Invisible, as Music Page 11

  “Well, how about we just concentrate on getting to be better friends. Nothing like a road trip for learning all of your deep, dark secrets.”

  Tamara’s eyes got big.

  “Like, what’s your favorite cookie?”

  Tamara stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Cookie.”

  “Yes.” Ryn nodded toward a bakery. “Must have cookies.”

  It worked. Tamara laughed, and the tension dissipated.

  A few minutes later, fortified with a bag of cookies—chocolate macadamia for Tamara and oatmeal with chocolate chips for Ryn—they continued exploring Cortland.

  She learned that Tamara didn’t mind being called Tam, “but never Tammy! My brother sang that stupid song from that stupid movie so many times.”

  Ryn listened to Tam talk about growing up with an older brother who teased her something awful, but who also taught her to throw a baseball and play a tough game of one-on-one—both of which got her on her high school softball and basketball teams and led to a basketball scholarship. With her parents divorced, and her mom working long hours, she and her brother were close, despite the teasing.

  They’d wandered into a clothing store, where Tam was sorting through the sale rack.

  “Wait, you’re at St. Aloysius on a basketball scholarship?” Ryn asked.

  Tamara flushed again. “No. I went to SUNY Syracuse on a basketball scholarship, until I hurt my knee my sophomore year. I was never first-string material, so they cut me. I was looking for something else to… That’s when I met some of the sisters. I went to their motherhouse a few times, and decided to become an aspirant. They’re helping with my tuition now.”

  They left that shop and continued along the street. Ryn wanted to ask more about the whole nun thing, like what in the world would prompt someone to make that choice, but she couldn’t think of how to phrase it so it didn’t sound like a challenge.

  “What about your family?” Tamara asked.

  Ryn sighed. “My family is great. I’m just realizing how much I miss them. I want to hear how my sister is doing at WVU, and I wish I could see my brothers play basketball. It’s their junior year, and I may not get to see them play again.”

  They looked for a place to eat and entered one nice-looking restaurant, but as they headed toward a table, Ryn grabbed Tamara’s arm. There, in a back corner, Bradley Geary was seated with… shit. Vanessa.

  “Not here,” she muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” Tam asked, following her outside.

  “Nothing. Let’s find someplace quieter.”

  They found a little sandwich shop on a side street. Ryn’s mind was still seething over Geary taking advantage of Vanessa. They placed their orders and took their meals to a table, but she was only half paying attention when Tamara asked in a low voice, “Does your family know? You know, about you?”

  Ryn held up a finger as she chewed and swallowed her bite of sandwich. “We haven’t had a formal conversation, but they met my—” She suddenly wasn’t sure what to call Ashley. “My girlfriend. I mean, I didn’t introduce her that way, but my mom’s pretty smart, even if my dad’s head is in the clouds—or with his birds—most of the time.”

  Tam shook her head. “My mom would disown me.” She seemed to have suddenly realized what she’d said. “I mean… if I was, you know…”

  Ryn decided it was time to steer the conversation to other topics. They wandered around Cortland for another hour or so. Ryn found the Cortland SUNY campus, pretending she was just curious. Truth be told, she was already making contingency plans for where she’d apply if she had to leave Bluemont. Seeing Geary today had only reinforced for her that staying at St. Aloysius might not be an option.

  Back in the car, she let Tamara pick more music for the ride home to Bluemont. A couple of times, she felt Tam watching her, but if she was that closeted—and planning to be a nun, Ryn reminded herself—then this wasn’t going anywhere.

  Still, it was nice to have a new friend. Just a friend, she told herself sternly.

  Chapter 8

  Unlike most weeks, when Henrietta tried to ignore Bonnie’s chatter as she cleaned, this week, she listened acutely, alert for any mention of the college. She knew Bonnie and Beverly talked nearly every day. Sure enough…

  “And that Professor Geary,” Bonnie said as she ran a dust cloth over the living room furniture. “What he and Dr. Talbert pulled against poor Meryn. Beverly is ready to spit nails, she’s that angry.”

  As this was the first day classes were back in session after the fall break, it was also Meryn’s first day having to face those two.

  “Yes, she was quite upset on Friday.”

  Bonnie stopped dusting and stared. “She told you?”

  “Of course.” Henrietta remembered how Meryn had burst into tears. “I don’t think that girl could hide her emotions if her life depended on it. We had a picnic down at the pond and talked.”

  Bonnie’s mouth actually hung open. “You. Had a picnic. And talked.”

  Henrietta couldn’t help a smile. “Stop it. I do talk to people sometimes, you know.”

  Bonnie closed her mouth. “Of course you do, Miss Cochran.”

  “As you’ve been with me for twelve years now, Bonnie, don’t you think it’s time you called me Henrietta?”

  “If you wish, Miss Cochran. I mean, Henrietta.” Bonnie looked a little startled, but she was humming to herself as she resumed dusting.

  As per the usual routine, Henrietta sat at the desk to pay the bills and balance the checkbook while Bonnie ran the vacuum in the bedrooms. The telephone trilled. Bonnie must have heard because the vacuum went quiet.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Henrietta Cochran?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

  “Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”

  “This is June Fleming. I’m Meryn’s mother.”

  Henrietta paused, not sure how to respond. Was the woman calling because the girl had complained about something Henrietta had done? “What can I do for you, Mrs. Fleming?”

  Bonnie wandered out into the hallway where she could listen to Henrietta’s end of the conversation.

  “Well, I hope you won’t think this is too bold of me, or an imposition, but Ryn’s birthday is November 23rd, the day before Thanksgiving this year, so we were thinking about coming up there to celebrate.”

  “Coming here. The entire family?”

  “Oh, no!” Mrs. Fleming must have heard the panic in Henrietta’s voice. “I mean, yes, all of us coming up there, but we’ll stay at a local hotel. What I wanted to ask you is, would you mind if we brought Thanksgiving dinner to you, there? We’ll bring everything, and I’ll do all of the cooking. You won’t have to do a thing. Meryn speaks so highly of you. It would be nice for all of us to be together, don’t you think?”

  Bonnie must have heard every word. She was mouthing something and flapping her hands.

  “Just a moment,” Henrietta said, putting her hand over the mouthpiece. “What?”

  “Don’t you dare say no.” Bonnie placed her fists on her hips. “That girl should have her family with her for her birthday. And you don’t need to spend another Thanksgiving alone. I’ll make the pies.”

  “Ah,” Henrietta stammered into the phone. “That would be lovely. And if you will do the cooking, I’ll have the food delivered.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, Miss Cochran. Don’t tell Meryn about this. We’ll surprise her, okay?”

  “Certainly.”

  Henrietta hung up, and Bonnie beamed.

  “I’ll get out the leaves for the dining table. They haven’t been used in ages and ages. They’ll need a good polishing. And the extra china. I’ll make sure it’s all washed and ready to use.”

  She reached for a pad and pencil, making herself a list as she talked. “See? Things are changing around here.” Bonnie went back to her vacuuming, leaving Henrietta to stew.

  Things certainly were changing. Her housekeeper was now telling her what to do, and her live-in�
��s entire family was about to descend on her nice, quiet Thanksgiving, usually spent with a take-out meal from the club.

  Usually? When was the last time you did anything other than spend the day alone?

  Bonnie always invited her, and Henrietta always said no. Some of her other friends had invited her to their homes over the years, but after one or two awkward Thanksgivings many years ago at houses with ten porch steps to enter or gregarious dogs wanting to knock her down, she’d declined the invitations until, these days, no more came.

  Her entire day would be disrupted by this horde. She huffed in exasperation as she turned back to her checkbook.

  After a few minutes, she found herself wondering what Meryn would like for her birthday.

  Without having said a word, the battle lines were drawn. Beverly and Meryn had their afternoon tea in Meryn’s office, leaving the men to wonder what they were talking about behind the firmly closed door.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Ryn fretted.

  “I never take the breaks I’m supposed to get,” Beverly said. “And I get more done in the hours I work than three other people. As they’ll find out when I do retire.”

  She sat back, sipping her tea with a satisfied smile. “That’s a very useful tool to hold over them. Just knowing I can walk away at any time. And your office smells so much nicer than mine.”

  “It’s the potpourri,” Ryn said, poking a finger into a bowl of cinnamon, dried apple slices, cloves, and who knew what else. “It smells like autumn.”

  Beverly raised her arm and sniffed at her sleeve. “I am sick and tired of going home smelling like a cigarette butt.”

  “I’m beginning to think I’ve been a bad influence on you.”

  Beverly’s bespectacled eyes glinted over the rim of her mug. “Perhaps you have, Professor.”

  Ryn had taken Henrietta’s advice and forced herself to smile when she walked into Rayburn Hall the Wednesday after fall break.

  “Hello,” she’d said to Dr. Talbert on her way to her first lecture. “Had a good break?”

  She could feel his gaze boring into her back as she chuckled to herself.

  As for Geary, she could barely tolerate even hearing his voice, much less making herself interact with him, but she glued another benign smile on her face whenever she did run into him. She kept an eye out for Vanessa, determined to at least have a talk with her. On such a small campus, how was it possible not to see that girl?

  She did see Francine and Roberta, who gave her a big wave on their way to a class. It was kind of funny to see them back in dresses and veils now that she’d seen them hanging out at their house in jeans and sweatshirts.

  When Friday arrived without her having encountered Vanessa, Ryn made up her mind. She closed her office and walked to Mrs. Middleston’s. Now that she didn’t live here, she didn’t feel comfortable just walking in and going up to Vanessa’s room, so she knocked.

  Mrs. Middleston’s expression soured when she opened the door and saw who was there. “I told you I most likely wouldn’t have a room for you when it didn’t work out with Henrietta Cochran, and I don’t, so—”

  “I’m not here looking for a room,” Ryn cut in. “I wanted to visit with Vanessa. Is she here?”

  “How should I know? I’m not the keeper of every girl who rents a room from me.”

  Ryn was fairly certain Mrs. Middleston always knew precisely who was and wasn’t in the house at any given moment, but she didn’t argue. “May I go up and see?”

  “I suppose so.” Mrs. Middleston shuffled back. “And if she is, you talk some sense into that girl. She’s missed curfew three times now.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Ryn ascended to her old room on the third floor. The temperature was much more comfortable now than it had been. When she got to the landing, the door was shut. She knocked and listened.

  “Vanessa? It’s Ryn.”

  The door flew open, and Vanessa flung herself into Ryn’s arms.

  “I’ve missed you so much!”

  Ryn sputtered, her mouth blocked by mounds of blonde curls. She wiped the hair out of her face and said, “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Vanessa released her and dragged her into the room, closing the door behind them. “Don’t sit there!” she exclaimed when Ryn dropped her backpack to the floor and started to sit on her old bed. Vanessa pulled Ryn over to her bed. “My new roommate is a neat-freak. If there’s even a wrinkle in her bedspread, she has a fit. And she runs to Mrs. Middleston like she’s in kindergarten or something.”

  Ryn settled on Vanessa’s bed, scooting several stuffed Pooh friends out of the way to sit with her back against the wall. Vanessa cradled Eeyore in her arms.

  “How’s your semester going?” Ryn asked casually.

  Vanessa sighed. “Not great. I bombed my midterms. My mom is really angry with me and keeps threatening to make me come home if I don’t bring my grades up.”

  “Why are your grades suffering?” Ryn asked, resisting the temptation to lecture, knowing it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

  Vanessa picked at a loose thread on Eeyore’s tail. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you going to classes?”

  “Most of them.”

  “How about your homework? Your reading for your classes?”

  Vanessa shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  Ryn weighed how to continue. “Is the work too hard?”

  “No!” Vanessa’s head lifted. “I’m not dumb.”

  “I know you’re not.” Ryn held her gaze. “So why are you failing?”

  Vanessa’s smooth cheeks pinked under Ryn’s scrutiny.

  “I saw you.” Ryn shifted to face Vanessa squarely. “With Geary. Last weekend in Cortland.”

  Vanessa blanched. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  Ryn’s jaw clenched. “Vanessa, he’s using you.”

  “No, he loves me.” She reached for Ryn’s hand. “He told me. He’s going to get me an apartment next semester. So we can be together more.”

  “He doesn’t love you,” Ryn said fiercely. “He does this. I heard about it my first week here.”

  Vanessa yanked her hand away, her cheeks colored again by angry scarlet patches. “You’re wrong! Even if he… No one before matters. I know he loves me now.”

  She swung her legs over the side of the mattress. “If that’s what you came here for, you can just leave.” She stood. “I love him, and I’m not giving him up.”

  Her expression changed as she scowled at Ryn. “He told me about how you’re jealous of him. How you try to take credit for his work.” She jabbed a finger at the door. “I think you should leave.”

  Stunned, Ryn bit back all the retorts trying to escape from her mouth and clomped down the stairs. That couldn’t have gone any worse. She didn’t bother seeking Mrs. Middleston out to say farewell. She trudged home to Henrietta as the early evening began to settle over the village.

  Despite the cool air, she was warm and sweating by the time she unlocked the front door. Seeing the empty living room and kitchen, Ryn deposited her bag in the hall and poked her head around the door into the studio. Henrietta was sketching.

  “You’re going to hurt your eyes, working without better light,” she said, reaching for the switch.

  “Don’t turn it on, not yet.” Henrietta’s eyes flicked back and forth between another still life she had prepared and her sketchpad. “The shadows are just where I want them.”

  Ryn came over to stand behind her, watching the pencil fly over the paper, shading and sketching as the scene came to life in Henrietta’s hands.

  “I wish I could do that.”

  Henrietta pointed. “There’s an extra pad and some pencils.”

  “What? I wouldn’t know how to start,” Ryn protested.

  “You start by picking up a pencil and paper,” Henrietta said tartly. “Don’t think about it. Just start making lines.”

  Ryn still hesitated, not sure where to begin. Henrietta flippe
d to a fresh page in her own pad.

  “Like this.” She laid out quick, whispery lines that quickly became the rough wooden table, the basic outline of the old apple crate, the pumpkins sitting inside it. “You don’t need detail. Just suggestions of what’s there.”

  Ryn tried it. Her perspective was completely off, but it looked like a box sitting on a table. Kind of. If she tilted her head just so. “I think I’d better leave this to the artist in the family.” She set the pad down.

  Henrietta was looking at her, her face half in shadows.

  “What?”

  Henrietta shook her head. “Nothing. You’re right. It’s too dark. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

  She slid off her stool and reached for her crutches.

  “What’re you in the mood for for dinner?” Ryn asked, leading the way back out to the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong. You look upset.”

  Ryn turned with some surprise to Henrietta. “How could you tell that?”

  Henrietta rolled her eyes. “What’s the problem?”

  Ryn stared at the floor for a moment. “It’s Geary again.”

  “I think I may need to sit down for this.” Henrietta lowered herself into her chair at the table.

  Ryn joined her. “He’s having an affair with a freshman. My former roommate at the boarding house. I saw them in Cortland last weekend. I just tried to talk to her, but she says she loves him.”

  “He’s having a relationship with a student?” Henrietta’s voice was brittle.

  Ryn nodded. “She’s a nice girl, but so sheltered and so gullible and naïve. I don’t know what to do. Beverly hinted when I first came here that he does this, and I should stay away from him.” She scoffed. “Like I’d go anywhere near that pig.”

  She glanced up. “What do you think I should do?”

  Henrietta pursed her lips for a moment. “I think, as unfortunate as it is, there is nothing you can do. Not given your relationship with Jerry Talbert. The girl is, I presume, of legal age?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I know this is not what you want to hear, but I think you have enough to worry about with your own position without getting involved in something like this.”