September Canvas (23 page)

“What about me, Nana?” Pammie asked, her voice low.

“You know I love you.” Savannah looked away.

“I’m not sure. You lock me out. You won’t even talk about certain things. You let your mother’s bigotry rule your life. You speak like you’re independent, but you live a life of perpetual guilt, endlessly punishing yourself.”

“I thought you understood!” Savannah stared at Pammie as if she was a perfect stranger. “Haven’t you been listening? I did something unspeakable to someone who was nothing but nice to me. That should tell you something.”

“It tells me you were a screwed-up kid two years ago, but you’re not the same person now.”

“I agree.” Deanna couldn’t stand to see Savannah beat herself up.

“You do?” Savannah asked.

“You’re a different person, and so am I.”

“Of course you are,” Savannah whispered. “You’ve had to live with the false rumors and innuendo all this time.”

“Yes.” There was no point denying facts.

“Why?” Faythe asked calmly. “Why you didn’t press charges, or at least leave town?”

Deanna shook her head. “That’s got nothing to do with Savannah’s issues.”

“I think it does.” Faythe spoke casually, but something in her eyes made Deanna suspect that she knew the answer, or had guessed it.
If
she’s guessed it, she ought to know why I can’t say anything now.

“I can’t.” Deanna tried to convey her dilemma to Faythe with a glance.

“Oh.” Savannah covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”

“What? Are you okay?” Pammie wrapped her arm around Savannah’s shoulders.

“Yes. No. Oh, damn it.” Savannah stared at Deanna, her eyes welling up with new tears. “I know. Please, I want to be wrong, but I think I know.”

“Tell us what you think you know, Savannah.” Faythe sounded concerned, but placed a steadying hand on top of Savannah’s clasped fists. Savannah closed her eyes and large teardrops ran down her pale cheeks. “She must’ve read my diary. I should’ve known.”

Savannah’s pain and frustration seemed to ooze out of every pore on her flawless skin, creating an aura of despair. She didn’t take her eyes off Deanna, but clung to Pammie’s hands as she spoke.“Mom must’ve read my diary and that means…she knew the truth all along. Or at least, the last year and a half.” Savannah hiccupped.

“Here, let me get you some water,” Pammie said, and tried to gently pry Savannah’s fingers from her own.

“I’ll get it,” Faythe said. “I think we all need something to drink. Juice, water, soda?”

“Orange juice, please. I’ll help you,” Deanna offered.

Sensing Deanna needed a few moments to digest the latest tidbit of information, Faythe nodded and they walked to the other end of the kitchen. Faythe opened the refrigerator. “We’re in luck, two cartons of orange juice.” Faythe filled one pitcher with iced water and a second with juice and ice cubes. “Glasses?” she prompted Deanna, who stood staring out the window.

“Oh, right.” Deanna took four glasses from a cabinet and carried them over to the table. Faythe followed suit with the pitchers and sat down. She moved her chair closer to Deanna’s, concerned by her stunned expression. They all sipped their drinks in silence, evidently regrouping.

“Feeling better?” Pammie asked Savannah. “You looked so pale.”

“I’m okay.” Savannah played with the rim of her glass. “Just trying to come to terms with what my mother did. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about it before. Why did she let this go on?”

“Oh, I can think of a few reasons.” Deanna had a knowing look on her face.

“Far too many people with hidden agendas here.” Pammie sighed.

“Speaking of that,” Deanna said, “I don’t remember you being part of Savannah’s clique in high school.”

“I wasn’t. I worshipped her from afar. Once we graduated, I mustered enough courage to make my move.” Pammie grinned at Savannah, who blushed. “She was still pining for Deanna.”

“Pammie!” Savannah hid her face in her hands.”You’re making it worse.”

“Sorry.”

“I made such a mess of things. I must’ve been out of my mind.”

“Well,” Deanna said slowly, “you seem to be back in charge of your mind right now. You’ve figured out that your mother is a lying, manipulative—” She stopped herself. “I could go on, but I won’t.”

“So if Gloria knows you’re innocent, Deanna, I don’t think it’s hard to figure out why she kept the illusion going.” Faythe counted on her fingers. “She doesn’t want to have her daughter branded a liar in this little town. And she can still claim that Savannah really isn’t gay, but an innocent caught in an Evil Lesbian’s yarn.” Savannah winced, but remained quiet.

“Third,” Faythe continued, “she doesn’t want her peers to laugh at her and call her a gullible fool, and finally, she honestly seems thrilled to be able to rally her peers against Deanna. Makes you wonder which of these motives might be the main one.”

“Losing face.” Savannah straightened in her chair and spoke clearly for the first time. “My mother is all about appearances. She’d go through fire and water to maintain her position in Grantville. When my father was elected mayor two terms in a row, she was the happiest she’s ever been. Of course, when I created the scandal of the year she must have been really let down.”

“And we still don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle,” Faythe said. “Until you decide to trust us enough to share
your
motives for not pressing charges for slander, et cetera, we’ll keep on guessing.”

“It’s not just about me.” Deanna looked sad, but less tormented now. 

“All right.” Faythe looked around the pale faces. She felt like a television moderator as she tried to get the others to sum the situation up. “What have we accomplished here today?”

“We’ve broken the silence.” Savannah smiled carefully. “I’ve come clean about my part in this. I have no more secrets… Well, maybe something I want to tell Pammie later, but nothing that concerns this.”

“I feel like Nana. Nothing can make a rumor fester like not facing it.” 

“And you?” Faythe turned her attention toward Deanna.

“I appreciate Savannah taking full responsibility for her actions. It doesn’t change anything, from a practical point of view, but it does emotionally.”

“I wish I could redo everything when it would’ve mattered.” Savannah reached out a tentative hand and Faythe held her breath. When Deanna took Savannah’s hand, squeezed and held it for a moment, she exhaled so loudly the others looked questioningly at her. “Faythe? You okay?” Savannah asked.

“Fine. I’m fine.” It was only partially true. No matter how much she hoped Deanna and Savannah would figure things out, Faythe still felt as if she’d left part of her soul scattered on the floor where she and Deanna had yelled at each other so bitterly.

“We should come up with a plan how to clear Deanna’s name.” Pammie looked resolute.

“No.” Deanna looked even more stubborn. “We shouldn’t. Nothing can be done about it now.”

“But why ever not?” Faythe blurted. “You’ve been wrongly accused for years, and now that Savannah’s come clean with you, what reason could you possibly have to refuse?”

“I just do. Take my word for it, and please…if you care…if you can forgive what I said earlier and still care about me, don’t pursue this. Please.” Deanna wasn’t pleading, she was virtually begging, and Faythe couldn’t refuse.

“All right, all right,” Faythe said. “I can’t promise I won’t ask you for an explanation later, though. And about the matter of forgiving, we’ll talk more about that later.”

“Uh-oh.” Pammie looked at Deanna with sympathy. “Think some groveling is in order.”

“Think so?” Deanna sighed, but nodded. “I can grovel. Haven’t done it in a while. Can’t remember when, actually. Still, if groveling is what it takes, grovel I will.”

“Oh, please.” Faythe had to smile despite everything.

“Hilarious.”

“Honestly. I don’t want you to think I meant any of what I said.” Deanna took Faythe’s hand and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles.

“I see.” Faythe’s fingers tingled at the touch, and Deanna held on when she tried to let go. “Now, it’s getting late, ladies, and I for one am very hungry.” She glanced out the window. “Looks like it’s raining pretty badly. I thought I’d call for takeout tonight. Why don’t you two girls stay? Driving back to Grantville in this weather is hardly ideal when you’re upset.”

“You’re asking us to stay?” Savannah looked baffled.

“Sure. We still have lots to talk about. It would be nice to just chat away about everyday stuff. Just to relax some.”

“This sure hasn’t been relaxing,” Pammie said. “I’d love to pig out on Chinese food, though.”

“Oh, me too,” Deanna said, surprisingly. “Something about fried rice just—”

“Comfort food,” Savannah added shyly. “I never had that type of food when I lived at home, but after I moved out, I happen to live just one block from a terrific hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant. They deliver too.”

“So you recommend them?” Faythe grabbed her cell phone.

“I do. I even know their number by heart.” Savannah recited the phone number to Faythe. “You can order their special for four people so we’ll get to sample all of their stuff. I guarantee we’ll be full and then some.”

“Sounds good.” Faythe called and placed their order. “Thirty to forty-five minutes. That’s not bad when you consider how many dishes we get to try.”

“Oh, look at that!” Savannah pointed out the window where rain had begun to fall, and the wind seemed set on ripping the last orange and red leaves from the maple trees. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Thinking of our food or about getting home?” Deanna asked.

“Both. When it starts like that, like out of nowhere, it’s usually bad news.” Savannah peered up at the sky.

“I have plenty of guest rooms, so don’t worry about a thing. Anyone need to call anybody?” Faythe wiggled the cell phone at the two girls.

Savannah shook her head and pulled her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Nobody’s expecting me until lunchtime tomorrow, at work.”

“I’m fine too. I’m driving back to college tomorrow, but I can wait until Sunday,” Pammie said. “Anything we can help you with? What about garden stuff that might blow into the water or something?”

“You’re an angel.” Faythe slapped her forehead. “The swing and the patio furniture I dragged down to the shore.”

“We’ll get it.” Savannah looked relieved to have something to focus on. She dragged Pammie with her to the hallway.

“You can stick the stuff in the garage.” Faythe gave them a set of keys before they headed out the door.

“They’ll get soaked.” Faythe looked worriedly out the window.

“If they hurt themselves trying to keep a few garden chairs safe—”

“They’ll be fine. Look. There they are already.” Deanna pointed out the window. They had linked arms and were doubling over against the wind as they staggered toward the house. Faythe met them at the door and at first thought Savannah was crying. Doubled over, she hung off Pammie’s left arm.

“I knew it.” Faythe rushed to help them. “What happened? Savannah?”

Savannah looked up, and now Faythe saw she was wiping away tears from laughter. “I’m sorry, Faythe. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“What? What happened?” Faythe asked as she helped them get rid of their wet jackets.

“Pammie. She got tangled in the string. I mean the rope. And she was
cursing
, worse than I ever heard her do before.”

“What string?” Deanna had joined them.

“She tried to save the hammock.” Savannah started to laugh again.

“She managed to untie it, and when she was rolling it into a ball, the wind turned. The hammock would be a good sail, by the way. It nearly blew off onto the lake with Pammie.”

“She’s exaggerating.” Pammie looked amused.

“Am
not
.” Savannah blew at an errant piece of hair that hung over her eyes.

Faythe had forgotten about the hammock and could envision Pammie’s struggle to keep it under control. “Well, thanks for taking care of the furniture. I appreciate it.” She walked over to where she’d written down the ETA of the Chinese food. “Twenty minutes until the food gets here. Enough time for us all to get a shower and clean up our act.” “Good idea, except we didn’t bring a change of clothing.”

“Other guests have left some clothes over the years. They’re in the guest room dressers, and you’re welcome to anything of mine,” Faythe said.

“Or mine,” Deanna added. “Pammie’s probably more my size.”

“Could be.” Pammie sized Deanna up. “We’re the same height, give or take an inch.”

“I believe so. I’ll show you the guest rooms.” Faythe was grateful not having to walk around on her sore foot any more than necessary. When Deanna returned, Faythe tried to mask her limp as she crossed the living room to her bedroom.

“You’re in pain again.” It was obviously hard to fool Deanna.

“Just a bit. No big deal.” Her bruised heart ached worse than her foot. “A hot shower or, better, a bath, would do you a world of good.”

“Way ahead of you. On my way to the shower.”

“May I join you?” Deanna spoke carefully, enunciating every syllable, but she obviously thought Faythe would reject her instantly.

“All right.” Faythe didn’t know where she found the courage not to recoil. “I could use someone to scrub my back.”

“I volunteer.” Deanna cupped Faythe’s chin. “Am I forgiven?”

“Do you believe me? Do you believe
in
me?” Faythe countered with questions of her own. She doubted Deanna really understood how profoundly she’d hurt Faythe with her words.

“Yes. If I hadn’t been so upset, I never would’ve reacted the way I did.”

“And the next time you’re upset?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever doubt you again. If I even hint at anything in that direction, please slap me over the head and remind me of today.”

Faythe laced her fingers through Deanna’s hair. “I’d never slap you. Anywhere. But I’d smack you verbally and make you listen to me. No matter what.”

“Thank you.”

“And before we hit the shower, I have one more question.”

“Shoot.” Deanna leaned down and brushed her lips across the tip of Faythe’s nose.