Barefoot Girls (23 page)

More suggestions were thrown out. Some were rejected with the “good one” verbal pat, some were written in blue marker on the pad. Keeley wondered if Brooke had purposefully matched her marker to her room’s décor. None of the written ideas were really original. Wasn’t that what they were looking for?

She listened to two more bad ideas before she had a flash. White! Wasn’t white the color of hope? Wasn’t hope the whole reason they were here – a hope for a cure? She had to say something. The committee needed Keeley’s fresh ideas, no matter how Brooke felt about her.

“What about a White Ball? Everything in white, white flowers, white tie?” Keeley said.

Rebecca squealed, “Oh! I love it!”

Brooke looked at Keeley and frowned a little. “Why white? What does that signify?”

“Maybe we could call it the White Hope Ball? Or just use the word hope?” Keeley said.

Brooke rolled her eyes and sighed. After a beat, several of the other women in the circle followed suit. What had she done wrong now?

Brooke smiled and shook her head at Keeley. “Really. We can’t use White Hope. Don’t you understand the racial significance of that phrase? I’m sorry, but let’s forget about that one. Anyone else?”

Really? She wasn’t going to get even one little “good” out of that one? Rebecca loved it and Keeley could swear that prior to Brooke’s eye-rolling demonstration, she had heard a murmur of approval among the women. Keeley hadn’t felt this full-throttle rejection from another woman in a long time. Her mother, of course, had not only rejected her, but – well, she didn’t want to think about that. But Brooke and her attitude reminded her so much of someone from her past, and it wasn’t her mother. Who was it?

Stung into silence, Keeley sat quietly for the rest of the brainstorming session. Her idea had been a good one, she knew it. And it had been summarily rejected, not because it was a bad idea, but because Brooke had decided she hated Keeley. Was it because Keeley was late? Was that all it had taken?

The group finally agreed on “Spring Forward”, which Keeley thought was meaningless and confusing with its implication of a relationship to Daylight Savings Time, but they were all very self-congratulatory and smug about it. The group rose and Brooke led them back down the same long hall that Keeley had entered through. Not rushing this time, Keeley had a chance to glance into the rooms they passed. In one, there was a portrait of two young women sitting together on a green couch, both in artful poses of ease. Keeley paused when she realized that one of the young women was Brooke when she was a teenager, looking very serious and plain. Lounging at her side was another young woman with blond hair.

Rebecca stopped beside Keeley and followed her gaze. “Oh, that’s Brooke and her younger sister, Anne. Anne looks just like their mother, even blond like her. Wait…, that’s interesting!”

“What?” Keeley asked and looked at Rebecca who was still looking at the portrait, her eyes narrowed.

“Doesn’t Anne look a lot like you? Really, it’s remarkable!”

Keeley looked back at the portrait. There was a resemblance: the blond hair, the small pert nose and wide-set blue eyes. How different the sisters looked. How unpleasant for Brooke, having presumably received the significantly less attractive features of her father.

Was that it? Had there been a terrible sibling rivalry between Brooke and her sister? Was that why Brooke had reacted to her the way she had? If so, Keeley might as well give up now. No matter how much the committee might need her, Brooke was the head of it and, therefore, unavoidable. Keeley would have to make excuses. She would outright lie if she had to. The last thing she needed right now was this mess.

“Yes, very strange,” Keeley said and started walking again. Rebecca, lingering for a beat longer to stare at the portrait, had to jog a little to catch up with her.

“Really!” Rebecca whispered as they approached where Brooke was standing by the open door, bidding farewell to her guests. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before!”

“Shhh!” Keeley shushed her as quietly as she could. She didn’t want Brooke to overhear them.

Brooke blew kisses to one of the departing women and then turned her dark laser-like eyes on Keeley and then Rebecca. “Rebecca! So glad you brought Keeley into the fold! We need fresh blood.”

She looked back at Keeley and smiled that awful smile again. Keeley cringed a little. Fresh blood, I’m sure you’d love that. I’ve got to get away from here.

Keeley wasn’t sure if Brooke had seen her reaction, but all of the sudden, her arm was gripped painfully by the woman’s bony hand, and her toothy smile was closer now, too close.

“Such ideas! Really glad you contributed to the discussion. So many of the girls are afraid of saying something silly. You know. Anyway, I’m really counting on you, Keeley! I’ve heard your husband knows everyone and I’m sure he can fill at least a few tables. Also, didn’t I hear that he’s helping Susan Blackburn with her work with City Harvest? Offered her some space at the Hotel Vieux for their annual ball next April, didn’t he? Imagine if Susan played at our event! Now that would sell out all of our tickets! I’m really hoping you can talk to Ben about it. Just see – who knows?” Brooke said, releasing her iron grip on Keeley’s arm and patting it.

“Oh,” Keeley said, confused. How did Ben get drawn into this? He hated society stuff like charity balls. Susan was a friend, and the hotel, which he co-owned with partners, had simply been available. “Ah, I don’t know. I guess we’ll see! Thanks so much for having me.”

Brooke continued patting her arm. “Of course you’ll be able to convince him to help. He’d do anything for you, wouldn’t he? ”

Keeley decided not to answer this and just smiled.

Rebecca spoke up. “Of course she’ll get Ben to help. Let me tell you, if Keeley told him she wanted the Empire State Building, he’d get it for her. He really would! Thanks a bunch, Brooke! Oh, and I’d really like to be on the entertainment subcommittee if I can.”

Brooke turned her attention to Rebecca, stopping her arm-patting at last. Keeley’s upper arm throbbed from being crushed by the woman’s pincers and then patted into oblivion. She wondered if there would be bruising.

Brooke said, “Oh, Rebecca! But we need you on the decorations committee! You’re always so good at that. No, we’re putting Keeley on the entertainment committee. What with her getting Susan Blackburn and all. Well, ladies, I’ll look forward to seeing you at the next planning meeting in two weeks, and you, Keeley, at our first meeting of the entertainment committee next Monday! We’ll meet here at 3, okay?” Brooke’s smile was almost genuine when she said the last.

They said goodbye and then waited for the elevator in the vestibule. Once the elevator doors had closed, Rebecca started gushing. “Oh, my God! Brooke really likes you! Do you know how impossible it is to get on the entertainment committee? It’s usually just her and Tatiana Barrington! I’ve begged for years, but never. Always the decorations committee. Oh, I’m so jealous!”

Keeley looked at Rebecca. She looked so hopeful and happy; how was she going to tell her?

“I don’t know, Rebecca. I don’t think I can do this after all.”

Rebecca startled. “What? No! You have to! Don’t you understand? You can’t turn down Brooke. You just can’t.”

Keeley shook her head. “I’m sure she’ll get over it. And I just don’t have the time. I didn’t realize what a big deal this was!”

Rebecca’s eyes grew very wide and her face grew paler than usual. “It is a big deal. I-“

But the doors to elevator were opening and Rebecca’s mouth snapped shut. They walked together through the lobby and then outside. Rebecca paused on the sidewalk, looking away down the street towards Central Park, which was a blaze of color between the buildings with the leaves of the trees turning brilliant shades of red, orange and gold.

“Rebecca?” Keeley said.  She wanted to hurry through their goodbyes. There was a glass of wine with her name on it at home. Just the thing to soothe her. Her nerves were so jangly she could practically hear them.

Rebecca spun on her heel to face Keeley. Her face was a bright hot red. “Do you know that you’re not just committing social suicide, you’re dragging me down with you? I did this for you as a favor! I knew how out of things you were, how you had no friends in New York. Every time Marty and I go to a party, there you are, standing by yourself or talking to one of the waiters. Unless you’re clinging to your husband, that is.”

She panted a little before continuing. “I thought I’d help you! Brooke is
the
person to know. This charity is
the
charity! And now you’re just going to walk away? Do you even know what that will do to me? Brooke will never forgive me. I promised her you would be great for the committee. I told her about Ben’s connections. She’s even let you in the committee of committees! Oh, you better not-“

Suddenly, Rebecca's bluster faded and her face crumpled. She covered her face with cupped hands, turned and started walking quickly away toward the park.

Keeley, after being rooted to the ground in shock, burst into motion and had to run to catch up. Her high heels teetered as she ran and she nearly fell.  “Rebecca! Rebecca! Please! Please stop!”

Rebecca stopped, still facing the park, her head hanging. Keeley caught up with her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! Of course I’ll do it! Of course! You have been a friend to me here. A good friend.” Suddenly, she wanted to cry too. It was true. Other than Ben and service personnel at the parties they attended, no one spoke to her except Rebecca. All efforts were rejected, even by the men, who were keenly watched by their wives.

Rebecca pawed through her purse and pulled out a plastic packet of tissues and opened one to wipe at her dripping eyes. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I just…this committee, this event, is really important.  I worked really hard to get in with this crowd. I don’t come from the kind of money these people do. It’s all Marty’s money. My dad was an insurance salesman. I grew up in Great Neck not Greenwich. I’ve been winging it here and somehow I managed to get in Brooke’s good graces. She can make or break you, you know. Ben could lose a lot of business if Brooke got mad.”

“You’re kidding,” Keeley said. Her stomach clenched. Oh, God.

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I’m not. Anyway, I have to go. Imagine if someone saw me crying on the street like this?”

Keeley reached out to touch Rebecca’s shoulder. “You can count on me, Rebecca. Really.”

Rebecca looked at her and smiled a little. “Thanks, Keeley. I knew I could count on you. You know, Susan Blackburn would be perfect. That song “Angel”?  Always makes me cry. It would be perfect! You see how Brooke is great at this stuff?”

Keeley nodded, afraid to say what she really thought of Brooke. They had to part on friendly terms. Keeley realized in that moment how much she needed Rebecca’s warmth and sweetness in this harsh and lonely city and she would do what she had to in order to keep her new friend. The Barefooters, each living an hour or more from the city, might as well have been on another planet.

At home, before going to the library’s wet bar for her desperately-needed glass of wine, Keeley found a plainly wrapped package sitting in the mail tray in the foyer. It was addressed to her but had no return address. It was postmarked Westport, CT.  She knew too many people in Westport to pin it down to one person. She tore open the brown packaging paper. Inside was her daughter’s novel. Who had sent it? She felt around in the packaging for a note and then flipped the pages of the book, but found nothing. What did this mean?

She still hadn’t read it. She knew how wrong it was, but couldn’t bring herself to open it. Ever since the review, she was afraid of it, afraid of what she’d discover in its pages.

Going back to the packaging, she tore it apart, looking for the note that had to accompany it. There was nothing, only brown paper packaging and her name and address typed neatly on the label, the letters black and plain, pointing at her.

Chapter 21

It was early morning and Hannah sat in the icy kitchen listening to each message from Daniel with growing dread.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s me. Are you still on the island? I thought I’d hear from you by now. What’s going on? Call me back when you get a chance.”

“Hey, it’s me again. Thought I’d try back. Why is your phone turned off? Now I’m starting to worry. You’re all alone out there. Something could’ve happened. Please call me back when you get this.”

“Hannah, it’s Daniel. I’ve been thinking. Are you avoiding me? You said everything was fine, but... listen, you freaked out the other night and now you haven’t called me in days, ever since you took off for that island. What’s going on? You need to tell me. Don’t just leave me in the dark like this. Please call me back. Okay?”

“Hey. It’s midnight. I don’t know if you’ve gotten any of these messages. I really don’t know what to do here. I know you’re trying to figure stuff out about your mom, but I’m pretty sure it’s also about us. We need to talk. I’m really hoping you’re okay and you’re just out of touch right now. But just so you know, I’m coming out there tomorrow if I don’t hear from you by noon.  I’ve got tomorrow off and then I’m scheduled to fly, so it’s tomorrow or bust. I hope you’ll call. I love you, Hannah. I won’t let you go, you know. Please call and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that this bad feeling I’m having is something I ate, okay? Okay. God, I can’t stand this. All right. Love you. Bye.”