Ledge Walkers Page 14

  Holly frantically thought and looked around the room. “Take her tea cups, Maggie. Quick! Get Earl!” After Earl had been moved out of reach, she said, “Okay, Kitterman, if you ever want to see Earl alive again, you'll let go of Kate."

  "Hol,” Laura interrupted, “that's a threat not a promise. You've turned into the hostage taker not the negotiator."

  "Oh, yeah,” she agreed, laughing. She paused to think. “Okay, Claudia, I promise to keep you warm if you let Kate go."

  As simple as that, Claudia raised both arms in surrender. I threw on my T-shirt, rolled over her, and landed on the floor in the sleeping bag's overhang. I scooted out, slipped into my sweatpants, and stood. In the very same instant, Holly landed behind Claudia on the couch and draped her arm over her. I swiftly bent to kiss them both on the forehead and then retreated through the back door.

  Laura had a lit cigarette waiting for me, and I might have inhaled its entirety with one breath. She put her hands on my shoulders and whispered, “She's okay. You're okay. Just let it be."

  Laura and I talked utter nonsense through a couple more cigarettes. I kept my back to the porch—afraid, I think.

  I understood at the very same time I had no clue. I knew intellectually that made no sense; it was one of those emotional things that made perfect sense. I knew I was not going anywhere; I knew she was not going anywhere.

  I vowed to trust that whatever we had to do, we'd get through.

  Eventually, the conversation on the porch became louder and freer. I figured it was safe to turn around, concluding that they had safely coaxed Claudia back into the mix. As I turned, however, I was taken back at the scene I beheld.

  Holly still reclined behind Claudia, but now Janice had entered the equation. She sat pretzel-legged in front of the couch, massaging Claudia's neck to a jumble of moans and groans. Holly stroked Claudia's hair. Alison massaged a horizontal Susan on the other side of the porch. Maggie sprawled next to her, knees up, using both hands to twirl Susan's hair between her fingers. Like a manic's EEG, conversations bounced wildly: nail polish, irises, tofu, shoes, whales, yoga, and the bitchy receptionist at the Y.

  I just stared, mouth agape. I swatted Laura on the arm, and she began trying to absorb the scene, as well.

  "What the hell is this?” she finally yelled. “I thought there was no sympathy for hangovers! If I induce a hangover, would I get my own personal masseuse, too?"

  "You already have one,” Holly replied with a wink and a smile that set into motion a quick round of goo-goo eyes.

  Then Alison asked, “Who's up for the next meeting? I think we should have massage for the entire weekend!"

  "And what do you propose we do about Laura and Holly?” an unusually relaxed Maggie asked.

  "Oh yeah,” Alison replied. “I didn't think about them."

  Neither Holly nor Laura appreciated being talked about as if they weren't in the room. Jaw dropping interrupted goo-goo eyes but only momentarily.

  "I know,” Janice piped in. “I'll put a little super glue in their oil. Tell them there's this cheek-to-cheek massage they'd really like. Butt to butt, we'll glue them together."

  Janice was fitting in quite nicely. I found myself scared for her.

  Holly flew from the couch, scrambled out the back door, and nearly toppled me over in the process. Balancing on the same wavelength, Holly and Laura stood butt to butt. Oblivious to all living things, they proceeded to determine exactly where backward arms could reach. It was not a pretty sight, but it was damn funny.

  "We could do it, hon,” Laura reassured her, turning around and pulling her in like the last puzzle piece.

  "Do youwant to do it, babe?"

  "Kate, is there a hose out there?” Maggie yelled. “Kris isn't here to stop them. Spray them down before it's too late."

  "I would, but I have a feeling they'd like it."

  "Is there anything theydon't like?"

  "Only one thing,” I said. I knew the danger in messing with the one true weakness, but unheeding, I pried and slid myself between them. I put a palm on each and pushed them apart. The distance was just enough that their reaching arms could not meet. “New club bylaw, ladies,” I announced. “No activity that requires a distance less than this."

  There was laughter, threats to quit, a request for a tape measure: downright obnoxiousness. It was the crescendo before the lull that would send them all on their way, back to the real world, away from the insanity that at times seemed like salvation itself.

  Urging Claudia to stay where she was, they all said their goodbyes to her on the couch. I went into the house with them, as they collected their belonging and headed out the door. I felt sad, but after several of them decided to irritate me by making the bellmen do hisding, dong, burp, spit, ding thing, I got over it quickly.Go!

  Go already!

  And then I lingered.

  I paced. I paced some more. It was stupid. I knew it was stupid, but I dawdled in the house. I had avoided Claudia since being extricated from the couch, and now I feared facing her.

  That fine, cutting edge of trust threatened to slice my feet when I hesitantly made my way back to the porch.

  I looked at her. She looked at me.

  "Are you okay?"

  She nodded.

  "Are we okay?"

  She nodded.

  "Am I okay?"

  She laughed. “Areyou?"

  "I think so.” I laughed.

  "Then come here.” She lifted the edge of the sleeping bag.

  I gave her a look that questioned my future liberty. That was a first.

  She smiled. “I promise to let you go—just not too far. I love you, and I just get scared of losing you. I'm sorry.”

  She raised the sleeping bag higher. “It's still safe in here. I promise."

  "Always?"

  "Always! Now get in here before I am forced tobe aggressive, be be aggressive!"

  My very own cheerleader! Imagine that.

  I slid into the bliss of the Symbiotic Slumber Chamber. It was indeed safe there.

  She held me and then ordered, “But don't get too cozy. We have half an hour. Then we go do a better job on Highway DWD and check on the orphaned Muse."

  Do-gooders!

  I knew I could do no gooder than this.

  Note to self: Put Chapter 2 in the “McCallister” file. May be good for getting a crime-scene scoop at a later date.