup still in her hands, she stood still for a moment, hoping the effect would be immediate. It wasn't.
She put the cup down and started to pace. This was worse than waiting for the results of the at-home pregnancy test she took two years ago. She and Jake always said they were going to wait to have kids, wait until they were married and had enough in savings that they didn't have to be beholden to Jake's parents. She had been scared, but Jake had been so excited. The results had been negative, of course, but she would never forget how buoyant the thought of being a father had made him.
That couldn't be the reason he'd cheated on her, could it? Did he want a child so much he was willing to have one with another woman?
Half an hour later, several things were definitely more clear. She decided to take a long bath, not a shower, later that evening. She decided to have pesto pizza for dinner. She also decided to wait to vacuum until next week.
But nothing was any more clear when it came to Jake.
She stopped pacing, that familiar heaviness settling back in her body, weighing down her limbs. It wasn't working. The tea wasn't going to tell her what to do.
She went to the dining-room table and sat, then put her head down, resting her cheek against the smooth, cool surface. She felt tears come to her eyes. Why had she thought it would be so easy? She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she blinked a few times to clear the blurriness, then saw that she was eye-level with the salt and pepper shakers. There, tucked in between them, was the cocktail napkin with Julian's number on it. She'd stuck it there days ago.
She reached for it, then sat up and stared at it.
Everything came back to this. She needed to know who had caused Jake to stray before she could decide if she could forgive him. There would be no moving on until she knew.
She turned when she heard a rustling coming from the kitchen, a small sneaky noise, like mice scurrying around. She got up to see that battle- s carred
Finding Forgiveness
had knocked the paper envelope of stinging nettle off the counter.
She picked up the envelope and put it in a drawer. "Stop that," she said to the book beside the toaster.
When she got back to the table,
Old Love, New
Direction
was now lying on top of the napkin with Julian's number on it.
The old bait and switch.
She pulled the napkin out from under the book with an exasperated sigh. She went to the phone and dialed quickly so her books wouldn't have any more say in the matter.
"Hello?" Julian answered. His voice was strangely calming. She sat down, right where she was, in the middle of the floor. He was that good.
"Julian, this is Chloe."
"Chloe sweetheart, I've been waiting to hear from you."
"I'm sorry about Saturday night."
"Don't be. I know how a man gets when he thinks he's lost the love of his life."
"I know you do," she said with sympathy. "Still no word from your girlfriend?" "No."
"Have you, um, learned anything more about who Jake might have slept with?"
"As a matter of fact, I have. But I'm hurt. Is that the only reason you called?"
"No!" she said immediately, mortified that she'd hurt his feelings. "No, of course not."
"Let's get together tonight. I'll tell you then."
"Why won't you tell me now?"
"Because I'd like to think I can also be a friend to you, someone to commiserate with, not just a source of information about your cheating boyfriend."
That made sense. At least she thought it did. "We can't go to Jiggery's. Jake might be there."
"My favorite weekday haunt is Nite Lite. Meet me there around nine tonight."
Julian hung up before she could say no.
It took a moment before she was sure she could stand, a few minutes more before she could walk. Of course she would go to see Julian tonight to find out. But that's not to say she wanted to go to Nite Lite alone. She knew it was a rough place.
Chloe chewed on her lip for a minute, then she went to her purse. She dug out the card with Josey's number written on it and dialed.
She heard the phone pick up on the other end, then she heard Josey say, "Yes, I know it's my phone, but I've never heard it ring before. And do you really think blocking my way is going to keep me from getting to my candy? What do you mean I've already answered? Oh." She heard Josey put her cell phone to her ear and say, "Hello?"
"Josey?"
"Yes?"
"It's Chloe. Am I interrupting something?"
"No, no," Josey said, laughing, but it sounded forced. "I rarely use this cell phone. I was actually trying to remember how to answer it."
"I was wondering if you would do me a favor."
"Of course I will. What is it?"
She liked that Josey said yes without even knowing what the favor was. That made Chloe feel good. She'd called
Josey first for this very reason. "I know this is a lot to ask, but would you go to a bar with me tonight?"
"A bar," Josey repeated.
"It's a place I've never been to before and I'd feel better if someone went with me."
There was a long pause. "I've never actually been to a bar before," Josey said.
"Then now's the perfect time to experience one firsthand! I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Someone there has some information for me that could really help me with my situation with Jake."
"What kind of information?"
Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't want to tell Josey. It made her sound trite and desperate. "He knows who Jake slept with," she finally said.
"Chloe," Josey said gently, "is this something you really want to know?"
"It's something I
have
to know. Please come with me."
Josey took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll go."
Nite Lite was located
on the winding road leading up to the ski resort. It was set back into the trees, with a large gravel parking lot in front. The sign by the road read:
hamburgers! karaoke! cold beer!
Josey figured it had probably been designed to attract the college kids who were on their way up the mountain to ski, but from the looks of things when Josey and Chloe entered, it ended up being a hangout for bearded men in flannel shirts and a couple of rough younger people who wanted to play pool in the back room.
At least there wasn't much of a risk of anyone recognizing her and telling her mother.
They stopped at the door, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness. "I don't see him here yet. Let's get something to drink," Chloe said, going to the bar.
Josey followed, feeling out of sorts and conspicuous. Chloe had given Josey her address, the Firehouse Apartments downtown, and Josey had picked her up after Margaret had gone to bed. Della Lee had made happy squealing noises when she found out Josey was going out with Chloe, but Josey was still so angry about the things she'd said about her father that she'd left without taking any of Della Lee's unsolicited wardrobe advice. It was something she'd regretted when Chloe had opened her apartment door, taken one look at Josey in the same black dress and coat she'd worn earlier that day, and grabbed a bold yellow and red rugby-striped scarf off the coat stand. She'd looped it around Josey's neck and said, "Now, you have color. Perfect!"