Ledge Walkers (16 page)

"Stupid?” she fumed even louder. “You should have been freaked out if you weren't expecting a car. Stupid?

No! That was probably the only thing you did that wasn't stupid—and we were stupid for not calling to warn you. What was stupid was ever getting yourself in a situation where you had to hide in a ditch in the first place.”

She took a deep, desperate breath and continued, “You get a parade of people through here thanking you. Well, how goddamn noble of you! Did it ever even cross either of your minds what the hell we were thinking? I thought I lost you!” Then she started wildly pounding my legs.

I seized her and just held on as the tears burst forth.

She shrieked, “What would I do? What the hell would I do?"

Now I was crying, swept into a scene that felt intolerable but for different reasons than they usually evoked.

Holly teared up, too, as she rubbed Claudia's leg. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I just held on.

Her sobbing slowly eased, and in one quick motion, she swept us both back to a prone position. She clutched me and calmly said, “So I've decided that we're just going to stay here like this and never get up. Just skin and nothing to come between."

In any other context, I would have joked and thought that sounded pretty good. But this was different. Scary different.

Holly proved the brave one again. “Sweetie, she's not some porcelain doll you can stick on a shelf. She's Kate.

She's got to move. She's got to do stupid things. She's got to stick her nose in everybody's business and call it a press pass.” She smiled, expecting no wrath.

"I can't do this, Holly!” she screamed. “I can't."

"Sure, you can. Youare doing it,” she countered. “We all grew up to be strong, healthy women. Remember?”

When Claudia remained silent, Holly looked behind her and asked loudly, “What did we grow up to be, girls?"

A choir of strong, healthy women shouted, “Strong, healthy women!"

Claudia sniffed and then almost smiled. “It's overrated, girls. Sometimes it just plain sucks."

"It does, chickie,” Holly readily agreed. “Sometimes it really does. Buy hey, when you can't be one, chances are pretty damn good that one of your sisters here still is and can take up the slack.” She stood up and smiled at her, putting a hand on each hip. “Right now, it's my turn, so let Kate go. Just back away."

Claudia still did not move, but it felt different. I was not ‘dear life’ she hung onto anymore; I was a point she pushed.

Holly called to Laura, “Babe, do you do hostage negotiation or don't you have to do that with homicide victims?"

"Promise something,” Laura instructed. “Promise her anything, even if you don't have any intention of letting her have it."

Slight, cautious laughter—the mood lightened by one notch.

Holly frantically thought and looked around the room. “Take her tea cups, Maggie. Quick! Get Earl!” After Earl had been moved out of reach, she said, “Okay, Kitterman, if you ever want to see Earl alive again, you'll let go of Kate."

"Hol,” Laura interrupted, “that's a threat not a promise. You've turned into the hostage taker not the negotiator."

"Oh, yeah,” she agreed, laughing. She paused to think. “Okay, Claudia, I promise to keep you warm if you let Kate go."

As simple as that, Claudia raised both arms in surrender. I threw on my T-shirt, rolled over her, and landed on the floor in the sleeping bag's overhang. I scooted out, slipped into my sweatpants, and stood. In the very same instant, Holly landed behind Claudia on the couch and draped her arm over her. I swiftly bent to kiss them both on the forehead and then retreated through the back door.

Laura had a lit cigarette waiting for me, and I might have inhaled its entirety with one breath. She put her hands on my shoulders and whispered, “She's okay. You're okay. Just let it be."

Laura and I talked utter nonsense through a couple more cigarettes. I kept my back to the porch—afraid, I think.

I understood at the very same time I had no clue. I knew intellectually that made no sense; it was one of those emotional things that made perfect sense. I knew I was not going anywhere; I knew she was not going anywhere.

I vowed to trust that whatever we had to do, we'd get through.

Eventually, the conversation on the porch became louder and freer. I figured it was safe to turn around, concluding that they had safely coaxed Claudia back into the mix. As I turned, however, I was taken back at the scene I beheld.

Holly still reclined behind Claudia, but now Janice had entered the equation. She sat pretzel-legged in front of the couch, massaging Claudia's neck to a jumble of moans and groans. Holly stroked Claudia's hair. Alison massaged a horizontal Susan on the other side of the porch. Maggie sprawled next to her, knees up, using both hands to twirl Susan's hair between her fingers. Like a manic's EEG, conversations bounced wildly: nail polish, irises, tofu, shoes, whales, yoga, and the bitchy receptionist at the Y.

I just stared, mouth agape. I swatted Laura on the arm, and she began trying to absorb the scene, as well.

"What the hell is this?” she finally yelled. “I thought there was no sympathy for hangovers! If I induce a hangover, would I get my own personal masseuse, too?"

"You already have one,” Holly replied with a wink and a smile that set into motion a quick round of goo-goo eyes.

Then Alison asked, “Who's up for the next meeting? I think we should have massage for the entire weekend!"

"And what do you propose we do about Laura and Holly?” an unusually relaxed Maggie asked.

"Oh yeah,” Alison replied. “I didn't think about them."

Neither Holly nor Laura appreciated being talked about as if they weren't in the room. Jaw dropping interrupted goo-goo eyes but only momentarily.

"I know,” Janice piped in. “I'll put a little super glue in their oil. Tell them there's this cheek-to-cheek massage they'd really like. Butt to butt, we'll glue them together."

Janice was fitting in quite nicely. I found myself scared for her.

Holly flew from the couch, scrambled out the back door, and nearly toppled me over in the process. Balancing on the same wavelength, Holly and Laura stood butt to butt. Oblivious to all living things, they proceeded to determine exactly where backward arms could reach. It was not a pretty sight, but it was damn funny.

"We could do it, hon,” Laura reassured her, turning around and pulling her in like the last puzzle piece.

"Do youwant to do it, babe?"

"Kate, is there a hose out there?” Maggie yelled. “Kris isn't here to stop them. Spray them down before it's too late."

"I would, but I have a feeling they'd like it."

"Is there anything theydon't like?"

"Only one thing,” I said. I knew the danger in messing with the one true weakness, but unheeding, I pried and slid myself between them. I put a palm on each and pushed them apart. The distance was just enough that their reaching arms could not meet. “New club bylaw, ladies,” I announced. “No activity that requires a distance less than this."

There was laughter, threats to quit, a request for a tape measure: downright obnoxiousness. It was the crescendo before the lull that would send them all on their way, back to the real world, away from the insanity that at times seemed like salvation itself.

Urging Claudia to stay where she was, they all said their goodbyes to her on the couch. I went into the house with them, as they collected their belonging and headed out the door. I felt sad, but after several of them decided to irritate me by making the bellmen do hisding, dong, burp, spit, ding thing, I got over it quickly.Go!

Go already!

And then I lingered.

I paced. I paced some more. It was stupid. I knew it was stupid, but I dawdled in the house. I had avoided Claudia since being extricated from the couch, and now I feared facing her.

That fine, cutting edge of trust threatened to slice my feet when I hesitantly made my way back to the porch.

I looked at her. She looked at me.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Are we okay?"

She nodded.

"Am I okay?"

She laughed. “Areyou?"

"I think so.” I laughed.

"Then come here.” She lifted the edge of the sleeping bag.

I gave her a look that questioned my future liberty. That was a first.

She smiled. “I promise to let you go—just not too far. I love you, and I just get scared of losing you. I'm sorry.”

She raised the sleeping bag higher. “It's still safe in here. I promise."

"Always?"

"Always! Now get in here before I am forced tobe aggressive, be be aggressive!"

My very own cheerleader! Imagine that.

I slid into the bliss of the Symbiotic Slumber Chamber. It was indeed safe there.

She held me and then ordered, “But don't get too cozy. We have half an hour. Then we go do a better job on Highway DWD and check on the orphaned Muse."

Do-gooders!

I knew I could do no gooder than this.

Note to self: Put Chapter 2 in the “McCallister” file. May be good for getting a crime-scene scoop at a later date.