September Canvas (11 page)

“I want to hear your side of it.” Faythe was propped against the door frame, looking calm, though a bit guarded.

“Why? Nobody’s ever asked for my version of the truth.” Two years’ worth of anger simmered just beneath the surface, and Deanna could taste it as she spoke. It wasn’t fair to take it out on Faythe, but she was the only one here.

“Often things aren’t quite as they seem. I’ve learned that by conducting hundreds of interviews. If I look at this situation logically, I see clear discrepancies between what I know about you and what you just told me about this Savannah girl.” Faythe didn’t sound casual and sweet-natured. Her vocabulary and her voice quality had changed.

Deanna guessed this was how the professional Faythe sounded when she entered people’s breakfast nook from their TV screens. Professional, articulate, shrewd, and stunningly beautiful.

“Guess this wasn’t what you had in mind when you showed up on my doorstep, huh?” Deanna motioned toward the coffee machine on the countertop. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please. We could probably both use a mug.” Faythe sat down at the small table by the window overlooking the lake. The moon was filtering rays of pale blue light between the maples and creating shimmering sparkles on the water. Deanna was in no mood to appreciate the breathtaking beauty, but sat down across from Faythe.

“Just tell me, Deanna,” Faythe said quietly. “It’s about time you told someone.”

“It’s not that easy.” Deanna followed a scratch in the old oak table with her index finger. “It’s not just about me.”

“This isn’t an interview.” Faythe squeezed Deanna’s hand. “It’s not even an off-the-record thing. I’m not sitting here in my professional capacity. I’m just me now.”

“All right.” Deanna could actually feel energy stream from Faythe’s hand. She wasn’t comfortable with showing any sign of neediness, but clung to Faythe with cold fingers. “I moved here nine years ago, for family reasons. The first two years I barely supported myself as an illustrator, then got a job as an arts teacher at Grantville High School. I loved working with the kids, especially the ones in junior high. I managed to keep my career as an illustrator going at the same time, and everything seemed to fall into place.”

“Until…”

“Until two years ago when Savannah Mueller began her senior year. We’re talking homecoming queen, the mayor’s daughter, the captain of the cheerleader team. And a terrific student, always on the honor roll. Little Ms. Perfect.”

“Sounds unbearable,” Faythe said. “Go on.”

“Actually, Savannah was a nice kid. She was usually far more levelheaded than her mother. I never saw the trouble coming. I really didn’t.” Deanna rose to get the coffee, but sat down again when Faythe pressed a steady hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll get it.” She brought two steaming mugs and headed to the fridge for some milk. “Okay, where were we? Oh, that’s right. Little Ms. Perfect. Nice girl. Then what?”

“Savannah developed a crush on me. I could tell early on, and she wasn’t the first girl to idolize me, so I took it in stride and treated her kindly, but no different than anyone else. I told myself it was a normal, passing-phase thing.” Deanna cupped her hands around the mug, warming them, but found it lacking compared to the comfort of Faythe’s hands. “As it turned out, I was wrong.”

“She pursued you?” Faythe rested her chin in her palm.

“Savannah was probably used to
being
pursued, rather than the other way around. She started out by making herself useful—carrying equipment, cleaning brushes, putting up chairs at the end of the day.

When I didn’t take the bait, she stepped it up a notch by convincing her parents to invite me to different functions, benefits, that sort of thing, trying to get me involved.

At first I was impressed when I realized how many charities her mother was head of. It took me a while to understand that Gloria Mueller was not acting out of the goodness of her heart, but because she wanted to be the queen bee. She ran those charities like they were her kingdoms and the employees and other volunteers were her loyal subjects. When I discovered what was happening, I bowed out. That’s when Savannah began her siege.

“She seemed devastated that I wasn’t impressed enough to keep going to the meetings. One day she stayed after class and burst into tears, clinging to me, telling me that she loved me and that she couldn’t bear to be without me.” Deanna tried to smile, but her lips trembled too much. “I was shocked. A schoolgirl crush I could deal with, but these raw emotions, the despair. I guess I handled the situation badly.”

“What did you do?” There was no judgment in Faythe’s voice.

“I told her that what she felt wasn’t love. I gave her the generic speech about how common it is for a young person to idolize a teacher, a role model.” Deanna shrugged. “Savannah didn’t take it very well. I chalked that up to her being a spoiled only child to wealthy, influential parents. I was obviously dead wrong.”

“What happened?”

“She was crushed. She’d told her best friends about ‘us’ and, I suppose, turned some of her wishful thinking into ‘facts.’ They truly believed that she and I were lovers. Later, Savannah told them that we wanted to elope to Canada, to get married.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Yes. I was shocked. And angry. I lashed out at her, telling her there was no ‘us,’ and never would be. I explained that I thought she was a nice kid, but that was it. I wasn’t in love with her, and it wasn’t going to happen.”

“Oh, Deanna.”

“I know. I broke her heart. And she reacted the only way she knew how. Revenge.” Deanna closed her eyes and felt Faythe take her hands and remove the coffee mug. She opened her eyes when Faythe pulled her up from the chair and guided her to the couch. There, she sat down and tugged at Deanna, making her sit next to her, wrapping them both with a blanket.

“You looked so cold. Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Deanna allowed the warmth of Faythe’s body to permeate hers before she continued. Talking about this no longer seemed a choice, but a necessity. “Suddenly, it wasn’t just Savannah’s best friends who knew about ‘us.’ Everybody, students and faculty alike, thought that I had seduced my most beautiful pupil and more or less left her at the altar. I wasn’t even out at work, then. But I thought, naïve as I was, that the faculty would realize how preposterous this accusation was.

I was shocked when I realized they’d swallowed everything Savannah dished out—hook, line, and sinker. She didn’t have to act heartbroken. She was. But she used her pain to nail me, and once her mother got involved, I was history. It only took Gloria a week to get the word out. Remember, she had all these connections and ran all the major charities and events
and
was the mayor’s wife. Her word in Grantville, was, and still is, the law, even if her husband isn’t the mayor anymore. So I quit.”

“Why? You could have fought them. They didn’t have any evidence.”

“Oh, but they thought they knew what happened. No smoke without fire, right? And when my colleagues found out, I imagine the fact that I’m a lesbian and that Savannah
confessed
to such a thing made it very plausible. Why would anyone admit to a lesbian affair, which they considered such a stigma, if it wasn’t true? Why subject yourself to that kind of gossip?”

“I see. So Savannah had them all believing you bedded her, then abandoned her and broke her heart.”

“The school’s board of directors called an emergency meeting. They assured all the concerned parents and local media that they had launched an investigation, which was a lie. They’d already made up their minds. The hidden message was that they would make sure that no sexual predator—that would be me,” Deanna said, laughing bitterly, “would ever be able to prey on any of Grantville High’s pupils again.”

“They said that? I can’t believe it.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that Gloria Mueller is a member of the public and private school boards, as well as the PTA?”

“Ah. I see. Know thine enemy.” Still, Faythe realized that she didn’t fully understand. “Something is off. You could have fought this, tooth and nail. It’s as if they’ve got a hold on you.”

“You’re very perceptive. I should’ve realized.” Deanna shook her head, twisting the edge of the blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, wrinkles marring her forehead. “I
can’t
tell you. Not everything. I’ve told you more than I’ve confided in anyone.”

“I see.” Faythe looked at Deanna with concern, and Deanna wondered what was going through her head. “You obviously have your reasons, strong ones, but you have to understand that it sounds strange.

It’s out of character that you didn’t sue everyone for slander and defamation of character. Your silence must’ve made you look guilty in everyone’s eyes. When I listen to my gut instinct, I can’t believe you’d prey on a young girl. No way.” Faythe sighed. “I mean, I’ve heard family members and neighbors of people accused of such things state the same thing, that their loved one would never prey on anyone, that they must be innocent—”

“And then it turned out they were guilty after all.” Deanna shrugged. “Can’t blame you if you think I’m lying through my teeth. If you think it’s possible I could seduce young teens and promise them marriage in Canada—” Deanna went rigid, pushing the blanket half off.

Stupid tears ran down her cheeks and tremors reverberated throughout her and made her hands shake, but she refused to even blink when she looked at Faythe. She was caught in this web of lies, but she would not give anyone the satisfaction of breaking down completely.
Show no
fear.
 “So, what kept you in Grantville after you were ostracized?” Faythe was obviously not giving up.

“Everyone expected me to,
wanted
me to move as far away from Grantville as possible.”

“Why didn’t you?” Faythe gently pushed Deanna’s hair back from her face. The touch meant more to Deanna than Faythe could ever guess.“Because of Miranda, my sister. I could never leave her behind. She’s a student at a facility in this town for children with special needs. She depends on me. That’s all I can tell you.” Deanna’s eyes begged Faythe not to force the issue.

“And it’s not enough for me to understand. I can’t connect the dots between you succumbing to slander, to sacrificing yourself like that for your sister.” Faythe took both of Deanna’s hands under the blanket.

“But you saved my life and I owe you the benefit of the doubt. Still, I can’t help you with this new situation with Savannah if you don’t keep me in the loop.”

“Oh, God. Savannah. I haven’t spoken to her, or she to me, for two years. I saw her at the supermarket and she wants to talk to me.”

“Really?” Faythe looked surprised. “Any guess as to why?”

“No idea. She seemed genuinely concerned about something and looked very different from the cheerleader teen she was two years ago. Obviously something’s going on.”

“Any chance of an apology? Preferably a public one with a chance to clear your name.”

“Perhaps. But it seemed more than that. And it scares me. If anyone finds out that we’ve spoken, even in passing, I’m afraid everything will be like it was two years ago. People still hate my guts, and occasionally I run into someone who feels the right to give me a piece of their mind. But compared to how it was back then…” Deanna leaned her head back against the couch. “I suppose everything is relative.”

“It sure is.” Faythe sucked her lower lip in. “Let me think. Since you’re actually considering listening to this misguided young woman, you shouldn’t do it here at your house, or in public.”

“No, no.”

“A motel room sounds even worse.”

“Faythe.” Deanna winced. “I can’t see how we could possibly arrange it.”

“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself, or to Miranda?”

“In some ways you’re right—”

“And you won’t tell me in what ways I’m wrong.” Rubbing the back of her head, Faythe messed up her hair completely. “Listen. Aunt Nellie’s house might be a good option. I know it’s close to your property, but nobody knows that we’re friends.”

“I can’t let you risk
your
reputation like that.”

“You’re not. You’re risking Aunt Nellie’s.” Faythe wrinkled her nose. “And she’s too rich to care. Not even the Gloria Muellers of this world have any impact on Nellie.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Holding up her hand, Faythe suddenly looked stern in a way Deanna hadn’t seen before. “If you decide to find out what she wants, then tell her you can meet at my house and that I’ll witness what you two say. I won’t have her try to trap you into something worse than she got you into in the first place.”

Deanna stared at Faythe. “You—you really seem to believe in me.” 

“I really do want to believe in you, Deanna.”

“Okay, I’ll think about your offer. Thank you.” Deanna clutched Faythe’s hands. “It’s been so long since anyone even considered taking my side.”

“It bothers me that nobody stood up for you.”

“It hurt me for the longest time that my so-called friends among the faculty turned their backs on me so readily. Back then I didn’t know what Gloria was capable of.” Deanna knew she was explaining too much and cut herself off. “Let’s just say I understood why they couldn’t—I mean, didn’t dare to support me. Neither of them wanted to risk losing their jobs. If you cross Gloria Mueller, it’s damn hard to find a new employer in this town within the educational system. It wasn’t their fault any more than it was mine.” Deanna tried to speak in a matter-of-fact way, but knew her pain still shone through.

“Remember where I used to work,” Faythe said softly. “Public opinion doesn’t sway me very easily, probably since journalists are experts at putting spin on things.”

“Thank you.” Deanna slumped back. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too. Intense conversations can wear you out.”

“Well, try imagining the first intense conversation in more than two years. I’m out of practice.”

Deanna looked at the pink business card Savannah had given her. At first she had merely tucked it away. Of the many conflicting emotions that flooded her system, anger was the strongest.

She was about to tear the silly card in two and forget the whole painful thing when she stopped. The card had a small tear at the top edge, but the phone numbers were intact underneath the swirly font that spelled out Savannah Mueller, Customer Service, Grantville Animal Shelter.