Unbreakable (12 page)

Gwen pulled into the carriage house and killed the engine, checking the tape on the white bandage that covered her finger before she exited the car.

"You must be Mrs. Langtree." The woman extended a large hand. "I'm Frances Artiste. We spoke on the phone last week. Welcome to Charlotte's Web Bed & Breakfast."

Gwen smiled and grasped the woman's hand, her eyebrows rising slightly at the brisk, enthusiastic shake. She was dressed casually in a pair of tan linen slacks and a pale blue, sleeveless silk top. She had goosebumps all along her arms. She would have to put the top up for the ride home. "Thank you." She hummed a little in admiration. "It's lovely here. The house looks like something right off of Lafayette Square." Gwen knew several families who lived in the exclusive, 30-acre residential district that was well known for its immaculate 19
^th
century architecture.

Stepping out into the breeze, they left the garage and began the short trek to the house.

"She is a beauty," Frances agreed, gazing at the house with pride. "There's not much Federalist architecture left in these parts."

The three-story B&B was narrow, but tall with a dark wood, six-paneled front door that contrasted nicely with the pale blue walls. The trim, shutters, and latticework were freshly painted a crisp white and two red brick chimneys stretched high into the bright morning sky. Each floor sported its own walkout porch, each of which was surrounded by a white railing and held two small wrought-iron chairs with a circle table between them. It looked to be the perfect place to have a quiet conversation as the sun went down or to sit and watch the squirrels play over your morning coffee. It was refined and light in its presentation and Gwen found herself admiring the simplistic, homey feel it exuded.

Rocks crunched under their feet as they walked. "But I was grateful to sell the place and let someone else deal with the financial side of things. I'm more suited to spending my retirement years thinking about what type of suet is best to keep my favorite woodpecker fat and happy than picking one crooked contractor from the next every time a branch hits the house. I'm pretty handy myself," she patted her own rather hefty bicep proudly, "but this body is too old for climbing up on the roof and other foolish things like that. My Norman always did the cooking and I did the home repairs, but luckily for the guests I did manage to learn my way around the kitchen in the 55 years we were married."

Frances didn't elaborate on Norman, and Gwen assumed that he'd passed away. "You're being modest, Mrs. Artiste. I hear that you're an excellent cook." It was the truth. Gwen had spent several days investigating potential locations for the gathering. The Langtrees had modest property holdings, but they included a small luxury hotel and two other B&Bs, all in the St. Louis area. "I wouldn't be spending my time someplace that served beans and weenies or Dinty Moore Beef Stew for dinner."

The older woman blushed at the compliment, her short, paper-white hair standing out even more vividly against her ruddy skin. "I'll make a note not to serve either of those things while you're here," she promised, a little surprised that Gwen Langtree even knew what Dinty Moore was.

Gwen chuckled as they ascended the front steps. "Thanks."

Frances opened the front door and gestured for Gwen to go in ahead of her. "How many guests should I be expecting?"

Gwen stepped inside and onto a large gray drop cloth that covered the entryway floor. A smile swept across her face as she took in the lovely décor.
Nice.
"Myself and four others." She hadn't asked anyone to RSVP, but she felt sure all the women would come. And whoever was blackmailing her couldn't afford to stay away and cast suspicion on herself. At least she hoped that's the way things would work. Lastly, Gwen was relying on the fact that even if Jacie, Nina, Audrey, and Katherine didn't particularly want to see her, they'd at least want to see each other. It was hardly a foolproof plan. But it was all she had.

As it always did, the thought of one of her friends doing something so utterly hateful as blackmail caused anger and hurt to well within her. She quickly turned her attention to something else. "How are the renovations coming, Mrs. Artiste?"

"Call me Frances, please." She pursed her lips as she thought. "Faster than I expected. We should be back open for business in a week or so after your visit. We're refinishing all the floors next week." She shook her head. "I can't understand why you'd want to use this place before it's completely ready. If you'd only wait a little longer, you'd see her at her best, which is pretty darned good if I do say so myself."

"What is it they say in the real estate business?" The women continued to move through house. "Location, location, location?" Gwen gazed out a large window at the expansive back lawn and the several stone paths that crisscrossed there before disappearing into the trees beyond. Other than a small servants' quarters that sat just to the west of the property which Mrs. Artiste used as her personal residence, there wasn't another house for miles around. Through the open window, Gwen could hear the whispering wind, the jangling of the tree branches, and the occasional birdsong. It was, above all things, private. Which made it perfect. "So long as the place is mostly ready, and we have beds, bathrooms, and a functioning kitchen we'll be just fine."

Frances shrugged. "Whatever you say. Would you like to see the rooms? Each one is decorated differently and filled with gorgeous antiques. Norman was a collector and a stickler about the details, too. There are only five rooms and they're all in different stages of renovation."

"Lead the way." Gwen hesitated, but with a deep breath, bravely pushed forward with her plans. "Umm… I don't think there's an easy way to ask this, but I have a special bedding request that I'm hoping you'll be able to accommodate."

Frances laughed. "This is your place, Mrs. Langtree. You can sleep in the hammock by the river if you want to. Lord knows I won't stop you."

Gwen scratched her nose and hid a wry smile. "I hope that won't be necessary. But I have a feeling that my little gathering of friends could turn out to be… interesting. When the Mayflower Club gets together, Mrs. Artiste, anything can happen."

Frances swallowed at the serious look on Gwen's face. "Anything?"

"You have no idea."

*  *  *

Late Spring 1975
Hazelwood, Missouri

It was an unseasonably warm day and four fifth-grade girls lay in the deep, fragrant grass, of Audrey's backyard. Having come home from school and changed out of their school clothes, they were now in various types of shorts and t-shirts, tennis shoes or sandals, and gazing up into a brilliant blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds. They were slightly sweaty and dirty from a game of tag that had ended up in a ticklefest.

Katy rolled over onto her belly, plucked a blade of grass from the lawn and popped the end in her mouth. "You can't just be that, Audrey. You should be that plus something else."

Audrey frowned at her cousin and gazed unhappily over at Nina and Gwen to give Katy a nasty look. "Why? My mom is just a mom. So what's wrong with me wantin' to be one when I grow up?"

Katy's gaze dropped to the grass and she shrugged one slim shoulder. "I dunno. It seems so boring. Don't you want to be an astronaut or rock star or anything? I'm gonna be a race car driver."

"There are no girl race car drivers," Gwen said. "Maybe you can be the first."

Nina's head bobbed. "Yeah, you can b-be the first and I'll go to-to all your races."

"Me, too," Gwen and Audrey chorused in unison.

"Groovy." Katy wriggled with delight. "What about you, Audrey? You could be a race car driver with me."

"No thanks," she replied quickly. "I want to have six children. I've got my dolls at home lined up just like my babies will be. Three boys and three girls. And I'm going to name them William, David, Peter, Heather, Misty, and Tina. And we'll have a dog named Jack."

"Don't you already have that dog?" Gwen crossed her feet at the ankles and pointed to the fat pit bull who was sleeping with its head hanging off of Audrey's back porch.

"No."

Gwen's forehead creased. "But I heard–"

"My brother has ‘A Dog Named Jack.' That's his name, ‘A Dog Named Jack.' If anyone but him calls him by his nickname, Jack, then he pounds them."

Katy hummed her agreement. "It's true."

Nina had rolled over on her side to face Audrey, bracing the side of her head with her grass-stained palm. "You have all the na-na-names picked out for your kids already, Audrey?"

Audrey look a little confused. "Doesn't everyone?"

Katy rolled her eyes. "No, stupid. Just you. And you're getting weirder by the day."

"Well, I do," Gwen stated boldly as she sat up on her elbows. "After I become either Miss Missouri or a doctor, I'm going to get married and have a baby boy named Tucker and a baby girl named Wendy. And they'll both have red hair like me, freckles like Nina's"–she paused when Nina crowed in delight–"and dreamy brown eyes like Freddy Prinze."

"Ooo, yeah!" Audrey squealed enthusiastically, the other girls joining in her giggles. "I just luuv him." Then she stuck her tongue out at Katy, vindicated. "Good names, Gwen."

Gwen beamed. "Thanks."

"How about you, Nina? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

They all flopped back down and gazed back up at the clouds, wishing that summer would hurry up and come.

"Well," Nina began, "I think I-I'd like to b-be a vet. I like cats and dogs."

The girls nodded their approval, instantly deciding that a vet would be a perfect job for their tenderhearted friend.

"You can be my Jack's vet," Audrey told her. "I'll need someone I trust to give him shots and stuff."

"I'll be ex-extra careful," Nina swore. "He won't f-f-feel a thing. I always win when we play Operation."

The girls all nodded. Nina had the steadiest hand in the bunch.

"Audrey," Katy started. "Will you bring your kids to my races?"

It was as close as she was going to get to an apology for Katy making fun of her career choice and she knew it. "Of course, dog breath. But only if you win."

Katy snorted. "Well, duh. I've got it all figured out. Girls weigh less than boys, right?"

Audrey looked down at herself and frowned.

"Well, most of the time, right?" Katy said quickly.

They all murmured their agreement.

"So since I'll be lighter, my car will have less to pull and I'll win."

"Nuh huh." Gwen said. "If that were true then all the best racers would be midgets. They'd weigh the least of all."

"Wrong," Katy stated smugly. "Their feet can't touch the pedals. They couldn't be good drivers."

Gwen pursed her lips. "Oh yeah." She felt foolish for not realizing that herself. "Sorry."

They'd laid for a long time, talking about nothing at all and everything important–where they would live when they grew up, what popular girls had snubbed or befriended them, and whether Bucky Lee's cowlick would ever lay flat…. They watched the clouds change shapes, pointing as they saw faces and objects form and dissolve in the swirling billows. Gwen even swore for a split second, when two clouds collided, that she saw a perfect vision of President Ford peeking down at them.

But someone was missing from the scene, and when her voice interrupted their conversation, each girl smiled, a little happier that their circle was now complete.

"Whatcha doin', guys?" Jacie strode up, still wearing her red, white and blue bell-bottoms school pants, her book bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was in her usual long ponytail and her longish t-shirt fluttered in the late afternoon breeze.

"Waitin' f-for you," Nina answered, her face wreathed in a happy grin.

"Yeah, where've you been?" Katy wondered out loud. She peered at the mostly hidden sun, noting it was noticeably lower than when they'd all arrived at Audrey's backyard. "We've already been here for nearly 45 minutes."

Jacie bit her lower lip, trying to decide whether she should lie and confused that she felt the urge to do so in the first place. "I stayed after school for a little while."

"What?" Gwen scooted over so Jacie could lie down between her and Nina. "Again?"

Jacie let her bag fall from her shoulder and looked up at the sky, wondering what her friends had been pointing at when she'd arrived. She didn't see a thing. "Yeah. S'okay though, I didn't mind."

In the blink of an eye move, Audrey stole the blade of grass that Katy was chewing and laughed as she addressed Jacie. "Did you get detention, Jacie? That hasn't happened since last year. I thought you were reformed or something."

Four sets of eyes swung up to stare at the dark-haired girl and she squirmed a little under their weight. "No… err… Yes… errr… I just stayed after to give Mrs. Toliver a little help cleaning the blackboard and pushing in the chairs. Stuff like that." She rocked back on her heels. "She's pretty cool," she said, hoping to sound casual. In truth, she knew she'd use any excuse to spend a little extra time with her favorite teacher. The woman was young and vivacious and unlike any teacher Jacie had ever had or even seen before. And most of all, Mrs. Toliver listened intently to whatever Jacie said and smiled at her in a way that thrilled her to the core, causing her stomach to flutter.

Katy's eyes went wide. "You helped clean?"

"Yeah." Jacie lifted her chin indignantly. "So?"

Audrey snorted. "We've seen your messy room. Your mother is always trying to get you to clean, but you're a pig, Jacie."

Every fiber of Nina's being wanted to jump to Jacie's defense. Unfortunately, she'd seen Jacie's room, too, and Audrey was actually being kind by calling it messy.

Gwen couldn't help herself. "Oink. Oink." She wiggled her nose. "Oink."

That's all it took to send Nina and Audrey into a fit of helpless giggles.

Jacie put her hands on her hips and stamped one foot. "I am not a pig!"

"She's right, guys." Everyone turned to gape at Katy, shocked at her words because she and Jacie had been antagonizing each other for weeks. "She's not a pig…" she paused for effect, "but she's some sort of animal because she's teacher's pet."