Part 18 (1/2)
”Have you seen Catherine?”
Vivian slowly turned from her computer and looked up at Jan.
”Hoping for another make out session, are we?”
Jan decided to pretend she didn't know what Vivian was talking about. She couldn't take the teasing just now.
”I need to talk to her about something.”
”Uh huh. Well, you're in luck. She left about half an hour ago to go back to her hotel. Perhaps you'd care to join her there?”
”Did she say if she'd be back?”
Vivian smiled in that way that said a person both pitied and wanted to comfort you, which wasn't in the least comforting. ”Is she not keeping you up-to-date on her whereabouts, sugar? That's rough. I'd be careful with her if I were you.”
”Why do you say that?” Jan took the bait. She wanted to know.
”She runs at a different speed than you, I think. Maybe not in your wheelhouse.”
Jan didn't feel insulted. She thought it was probably true. ”Just tell me what you know about when she'll be back.”
”She didn't say. She just blasted out of here and told me to reach her on her cell with anything important. I can tell you where she's staying if you'd like.”
”That's okay. I already know.”
”Good girl,” Vivian said as she turned to her computer. ”Just be careful. And don't forget that form I dropped off.”
Jan left her car with the Ritz valet and took the two elevators up to Catherine's room. The contrast with the Pinehurst Inn wasn't lost on her, nor the realization that the Pinehurst fit her much better than the Ritz, and the opposite was true for Catherine.
She knocked on the door to Catherine's room.
”Who is it?” Catherine's voice came through the thick wood door.
”It's Jan.”
”I'm afraid this isn't a good time. May I call you?”
Jan's heart started to sink. Something wasn't right. She heard another m.u.f.fled voice in the room, and before she could decide whether to stay or flee, the door was thrown open. Standing before her in a white Ritz bathrobe was Ellen. Jan recognized her from the photos she'd studied online, but she was more beautiful in person. Catherine stood behind her, taking Ellen's arm and tugging her away from the door.
”Is this the new woman?” Ellen asked. She didn't seem angry as much as contemptuous. Jan stood frozen in place as Catherine stepped closer to her. ”Ellen, please. This is someone from my office. Jan, I'm very sorry. I'll have to get back to you later.”
”Don't be silly, sweetheart. Let's let Jan in and you two can take care of your business matter.” She pulled Jan in by the arm. She felt she was being pulled into a drama she wanted no part of. She lifted her arm away from Ellen and stepped back.
”Oh, sorry,” Ellen said. ”I haven't properly introduced myself, since Catherine is apparently not going to do the honors. I'm Ellen, Catherine's wife. Maybe you didn't know she was married?”
Jan turned and left, striding down the long hallway as fast as she could without breaking into a trot, but not fast enough to escape the sound of Ellen's laughter. A mad sort of laughter, as if catching Catherine with another woman was a form of triumph rather than a source of sadness or anger. Then she heard the door slam shut.
It was only October, but already the white holiday lights were hung up and down Michigan Avenue, sparkling now as Jan drove through the rush hour traffic. The days were short. But not as short, Jan thought, as the time she seemed to be allowed to be happy. Half a day here, perhaps an overnight there. It was stripped away almost as soon as she realized how good she felt. She was being dunked in and out of happiness. She was p.i.s.sed off.
Jan realized she might be a little unrealistic about how long it took to end a long-term relations.h.i.+p, a marriage, given her complete lack of experience at either having one or getting out of one. But the way Catherine seemed to be nearly cowering in the room behind Ellen made Jan lose heart. She felt betrayed and utterly confused. When her phone rang she checked to make sure it wasn't Catherine before taking the call.
”It's Natalie Towne,” the voice said. It took a moment for Jan to remember the high school teacher. The very helpful, quite good-looking high school teacher. ”I'm sorry if I'm catching you at a bad time.”
”Not a bad time at all. What can I do for you?”
”I don't know if you're at liberty to say, but I was hoping you could tell me if you've found Maddy. We haven't heard a word at the school.”
Jan drove down the ramp that took her onto Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive and sped north with the traffic.
”It's nice that you called. And I wish I could tell you that we have found Maddy, but we haven't.”
”I'm so sorry to hear that. Her parents must be frantic.”
Jan bit her tongue. It never paid to disparage her clients, but it was sometimes very tempting.
”I think we have some leads to go on. We're heading out to Idaho tomorrow morning to try to track her down.”
”Idaho?”
”It turns out the term paper she wrote for your cla.s.s was practically a road map. We just missed her in Michigan and have reason to believe she and others are heading to Idaho.”
Natalie was quiet for a moment. ”That's astounding. I mean, I didn't think she was really going to do anything about this living free from society thing she wrote about. She's only sixteen.”
Jan was nearing Belmont, where she'd turn off to go to her place. Or to a bar.
”This may seem out of the blue,” Natalie said, ”but could you meet for a drink by any chance?”
”Where are you now?”
”I'm at home. I live in Lakeview. You live in the city, don't you?”
”Yeah, in Lakeview.”
”Can you meet me at The Closet?” Natalie said.
The Closet was one of the oldest gay bars in the city. This put a whole new light on meeting Natalie for a drink.
”I can be there in a few minutes.”
Jan hung up and got off the Drive at Belmont and then north on Broadway, back into the heart of Boystown. All roads lead to Boystown, it seemed. And everyone was gay. She hadn't really picked up a vibe from Natalie, had only thought she was pretty when she first met her, and a welcome distraction when she called a few minutes before. And now she was poised to be a pretty big distraction, which was just what she needed. She resolved to put Catherine out of her mind and concentrated on finding parking within hiking distance of The Closet.
The bar was half full when Jan entered. She settled onto a barstool at the end farthest from the door, away from a noisy group of young lesbians who were acting like it was two in the morning rather than six in the evening. Jan never acted like it was two in the morning, even when it was, even when she'd been their age. She was sober even when she was drunk, serious even when she joked. She thought she must be a complete drag to be around.
She saw Natalie enter and look around the bar for Jan. When Natalie spotted her she began to make her way back, stopped a couple times along the way by peoplemen and womenwho wanted to say h.e.l.lo to her. She was not a drag to be around, it seemed. And she looked greatlayers of clothes in fall colors, the kind of a.s.semblage of disparate pieces that some women put together so brilliantly, and seemingly effortlessly. They knew how to tie scarves twelve different ways, all of which looked like they'd been flung carelessly around the neck and fallen into an arrangement that perfectly complimented the look and feel of what they wore. It was all well beyond Jan how any of this was possible. Catherine was the same way.