Part 14 (1/2)
Cody came to stand beside Lauren. ”You look amazing.”
”Thanks.” She felt the flush on her cheeks, then nodded toward him. ”You clean up rather well yourself.”
”Don't let it get out. I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation as the redneck transplant.”
”Your secret is safe with me.”
”How about a dance?”
She nodded. ”Sounds good.”
Chloe, being true to herself, was playing all vintage music. Lots of Glenn Miller and Frank Sinatra and the like. Cody pulled her onto the dance floor with a loose hold around her waist. ”I like the old music,” he said as ”Moonlight Becomes You” came out through the speakers. ”It's easier to dance to, and the words actually mean something.”
Lauren let him lead her across the gra.s.s. ”I couldn't agree more.”
”You know what?”
”What?”
”Moonlight really does become you.” He spun her around, and for just a moment, she felt almost happy. This day had been magical.
It wasn't until several hours later, when the birdseed had been thrown and Chloe and Jasper were on their way to a week in Palm Springs, that the magic of the evening wore off. Looking around at the work to be done tomorrow, Lauren knew there was a lot of mess to clean up. In almost every area of her life.
twenty-eight.
It needs a bit of cleaning up, but I'll knock a hundred dollars off the first month's rent to make up for it.” Paula Caine was a tired-looking woman in her late thirties. Her pale brown hair was pulled back into a droopy ponytail, which somehow managed to convey the idea that even her hair was exhausted and spent. She led Lauren up a narrow set of wooden stairs that barely managed to fit between the tall shrubs at the fence line and the vinyl siding on the garage. The shrubs were overgrown, and several branches stuck out well into the already-narrow stairway. Paula yanked at one particularly long branch and looked over her shoulder. ”I'll knock off another fifty if you want to get a set of shears and clear this out a little.”
The thought of moving into yet another fixer-upper was more than a little disheartening. The high school was just getting into the thick of the play, and her time was at a premium now. That was the reason Lauren had hurried to do the work on the cottage-so she would have a decent works.p.a.ce and time to concentrate on the play. So much for that plan.
Well, as Rhonda would say, the best view came after a hard climb. This rental unit was just another step on the path.
Paula pushed open the door and led the way into the above-garage unit. Lauren followed her inside.
Although it was not as dusty and cobwebby as the vacant-for-years cottage had been upon her first arrival, this place had the kind of filth and grime that comes from recent uncaring tenants. There were oil splatter marks on the back wall of the kitchenette, the corners of the floor had a thick layer of something that had never been mopped away, and it appeared a ball had been bounced off the ceiling repeatedly, as there were telltale dirty little circles all around the s.p.a.ce that served as both living room and bedroom.
”The Murphy bed pulls down like this.” Paula went over to a cabinet on the far wall, reached up, and yanked down the bed.
The place smelled of mold and must, with just a hint of stale urine. And yet, beggars could not be choosers. Fact was, the rent was affordable, it was in a fairly safe neighborhood, and Paula Caine wasn't asking for a long-term lease agreement. Month-to-month was fine by her, since she was in the process of a divorce and wasn't sure whether or not she'd be able to keep the house when all was said and done.
”I have my kids Monday through Wednesday and every other weekend. When they are here, I need you to make sure the noise level is low to nonexistent after eight o'clock. It's hard enough being a single mother without having someone living in the backyard making noise and keeping them awake. Lord knows I had enough of that when my ex lived here.”
”Not a problem.”
Paula rubbed her palm against her forehead and nodded. ”Glad to hear it.”
Lauren left half an hour later having signed up for the place. She had to be out of the cottage in two weeks, and Paula had already given her the key to the above-garage unit and told her she could come work on it anytime. At least she could get this place cleaned up before she had to live in it. A wave of exhaustion broke over her as she drove back toward the cottage.
Once she arrived, the first thing she did was return to the dress form and the pieces of muslin she'd draped across it last night. She marked and pinned together the fabric to see if it worked the way she wanted it to, then went to cut out the pieces of the blue silk. Many of her friends considered this part tedious and boring to the extreme. Not Lauren, though. To her, it was relaxing. Studying the lines of the garment, looking for the perfect placement of every single piece, well, to her that was like working a puzzle. An intricate puzzle with the potential for incredibly beautiful results.
She spent extra time on each st.i.tch, making sure it was perfect, because this was going to be the finest gown she'd ever produced, and she would settle for nothing less. There would be light beading around the neckline to give just a hint of sparkle, but not too much. This fabric was more than able to stand alone. With each st.i.tch, her determination began to grow. She would do the right thing. Yes, she'd blown it up to this point, but from here on out, she knew her path.
Two weeks pa.s.sed in a swirl of dizzying activity as Lauren balanced her work on the play-the rehearsals of which were now going late into the evening-cleaning up her soon-to-be new apartment, and working feverishly on Miss Montgomery's dress. By the time moving day rolled around, Lauren felt as though she'd been chasing herself around in circles. Today she would be leaving the little cottage she had come to love and the location she loved even more. She had completed Miss Montgomery's dress last night, and the new rental was at least clean enough to be livable.
Lauren loaded the last of her possessions into her Ford Escape. Several times she'd noticed the curtain on the third-floor turret window across the street pulled back. By the time she took her final two loads out, Miss Montgomery was standing out on her porch, not even pretending to do anything but what she was doing. Glaring.
Lauren waited until she'd loaded every single one of her own possessions before she drew a deep breath, picked up the gown, and headed out the door.
As she approached, Miss Montgomery watched her evenly. ”What's that you've got there?”
”I found this gorgeous fabric several weeks ago, and it reminded me of you. I just couldn't leave it behind, so I took the liberty of making a gown based on the measurements of the other dresses.”
”I did not ask for that, nor did I pay you for it.”
”I know. I did it out of . . . well, I did it because I wanted to do something nice for you. Given all that's happened, maybe we should call it an I'm-so-sorry gift. I do hope that you will wear it and enjoy it.”
”I do not take charity.”
”This is not charity. It's a gift. There's a difference.”
Charlotte Montgomery made no move to take the dress. Lauren finally laid it across the nearest porch chair. ”If you choose not to accept it, then please do know it is given with the best of intentions. I purposely didn't bring it over until I was leaving, because I didn't want you to think that I had an ulterior motive. Since I'm leaving now, and we'll likely never meet again, it's obvious that there is nothing I hope to gain from this.”
Miss Montgomery's hand stroked up near her throat, as if feeling for a necklace that wasn't there. She said nothing, simply looked back and forth between Lauren and the dress.
Lauren nodded toward her, eyes suddenly starting to burn. ”I'm sorry about how things ended up. That was my fault. I really wanted nothing more than to be your friend.” She turned and made her way down the sidewalk toward her car, her heart heavy that she had failed. Maybe this just wasn't her time in life to be helpful to anyone. Something she should keep in mind in the future.
Her first evening in the new place, there was a knock on the door. Lauren supposed that it must be Paula coming to check and make sure she was settling in. She pulled open the door, ready to offer her a.s.surances that everything was fine.
Instead she found Kendall Joiner standing there, her arms folded across an LA Marathon T-s.h.i.+rt. ”You've come up in the world. I like your new place.”
Lauren didn't bother to respond, as it was obviously meant sarcastically. She pulled the door a little closer to her shoulder to block any expanded view of the interior or any crazy idea that Kendall might actually be granted entrance. ”Why are you here?”
”You know why I'm here.” She kept her voice low and looked over her shoulder behind her, as if expecting to be overheard.
”I told you, I don't have anything to say to you about Charlotte Montgomery.”
”You told me that before she made certain you were kicked out of your place. Before you ended up in this dump.” She put her hand on the rail and pulled back and forth, watching it rock precariously with the motion. ”Doesn't it bother you at all? That old woman is living in that big ol' house, living a life of luxury, not doing one single thing for anyone except spinning her webs so that people like you, people who are doing their best, get kicked out of their dwellings when they are already going through a hard time that was not of their own doing.”
”What do you know about why I'm here? Come to think of it, how did you even know where to find me?”
”I told you before, I'm a reporter, it's what I do.” She made a point of touching the splintered wood on the doorframe. ”I will say, to be as detail oriented as you seem to be in your work, it's amazing how clueless you are in your life. Otherwise you would have noticed my car following you from the old neighborhood. My sources had told me you were moving out. I simply waited until you drove by and followed you here.”
”That's creepy.”