Through the Shadows (3 page)

Really, Victoria! Perked coffee? For God’s sake, don’t you at least have an espresso machine?

Tori carried the coffee into the living room and Lydia frowned when she saw the aromatic steam rising from the cup. Tori grinned and Lydia’s lips puckered in a pout.

“Tori, love, you know I hate coffee.”

“Yes, my dear Lydia, but that’s all that’s available in this house. Now, be a good girl and drink up while I take a quick shower. I’ll be ready in 20 minutes.”

Lydia took the proffered cup, refusing to meet Tori’s eyes.

“You know, Tori, you’re not my mother. And you really should forget this notion you have that I drink too much.”

Tori smirked, then shuffled toward the bathroom.

In the living room, Lydia opened her Louis Vuitton bag. While watching the hallway for signs of Tori, she surreptitiously pulled a silver flask from her purse. The lid rattled against the glass and she quickly removed it. She may hate American coffee but never let it be said she hated Irish coffee.

The women continued their conversation across the hallway. Tori was pulling on her sweater and jeans as Lydia sipped her now-acceptable coffee.

“So, Lydia, where are we having lunch?”

Lydia gulped the swallow she held in her mouth so she could answer and swore as the hot coffee scalded her throat.

“Bloody hell!”

“What? I didn’t hear you. Where did you say?”

Lydia dabbed at her smeared lipstick and again reached for the bottle.

“We’re eating at The Fountain.”

Tori sighed then pulled her sweater over her head and jerked down the zipper of her jeans. She duck-walked to the closet; the jeans still wrapped around her ankles. She lifted one leg free and sailed the pants across the room with her other foot. She scraped hangers across the metal rod in her closet, trying to find a dress suitable for the restaurant Lydia had chosen for lunch. Tori would’ve been happier with fast food but Lydia would have been horrified at such a thought.

She rummaged through the dresser drawers, looking for a pair of stockings with the least runs, muttering to herself. The best pair she found had no runs but there was a rip in the crotch.

Well, it’s the best I can do. With any luck, they won’t rip any more. Where’d I put my clear fingernail polish?

Tori covered the entire ripped seam with the acrylic polish then blew on them to speed the drying process.

“Why The Fountain, Lydia? Couldn’t you have chosen something a little less elegant? Good grief! It’s only lunch!”

Tori could just imagine Lydia rolling her eyes toward the ceiling as if imploring someone to give her strength to not yell at her young, unsophisticated writer.

“Well, love, we’re having a guest for lunch. An important guest, and I thought it terribly inappropriate to ask him to eat a kiddy’s meal!”

Tori walked into the living room and lifted her eyebrows at the flask sitting on the end table next to her agent.

“If I’m forced to drink this swill I have to make it more civilized. Coffee, indeed!”

Lydia dropped the alcohol back into her purse, not bothering to make any further excuses for herself.

“A guest? Who is it, Lydia?”

Lydia grinned and Tori recognized the look. It was the expression Lydia wore when she had successfully pulled off a great coup.

“It’s your next publisher, Tori. His name is Ted Woodward and he’s the acquisition editor for one of the biggest houses in New York! Isn’t this exciting?”

Tori was always amazed at Lydia’s confidence. She didn’t doubt for one moment that this publisher would be interested in Tori’s work.

“Lydia! You just automatically assume this man will want to publish my book?”

The agent stood in front of Tori and smiled as she smoothed the young woman’s stray wisps of hair.

“No, love, I don’t doubt it. You are very talented, Tori, and this man will see that. Not only will he publish this next book but he will be begging to publish each one of your books after that.”

Tori quickly hugged her agent and tears shimmered in her eyes.

“I wish I had as much faith in me as you do, Lydia.”

“One day you will, sweet Tori. Now, hurry it up! We’re going to dazzle this man, but it may be more difficult if we show up an hour late!”

She swatted Tori with her purse as she rushed her to the front door.

* * *

Lunch with Lydia was always a learning experience for Tori. She watched the beautiful agent work her magic on the editor. She charmed and wooed the distinguished looking man, winning him over completely. She had brought along the partial for Tori’s next book. At first, Ted Woodward seemed eager to read it but he only gave it a cursory glance before he told them he would look forward to reading the completed manuscript.

As they were parting at the entrance to the restaurant, he shook Tori’s clammy hand and kissed Lydia’s cheek.

“Tori, it was a pleasure to meet you. After all of Lydia’s glowing praise, I wondered if your work could live up to it. Lydia, are we still on for dinner this evening? Ladies, it has been a delight!”

Tori was wondering just how much her written words had swayed this man’s opinion and how much it had been Lydia’s voluptuous figure. Either way, she had a tentative publishing contract with one of the largest houses in the business!

On the highway leading back to her house, Tori turned to the agent with a mischievous smile playing around the corners of her lips.

“Lydia! You sneaky little devil, you! How long has this been going on?”

Lydia glanced over with rounded eyes, an expression of assumed innocence at the implied charge of consorting with the enemy.

“Why, Victoria! Whatever do you mean? There’s nothing ‘going on,’ as you so rudely put it! Ted Woodward and I have only known each other for a few days. I contacted him by phone to discuss your book. In the course of the conversation, he just happened to say he thought I had a sexy voice and that he just simply loves the English accent. So I casually mentioned that, perhaps, we should meet in person to discuss my young lady’s work. We’ve had dinner a couple of times, during which I persuaded him to meet with you.”

“Lydia, you are one, sly fox!”

Tori’s loving smirk did not escape Lydia’s notice.

“Now you just mind your manners, Missy! What do you say to going by to see your mother? It’s been a few days since we’ve talked and I miss her. Besides, we simply must tell her the news in person!”

Without waiting for a reply from Tori, Lydia pressed the accelerator a bit harder, seeming to be in a hurry to reach Sharon’s house. But then, Lydia was always in a hurry.

Tori smiled, thinking how truly lucky she was. Not only did she get a top-notch agent who had become a loyal friend, but her mother gained a soul mate. The friendship between her mother and her agent always made Tori feel warm inside. It was nice to know that her two staunchest defenders were the best of friends.

In fact, Sharon Canon saw more of her agent than Tori did. They had dinner together and went on long, exhausting shopping excursions for hours on end. The two women often stopped by Tori’s after a day spent together, just to show her things they had purchased on their recent mall safari. They would joke and giggle like schoolgirls when they were together. They would unabashedly discuss the men they dated, causing Tori to blush furiously and beg them to stop. Sharon and Lydia would both laugh and only make her blush more.

Lydia pulled the car to the curb and Sharon was standing on the front steps to welcome them before they even got out of the car. She kissed her daughter’s cheek and hugged her best friend before escorting them into the house. Immediately, the two older women began their companionable chattering, being so in synch with one another that they would often finish the other’s sentence.

“Well, Lydia, what have you and my baby…”

“…been up to? Oh, nothing important. Only meeting with the acquisition editor of a well-known, verrrry prestigious, publishing house. His name’s Ted Woodward and he’s…”

“…from New York! What did he say? Is he interested in Tori’s next book? Oh, how silly! Of course…”

“…he’s interested! He’s read the synopsis and the first three chapters. He told us he wants to see the rest of the manuscript, right away! Isn’t that…”

“…wonderful! Oh baby, I’m so proud of you! Not surprised, though! We know you’re a good writer and we were just waiting for someone else to know it, too. Right, Lydia?”

“Absolutely! Let’s have a drink to celebrate!”

As Sharon fixed them a martini, she turned to her friend with a sly smile.

“Okay, Lydia, confess! Just what did you do, or promise to do, to get Mr. Big Shot Editor to come here?”

The pretended look of innocence was less convincing than before.

“What is it with you people? Tori asked me the same bloody question!”

Sharon chuckled, then draped an arm around Lydia’s shoulders.

“Could it be, just maybe, that Tori and I know you pretty well?”

Adopting a fairly good Southern drawl, Lydia shook her head at them.

“Y’all thank yor sa smart, don’t cha?”

Tori laughed so hard she had to hold her stomach. Sharon grinned as she shook her head at Lydia.

The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing the editor, the next book, men in general, and sex in particular. When Tori’s face felt it had reached a broiling temperature, she held up her hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay, okay. You guys win. I can’t keep up my end of the conversation so I might as well go home.”

Lydia, by now feeling the effects of an afternoon of gin, slipped into the cockney accent she had paid to lose.

“Naw, love, you can’t. Litl’ gulls like you shouldn’t even try.”

“Well,
ladies
, it could be because I haven’t been around as many blocks as you.”

Mother and agent both laughed uproariously. One of the things Tori thought was so special about these two women was their sense of humor.

“Lydia, don’t even try to say you’re taking me home. I’ll call a cab. I don’t want you behind the wheel of a car. Stay here with Mom and drink about three gallons of coffee before you leave.”

“Coffee? Oh my gawd! I can’t stand that garbage and you know it!”

Tori giggled. She gave the cab company the address and went to sit with the two most important people in her life until the taxi arrived.

* * *

Sharon and Lydia were still laughing and joking when the cab driver tapped the car horn. Tori kissed both of them but she wasn’t sure if they even noticed she was leaving. When she left her mother’s house she wore a cloak of familial love that kept her warm.

The taxi driver was in a talkative mood. The only thing required to keep up her end of the conversation was an occasional murmur from Tori. The closer they got to her house, the less she answered, until the driver was answering his own witty questions. When they arrived, Tori paid the driver then stood on the sidewalk that led up to the house that waited for her. For a few seconds Tori felt that her home looked sinister and foreboding.

That’s just silly, Tori. This is home, your sanctuary, your soft place to fall and hide from the world. I just wish… oh, I don’t know what I wish anymore.

Mentally berating herself didn’t alter her mood.

She stared into the empty windows, a deep longing washing over her. She seldom left the house and this desperate loneliness at her return was probably the reason. No matter how much she might dream, or write those dreams on paper, she still had to face facts.

This is reality, Tori. At least, it’s
your
reality. There’s never going to be a husband throwing open the door to say, “Hi, honey, I’m home!” There’s never going to be the sound of little feet running to greet Daddy.

Tori stared at the sidewalk as she shuffled to the door. Patchwork leaves rattled crisply under her slow step. She stared at the key in her hand for several seconds before sliding it into the lock. The door creaked inward.

She stood on the weathered boards of the porch and stared into the empty void of her life. She stepped into the entryway, closing the door softly behind her.

In an effort to lighten her own heavy heart, Tori shouted into the silence of her home.

“Okay, stop me now if you’ve heard this one. Did you hear the one about two jumper cables walking into a bar and the bartender said, “Don’t you two start anything in here. Get it? Jumper cables? Start something…”

Not even an echo.

“Gee, tough crowd tonight!”

Tori dropped her jacket on the back of the couch. She walked into the dining room and put both hands on the back of a chair, leaning heavily into the wood. Her head hung low, one crystal tear slipped down her ivory cheek.

In the dark recesses of the corner there stood a witness to this display. Without form or texture, the being struggled to be heard. In a voice that could not be detected by the human ear, the entity spoke.

Welcome home, Victoria.

Chapter Three

Tori made a sandwich for herself and another of the endless pots of coffee she drank while writing. Last night had proved to be a dismal failure, so she
had
to make up for it tonight. She’d always heard that to be an accomplished writer, you should write at least one page a day. Normally, she had no trouble whatsoever doing just that. Most days saw the completion of ten pages or more. Yesterday had been a bust and she hadn’t written one single word she could keep. She vowed to herself that tonight would be different.

Tori wasn’t easily distracted, so she was angry with herself that she imagined all sorts of things that go bump in the night. She now believed it only an excuse to get out of writing and justify it to herself, which was pretty lame, since she answered to no one else when it came to the business of writing.

Tori assembled all her normal equipment following her usual writing protocol. Many writers went through their own type of a superstitious ritual before they began to work and Tori was no different. She had her coffee mug to the right of the keyboard. Her dictionary and thesaurus were to the left (none of this website research for her!) and an orange Tennessee Vols baseball cap on her head honoring her favorite college team. Go Big Orange!