Read Welcome to Last Chance Online

Authors: Cathleen Armstrong

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027020, #Self-realization in women—Fiction

Welcome to Last Chance (5 page)

BOOK: Welcome to Last Chance
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“Here you are! Get everything taken care of?” She started to struggle out of her recliner, but when Lainie waved her back, she returned to her crocheting. “I had Ray put everything back in your room. He sure was in some kind of mood, though. He wanted to dump every blessed thing you had in your car on the floor of your room, trash and all.”

Lainie headed back to her room. As she passed the sofa, an
enormous gray-and-white tabby jumped off with a thud and padded behind her.

“That's Sam,” Elizabeth called after her. “He thinks he owns the place. If you don't want him in there with you, just shove him on out. He's not the big shot he thinks he is.”

Sam trotted past Lainie and led the way into her room. He rubbed his whiskers and chin against the two cardboard boxes and the suitcase that held all her belongings before he jumped up on the bed, stretched, and curled up in a patch of sunshine. Lainie could hear the deep rumble of his purr from where she stood in the doorway.

“This your space? Well, get used to sharing it.”

It didn't take her long to unpack. She shook out the clothes in her suitcase and folded them away in the lined dresser drawers. She didn't have much else, just a few things that she carefully arranged and rearranged on the dresser—a snow globe with Mickey Mouse in a wizard's hat and robe that her father had given her for her eighth birthday, some makeup, a brush. When she finished, she clutched her backpack to her chest for a moment before crawling to the back of the closet, where she pushed aside the zippered garment bags hanging there and tucked her backpack into the corner. It disappeared into the darkness as the garment bags fell back into place.

Outside, the white clouds that had been boiling up took on a gray tinge, and the white curtains danced at the window. A sudden gust blew the door shut with a slam, and Sam jumped to his feet, blinked, and lay back down. Lainie opened the door.

“You want out? You better go while you can.” Sam looked at her with half-open eyes and twisted to wash his stomach.

“This is your last chance.” Sam closed his eyes and purred louder.

“Okay, cat, but don't think I'm getting up to let you out.”

Sam offered the resistance of a fifteen-pound beanbag when
Lainie pushed him to one side and lay down next to him. The pillowcase was cool and crisp against her cheek and smelled fresh, like rain. Lainie closed her eyes. Sam oozed over until he was lying against her, but she was barely aware that the steady pressure down her side from hip to knee was him or that the soft rumble that lifted her into unconsciousness was the tremor of his purr.

5

R
ay was squatting on his heels behind the bar the next morning checking his supplies when he heard the door open and someone step in. He waited for a voice, but there was only silence.

“Not open yet. Come back in an hour or so.”

His hand closed around the baseball bat he kept under the bar and he stood up, keeping the bat out of sight under the counter. It was only that crazy California girl. He slid it back on its shelf.

“What can I do for you?”

“First of all, I want to say I'm sorry about yesterday.” The girl smiled, and he noticed that when she wasn't screaming her head off, she wasn't bad looking. “I sort of lost it.”

Ray shrugged. He sure wasn't going to argue with that.

“Anyway, can we start over?”

She was all over sugar, but that made Ray even more uncomfortable. He had heard about those split-personality people, and he was sure that if ever there was one, she was standing in his bar this minute. He had seen her all of three times and she had been a completely different person every time.

“I was hoping I could use your phone. I need to make some calls, and I don't need Elizabeth or Fayette hanging over my shoulder listening in.”

“There's a pay phone in the hall there by the restrooms. Help yourself.”

“Well, the thing is, my calling card is about out of minutes, and I'm about out of cash. Do you have a phone that isn't pay? I promise I'll keep it short.”

Ray noticed she had a dimple when she smiled. He crossed the bar and opened the door to the storeroom that doubled as his office. “The phone's there on the desk. I'll ask you to keep the door open, though, if you don't mind.”

Lainie sat on the desk with her back to the door. She kept her voice low and Ray couldn't hear what she said, even if he were interested, which he wasn't. But he could hear her tone, and Miss Sugar was giving way to Miss Ticked-off. Finally she yelled, “All right! Just forget I called!” and slammed down the phone.

He was actually kind of curious about which personality she would have when she came back in the room, although he made sure the bar was between them, just in case. But when she came in, climbed on a stool, and asked for a beer, she just looked scared. Ray found himself wondering if he could get that dimple back.

“Can't give you a beer. We're not open yet. But how about a soda? On the house.”

She closed both hands around the soft drink Ray put in front of her but didn't drink it or even look up. She looked a lot smaller sitting huddled on that bar stool than she had looked in the parking lot yesterday.

“Everything okay?” Ray poured a bowl of peanuts and set it next to her.

She didn't look at him or at the peanuts, and when she spoke, it was more to herself than to him. “I am so stuck here.”

Ray was good at assessing his patrons' moods, and usually when they didn't feel like talking he just left them alone, but something about the way she was hanging on to that soda like it was the only thing keeping her from falling off the stool made him stick his neck out even though he knew better.

“Nobody could help you out, huh? Well, there's worse places you could have wound up. And you're bound to figure something out eventually.” He knew he had made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

Lainie shoved her untouched soft drink at him, leaving it rocking in a pool of sloshed fizz. Her feet hit the floor with a thump. “Really? Do you even know what you're talking about? You may think there's worse places, but let me tell you, I have actually been out there, and there aren't. Not anywhere. And I am stuck here. Stuck with a bunch of nosy religious nuts and one bartender with an imaginary family.”

“Look, lady.” Ray had had enough of this drama queen. “Let me help you out of town. Just tell me where you want to go. I'll drive you to the bus station in San Ramon right now and buy you a ticket. It'll be money well spent, believe me. Come on, let's go.” He slammed his bar rag down and snatched his hat off the rack by the door, giving the brim a good jerk over his eyes. He yanked the door open and stood in the shaft of sunlight that poured in. “Well? What are you waiting for? We can get your stuff and still get you to San Ramon in time to catch the 2:30 eastbound. And if you want to go north or west or just about anywhere, they have busses going there too.”

“Fine!”

For a minute Lainie had the same scary look on her face that she had yesterday in the parking lot, but Ray stood his ground by reminding himself that he was a head taller and probably outweighed her by seventy-five pounds. She didn't come after him this time, though. She just seemed to sort of crumple, and her voice, when it came, was barely audible.

“I don't know where to go.”

“Where's your people? Don't you have anybody back in California?”

Lainie shook her head and rubbed the heel of her hand across her cheek. “Nope. I think my mom might be in Wyoming somewhere, but I haven't seen her in a long time. And she wouldn't want me turning up, anyway.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, right, friends. I've got a boatload of really great friends.”

Ray shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his back pockets. He had never known anyone who didn't have more family than they knew what to do with, or friends either, for that matter. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Sometimes it was best to just shut up.

Lainie climbed back on her stool. She dragged her finger through the spilled soda and made little squiggly designs on the bar. Ray stood watching, but she seemed to have forgotten he was there. He closed the door, hung his hat back on the rack, and went on with his work. He was just about to turn the neon Open sign on when Lainie sighed and slipped off her stool again.

“Well, I guess I'll go on back to Elizabeth's. Thanks for letting me use your phone.”

“Sure thing.”

Lainie's shoulders slumped like she still lugged that backpack of hers. Ray made one more try.

“Hey.”

She stopped at the door and looked at him.

“Don't bite my head off, but I meant what I said. Religious nuts and delusional bartenders aside, the people here are good folk. You could have done a lot worse. And I have been out there too.”

Lainie pulled open the door. The sun made her hair look sparkly, almost white. “Yeah, sure.”

Ray was still trying to think of something else to say when the door closed behind her.

6

L
ainie woke to a vague sense of dread. It took a moment before she could identify its source. It was Sunday morning and Elizabeth expected her to go to church. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. No way. Lainie hadn't let anyone tell her what to do in a long, long time, and she wasn't about to start now. She squared her shoulders and headed down the hall in her bare feet and faded Dodgers T-shirt toward the kitchen and the smell of frying chicken.

“Got any aspirin?” Lainie leaned against the doorjamb and rubbed between her eyes with two fingers.

Elizabeth wiped her hands on the apron she had tied over her housecoat, her face a mask of concern. “There in the cupboard next to the sink with the glasses. What's the matter, honey?”

Lainie shook two tablets into her hand. She washed them down, poured a cup of coffee, and sank into a kitchen chair.

“I don't feel so hot this morning. I think I'll just stay home.”

The concern on Elizabeth's face faded a bit. “What's wrong?”

“I just feel kind of crummy. Maybe something I ate. I'll just kick back this morning and I'll be fine.”

Elizabeth's eyes were the color of the sky but not nearly as sunny. “It seems to me we had a deal. You're not backing out now, are you?”

Lainie avoided meeting Elizabeth's gaze by taking a sip of coffee.
“Deal? No, I remember that you said you'd like me to go to church with you, but I never said I'd go. I sure don't remember any deal.”

“Well then, let me just remind you. When you came into this house, the one and only thing I asked of you was that you go to church with me on Sunday. And now you're trying to squirm out of our agreement. Is that all your word means to you? Why, I'm surprised at you.”

She turned back to the chicken she was frying, shifted a piece or two with the fork she was holding, then fastened her gaze back on Lainie.

Lainie looked at the plaque that read “Bless This Mess” hanging on the wall behind Elizabeth's head. She looked out the window. And she bent down and gave considerable attention to Sam, who was rubbing his chin against her chair. But the silence kept growing, and she finally had to look up. Elizabeth stood watching her with folded arms, her mouth set in a straight line and her blue eyes shooting sparks. Lainie lifted her chin and returned the gaze. She managed four seconds before she had to drop her eyes again.

“All right then, I'll go.” She snatched up her coffee cup and strode down the hall. “But don't think you're going to change me by making me go to church.”

Elizabeth's voice floated after her. “I don't need to change you, honey. That's not my job.”

Lainie slammed her door and leaned against it, considering her options. They came to two: packing her bag and leaving Elizabeth's, or getting dressed and going to church. Since she still had no place to go, she really had no choice. She yanked open a dresser drawer and began rifling through the contents.

“What am I supposed to wear to church? I don't even own any polyester.”

She held up a short, sleeveless T-shirt and smiled.

“Okay, Elizabeth, you win. But I don't think you're going to like it much.”

She was admiring the results in the mirror when a tap came on her door.

“Lainie? I'm sorry I got so put out. The last thing I want to do is start the Lord's Day with a tussle. Come on in and have breakfast and—”

Lainie threw the door open and stood back for effect. Elizabeth broke off in midsentence, and her eyes widened, though the smile never left her lips.

“Well. Don't you look . . . comfortable.”

Lainie turned and preened before the mirror. The denim shorts showed nearly every inch of her long legs, and between the low-slung waist and the cropped shirt, at least six inches of torso lay bare as well. Tattoos peeked over the waistband. She turned back to Elizabeth with a smile and swept past her to the kitchen.

“Thanks.”
Okay, church lady, let's see who comes down with the headache now. Something tells me we just may be staying home after all.

Lainie first questioned the wisdom of her ensemble an hour later when the pan of hot chicken she was holding touched her bare leg as Elizabeth's pickup bounced down the dirt driveway and turned onto the road.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Lainie. Just hold that chicken a little higher. It won't take a minute to get to church.”

Elizabeth waited for a semi to roar past before she swung the truck onto the main road through town. She sat on a pillow to see over the dashboard and had another pillow or two nestled at
her back so she could sit far enough forward to reach the pedals. Lainie braced her feet against the fire wall and tried to balance the hot pan over her lap.

“Why do you drive this thing? Wouldn't something smaller fit you better?”

Elizabeth laughed. “You know, that's exactly what I thought when I moved off the ranch. I couldn't wait to get me one of those little foreign jobs. But I guess I had been driving these things too long. I just felt like I was sitting on a roller skate at a tractor pull. Scared me to death.”

“The ranch where the painting came from?”

“That's the one. My husband and I raised cattle about fifteen miles east of here, but when my husband died, I thought it was time for me to move to town and let the young folks take over. My son, Joe Jr., runs the place now. Hold on to that chicken. We've got one more little bump here.” Elizabeth pulled into a row of pickup trucks parked in the shade of two old elm trees and switched off the engine. “Let's drop off this food, then I want you to meet Brother Parker before the service starts. He retired from a big church up in Albuquerque, but then we talked him into coming down here to God's country.”

Lainie slid from the cab and looked around. Except for a tiny lawn, the two elm trees, and one of the pickups parked next to the church, there was nothing green between them and the purply mountains on the horizon. Just miles and miles of scrubby brown vegetation. If this was God's country, Lainie figured she knew even less about him than she thought she did.

“Elizabeth! Lainie! Wait!” Lainie turned and saw Fayette and Matthew hurrying across the parking lot. On her hip Fayette held a toddler with a head of dark curls, and Matthew carried an identical little girl on his shoulders. His eyes widened as they swept Lainie from head to foot, and his face split in an appreciative grin.

“You look hot!”

His mother glared at him before turning back to Lainie. “Well, she'll probably be the only cool person here today. I wish I had the nerve to wear shorts. Good for you, Lainie.” She smiled, and Lainie tried to look as confident as she had felt in her own room.

“And here's Faith and Grace! What are you doing with Miss Fayette this morning?” Elizabeth patted the chubby leg of the little girl closest to her.

“Faith and Grace got a brand new baby brother last night, didn't you, girls? They spent the night with Patsy's mother, but first thing this morning she dropped them off and headed up to San Ramon to see that new grandbaby.”

Fayette and Elizabeth chatted about pounds and ounces and hours of labor and Matthew gawked at Lainie until the sound of singing poured from the church.

Elizabeth stopped in midsentence. “Heavens! Church has started and I still have to get rid of this chicken.”

“I'll take Lainie on in.” Matthew swung the toddler from his shoulders and handed her to his mother with a little too much enthusiasm.

“No you won't, but you can take Miss Elizabeth's food to the fellowship hall for her while I take Faith and Grace to the nursery. And I better see you in that sanctuary when I get there. With your hat off.”

Lainie returned Matthew's man-of-the-world leer with a drop-dead look of her own as she handed off the pan of fried chicken, then turned to follow Elizabeth up the wooden steps. The double doors stood open to catch any slight breeze, and as Elizabeth led the way through the vestibule into the church, Lainie felt every eye turn and follow their progress.

She knew the outfit had been a mistake, but she couldn't do
anything about it now. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and followed Elizabeth down the center aisle to the third row on the left and slid in beside her. If the sixty or so people in the sanctuary had nothing better to do than to stare at her, then let them stare.

When the singing stopped, everybody sat down, and the curly-haired lady in the blue flowered dress who had been leading the singing stepped off the platform and sat on the front row. The choir in the loft behind the pulpit sat down too. A white-haired lady smiled and wiggled her fingers at Lainie from the front row of the loft. She seemed familiar, as did the sober-looking man sitting behind her and slightly to her left. After a moment's reflection, Lainie thought she recognized Russ and Juanita from her first morning in the diner.

A tall, thin man wearing the only suit and tie in the room mounted the few steps and stood behind the pulpit. His eyes were warm and his smile was welcoming as he looked around the sanctuary. When he spoke, his booming voice filled every corner of the small church.

“This is the day that the Lord has made!”

All around Lainie people responded, “We will rejoice and be glad in it.”

He continued. “Good to see every one of you here in the Lord's house this fine morning. Elizabeth, I see you have a visitor. Would you like to introduce her?”

Elizabeth stood and turned around to face the rows of people sitting behind her. She held her hand firmly on Lainie's shoulder. “This is my friend Lainie Davis from California. She's staying with me for a while. I'm not going to ask her to stand up, but maybe she'll just give you a wave so you can see where she is.”

Lainie glanced over her shoulder and lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave. Elizabeth sat back down and leaned over to whisper, “I'll introduce you to some folks at the potluck.”

The service continued. There was more singing, wooden plates were passed up and down the rows, and then the curly-haired woman got up and faced the choir. She gestured with her hand, palm up, and they stood. When they began singing, Lainie was surprised at how good they were. She didn't much care for their choice of music, but for twelve people wearing tan bathrobes, they didn't sound half bad.

When they finished, the man in the suit got up and started preaching. Lainie had no idea what he was talking about and used the time to think about what she'd do when her money completely ran out. The three hundred dollars Manny paid her for her car wouldn't last forever, even in Last Chance. She thought of her backpack hidden behind the garment bags in her closet. Unbidden came the memory of those friends of Nick in her apartment talking about how much it was worth on the street. But she shoved that thought from her as soon as it surfaced. Whatever she did with it, it would never hurt anyone. She had seen too many lives destroyed that way.

Lainie's attention was drawn back to the service as the preacher closed his Bible and around her people shuffled to their feet. The pianist had slipped onto the bench and was playing softly, and everyone started singing again. The tune was haunting and wistful and reminded Lainie of something. She couldn't quite remember what it was, but it caused a fist-sized knot of sadness to settle in the pit of her stomach. She was glad when, after a few verses, the preacher raised his hand and the music stopped. With his hand still lifted, he looked out over the church and smiled his warm smile.

“And now, may the Lord bless you and keep you,” he said. “May the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

The pianist started playing again, something happier sounding,
and a buzz of conversation filled the room as people gathered their belongings and moved toward the aisles. Lainie stood where she was and looked around. Someone had claimed Elizabeth with a monologue that seemed to be about an upcoming circle meeting, whatever that was.

BOOK: Welcome to Last Chance
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