The Lake

“How’s Warren?” Leigh interrupted, a little too quickly. Deana closed her lips. Maybe now wasn’t the time to say anything about Mace.

“He’s okay.” She pictured the fag-hag and her band of trolls, tucked away in the twilight zone. Best keep them under wraps, too. Mom doesn’t look like she can take any more shocks.

She led Leigh to the living room. “Guess you could use a drink,” she said, going over to the wet bar and decanting a cognac into a balloon glass. “Anyway,” she said, rapidly changing the subject. “How’re things at the office?”

“Er…I didn’t go today, hon.”

“No?”

“No. Something came up.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Deana, better grab yourself a drink, too. There’s something I should tell you.”

Brriinngg…Brriinngg…

Leigh’s heart lurched.

“The phone, Mom,” Deana reminded her gently. “Shall I get it?”

“No, dear. It’s probably for me.”

It was.

Mattie.

“We got Nelson, Leigh. He’s in a bad way. Something terminal, I guess. But he’ll be looked after, where he’s going. Don’t you worry about him. Thing is, looks like he’s still harboring some kinda grudge. Swears he’s gonna get you—when he comes out. Which he won’t, of course. Come out, I mean.”

“Thanks for that, Mattie,” Leigh said. She gave an uneasy laugh. “Makes me feel a whole lot better. I don’t think.”

“Nelson’s going noplace, Leigh. Trust me—and you can take that to the bank. He’s real sick, and he’s behind locked doors. So, no chance he’ll bother you or Deana, ever again.” Mattie hesitated, then asked, “You okay? Musta been quite a shock…”

“Yeah. Right.” A pause. “And Mace?”

“He’s gone, Leigh. Vacated his apartment. Skedaddled. Vamoosed.”

“Oh my God…”

“Keep your doors locked, Leigh.” Mattie spoke quietly. Leigh, catching the urgency in her voice, felt a little faint. Mattie was asking, “Has he got a key to your place?”

Leigh’s heart missed a beat.

“Yes…No. I don’t know. I never gave him one. But he knows where I keep a spare.”

Mattie’s silence spoke volumes.

“Maybe you should have a minder,” she said. “I’ll get somebody over there. Whoever it is, I’ll bring them over myself, so when I call, you’ll know it’s okay.”

“Right.” Leigh shivered, bringing a hand to her throat. “This is getting worse, Mattie.”

“It will do. Until we nail Mace. And doing that won’t be easy. He’s one slippery chick.”

“You’re not kidding,” Leigh murmured, then said, “Okay, Mattie. See you soon.”

“That Mattie?”

Leigh nodded. Hugging herself, leaning against the door frame, going over the conversation. Deana studied her, frowned, and said, “Mom, you look awful.”

Leigh managed a bright smile. “Gee, thanks, honey. That’s all I need to know.”

“Here, take a sip of this.” Deana handed the glass of cognac to her mother. “You look as if you need it.”

“Thanks.” Leigh took a swig and winced. “How people can drink this stuff, I’ll never know.”

“Mom. You had something to tell me…What is it?” Leigh sighed. She wasn’t feeling up to repeating the whole thing over again.

“It’s a long story, honey.”

Here we go again: “Here lies Leigh West. Hers was a mighty long story…”

She sighed, and felt sick, going over what happened today. But Deana has to know. Best get it over with now…

Easing into the sofa, she took a sip of cognac and shuddered. At the other end, Deana faced her, her legs drawn up, chin resting on her knees. Her glass lay untouched on the table.

An uneasy silence hung on the air.

“Honey,” Leigh began in a quiet voice. “You’ve always wanted to know more about Charlie, your father. Well, today I learned the truth of the matter—straight from the horse’s mouth. Or, put another way, straight from the pen of Edith Payne, Charlie’s mother.”

Wide-eyed, Deana stared at Leigh. “And?”

“When I was your age, I was a bit of a rebel. Mom and Dad packed me off to Aunt Jenny and Uncle Mike’s in Milwaukee. It was there I met your father…”

Leigh’s hand reached out to touch Deana’s. She gave a hesitant smile.

At last, the tale came tumbling out. All of it. No holds barred. Leigh hoped to God Deana could deal with it. She watched her daughter’s face, afraid she’d see disgust, bewilderment, even contempt. Afraid things between them might never be the same again.

But what Leigh saw was Deana growing up before her eyes. She’d been listening intently, a small frown creasing her brow as she absorbed the details.

“And you never once suspected that Mace was Charlie’s brother?”

“Never. Not in a million years would I think such a thing could be true. Until…”

“Until what?”

“Until I saw Mace’s body last night.” She felt a little awkward talking to Deana like this, but as she’d gotten this far, she felt she had to carry on. “You know, like he’s a blond? Well, he had black hair. Pubic hair and stuff? He was a different person. He has a tan, but with the black hair, his bronze body looked so natural…Like he was born with it—nothing to do with the sun.”

She paused, realizing Deana would spot the link.

She did.