September Canvas (27 page)

“It sounded like you called her an ‘immoral bitch,’ actually,” Faythe said coolly. “Sounds bad enough if you ask me. How would you improve on that if you wanted to make it actually sound worse? Well, I suppose you could call her a
fucking
immoral bitch.” Faythe tilted her head and looked pensively at Deanna. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That does sound worse,” Deanna said weakly. She tried to signal Faythe wordlessly not to antagonize Gloria any further, but it was probably too late.

“Eh, Ms. Hamilton. May I call you Faythe?” Gloria actually squirmed, which was something Deanna had never seen or thought possible.

“You can call me anything you want, as long as ‘immoral bitch’ isn’t part of it.”

“Well, eh, ha ha, I see. Of course not.” Gloria coughed. “Deanna and I go back quite a few years, and we haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

“Who can blame Deanna for being mad at you, shocked even, when you’re not doing more to set the record straight?” Faythe looked genuinely concerned, as if she really was trying to figure out Gloria’s dilemma. “I’m sure you’ve racked your brain endlessly about how to get the point across without causing your daughter any unnecessary harm.” She patted Gloria’s arm. “Enough to give a poor mother sleepless nights, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it sure is,” Gloria said, and nodded eagerly. “A mother does what she has to, to protect her offspring. It’s the law of nature.”

“Sure is,” Faythe echoed. She paused, glancing between them.

“It’s when the nature of
things
is on a collision course with the law of
man
that things can get hairy.”

“Exact—what?” Gloria staggered sideways, only a fraction of an inch, but it was obvious to Deanna, and she knew from Faythe’s pleased look that she’d seen it too. Deanna had given up trying to discreetly signal Faythe; instead she took the more direct approach.

“Gloria has invisible ways to help people see things her way. No matter what the law is, you could say.” Deanna hoped Faythe would see beyond the jest in her voice.

“But you see, that’s where I come in. I know you’re the top hyena in this town, Gloria, with all the rest of the hyena-wannabes nearly falling over themselves to be on your good side. I suspect they’re a bit afraid too. They don’t want to become your next target.” Faythe wasn’t speaking tongue-in-cheek anymore, and Deanna could only watch what she feared was a complete train wreck right before her eyes.

“I never!” Gloria spat, her eyes actually bulging.

“Well, Grantville may be your playing field of choice, your home ballpark, Gloria,” Faythe continued, undaunted. “However, Grantville, as lovely as it is, is a small speck on the map of America. Where I reside, Manhattan, New York, the network’s studios, we reach and influence millions on national television. As you may know, we cover all sorts of stories, and this vendetta, based on lies and emotional extortion, would really tug at the American heartstrings. And if you think I’m joking, think again. No matter what you’ve got up your cashmere sleeves, it’s not enough.”

Gloria’s jaw had slacked, but now she slammed her mouth shut.

Deanna had listened to Faythe’s fiery speech with a sinking heart, knowing she had to stop her before she made Gloria cause irreparable damage.

“Faythe,” Deanna said, her voice husky and barely audible.

“Faythe, it’s not necessary. Gloria and I…understand each other.”

“Deanna?” Faythe frowned. “She’s hurt you for years by spreading these damn lies. You can’t let that—”

“Faythe. Please.” Deanna wondered if she could stop this new woman standing in front of her. This was the professional Faythe intertwined with the loyal, caring Faythe. “I’ve got this. I really do.”

“I’m glad you’re not going to allow this woman to meddle.” Gloria spoke in a low snarl. “She may be from the big city, but that doesn’t mean anything in this town. You know what you did to Savannah was wrong. I see the way this big-city woman looks at you. It’s wrong. Morally wrong, and wrong in the eyes of God—”

“Enough.” Gloria’s self-righteousness made Deanna’s blood boil.

No way would she stand idly by while Savannah’s mother poured her poison over Faythe. Deanna stepped closer, towering over the other woman, and for the first time, Deanna raised her voice at Gloria.

“You’ve made my life a living hell for the last two years, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to insult Faythe under my roof, just because she cares enough to defend me. And don’t you
dare
drag religion into this. You started attending church when your husband ran for office, but you don’t do that as much anymore, do you? You’re nothing but a hypocrite,” Deanna thundered.

“Think of what you’re saying. Pick your words very carefully, Deanna,” Gloria hissed, sounding not half as triumphant as she did only moments earlier.

“You’re fond of making threats,” Faythe said. “And you’re holding some sort of Damocles sword above Deanna’s head.” She leaned her hip against the dresser inside the door, folding her arms over her chest.

“The only real power you possess these days is your position on several private school boards.” Faythe blinked. “Oh.” Gloria went off on another tirade, but Deanna could only stare at Faythe and watch her connect the dots. “Faythe.”

“Tell me, Gloria,” Faythe said, pale now. “How do you sleep at night?”

“Don’t.” Deanna pleaded now. No matter how they cornered Gloria, no matter how wrong Gloria’s actions were, all that mattered at the end of the day was Miranda’s well-being. “Don’t, Faythe. I can’t risk it.”

“I don’t understand. She’s blackmailing you into compliance and silence.” Faythe was clearly still trying to wrap her brain around everything.

“It doesn’t matter.” Deanna raised her voice when Faythe didn’t understand. “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter.
I
don’t matter.” She gestured emphatically, then sagged against the wall. “Miranda’s innocent, and she’s the only one who does.”

Faythe wanted to reach across the table and shake some sense into Deanna. After they got rid of Gloria Mueller or, rather, watched her run between the maples to her car and drive off in a cloud of fallen leaves, Faythe suggested they keep their date and go to the coffeehouse as intended. Deanna hadn’t said a word on the road into Grantville and only uttered a few while ordering her coffee and turkey sandwich. Faythe tried several light topics, but now frustration was making her angry, despite her best intentions to remain calm and understanding.

“Come on,” Faythe said, and sighed impatiently. “Are you so mad at me that you can’t even think of any insults?” Deanna looked up from her coffee mug in apparent confusion.

“What? No. No, no, I’m not mad. Not at you, at least.”

“Then talk to me.” Faythe scooted closer, leaning her elbows on the table. “Please, don’t shut me out. Even yelling at me beats the silent treatment.”

“I’m sorry.” Deanna looked stricken. Had she gone so deep into her old habit of internalizing that she hadn’t noticed how she simply switched off? “Guess I’m not very good company.”

“That’s not it. Not at all.” Faythe took Deanna’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m not talking about being entertained. I want to help you, be part of the solution to this mess. Gloria will cause even more trouble from now on unless we do something while she’s trying to regroup.” Faythe had managed to rattle Savannah’s mother and now was the perfect time to act.

Deanna winced, but didn’t pull her hand free. “Why can’t you understand that I can’t risk Miranda’s well-being?” Emanating pain and bewilderment, Deanna looked so vulnerable that Faythe wanted to wrap her arms around her and never let go.

“In your life, Miranda is the only constant, and she comes first. That’s great and how it’s supposed to be. Irene Costa was clear that you’re the main reason Miranda’s doing so well. But do you really think that Miranda will benefit from having an increasingly stressed-out, blackmailed sister who is filled with anxiety and constantly looking over her shoulder? That’s bound to come back to bite you. And her.”

“I can’t see any way out of it that doesn’t risk everything we’ve accomplished.” Torment gave Deanna’s voice a strangled, husky tone.

“Miranda takes two steps forward and one step back at the best of times. More often than not, she takes two forward and three back.”

“I know. And what exactly is Gloria Mueller threatening if you don’t comply?”

“Not here.” Deanna looked around the room. Faythe couldn’t see anyone paying them any special interest, but nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go over to the park. It’s a gorgeous day and we can take more coffee.”

“All right.” Deanna looked ready to bolt to avoid the conversation, but followed Faythe as she ordered two more cups of latte to go.

The day was cool, and their breath created small misty clouds as they warmed their hands around the paper cups. “How about there?” Faythe pointed at a park bench by an ancient-looking oak tree. “That’s out of earshot.”

“Why not? Not many people around.”

Faythe sat down on the bench and patted the spot next to her.

Deanna hesitated only briefly, but her body language showed how uncomfortable she was.
She looks afraid.
Faythe wanted to convey her encouragement and support, but a public display right now would be the last thing Deanna wanted. “Okay, tell me what Gloria Mueller’s up to.” 

“When Savannah told us her mother had read her diary and knew the truth about what she’d done, or, rather, what I hadn’t done, I realized that Gloria knew she and her family would lose face. That all makes sense now. I never could figure out why she was so vindictive, when all her friends and allies were on her side anyway.” Deanna pulled her left leg up and hugged it against her.

“You can’t underestimate her influence. She’s on several school boards in this town—the public one, as well as private schools. Gloria can be persuasive and charm the pants off anyone when she wants to. That’s why she’s such a successful fund-raiser, among other things.

When she told me she’d make sure I never set foot in Miranda’s school again, I believed her. She was going to pull all the strings she needed to make that happen, if I didn’t willingly leave my position at Grantville High. I wanted to fight, Faythe,” Deanna said throatily, the coffee mug shaking in her hands. “I wanted to take that damn school and its board to court and make them try to prove their allegations, but I couldn’t. If they had cut me off from Miranda, she’d lose so much of what she’s learned.”

“Your mother—”

“Is not my strongest supporter, as you could tell at the outing? She thinks I hate her, and I know she’s disappointed in me.” Faythe wasn’t ready to believe what Deanna said, but said, “Go on.” 

“When I tried to bluff Gloria, saying that I’d talk to my parents, she showed just how far she would go to keep her position in this damn town.” Deanna drew a deep, trembling breath. “She told me she’d talk to Miranda directly and tell her I’d never visit her again because I was tired of her. That from now on, I had new friends and she wasn’t good enough, especially since her stepsisters were normal and more fun to be with. Well, you get the picture.”

“Damn her to hell.” Faythe could hardly believe her ears and suspected she was as pale as Deanna was. “She’d take her own petty vengeance out on your autistic, defenseless sister for something her own daughter did?”

“Yup.” Deanna exhaled audibly. “I can’t risk her doing anything to Miranda. I just can’t.”

“There must be a way around this. You can’t let her hold this over your head until Miranda graduates. That’s several years from now!” Faythe was furious, angrier than she’d been in a long time. “We have to do something.”

“There’s no
we
in this mess,” Deanna said sadly. “There’s only me and what I need to do to keep Miranda from paying the price for something she knows nothing about. It doesn’t matter that it’s unfair. Miranda can’t get caught in the crossfire. It would take only Gloria minutes to destroy what it’s taken years to build.”

“Oh, we won’t risk anything.” Faythe’s mind raced with different approaches to their problem. “We have to figure out a way to get Miranda out of her way and make Gloria harmless in the process.”

“I’ve tried to think of something, but haven’t come up with anything that will work. Maybe I’m blind because I’ve lived with this for so long, but it seems undoable.”

“Sweetie.” Faythe took Deanna’s hand. “It’s not undoable. Not when we pool our resources. I know what we need to do first.”

“What?” Deanna held on tight to Faythe’s hand, which she took as a sign of trust. Hopefully Deanna knew she wasn’t alone in this anymore.

“We need to talk to your mother and tell her everything.”

“No, I—”

“Stop, listen to me.” Faythe shook her head at Deanna’s gut reaction. “This is a matter of emergency damage control. You need to bury any hatchets when it comes to your family. You want to put Miranda first, right? Well, your family needs to do so too, if it’s going to happen.”

Deanna stared at her with eyes so icy blue, Faythe began to think she’d refuse. Eventually, Deanna’s expression mellowed. “For Miranda,” she said quietly.

“And for you.” Faythe squeezed Deanna’s hand. “You matter just as much as your sister, you know. You deserve to be free from this.”

“Thank you.” Sipping her coffee, Deanna didn’t take her eyes off Faythe, who wondered what Deanna was thinking. The pensive expression on her face was undecipherable.

“Okay, time to go back to the house and brainstorm,” Faythe said, “and start making phone calls.”

“God.” Deanna freed her hand and tugged at Faythe’s low ponytail. “I wonder if Gloria could ever guess what she’s in for.” 

* * *

“Mrs. Bodell? Angela? This is Faythe Hamilton. We met at your daughter Miranda’s school. Both Miranda and Deanna are okay, but we have a bit of a situation here and we need your help. To be blunt, both your daughters need you badly.”

Faythe started the ball rolling after she spent several hours taking notes and double-checking facts over the Internet. Deanna knew a lot about focusing, about getting into the zone so far that she didn’t notice if she was hungry or thirsty, and admired Faythe both as she did her research and talked to Angela.