The Sugar Queen (4 page)

"No," Chloe said, as if surprised Josey would think that. "How do you know him?"

Josey finally brought out the money and handed it to Chloe. "He delivers my mail."

Chloe took the money, now staring at Josey. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I don't think so."

Chloe suddenly smiled. "Oh, I know! You're Cirrini, Josey Cirrini. There's a portrait of you and your father in the lobby of the ski lodge. I see it every time I go there."

Josey hadn't thought about that portrait in a long time. Her mother had insisted on having it commissioned, and had been vehement about it hanging in the lobby for everyone to see. It had immortalized her as a fat child, but Josey had loved sitting on her father's lap for hours while having it done. "I'd almost forgotten about that. I didn't know it still hung there."

"You know, now that I think about it, Adam did once mention he delivered the Cirrinis' mail."

"He did?"

"But he never said he knew you."

Embarrassed, Josey picked up the warm white bag. "He doesn't," she said, and turned to leave. She knocked a book she didn't know was there off the counter. She picked it up and looked at the cover.
Finding Forgiveness.
"I'm sorry. Is this your book?"

"Unfortunately." Chloe took the book. As Josey walked away, Chloe went to the back room, saying, "I said,
go away."

"And then Adam
walked in! I couldn't believe it! Apparently Chloe's boyfriend is his best friend and he's staying with him now. I think she and her boyfriend lived together and she kicked him out."

Josey was sitting on the floor in front of the closet, talking with animation. The white bag with the sandwich in it, long since cool because Josey had to leave it in the trunk of the car until she could sneak out and get it without her mother seeing, was sitting on her lap.

While Josey was out, Della Lee had obviously occupied herself by playing with the things Josey had brought from her house. She was wearing a child-sized tiara and all the old necklaces from the box, and had put a rhinestone-studded denim shirt over her T-shirt. She'd gone slaphappy with her makeup—her lips were bright glossy pink and her fingernails were each painted a different color.

"Who is Adam?" Della Lee asked, blowing on her fingernails.

"He's my mailman."

"Aha!" Della Lee looked up with a triumphant smile.
"He
was the reason you ran out of here so quickly the other day."

Josey felt like she'd been caught with a mouth full of jelly beans.

But Della Lee didn't seem to feel like making her squirm that day. "I always worried about Chloe being so wrapped up in Jake. She never got to know herself. You and me and Chloe," Della Lee said, flopping onto her back on the sleeping bag and pillow Josey had given her. She held her hands above her face to admire her fingernails. "We can't hold on to our hearts to save our lives.
You
even let yours go off in some man's mailbag."

"You know these people?" Josey asked.

"Not personally." Della Lee dropped her hands and stared up at Josey's clothes. "But I know Chloe is a good kid. She's . . . twenty-five, I think. I remember I was ten when you were born and twelve when she was born."

Josey looked at her oddly. "You remember when I was born?"

"Of course. I bet most people in town do. You were Marco Cirrini's
beloved only child."

"Oh." Della Lee hadn't made a move for the bag, so Josey proudly put it on the floor in front of her. "Long story short, here's your sandwich!"

Della Lee turned her head to look at the bag. "I ate some things from your closet while you were out." She lifted a corner of the sleeping bag to reveal some empty candy wrappers. "I didn't think you'd really do it. Oh, I mean, I appreciate it. You're being very nice to me in my time of need. But I already ate. That's what you wanted, right?
You
eat the sandwich. You know you want to. Get me another one tomorrow."

Josey eyed the bag. That would be selfish, wouldn't it? She admitted that she wanted the sandwich, but she'd gotten it for Della Lee. That wasn't the same as getting it for herself. She couldn't eat it. Could she? "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Della Lee said with a devilish smile. "Go on, eat. And tell me about seeing
Adam.
Tell me what everyone said. The more I know, the better I can help you."

Josey sighed and opened the bag.

When Chloe heard
the knock that evening, she muted the television with the remote and took the book that had appeared beside her and stuffed it under the couch cushions.

When she stood,
Finding Forgiveness
had appeared on the couch again.

She stuffed it under the cushions, more firmly this time. Books usually gave up after a while when she didn't want to read them. But not this one. "Behave," she told it.

She walked across the open living-room/dining-room area. The kitchen at the other end was separated only by an island counter. It was all very clean, masculine. No clutter. Just the way Jake liked it. She lost herself in him, in this. She
let
it happen.

She took a deep breath before she opened the door. She knew who it was. Adam had called earlier and said he was coming by. She waved him in. "His suitcases are under the bed."

Adam entered the apartment and waited while she closed the door. "How are you doing, Clo?" he asked as he unzipped his jacket.

"I'm great. Let's go to the bedroom and get this over with."

"I can't tell you how many women have said that to me."

Chloe had to smile. Everything about Adam made him seem carefree—his sense of humor, his naturally tan skin, his curly blond hair. He looked part surfer and part ski bum. And it was true, if there was an extreme outdoor sport, Adam had done it at least once. Up until three years ago, that is. After his accident, he said it was time to settle down. No more risks, no more travel, for him.

But Chloe always sensed he wasn't really happy here.

She followed him and watched from the bedroom doorway while he took the suitcases out and began to put Jake's clothes in them. She wished he could pack Jake's smell. She wished there was a way to put it in a bottle and stopper it. It was in the mattress, in the wallpaper, in the couch cushions. It was like a feral mark. This was his space. These were his things. It didn't feel like security as it once had, when she first moved in with him. It felt like gloating now. Like Jake saying,
Look at all I have.
You
need this.
You
need me.

"Josey Cirrini asked about you, after you left the shop today," Chloe said, because that was neutral territory. "She thought you and I were a couple. She seemed relieved that we weren't."

Adam stopped packing, giving Chloe the strangest

look.

"I take it this is a surprise to you?"

"She's a nice woman and I deliver her mail, that's all."

"She is nice. And I didn't realize she was so young," Chloe said. "Come on, I know you've noticed more than her mail."

"She smells like peppermint," he said, after giving it some thought.

"You
have
noticed."

But he didn't say anything else. It wasn't like their usual banter, when she would tease him about dating more. He disappeared into the attached bathroom and she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet.

"I'm going to lose you, aren't I?" she said when he came out of the bathroom with Jake's toiletries.

She liked Adam, but he was friends with Jake first. Jake had met him at the gym. Adam hadn't been in Bald Slope for very long at the time; it had only been a few months since his accident on Bald Slope Mountain, and Jake invited him to have drinks with him and Chloe. Everything around her had been Jake's first. The apartment was Jake's, a stylish red-brick place in the historic renovated firehouse downtown. It had been a gift to him from his parents when he graduated from law school. She had some furniture left from her great- grandparents' house, along with hundreds of boxes of books that had appeared over the years, in a small storage rental. She'd never asked to put her things here. She didn't know why now. She guessed she didn't think they would fit. And she had wanted to fit in Jake's life, wanted it so much she got lost in it.

Adam walked over to her and put his hands on her arms. He had to bend a little to make sure he met her eyes. "You're not losing anyone, least of all me. It was a one-time thing, three months ago. He was stupid. People do stupid things. I mean, you don't do stupid things. Asking him to leave wasn't stupid. I'm not saying
that ..."

She smiled at him again. "Adam?"

"Yes?"

"You're really bad at this."

He seemed relieved that she'd called him on it. "I know." He dropped his hands from her arms. "I guess I should be going." He went back to the bed and zipped up the suitcases, then he noticed a book on the nightstand. "Is this your book?" he asked as he picked it up.

She looked over at it, expecting it to be that damn book that had been following her all day.

But no.

This was a new book.
Old Love, New Direction.

"This is good, Clo." He held the book in the palm of his hand like a scale, as if the words had weight. "It's good that you have this."

Confused, Chloe leaned out of the room and looked over to
Finding Forgiveness,
back on top of the couch cushions in the living room.

Good Lord, it had called in reinforcements.

"I should go," Adam said, putting the book down. He slid the suitcases off the bed and she followed him to the front door. "Do you want me to tell Jake anything?"

She opened the door for him. "That I look happy?" "Clo . . ."

"No, I don't want you to tell him anything. Good night, Adam," she said, and closed the door behind him.

She whirled around.
Old Love, New Direction
had joined
Finding Forgiveness
on the couch, like they were waiting to have a talk with her. Great. She was being stalked by self-help books.

She stomped to the bathroom to take a shower. Books never appeared in the bathroom. Like cats, they hated water. She stood under the spray until the water turned cold. Just when she thought she had washed all thoughts of Jake out of her mind, at least enough to sleep, she opened the bathroom door and found the books, stacked neatly one on top of the other, on the floor in front of her.

"If I see you again tonight, I'm putting you both in the toilet," she said as she stepped over them and went to the bed to set her alarm.

When she turned around again, they were gone.

Sno Caps

The next day at work,
Chloe spent her downtime reading magazines from the periodical inventory that had come in that morning. She wanted distractions, any distractions. She wanted to forget about how quiet the apartment was last night, how out of place she felt in it alone. Unfortunately,
Finding Forgiveness
kept appearing by her on the counter, nudging her, reminding her. At least
Old Love,
New Direction
had decided to stay home, though it had poured out of her box of cereal that morning, clanging onto the bowl and causing Cheerios to fly everywhere. She had just knocked
Finding Forgiveness
off the counter again when she saw someone crossing the rotunda toward her.

She straightened as the woman approached. "It's you!" Chloe said, unreasonably glad to see her again.

Josey Cirrini stopped and turned around to see who Chloe was talking to. When she saw no one was there, she said, "Me?"

"Yes, you," Chloe said, laughing. "Another grilled to - mato and cheese to go?"

Josey walked up to the counter. "You remembered."

"I remember what everyone orders. I get that from my great-grandad." Chloe turned and put on a pair of disposable clear plastic gloves, then she started to assemble the sandwich. "He used to run this shop. He left it to me. I don't get too many orders for grilled tomato and cheese. There was this one woman who always ordered it, but I haven't seen her in a while."

"Oh?" she heard Josey say, as if that interested her.

Chloe shrugged and said, "A pretty woman, older, a little rough. Blond hair and lots of makeup. Every time I saw her, she was coming from court. Domestic disturbance. Every time. Except that one time she was here on solicitation." Chloe stopped and looked over her shoulder at Josey. "I'm not talking trash. She told me. She told Hank too." Chloe nudged her shoulder toward Hank at the security gate in front of the main doors. "She wasn't ashamed. That's just the way some people live."

As soon as the bread turned golden and the cheddar and Colby and Jack began to melt and sizzle onto the grill, Chloe scooped the sandwich up with a spatula and wrapped it in wax paper. When she turned, Josey had the money ready.

She was dressed that day in a long gray coat, its cloth- covered buttons secured all the way to the top, where a red cardigan peeked out from under the collar. It was something easy to overlook, but she was really very pretty. She had beautiful pale skin, which was a stark contrast to her dark eyes and hair, like black marble and snow. It was very dramatic, like she would be cool to the touch. But she smelled sweet, like candy. No, that wasn't it, Chloe thought. She smelled like
Christmas.
"Adam's right," Chloe said as she set the bag on the counter in front of Josey. "You smell like peppermint."

"Adam said I smelled like peppermint?" Josey said, her voice pitching slightly.

"Uh-huh. Last night when I talked to him."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'd say it was good," Chloe said, trying not to smile at how nervous that seemed to make Josey. It was sweet. She and Jake had never had that fluttery infatuation, that nervous
Does he like me?
feeling. From the beginning it had been like a cannonball, all that passion. There had never been time for a traditional courtship.

She took the money from Josey and rang up the purchase just as the elevator farthest from them opened and a wave of suits poured out. Court had recessed.

Chloe looked up and found him right away. It was as if thoughts of him had made him appear.

Jake's shoe was untied and he hadn't noticed. He had papers sticking out of his briefcase, which someone had just pointed out to him. He looked embarrassed. He didn't know how to handle this any better than she did, which was a strange thing to take comfort in.

Jake began to walk toward her shop. He had dark hair that, compared to Josey's black hair, was warm chocolate- cake brown. His eyes were light green, a striking shade she could make out even from across the rotunda. He was so intense. Did the other woman see that in him too? Had he focused on her like he was focusing on Chloe right now? Had she been helpless to resist? A single hard impulse hit her and she wanted to go to him. She wanted to leave Josey and the shop and everything else behind and run into his arms. He'd hug her and they would kiss and the water in the coffeemaker would start to boil and everything would go back to the way it was. Everything would fit in the too-tight way it did before, but that would be all right. Wasn't that better than her life falling off of her altogether?

But she stopped herself. That wouldn't make it right. You didn't forgive because it was the only choice you thought you had. That didn't make it forgiveness, that made it desperation. She'd always been too desperate about Jake.
Always.

And how could she forgive him when he wouldn't even tell her who he'd slept with?

"Excuse me," she said to Josey, starting to turn, to hide in the small storeroom.

"Are you okay?"

Chloe looked at him again. He was getting closer. "I'm just trying to avoid someone."

Josey turned to see who it was. "Jake Yardley?"

"You know him?"

"Sort of," Josey said, turning back around. Chloe wasn't surprised. As prosecutor, Jake had been on the local television news almost every night for the duration of the Beasley murder trial in Bald Slope this past summer. Murder in a small town is pervasive, growing like kudzu until it envelops everyone in its sensationalism. People would still come up to Jake on the street to talk about the case, wanting to know what went on behind the scenes at the trial, wanting assurances that Wade Beasley was behind bars for good.

"He cheated on me," she said, and it was the first time she'd said it out loud.

"Oh," Josey said.

Chloe hurried into the storeroom. After she'd dropped out of college when her great-grandparents fell ill, she'd had to sell the farmhouse and put them in a nursing home. She'd had nowhere to live, so she'd secretly moved into this storeroom and lived in it for almost six months. Every bit of money she'd made during that time went toward her great- grandparents' care. Hank was the only one to find out, and he let her get away with it. Her great-grandparents died within months of each other. Just weeks after her great-grandmother's death, she met Jake, and she clung to him. She'd lost almost everything, and there he was, offering her so much.

"Clo, please come out here," she heard him call.

"I don't think she wants to." Chloe cocked her head. That was Josey's voice.

"Chloe, if you don't come here, I'm coming back there." He was ignoring Josey.

She steeled herself for his presence. He could make her forget that it was desperation. He could make her forget everything. And this small room couldn't contain what they had when they were together. The temperature would rise. Ice would melt. Eggs would fry in their cartons. After it had happened a few times when they first met, she had insisted he stay away from her at work because she lost inventory when he was around.

A few moments passed.

"All right, here I come," he said.

"No," Josey said. "You're not going back there."

"Who
are
you?" Jake demanded in his lawyer voice, which made Chloe feel anxious for Josey. Josey was no match for him in lawyer mode.

But to Chloe's surprise, she heard Josey say with some exasperation, "I'm Josey Cirrini, Jake. I stole your piece of chocolate cake at your grandmother's Christmas party when I was six and made you cry."

"Josey!" Jake said, as if his memory had suddenly kicked in. "^Where is your mother? ^What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping out a friend."

"I know all of Clo's friends."

"Maybe you only thought you did," Josey said. A few moments of silence passed before Chloe heard, "He's gone."

She walked out sheepishly. She should be handling this better. "Thank you," Chloe said.

"I hope I didn't ..." Josey waved an arm in the direction Jake had obviously left. The movement revealed the watch on her wrist. When she looked at it, she said, "Oh no. I have to go."

"I'll walk you out," Chloe said, falling into step with Josey as she grabbed the sandwich bag and hurried into the rotunda. They reached the doors and walked out into the cool afternoon. The park in front of the courthouse was a flurry of last-minute activity before the kickoff to the Bald Is Beautiful festival that night. Leaves skittered across the grass on the breeze created as the canopies went up. The clouds were low in the sky, bright gray and full of sparkles. "Wait," Chloe said once they reached the courthouse steps, a little out of breath. Josey could really move. "Are you going to the festival tonight?"

Josey looked out over the park warily. "No. Are you?"

"I usually do. I mean, I always went with Jake. I'll go if you go." She met Josey's eyes. They were about the same height, and their eyes were the same shade of dark brown.

"Surely there are other people you'd rather go with?"

"They'd all grill me about Jake. I get the feeling you wouldn't."

"It's none of my business."

"See? You're perfect."

Josey gave a small laugh and shook her head. "I haven't been since I was little," she said. She looked down, confusion coming to her face. She bent and picked up a book that was lying on the steps. "Isn't this your book?"

Chloe sighed. "Oh, thanks."

"Didn't you just leave it on the counter?"

"Yes. I think I will go tonight. I didn't do anything without him. That's going to change. I'm going to do this."

Josey's eyes went from the book to Chloe's face. "Do you think you'll forgive him?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do yet." She took a few steps over to a large green trash receptacle and threw
Finding
Forgiveness
away. "Listen, I'll be at the stage around eight o'clock if you change your mind and want to come tonight."

"Here, eat this, quick,"
Josey said as she opened her closet door. She put the bag in front of Della Lee, who was sitting on the floor on the sleeping bag. She was still wearing the tiara and all the necklaces, but today she was wearing several of her shirts layered over her T-shirt, and it looked like she'd put a pair of jeans on over the pair she was already wearing. Josey wasn't quite sure what Della Lee was doing.

Maybe she was bored. Maybe she thought the only way she could take her things with her was if she was wearing
everything.

Not that she was making any noise about leaving. And considering what she had to go back to, that was probably a good thing. In fact, Della Lee seemed perfectly at home here, with no desire to even stand or walk around, at least during the day when Josey could see her. Josey, of all people, understood the appeal of living in there. If Della Lee wasn't in the closet, Josey would crawl in there right now. She would eat raspberry caramels and chocolate-covered cherries and read a romance novel.

Josey took off her long gray coat, then slipped out of her lucky red sweater. Was today really lucky? She didn't know how to feel exactly. Things were changing, in tiny ways, but enough to throw her off her normal course. First there was Della Lee. Then Chloe. And then Adam said she smelled like peppermint.

He'd
smelled
her.

"Why eat it quick?" Della Lee asked.

Josey walked over to the blue tufted chaise lounge and set her purse, sweater and coat on it. "I wanted you to eat it warm, so I put it in my purse when I brought in the groceries. But I think my mother smelled it on me." She turned around, trying to smooth the sides of her windblown hair.

"So what?" Della Lee said.

"So, I don't want her to find it here. I was late coming home. She was worried. And if on top of that she thinks I'm sneaking food in here . . . well, it would embarrass her. And I think I've embarrassed her enough as it is."

The truth was, she sneaked food in all the time, there was just never anyone else involved. She bought a lot of things at the grocery store every week, extra things on her own debit card so her mother wouldn't find out. There were coconut drops, Pixy Stix and several pretty bottles of orangeade in the trunk right now. She kept the things in the car trunk until her mother went to sleep at night, then she'd sneak them in. Helena knew about Josey going out to the car at night, but she seemed to think it was normal behavior and after a while she stopped offering to help her carry the things in. She only stuck her head out of her bedroom to make sure it was Josey and not some ghostly midnight mover.

"What have you done to embarrass her?" Della Lee asked. "It seems to me that you've given up all semblance of a normal life just for her."

Josey shook her head. "I was a terrible child."

"So what?" Della Lee said again.

"So, I owe her this. And she's my family, my only family."

Della Lee laughed. "That you know of."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Joke. It was a joke." She shook her head. "You need to stop this hero worship of your mother. She's not
that
great. And she doesn't give a flying fig about you. You did the same thing with your father."

"How do you know that?"

"The whole town knows that. You adored your father."

"Imagine that. I loved my father. I probably need therapy."

"Thank you for the sandwich, but I already ate. Here," Della Lee set the bag outside the closet, "you eat it."

Josey stared at the bag. Eating that sandwich would make her feel better. And it would make her feel worse. It was a familiar dilemma. She'd never experienced anything that was simply and entirely good for her. She wondered if such a thing even existed.

She sighed and walked over to Della Lee. She sat on the floor in front of the closet and opened the bag. "I talked with Chloe today. She remembered you, not by name, but that you always ordered this." She unwrapped the sandwich. "She said you were always coming from court. Domestic disturbance and solicitation." She took a bite, not looking at Della Lee. It was always easier after that first bite. No turning back. She had to eat the whole thing now.