Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) (22 page)

“Good morning, sleepyhead,”
Hannah exclaimed as she balanced the heavy tray in one hand and closed the
guest bedroom door behind her. “Did you sleep well in here?”

“Yeah,” Willow answered
groggily as she sat up and held the sheets and blankets to her chest. The
morning spread was just as elaborate as it was colorful, but it was the cloth
napkin that really caught her attention. “Is that a giraffe?”

Hannah giggled. “It was supposed
to a gazelle.”

“Yeah, I totally see that now.”

“Well, if you don’t have any
plans for day, I am going to the farmer’s market to find some seedlings. I want
to go totally organic,” Hannah exclaimed triumphantly. On her way out the door,
Hannah turned back around and said, “Oh, by the way, I washed and dried your
clothes. They are on top of the dresser. Maybe later we could go to your
apartment and you could pick up whatever you need.”

Over the next few weeks, the
stress of the situation eventually caught up with Willow. She tried to keep on
her happy face, but this new version of Hannah was just too much to take. She
would have been any man’s dream wife—she cooked, cleaned, ironed, and washed,
and that was all before noon. Hannah was consumed with a boundless sort of
energy and fluttered around the house, moving on from one project to the next.

Willow began to wonder if she
ever slept at all. She wouldn’t know as she had been stashed away in one of the
guest bedrooms and was exhausted by nine o’clock in the evening by just
watching her. Or perhaps, the exhaustion was just a symptom?

Ever since they returned from
Sedona, Willow felt as if her life was a vacuum. There were a great many things
that she needed to do—most importantly get a job and find a new place to live.
Yet, the thought of doing either of those things filled her with a panicky
sorrow because she knew they would take her further away from Hannah.

Whenever Hannah announced her
latest home-improvement idea or fixed one of her gourmet-to-die-for dinners,
Willow couldn’t hear what was being said or see what was placed before her. Her
mind screamed repeatedly,
It’s over! It’s over!
And this was all she had
left. This was her new reality.

One evening, after they
finished eating dinner, Willow was about to make an excuse to go to bed, even
though it was still early because she couldn’t stand any more. Hannah must have
sensed it because she reached out and stroked her hair. “Willow, what’s wrong?”
she asked sweetly.

Willow recoiled from her touch
as her nerves had been shot to the breaking point.

Hannah’s hand fell limply to
her lap. “You’ve been off the last couple days,” she continued.

“I’m just really tired.”

“I know what’s wrong,” Hannah
admitted softly.

“You do?”

“I didn’t want to be the one to
bring this up,” Hannah started as she dug into the front pocket of her jean
shorts, “but I found this the other day when I was cleaning.” Pulling out
Willow’s engagement ring, she placed it in her palm. “You and Zachary have been
fighting again, haven’t you?”

Again?
Willow
silently pondered. It wasn’t as if they had a tumultuous relationship, or maybe
they had in Hannah’s timeline?

“It’s a long story,” she
muttered.

“I’m a good listener,” Hannah
smiled gently.

“Zachary and I broke up.”

“Oh Willow, I’m so sorry,”
Hannah moaned. “What happened? You two were the perfect couple.”

“I guess we just reached a
point where we both wanted different things,” Willow said.

“Are you sure it’s over? It
could just be a rough patch—every couple goes through them,” Hannah offered
sympathetically.

Willow started giggling even
though there was nothing funny about their conversation. She laughed because
she knew if she didn’t—she would start crying. It was the final nail in the coffin.
Nothing says,
we ain’t ever going down that road again,
like trying to
convince someone to patch things over with another person.

“What about you, Hannah? When
are you going to start dating again?” Willow asked.

“Me?” Hannah gasped. “I’m much
too busy to even think about that now.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Hannah cocked her head to the
side as if she didn’t understand the question. “Well, you’ve been here with me.
You see all the things I do.”

“Here yes,” Willow agreed. “But
what about your job? Do you have any intention of going back to work?”

At this, Hannah looked truly
perplexed. “I work with you for the company we built together.”

“We didn’t…” Willow started but
stopped, not sure what to say. “I didn’t know if you remembered.”

“Of course, I remember. It was
our dream since we were little girls. How could I forget?” Hannah frowned and
started to reach for Willow’s hand but stopped herself. “Is that what has been
bothering you—that I haven’t gone back to the office?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Willow
shrugged.

“You’ve been such a doll taking
care of me, but you need to take care of yourself too. You were always the
creative one. You need to get all that unspent energy out of you. I’ll be fine
by myself while you go to work, I promise. Maybe sometime later this week, I
can stop by and we can do lunch?”

What could possibly go wrong?
Willow wasn’t sure how much
work
she would get done, but at least she
would have a few hours to herself, away from Hannah, away from the woman she
could only love as a sister. It might do her good to clear her mind, and Hannah
had been getting along so marvelously. She didn’t need to stay away the entire
day. Perhaps she could go to the office in the morning, stop back in for lunch,
and if all was well, she could spend a few hours in the afternoon looking for a
new place to live. What could possibly go wrong in a few hours?

The next day when Willow
dropped in for lunch she didn’t know what had happened, but something had
definitely gone wrong. She found Hannah in the front room, lying on the sofa,
sobbing uncontrollably.

“What is it, Hannah? What
happened?” Willow rushed in a panic.

“It’s…it’s…it’s this,” Hannah
choked out as she tossed the magazine at Willow. “Why?” she cried. “Why would
they say something so horrible?”

Willow glanced down at the
cover. At least the photograph was flattering if not the headline—
Bombshell
Confession: Hannah Fairbanks is a Man!

“Where did you get this?”
Willow asked.

“Raymond sent it to me express.
It hits the stands tomorrow,” Hannah sobbed.

Willow’s mind whirled through
all the various names Hannah had ever mentioned. There were just so many of
them—photographers, designers, directors, and assistants. Finally, she
remembered Raymond. He was Hannah’s publicist.

“Why are they doing this to me?
Why can’t they just leave me alone?”

“Hannah…” Willow started
uncertainly. “It’s just another tabloid sensation. In a few weeks, everyone
will forget about it.”

“Like they have forgotten my
trip to the looney bin?” Hannah sniffed. “It’s a horrible, deceitful lie. I am
going to sue them for slander.”

“Maybe you should just ride
this one out, let it pass over,” Willow offered.

“No!” Hannah bellowed and then
fell back against the cushions in a sobbing, uncontrollable heap.

Willow started to panic, not
knowing what to do or say to make her feel better. The problem was there was
some truth to the story—no matter how much Hannah wanted to deny it. Although
clearly no legal expert, Willow knew lawsuits could be tricky—especially ones involving
billion-dollar companies. Who knows? Hannah may have carefully tried to conceal
the truth over the years, but one tiny slip or wardrobe malfunction in front of
the wrong set of eyes was all that was needed to expose her to the world. The
timing couldn’t have been better planned given Hannah’s current publicity.
Someone was desperate enough to cash in on Hannah’s misfortunes or perhaps an
ex-pet was seeking revenge. In either scenario, the person could in all
likelihood have photographic evidence.

Long-term thinking wasn’t
likely to help with the current situation. At the moment, Hannah needed to calm
down. Willow considered calling Dr. Williams, but he was all the way in Sedona
and probably couldn’t take her call. As much as she hated doing it, Willow knew
there was only one person who might have a solution. Sucking in her breath, she
dialed his number.

“Sam, we have a slight problem.
I need you to come over.”

“Oh my God, is that a gazelle?”
Sam asked as he strolled into the room and moved towards the side table where
Hannah kept her napkin animals. “Look Kate, it’s a little napkin zoo!”

What a freaking suck-up
,
Willow thought to herself.

“These are amazing, Hannah.
When did you start doing this?” Sam asked.

“It’s just a little hobby,”
Hannah cried.

Kate picked up the gazelle.
Although clearly not as impressed as Sam, she did admire the craftsmanship.

When she absentmindedly placed
the animal back on the table, Sam was quick to retrieve him. “No babe, he can’t
go there,” he explained.

“Lions hunt gazelles,” Hannah
sniffed through her tears.

“And the next thing you know, you
have a whole table-top massacre,” Sam said.

Kate glared at him.

“Really, did you have
absolutely no imagination as a child?” he teased.

“I think you had enough for
both of us,” Kate retorted.

“Obviously,” he said, and then winked—thinking
about what Willow’s call had so rudely interrupted. They would have got here
sooner but he had a hell of a time taking off his nails. Now, his nail beds
were scratched up.

Walking over to the overstuffed
leather chair, he sat unceremoniously and propped his feet on the ottoman. “So,
what is the huge catastrophe? Willow was rather ambiguous on the phone.”

Willow glanced over at Hannah.
After she nodded slightly in affirmation, Willow handed him the tabloid.

Sam stared blankly for several
moments at the cover before finally saying, “I don’t see the problem. Obviously
the lighting is a bit off and they could have played around with the texture,
but it is a decent shot.”

“Read the headline,” Hannah
groaned.

“Right,” Sam said and then
briefly glanced at the words before letting out a loud snort. “HA!”

“It isn’t funny,” Hannah
declared.

“You’re right,” Sam laughed. “It’s
ridiculously hilarious.”

“They called me a man,” Hannah
cried out.

“Yes, thank you. I did actually
pass the second grade and am capable of sounding out the big words,” Sam
teased. Trying very hard to erase the levity from his face, he said, “Oh come
on, Hannah. This is so absurd that no one is going to believe it. Besides, they
have said so much worse about you.”

“Never like this,” Hannah
denied.

“Because right now you are the
golden ticket. People are crawling out of the woodworks, and they will say
anything to cash in. Honestly if I were you, I would frame this one,” Sam
replied.

“No, thank you,” Hannah shot
back.

“You know what the problem
is—you’ve been stuck inside this house too long as evidenced by your handiwork,
which, by the way, I am taking the peacock. But that is beside the point. You
need to get out and have a little fun. We’ll all go out together,” Sam said.

Later that night, after Sam had
whisked Hannah off to the dance floor, Willow looked over at Kate and noticed
she appeared just as despondent as she felt.

“How have you been?” Willow
asked.

“Fabulous,” Kate announced with
a dramatic flair then gave a few mirthless chuckles that soon fell flat. “I’ve
only been married for two months and this is the happiest I’ve seen my husband—while
he is dancing with another woman.”

“Maybe you should take him
dancing more often,” Willow offered.

“It isn’t the dancing he misses
so much. It’s her.”

“He isn’t the only one,” Willow
sighed.

“He has been really upset, and
I’m upset that this bothers him so much. I don’t know…” Kate groaned. “I just
keep thinking what if in the grand reshuffle, they tossed out her gay card.”

Willow’s features remained
motionless for second before she exploded with laughter. “I’m sorry,” she said
breathlessly. “I just don’t think it works that way.”

“But how do you know? Has she
shown any interest in you?”

“No, but she thinks I’m her
sister,” Willow answered. “If Dr. Williams could cure gay, he would a
zillionaire by now. Do you have any idea how many parents would show up at the
clinic wanting him to make their gay children straight? Besides, even if Hannah
was no longer attracted to women, that wouldn’t magically change Sam.”