Identity (11 page)

To Liza’s amazement, Arlie’s dark blue eyes filled with unshed tears. The large woman sat back and swallowed to maintain her composure.

Compassion welled in Liza, but she knew she had to remain firm for Mindy’s sake. “Why, Arlie?”

“You can’t imagine what it’s like, Hughes,” she said after a short pause. “You’re good lookin’, got a hell of a personality. Can have any woman you damn well please.”

Liza’s mouth fell open. “What the hell…Arlie, you’re crazy. What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?”

Arlie swiped at her eyes, groaning when Liza fell back on one of their pet childhood phrases. “She came on to me, Liza. This big britches woman wanted me, Arlie Russell, giant diesel dyke. Do you know what that means?”

Liza sighed and shut her eyes. “It means she’s married, Woodpecker, and is playing both sides of the fence. You’re not stupid. Wait, maybe you are.”

Arlie angered and puffed up but then deflated before her friend’s steady gaze. “I know,” she whispered. “It was such a rush, though, Hughes, you have no idea.”

“I
do
know, hon. Swear to God. I’ve been in similar situations. Going for it does nobody any good,” she replied impatiently.

“What am I gonna do?” Arlie covered her face with her hands.

“Are you tired of Mindy?”

“God, no!” Arlie blurted out, lifting a tortured gaze. “Never.”

Liza sighed. “Well, talking to her is the first step. Maybe some counseling if she’s agreeable. I suggest you go home and get started.” She rose and lifted her cup. Arlie stood on shaky legs.

“Are you gonna see the woman again?” Liza asked quietly as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight.

“No, I was already breaking it off. It was not a long-term thing, you know?”

Liza pulled Arlie into a sideways hug of encouragement. “Good luck, Woodpecker. Just be honest, okay? Mindy deserves that from you. Promise?”

Arlie nodded, eyes downcast.

“Call me if you need anything, hear? Tell Min to call me if she needs to,” Liza added as they walked together for a few paces.

Arlie awkwardly hugged Liza back, and they parted, each lost in thought, both imagining and dreading the impending confrontation.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Liza’s cell phone rang just as she pulled into the drive. She’d pondered the troubling conversation with Arlie all the way home, so she wasn’t in the best of spirits. Seeing a number marked as private further stirred flags of irritation.

“Eliza Hughes,” she barked into the phone, sure it had something to do with a Meadows snafu. Like she needed more aggravation.

“Liza? Are you okay?”

It took almost a full minute for the soft, low voice to register.

“Shay? Is that you?”

“Yes, I hope I’m not bothering you…”

“No, no, of course not. I’m sorry I was so…such a bitch. Rough day.”

“No problem. I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Carol over here at the shelter. I was gonna ask her to call you, but she said you wouldn’t mind…” Her tone was doubtful and Liza hastened to reassure her.

“She knows me well,” she said, laughing. “Besides the Meadows work I do makes my number somewhat public knowledge.” Her voice softened, revealing the intimacy she felt upon hearing Shay’s voice. “I’m really glad you called me.”

“Good!” Pleasure rang in the word. “Can you come for dinner Tuesday afternoon? At my house? My friend Don is coming in from DC with his new significant other. I thought you might enjoy meeting them.”

“That sounds great. What time and what can I bring?”

Shay sighed as if thinking. “It’ll just be a simple meal but our Thanksgiving, I guess, so I’ve got the menu planned. Can you come early, maybe one? That way we can eat by the windows to the back deck and enjoy the view. Don’t you think that’s a fun idea?”

“Absolutely,” Liza said, nodding to herself in her truck. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Shay seemed to grow shy suddenly. “Okay then, I…I guess I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Liza was disappointed that Shay was signing off. “Oh, okay. See you then. Shay, thanks for calling.”

Liza studied her cell phone, pressing the save button so she could keep Shay’s number. She had forgotten; it was listed as private. Liza sighed.

She sat back and stared at her father’s large frame house. She let her mind roam. It felt pleasant to sit unfocused for a few minutes. Her eyes fetched up on an errant growth of trumpet vine and she made a mental note to pull it up or relocate it. The roots were extensive, though, so she’d probably have to let it die. If she didn’t, it would burrow under the siding of the house and cause major problems.

A smile nudged its way across her features. The call from Shay had set a deep-seated and totally unexpected happiness into motion. She let herself savor it for a good long while before leaving the truck.

Her phone rang again just as she inserted her key into the lock. Glancing at the caller ID, she sighed. Mary.

Mary Cross and Liza had been best friends since grade school and during those years, Mary had eagerly agreed with Liza that her brother Steven was a total dweeb or a royal pain in the ass, depending on the mood of the day. Then, in their senior year, Mary and Steve had become an item almost overnight. Steve was already working for Bond Insurance over in Fairhope and their marriage right after graduation had surprised Liza and even angered her. She had harbored some hope that Mary would come to her senses before marrying Steve. She often wondered if Mary, who knew about Liza’s lesbianism, had married so hastily in an effort to prove her heterosexuality, not wanting people to think she and Liza were a couple.

And it wasn’t that Steve was a bad guy. Liza did love him dearly, but he was a typical big brother, whose goal in life was to make both his sisters wish they’d never been born into his world.

Too late now, Mary had finally realized the folly of her impetuous decision, and it was a realization she discussed with Liza almost daily.

“Hey, Mare,” Liza said into the cell.

“He’s drunk on his ass,” Mary said without preamble.

“No way. It’s too early. He doesn’t drink this early, does he?”

“On golf days he does.” Mary’s voice was tight with anger or maybe frustration.

“I’m so sorry,” Liza answered finally. “I don’t know what to say or do to make it better.”

Liza could hear her niece and nephew running rampant in the background.

“Will you talk to him?” Mary said, her voice so low, Liza almost didn’t hear her.

Liza sighed again. For someone who hated to get involved in other people’s problems, she sure was of late. “Sure, I will. As soon as I can. How are the kids?”

“Good.” Mary’s tone was still morose. “Stevie lost another tooth, and Mason started at Saturday’s football game.”

“Awesome. He played really well the last game we came to. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

The two made small talk for several minutes, and then Liza signed off. She didn’t take the time to talk to Stevie and Mason as she usually did. The talks with Mindy, Arlie and now Mary had taken their toll, leaving her emotions raw. She didn’t have the stamina to be upbeat for the children.

“Hey, Pop,” she called as she entered the house. “What did the doctor say?” She sincerely hoped it was good news.

Her father sat at the kitchen table, contentedly munching on a fast-food meal, evidenced by the brightly colored to-go bag crumpled on the tabletop.

Liza smiled indulgently. Her father looked like a hungry teen, guiltily ramming french fries into his mouth.

“Whoa, slow down, Pop. Whatcha got there?” She stifled laughter.

Her father colored. “Chloe stopped on the way home.”

“Umhm,” Liza said, opening the fridge and pouring a glass of sweet tea. “I see that. Looks good.”

“There’s plenty here if you want some,” he said eagerly, as if begging her to join him in his act of gustatory sin.

Liza did laugh then. “No, you go ahead. Enjoy it, Pop. I’m not hungry yet.”

Liza stood against the kitchen counter wondering whether she wanted to return to work out back or cook something to eat. Or collapse in front of the TV.

“So I guess the treatment went well?” she said.

“Didn’t have one,” her father said around a bite of burger.

“Really.” She was curious. “How come?”

Tom shrugged. “Said I was doing so well, he’s going to hold off until after the holidays. See how I do.”

Liza placed her empty glass in the sink. “Omigosh, that’s fantastic.”

She sat across from him and filched a salty fry, studying his face as he chewed. “So I guess you’re responding well. I am so glad to hear that. No wonder you’re celebrating.”

Her father patted her hand and smiled. “I love you, Eliza Jane.”

Liza blushed. “Aw, Pop, I love you too. You know that.”

He nodded and returned to his burger, taking a mighty bite. “I know.”

Leaving him to his meal, Liza wandered into the living room and switched on the television. Her restless mind wouldn’t calm enough for her to enjoy any program, however, so she rose and re-entered the kitchen. Tom was washing the few dishes that had accumulated during the afternoon.

“If you’re settled, I think I’ll go down and throw a line into the pond.”

“Sounds good,” Tom replied. “Take your spray. Alan says we’ve had a powerful lot of straggler mosquitoes.”

“Will do,” she paused in the doorway. “You want to come with me?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and dried his hands. “All tuckered out. I have a date with an old black-and-white movie.”

Liza laughed. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The amount of work needed to get the house in order was daunting. Shay wandered away from the mound of boxes and paused by the high front window that looked out on the driveway. Usually deer could be seen grazing out there this time of day, but the roadway and surrounding forest was strangely deserted. She sighed, feeling lonely and somewhat vulnerable.

Thoughts and nightmares about Pepper’s abuse persisted. It angered her that she was forced to deal with the past even though she detested it. Resting her elbow on the windowsill and cupping her chin in her palm, she let her gaze roam as if seeking answers for her dilemma from nature’s bible. After some time she realized something was amiss and her cautious nature went into overdrive. What was it? She chewed on a thumbnail as her eyes darted keenly. Perplexed, she finally turned away. Just as she turned, she realized that there was a flash of white at the end of the drive. Overgrowth prevented a dead-on sighting but when the wind stirred, there it was. Something large and white was blocking the end of her driveway.

A gasp tore through her and she pressed her face against the pane as if doing so would allow her to see more clearly. She finally realized there was no help for it; she had to go outside and see to it.

She moved back, terrified, heart racing. She hated guns but really wished she had one for protection right now. Going out unarmed was an act of courage she just wasn’t sure she could muster up. But she had to see what the anomaly was. There was no way she could blissfully continue unpacking while the object was out there.

She twisted her hair in a nervous smoothing gesture and glanced around her living room, seeking some sort of weapon. There wasn’t even a fireplace poker in this Southern-styled home. Making a face of pique, she stamped one foot. Why
didn’t
she have a dog? She felt a major temper tantrum coming on and tried to calm herself using techniques taught by Dr. Frye.

Breathing deeply, she lifted her keys and phone from the hall table and unlocked the front door. Stepping through it was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Her eyes roamed the forest constantly, seeking signs of ambush as she securely locked the door behind her.

“She’s in jail, she’s in jail, she’s in jail,” she muttered to herself, a protective mantra that allowed her a dozen tentative steps along the drive. As the drive curved, she breathed a deep breath and her knees weakened from relief. It was a Tacoma pickup, a familiar one.

Liza, obviously fishing, had parked it a little further down along Dooley Drive than she had last time, making it more visible from the house.

Smiling a goofy grin of relief, Shay turned to return inside. After a few steps, she faltered. It would be nice to see Liza again. They’d parted on such strange terms last time, after that kiss. That memorable kiss. Shay had been having a hard time with that memory. Every time she thought of those sun-roughened, warm lips meeting hers, she turned into a puddle of longing.

Almost as if they were sentient beings, her feet pulled her down the drive.

Liza was indeed in a fishing stance, perched on a cooler next to the pond, but she seemed to be uninterested, pensively holding her pole splayed across her lap. Shay watched her for some time, admiring the normally smiling face in repose. It was a strong face; there had to be Native American ancestry there somewhere. The blond hair threw one off, but Shay could see it in the broad cheekbones and the proud nose.

“So, how long are you gonna stand there,” Liza said lazily as her eyes never left the water.

“Just admiring the view,” Shay said, biting her lip and silently berating herself for flirting.

Liza turned toward her and there was that disarming smile again. “How you been, Little Fluff?”

Shay made a face. “Fluff? Please!” She moved to stand closer to Liza’s
The Thinker
pose. She indicated the pole’s position. “Won’t catch many fish that way.”

“Not hungry,” Liza replied, lifting an eyebrow and waiting for Shay to catch on to the reference.

Shay did. “Right. For sustenance only. Listen, I was really out of line that day, and I did apologize. Let’s just forget it, okay?”

Liza nodded. “Forgotten, sort of.” She studied Shay’s casual shorts and button-down shirt. “Those aren’t jogging clothes.”

Shay folded her arms across her chest and watched ducks as they meticulously bathed out in the middle of the pond. “No, I’m unpacking. I need to get the house ready for Dee and his new man, Greg.”