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I called Alicia, who already knew, and was beside herself with glee, for her, for Russ and Michael, and for me.
I called Russ, who also already knew and was relieved and happy, but a little worried about me.
I called Michael, who further already knew, and said, “Maybe now we can stop living under your shit.”
Fun facts: Russ had gone on to star in two long-ish running sitcoms and a two-season, one-hour dramatic comedy that didn’t have a long life but was rife with critical acclaim and still had fans demanding its return.
Alicia had moved to film and had done a slew of successful romantic comedies and was still doing them, perhaps not to the same box office, but it wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
Michael had two failed sitcoms, did so many pilots that weren’t picked up we’d lost count, and a short guest-starring stint on a political drama that earned him a Golden Globe and led him to believe he could be a dramatic actor, to unimpressive results.
I put Michael out of my mind, nothing was going to mess with my good mood that day.
I then talked to my two jubilant girls, ignored the calls and texts of my relieved exes, briefed a couple of friends who I knew would be worried, and texted Celeste with You up for an adventure after school?
To which I received, YES!!!!!
Which brought us to now.
Standing wearing cute sweaters and corduroy pants, scarves wrapped around our necks, both of us with fabulous knit caps over our hair, looking autumnal fabulous as we perused what was on offer in the huge crates outside the grocery store.
In other words, we were selecting pumpkins.
She held up a fugly, messed up one. “This is so Jace.”
She was so right.
“Toss it in.”
She put it in our cart.
I located a massive one. “Your dad?”
“Totes.”
I put it in the cart.
She found an even fuglier, messed up one for Jess, and we picked out ones for each other (she found one that was sheer pumpkin perfection for me, I found one that was even more perfect for her, and we both giggled about this).
Celeste had commandeered the cart and we were going to roll through the store to get what we needed for dinner, when I heard, “Ms. Larue?”
I turned.
And looked right into the face of Audrey Pulaski.
Twenty-One
Aromacobana
“I…sorry, I thought it was you,” Audrey said.
Celeste came up so close to my side, her arm was pressed to mine.
“Hello,” I said gently to Audrey.
She took a step toward us, glanced at Celeste and said, “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mrs. Pulaski.”
At her reply, I almost looked down at Celeste because her tone wasn’t her usual shy or warm and quiet, it was kind of cold and definitely remote.
Interesting.
“You and Will have fun last night?” she asked, her tone fake cheery and painful to hear.
“A little,” Celeste allowed.
“Good,” Audrey muttered. “I wanted to…” She looked in our cart and paled.
My heart stuttered as there were probably no jack-o’-lanterns at the Pulaski residence this year.
She pulled herself together and returned her attention to me.
“I wanted to thank you. For what you did. Offering those rewards. That was very kind.”
“Don’t.” I was still going gently. “Really.” I couldn’t say it was my pleasure. So I said, “Anyone with my resources would do the same.”
“I’m not sure they would,” she replied.
I had no answer to that, so I gave her a careful smile.
Another small step toward us, and her head tipped a little, but the movement was strange, like a bird’s.
“Do you…well, do you have any idea why Leland didn’t announce your offer?”
Goddamned Dern.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t,” I told her.
She turned to Celeste.
I shifted my arm so it was around her.
Audrey did not miss this, and she winced.
God, this was torture.
It was plain to see her puzzle was broken and dark, re-forming even as she stood there, and it was one of those three-dimensional ones.
Dimension one: before Alice, and how Audrey was now plagued with thoughts, wondering if she should have done what she (allegedly) did to trap Dale by making Alice.
Dimension two: those now hazy, and getting terrifyingly hazier, days of the time with Alice and having everything she thought she wanted, though, even as she denied it, she knew there was a pall over that. A pall she’d lived with. A pall that might now bite her spectacularly in the ass. Last, a pall that had hung over her daughter her whole life.
Dimension three: the now, knowing she birthed a child who ended in a way so unimaginable, it shook a cocky, sharp, strong, intelligent young man to the point he was questioning his ability to control his actions, and in a very real way he feared he might commit murder himself as retribution. But it was Audrey’s actions (in Audrey’s mind, this was not the actual case) that led Alice on a collision course from birth to devastating death at the age of eight at the hands of a madman.
