Light the Hidden Things (21 page)

"Are you even listening to us?" Martha's peevish tone snapped Lila into the present. And irritated her. There was no question that Martha's plan was sweet. Possibly even had a hint of romance in it. Nevertheless, it was irrational. She told Martha so. "I have a life. So does Crow. So do you and Pastor Richards. George and Herman don't even know their names are flying around in here. We've stepped outside our bounds."

For a moment Martha's jaw was set. Then she sagged, repentant. She levered herself off the sofa and walked to the twin chairs facing the fireplace. A hand on each, her back to the others, she said, "I know I'm a busybody. I don't care. I think most of the time it's a good thing. I guess you're right, though; sometimes I get carried away." She turned, her fingers trailing across the leather. "I have to make amends. I'm asking all of you to dinner tonight. I'll call George and Louise, Herman and Doris."

Garza protested he should catch an early ferry. The Pastor and Lila both denied the need and objected to the extravagance. Martha was insistent. The Pastor was the first to surrender. "All right, all right; I'll take you up on it. As Oscar Wilde said, 'I can resist anything but temptation.'"

Martha smirked. "Anyone who watched you bolt one of my Reuben sandwiches would know that." Then, to Garza, she said, "We'll eat early. You'll have to eat somewhere; it's a long trip back to Clallam Bay. My food's better than anywhere you'll stop. So you'll catch a later ferry. I don't see a wedding ring. You do your own cooking?"

A bit dazed, Garza nodded. So did Martha, with far more vigor. "That settles it. You'll join us. We're having fresh wild-caught salmon. It'll knock your socks off. Andy, Lila - six o'clock, okay?

They looked at each other, exchanged helpless shrugs. Lila said, "See you at six."

Martha, back in form, eyes twinkling, gave Lila a quick hug and sped off. Garza hopped up and bounced out behind her like a large dinghy dragged along by a small yacht. The Pastor gave Lila a brief hug before leaving. Lila stood on the porch with Zasu, watching them go. The silence they left behind pressed against her. Normally she welcomed the quiet, the way it gave her thoughts freedom to wander. It was different this time. There was no freedom. Only an emptiness whispering of dangerous paths to uncertain destinations.

Estelle poured Martha's coffee last. Martha raised it high. Tapping her water glass with a spoon, she quieted the gentle hubbub among the seven people at the table and offered a toast. "Here's to our plan, then, and such good friends and good people."

The expressions of those looking back at her suggested dazed survivors rather than co-conspirators. Smiles tended to wobble. Tiny frown lines webbed foreheads. Murmured response had the sound of small animals scurrying.

Coffee was sipped. Cups clinked back onto saucers. Conversation resumed. Herman told George, "I suppose I can help Lila some. I can at least teach her and this Crow fellow which end of the hammer to hang onto. You said she's done a world of work already. It really looks decent?"

George put on a brave face. "Better than decent. I'm not worried about her - not as a worker. But if she can't get a loan..." He shrugged, then, "The problem's getting Crow over this concussion thing. Martha said keep him busy, but not too busy. Easier said than done. She's right, though; we can do it. Maybe he'll stay in Lupine long enough to be a voter. I'd bet he's a man lives up to obligations, you know?"

Pastor Richards leaned closer to Garza. He muffled his voice with his hand. "Did you hear an unusually loud noise during dinner? Something ran over me tonight. Could have been a truck."

Garza whispered back. "You guys actually live in the same town with her?"

The Pastor said, "The Lord never gives us a heavier burden than we can carry, son. Between you and me, though, Martha's pretty close to the weight limit."

Martha's voice rose again. "You're sure it's okay to use the church van tomorrow, Andy?"

"There's just Herman and me; my car'll do. We'll be driving Crow's pickup back - maybe. Plenty of room."

Sternly, Martha said, "He'll come. Do I have to lecture you about faith?"

In the midst of the group's chuckling Lila said, "Let's be sure everyone understands the only reason I'm agreeing to let Crow stay on my property is because everyone's promised to visit him."

Martha said, "Of course we do, dear. You'll see. We'll all pitch in. He'll grumble, but he knows he needs help. He'll welcome it."

Lila said, "We don't know that. That's why I'm going with the Pastor." To the surprised Pastor she said, "He has to know the rules."

Garza was already objecting. "I've said all evening you should all save yourself a trip. You're right about him needing help, but Crow's going to chew up this idea and spit it out."

Martha said, "Hector, this isn't about who's right. It's about
what's
right." She turned her attention to Lila. "We know Crow's going to be difficult. We all agreed Pastor Richards is the best person to approach him. Herman'll be there with him. There's no need for you to take time away from your work."

Lila said, "I'm going." To Garza, she added, "Please don't be offended, but I have to talk to your Doctor Newton. If I'm going to be living on the same property as a man with serious issues, I need serious reassurances to counter that. That's only fair, isn't it? I'm not afraid; I'm really not. I'm not gullible, either."

"I'm not offended. I think I understand Crow better, but Doc's the guy who knows all the details. Personally, I think Crow will listen to you. He's got a soft streak he doesn't show much. Maybe that'll help you help him."

An unfortunate warmth suddenly touched Lila's cheeks. Then she saw Martha's gaze sweeping toward her, a tsunami of discovery. When it touched the accursed warm area it seemed to pause before passing on. The idea - however farfetched - that the blush had caught Martha's attention set off more embarrassment, more heat, more confusion. Lila locked her elbows to keep her hands at her sides.

Where'd that come from? And why? I don't give a whoop about Crow. Not personally, not that way. Everyone knows that. Oh, please - don't they?

They're not staring. Not even Martha. No one noticed. Not really.

Martha. She looked again.

It's warm in here. That's all.

This is just too ridiculous.

Martha's smile was pure cane syrup. She said, "Lila can be very persuasive. Ask George: She not only talked him into selling her a saw he didn't want her to have, but after she did it, he threw in lessons."

There was general laughter and George said, "Can't have my customers making a mess."

Herman said, "I agree with Hector. If Crow needs persuading, we should send the Pastor and Lila. I enjoyed meeting him; I'm afraid I did most of the talking, though."

Beside him, his wife said, "We knew that, dear."

A good tactician will capitalize on the unexpected. Martha raised her coffee cup again. "Herman, you and Hector and Lila are absolutely right. Of course, Lila and Andy are our 'A Team.'" The group joined in the toast.

A half-hour or so later Lila stood arm-in-arm with Martha and watched the last of the party leave. Herman and Doris's car hardly cleared the curb before Martha's troubled attitude broke free. "I'm worried about this trip, dear. Crow could misunderstand your motives. Things could get complicated. Everyone knows Van's very interested in you and everyone also knows you haven't exactly poked him in the eye with a sharp stick. We don't need any false impressions messing up any lives. Especially yours."

Lisa laughed. "I don't have time to worry about a relationship. Most certainly not with that man. I've barely known him a couple of hours. One problem, he's gone."

"I'll remind you of that if I have to. Remember what Andy Richards said when he finally saw I was right about trying to help Crow? 'Let all your things be done with charity.' That's the problem for women, though; sometimes we give too much. If we give until we destroy the giver, everyone ends up with nothing."

"There's no charity. Please, don't say that. Even if he lets us help, he'll be out of here as soon as he thinks he's good to go. And while I'm being honest, I think this whole idea's a crock. I'll do my best, but just so you know."

Martha squeezed Lila's arm. "Trust me; you'll look back on this and be glad you did it."

"You. You're an incurable busybody and so goodhearted you bring out the best in the rest of us. We must all be nuts, because we love you."

Martha's wave was both goodnight and pleased embarrassment.

Later, after parking beside her building, Lila stretched, taking a deep breath, marveling how the night air differed from that of daytime. Daylight's smells brought to mind sunshine and color and revelation. On the night's chill came hints of secrets, doled out bit by bit. Heavier scents, freighted with subtleties and uncertainty.

Her thoughts wandered to considering where Crow's Airstream should be parked. By the campsites, of course. He liked to be outdoors - he'd probably enjoy cooking at one of the fire pits. It surprised her that she looked forward to seeing him working there, shadowy, flowing in and out of ever-shifting glow.

Appropriate. A man who needed to be held, but a man as impossible to hold as the flames.

She hurried onto the porch. If she ever said anything like that out loud, every tongue in Lupine would be inventing stories about the nightly orgy at Bake's old place. Martha's ridiculous fears would be realized - at the sound volume of a rock concert.

The screen door squealed injured innocence when she shoved it aside. Zasu welcomed her home with the usual circular yapping. Lila scooped her up, savoring the uncomplicated love. In the living room, not wanting to break the softness of the night, she put Zasu down to fumble matches and an emergency candle out of a desk drawer.

She told the dog, "Sometimes we just have to let go and live large, right? Let's hear it for heedless extravagance." Shielding the flame, she walked to the hearth and stood the candle on the stone slab. In the velvet-soft glow the chairs had their own rich warmth. Lila remembered the look on Martha's face when she spoke of the room's lingering aura of love. "When I was a little girl I always felt the love in here. Why can she still feel it right away and I have to make myself think about it before I get a tiny hint? What's wrong with me?"

Maybe the thing with Martha and the room was just romantic nonsense. Bake and Aunt Lila loved each other, of course, but they spent their lives harnessed together like draft horses, pulling hard every day just to get by. Their love took reality into account; they shared it and it bound them in a comfortable whole.

Maybe that was the real problem - getting confused about the difference between reality and dreaming. Wandering around in candlelight poking at feelings and auras and stuff might warm the heart but it didn't do much about handling the real world.

Reality mocked dreams that weren't possible.

She sagged against Aunt Lila's chair.

Crow thought his reality ignored dreams. In truth, though, his life was a batch of romantic foolishness. Outrunning problems; that was all he was doing.

Van was a man who knew the difference between dreams and goals.

Unconsciously, she smiled faintly. His mule-stubbornness was kind of endearing. It wasn't as if he was unreasonable. When this new loan came through and he saw how much she could accomplish, he'd be big enough to agree she'd been right all along. He knew how to be part of a team. Van had absolutely nothing in common with Uncle Bake and Aunt Lila, but they'd understand each other.

They'd never understand Crow.

Searching now, Lila straightened and turned her back on the chairs. She spoke aloud, needing to hear a voice. "Are you still here, little-Lila-that-was? The way Bake and Aunt Lila are still here? Would I even know you? Would I take you in my arms? Could you love me back? Could you be my wise child, telling me to never forget love? Aunt Lila never said much about love, did she? For her, it just was. Like silly, clever Martha." Her throat burned, made it difficult to speak. She forced words, dreading silence more than pain. "Oh, Lila-that-was, why didn't you learn better about love? Help me learn now. Help me find what Aunt Lila had."

From far away a coyote's wail shattered Lila's introspection. She called Zasu to her and picked her up again. She said, "Some good company I am, huh? Even the darned coyotes sound sad to me tonight. How about a nightcap for both of us? A touch of perspective-corrective; what d'you think?"

Zasu's tongue was quicker than Lila's reflexes, so she got her cheek licked. She said, "I'll take that as a yes," on her way to the kitchen.

Shortly afterward, sitting in Aunt Lila's chair in front of the fireplace, Lila finished her tea. Zasu's saucer of milk was long gone; she dozed at Lila's feet. The fluttering candle signaled an approaching end. Gathering Zasu's saucer and snapping her fingers for the dog to come, Lila returned to the brightly lit kitchen. She left their dishes in the sink with a cool "So what?" look.

She flicked off the lights. The faint touch of the dying candlelight drew her back into the living room. Snuffing it, she put the stub safely in the fireplace. The moon had considerately moved and now poured through the windows

As she turned to go to bed, she thought again of Crow and tomorrow's confrontation.