Courting the Clown (5 page)

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Authors: Cathy Quinn

BOOK: Courting the Clown
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Susie was enjoying this, wasn’t she? “How could you do this to me?” Sylvie shrieked, fighting the urge to throw the nearest Santa belly at her friend. “Dumping me like that? Alone? With those... those...
kids
! You
know
kids terrify me. I stayed there for two hours! Two hours! It felt like two
years
. Do you have
any
idea what I just went through?”

Susie put down her bags, and pushed one of them behind a chair with her foot. “Don’t look! Your present is in there. You know, considering I do this for a living, I probably do know what you just went through. I do this almost every day.”

“That’s totally different, and you know it. You’re... you. I’m not you! I don’t have your knack with kids. I don’t have any knack with kids! And you know the little monsters pounce on that. They can sense it.” She shuddered. “They smell fear.”

“Well, we had a deal, didn’t we? You needed a slight push out of your comfort zone. I gave it to you.” Susie whistled a cheerful tune as she started sorting the laundry. “Sheesh, the new costumes really bleed color, don’t they?”

Sylvie gulped down air. “A slight push? Is that what you’d call it? Don’t you mean a huge shove? Off a thirty foot cliff? Into a pool of man-eating baby sharks?”

“Oh, come on, now you’re exaggerating. They’re just children. It can’t have been that bad!”

“They tied me to a tree. Shoved snow inside my clown’s nose. Pushed me into the snow and jumped on my back. Grabbed my--”

“ You lost control, didn’t you?” Susie shook her head. “I told you –
you
call the shots. You have to. They’ve got to know you’re the boss, or you’re in trouble.”

“Gee, really?”

“You have to get them to respect your authority or they’ll run all over you. Especially when it’s a big group of kids like this – you have to stand firm.”

“A bit late for advice, isn’t it?”

“I told you all this before! Sounds like you weren’t listening.”

“Knowing the theory and putting it into practice are two very different things,” Sylvie said with gritted teeth. “That’s where practice comes in. And I have none.”

“Hey, it’s over. And you ventured out of your comfort zone. Experienced new things. Expanded your horizon. That’s good, isn’t it? It’s what we set out to do.”

Sylvie grabbed her purse, ready to bolt out the door after she’d screamed a bit more at her cousin. “I did not want to go
this
far out of my comfort zone!” she hissed. “Babysitting one of your brother’s kids for half an hour while you stayed within shouting distance would have done the trick!”

Susie studied her. “You’ve still got some paint under your chin and on your neck,” she said amicably, and Sylvie dropped her purse and returned to the sink with a sigh.

There was no point in shouting at Susie. They did have a pact after all, and Susie would get her turn. Sylvie almost cackled at the thought, smiling evilly into the mirror. Oh yes, Susie would get her turn. And so would Helen. Now that she’d been through purgatory herself, she’d have no compunction in torturing her friends. In fact, she had every intention of enjoying it thoroughly.

She scrubbed of the last vestiges of paint, and carefully scrutinized herself in the mirror, grabbing a hand mirror to check the back of her neck. All traces of paint were gone. The suit was gone, the red nose was in the dishwasher along with a dozen others, the donkey’s tail had been furtively fastened to the back of Susie’s jacket. It was over. She’d never again have to dress in a clown suit. Never have to cake white make-up all over her face.


Daddy, I want the clown for my birthday party...”

The tiny voice squeaked from her memory, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Never – except once. She’d promised. Morally she was obliged to wear that clown costume one more time.

Was there any way out of this? She turned away from the mirror and sighed. No. There was no way out. She’d promised. She’d been bribed as well as emotionally blackmailed.

Worst of all, she had these nasty butterflies in her stomach, telling her she would not mind seeing the birthday girl’s father again. Not good. Definitely not practical.

But from what she could remember –- it had been a while -- her butterflies had never paid much attention to practical details.
Susie’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got a look on your face.”
Sylvie knew exactly what she was talking about. She ignored her cousin and headed for the door. “I do not have a look on my face.”

Susie jumped in her way, and leaned against the door, blocking it. “Yes! I know that look. You’re thinking about a guy you like. You met someone! Woo-hoo! Who? Where? When do we get to see him?”

“Don’t be absurd! I haven’t met anyone.”

Susie rolled her eyes. “Sure. Deny, deny, deny. You had this look on your face when you met your first crush at age thirteen, and although you’ve managed to tame it a bit since then, you can’t fool me. Now, spill. Who is it? What does he look like? Will I approve?”

“I’m not spilling anything,” Sylvie said tartly. “I’m still not speaking to you. So to speak. If you’d ever let me get away with not speaking to you, I wouldn’t be speaking to you. So, I’m not spilling anything at all. Now, get away from that door so I can escape this particular region of hell.”

Susie just grinned. “You can’t stop speaking to me,” she said cheerfully. “We need to have a meeting soon. Just you and I. We need to plan how to torture ― I mean,
challenge
, Helen. And for that, we have to be on speaking terms.”

“I’ll make an exception for that.” Sylvie sent her cousin a murderous look. “I’m in the mood for torture right now, anyway. Which reminds me -- I should also make a date with Helen about our plan to torture you.”

Susie smirked. “Sure. Go ahead. Make my day.”
“Pretty big comfort zone, huh?”
“Yep. I’m a lot more flexible than you or Helen. Do your worst. I’m not worried.”

Sylvie smiled to herself. There was a silver lining worth bragging about. She and Helen had already chatted about a suitable zone for Susie. The clown would
not
like it.

“So, up to another gig tomorrow?” Susie asked provocatively. “I mean – you still need a job, don’t you?”

“No!” Sylvie practically sang. At least this was good news. “I have a job offer. I’m starting tomorrow.”

Susie frowned at her. “Excuse me? You were unemployed this morning! Desperate enough to consider
my
job!”

“Not anymore. Not desperate, not unemployed, and best of all – not clown! I go for an interview in the morning, but it’s just a formality. I’m guaranteed a job.”

“Since when are job interview just formalities?”

“One of the kids at the birthday party decided she wanted me at her birthday bash in a couple of days. I refused of course, and the dad managed to bribe me. Clown for a day in return for a well-paid job – I couldn’t turn that down, could I? I mean, I need to buy you and Helen a present, and gift-wrapped cobras don’t come cheap these days.”

“Aha. So you are getting back in that costume after all?”
“Just this one time. And there are conditions. Strict ones. There will be no repeat of today’s fiasco.”
“The parents were that determined to nail you down? Gee, that’s one spoiled kid.”
Sylvie thought back on Lana’s wary blue eyes. “No. Not spoiled. There are... special circumstances.”
“What kind of a job did the dad offer you?”
“Not sure.”

“Not sure? What do you mean, not sure?” Susie put her hands on her hips and stared at Sylvie. “Okay, now I don’t like this anymore. Who is this guy? Do you even know his last name? For all you know the job involves handcuffs and a video camera!”

Sylvie made a face at her cousin. “Yes, I know his last name. And he looked on the up and up. He was picking his kid up from a birthday party, remember? It’s not like I met him in some seedy dark alley somewhere. I’m meeting him at his office tomorrow to go over the options.”

Susie still looked skeptical. “But you have no idea what kind of a job it is?”

“He owns a store. He said it could be office work, or retail.” Sylvie shrugged. “I’m flexible. Starving artists can’t be choosers.”

“No steady music job in sight?”

“Not really. Not yet. But it’s only been a few weeks since I lost that other job.”

“Yeah. Something will come up,” Susie said. “I’m sure it will. And if you’re really in trouble financially, you know you only have to ask. I’d help you out. So would Helen. Please don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I’m okay. Not starving, honest! Not yet,” she added under her breath.

“Sylvie...!”

“Seriously, don’t worry. I can always get odd jobs, enough to tidy me over. Like the one I’m interviewing for tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”

Susie started at her speculatively, hand on chin. Sylvie squirmed. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. “I’m not sure I like it!”

Susie’s fingers slowly unfurled and she pointed at her. “The Dad! That’s the guy who put that look on your face!”
“Of course not.” Sylvie felt lying color flood her cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“So he’s not married, I hope? Divorced? A weekend dad?”
“No.”
“He’s married? Damn!”

“I mean, no, he’s not a weekend dad. Full-time dad. Or that was the impression I got, anyway. The kids’ mother died, so I guess he’s a widower, but of course he could have remarried. Although he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“You noticed, did you?” Susie said with a smirk.
Sylvie shook her head hard and glared at Susie. “Not that it matters. Nothing is going on.”
“Not yet.”

“ I met the guy once! I was wearing a clown suit. Looking more horrible than any other day in my entire life. He’s not even going to recognize me out of the suit. And besides, this man has two kids. Imagine me getting involved with someone with kids! What a disaster that would be. For the kids
and
me.”

Susie just snickered.

“And...” Sylvie added dramatically. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be calling Helen tonight to go over our strategy regarding your punishment. Get ready to face your destiny.”

Susie winked. “Do your worst!” she shouted after Sylvie as she pulled the door open. “I’m not afraid!”

Helen laughed at first when Sylvie related her story over the phone, curled up in bed with Lazarus on her legs and a cup of warm tea on her nightstand. There was no sympathy at all, until Sylvie had enough and reminded her that she would indeed have her turn.

“Oh, God,” Helen said, sobering up instantly. “You wouldn’t do something this terrible to me, would you?”
“Hmm.”
“Come on! I’m your favorite cousin, aren’t I?”
“Don’t play innocent. I know you and Susie came up with this together. You’re just as bad as she is.”

“I didn’t know she planned to leave you there alone,” Helen protested. “Honest! I thought she’d be there with you. You wouldn’t do something this cruel to me, would you?”

“Don’t worry, Helen. We’ll just do what we agreed to do – push you out of your comfort zone. It might hurt a bit, but in the end it’ll be good for you.” Sylvie smiled furtively. “You know, like a dentist’s visit.”

Helen had a slight dentist phobia. Sylvie could almost hear her shuddering through the phone. “I don’t trust you,” Helen said. “I think you’re in the mood for revenge, and you don’t mind too much which of us it is. Just remember – the clown thing was all Sylvie’s idea, and she was the one who executed it. I’m at least ninety-seven percent innocent.”

“And three percent utter evil!” Sylvie countered. “You went along with it. You’re her accomplice. They have severe punishment for accomplices these days, you know.”

Helen was actually sounding worried. “You can’t take it out on me! I swear, I didn’t know she planned to leave you to it alone! I thought getting you in costume and into a house filled with kids was bad enough!”

Good. She was scared. Sylvie snuggled closer into the duvet and reached out to scratch Lazarus behind an ear. She smiled. Excellent. “I got the brochures from the community college,” she said. “Now all we have to do is choose a course for Susie.”

Susie was dyslexic. Her handicap hadn’t been discovered until after she’d left high school, bitter and disappointed, convinced she was most stupid person in the world. The cousins had lived far apart at the time, too far away to shake sense into her, and had only found out the whole story later on.

Recently, Susie had had regular sessions with a specialist, and her reading and writing skills had improved vastly. She’d even taken the GED a couple of years ago, had become a insatiable reader, and her cousins were certain she wanted to go back to school.

But after high school, she was terrified of classes, of teachers, anything that had to do with school. She nearly broke out in hives at the sight of chalk.

So naturally, a course at the community college was the perfect new zone for her to explore. Evil and nasty. Just what the doctor ordered. It would be good for her. And the best part – she obviously didn’t suspect a thing.

“Excellent. See anything interesting?”

Sylvie flipped through the thick leaflet of course descriptions. “There are quite a few options. I like creative writing. There’s a cool poetry class. I wouldn’t mind taking that one myself.”

“No. You can’t go with her. She has to do this on her own.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. And there are several other possibilities.”

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