Her back was a little stiff and Clary eased down on the deck steps. Felice had been none-too-gentle, shoving her against the house last night, and it was still on her mind when she woke. She’d indulged in a long soak in the tub. Last night had been a lot more than her lack of response. Felice had reminded her of Robin. No one loved intense flirting and fast, rough sex with lots of playthings more than Robin.
The only time they’d argued over sex was the last time. Exhausted after a twelve-hour day at school, Clary had only needed sleep, but Robin wanted to try out a new toy. She’d relented, and afterward, she’d rolled off, tossed the strap-on to the floor, and pulled Robin close. Robin had muttered the word uninspired but, tired beyond thinking, Clary had fallen asleep immediately. The next day, Robin had repeated it loud and clear, and then, weeks later, they were gone.
Clary had lost track of how many times she’d discussed that night with her therapist.
She glanced over her shoulder at the lounge with a little tug at her heart. Leefe calmed her last night, and that hug had been nice. Then later, she’d felt so alive and free, sitting on the sand with her and the stars and the water.
With a deep breath, she stood and walked barefoot through the dewy grass. The flowers hadn’t changed much, except for new sunny lilies and different shrubs in the corner. Maureen used common flowers, something Clary always liked. Her arrangement and care made them stand out. Several years ago, the university had given Maureen the title of Master Gardener, thrilling her aunt. Her parents had even flown home for a celebration, but she’d missed it because of school. Wrapped in her thoughts, she stared at the flowers and then blinked.
“I’ll be darned. Trillium,” she said, going to her knees in front of some blue hydrangeas. The plants were scattered throughout the beds. She bent into the smell of fresh earth and pulled a few weeds. Aunt Maureen had planted them when Sharon had graduated from college, not that Sharon had noticed. Trillium was a wild flower and hard to grow. Just like Sharon.
“Clary.” Piper walked across the yard toward her. “My parents are coming for dinner tonight. Could I have a cutting of Maureen’s flowers, maybe the lilies? Ours aren’t quite ready.” Piper pointed at the flowers in the corner. “I need some long stems for the arrangement.”
“Take what you need.” Clary handed her the shears. “Your parents are in town?”
Piper cut some flowers and stood. “They’re good people, but…” She took a deep breath. “Mom isn’t happy that I live with a woman. Dad’s fine with it all, as long as I’m happy.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Clary took the flowers for her. “Let’s put these in water.”
“There’s something else I should have told you, but can you keep it between us?”
“Jesse always says it’d take a foreign army to torture information out of me. Let’s have some coffee and sit on the deck.” Clary placed the flowers in a small bucket and filled it with water. “I’ll make coffee,” she said. Waiting in the kitchen, she saw Aunt Mo’s blanket hanging over the kitchen chair and refolded it, catching a scent. The faint fragrance had been there when she hugged Leefe last night. It was lavender, old-fashioned and sweet.
Piper was leaning against the railing, staring out at the flowers. “Did you ever see a prettier backyard?”
“I like the blue spruce against the fence, like guards against the enemy. See the asparagus in front? It’s ready. Want some?”
“I love the stuff. Got any favorite recipes?”
“My mother’s, and you’ll like it.” Clary set the cups on the table. Piper looked jittery and unsettled. “What else should you have told me?”
“Last year, early summer, I put a lot of pressure on Jesse about a baby.” Piper glanced at Clary and then looked away.
“Are you serious? How did that work out?”
“Not very well,” Piper said, still standing at the rail. “We fought all summer, and then this thing with Sharon suddenly came up in the fall. Some of her problems now are my fault. Jesse’s in no shape to have a baby in the house, but I truly would like to get pregnant, have a baby, maybe two. I’ve gone through all the tests with the doctor, and I can do it.”
Clary thought of Jesse and how moody she was. “Hannah was only three months old when she and Robin moved in with me. It didn’t take me long to figure out that babies are a big responsibility.”
Piper sank down at the table and took a taste of the coffee. “It was only a dream. My dream, but I think Jesse feels as if she let me down and she may bring it up to you.” She tried to smile but ended up with a frown. “The long hours at the police station exhaust her. Under the new governor, every city is cutting budgets, which means more work. I haven’t said a word about a baby since last fall.”
Clary thought of her days with Hannah and changing diapers, middle-of-the-night bottles, and walks in the stroller. Hannah was so tiny when Robin moved in, and she’d thrown herself whole-heartedly into her care. There’d been days at school when she’d have double vision from lack of sleep.
“You made a good decision, Piper.”
“Jesse says you’re the only person that has as much energy as she does. You know she considers you her little sister?” Piper took a drink of her coffee and leaned back with a smile.
Clary gave a disbelieving snort. “I don’t even remember what energy is anymore. As to the sister-business, when I needed something done, I’d turn to Jesse. She was the protector and the Energizer Bunny. When I needed to talk, you know, girl talk, personal stuff, I always went to Sharon.” Clary blinked. She’d forgotten how true that had been.
Piper nodded. “I can’t understand this obsession, about why Sharon left. You’re the only person I feel might understand the whole thing.”
“I don’t get it either, but I’ll listen when she wants to talk. Piper, if I can find anything, I’ll talk to you, but I’ll make that clear to Jesse too.”
Piper looked out at the yard, and they both were quiet for a moment. “Our classes will start soon. Have you gone through the iPad?”
“I’ve gone all the way through it once and had a thought about your students. Could you use Leefe’s help? Her information on the kids she had at day care might give you super clues.”
“That never occurred to me.” Piper gave her a thoughtful look.
“I read the assessments and teachers’ comments from last year. You have some tough hours ahead. Maybe Leefe has some special information about them when they were little that contains clues, or why they don’t care if they learn. Do you know how often your teachers used the words bored and distracted?”
“I thought we could talk about this tomorrow at the meeting.”
“Let’s do, and believe me, I am not one of those teachers who wants every child to be a superstar. Still, it’d be nice if they could read at the appropriate level and understand concepts or abstracts.”
Piper looked skeptical. “We only have two months.”
“It’s an opportunity to go into the next school year with a clear idea about what’s happening with these particular students. This’ll pool your motivational tools.”
“That’s why I asked for your opinion,” Piper said and finished her coffee. “I read the acceptance speech you gave in Iowa City. That was a kick-ass idea, Clary, having those kids publish a Guide to Basic English.”
“It started because of texting, and I know that’s not news to you. I was trying to get them to use the correct word, not slip into their own language. After my breakdown, or whatever you call it, the—”
Piper leaned forward. “What breakdown? You never mentioned anything like that.”
Clary hadn’t meant to mention it and scrambled to explain. “I have friends there, Piper, and they helped. I saw a therapist and even spent a few days resting in a hospital during Christmas vacation. I’m off all the anti-anxiety meds and feel better. That’s what counts.”
Piper still looked concerned. “You should have said something. We knew you were going through a rough time, but, Clary, a breakdown?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what else to call it…or how to talk about it.” Piper only frowned, so Clary hurried on. “Anyway, look at the homeless issue you’re dealing with. Jesse gave me some of Leefe’s background. Because she was abandoned, the word ‘parent’ would have a hugely different context for her than it would for us. I asked her last night, and she said she’d be happy to give us any information she could.”
Piper bit her lip. “I never thought of using someone that had actually been homeless as a source.”
“I couldn’t have done the publishing in Iowa without the kids. I needed them to combine the two languages, theirs and ours, yet keep the integrity of the word, and how it works in the real world. Why can’t you do the same with the homeless? I’m going to drop into the day care tomorrow and watch Leefe in real time. I have a feeling she can bridge the two worlds.”
“All right, but if it doesn’t work and I say so, we don’t use her.” Piper stood, stretching. “Where did you see Leefe last night?”
“She stopped here on her way home. Remember you said she does something for the police, but it was a little murky? She tracks homeless families, and this is her safe house.”
“I didn’t know,” Piper said. She picked up the bucket and walked down the steps. “Did you have a good time last night?”
“Are you kidding? I loved it. It was my first time on the lake in years…or do you mean with Felice?”
Piper nodded. “Felice came back just as we left. She and Kaye huddled up, laughing about something.” Piper cocked her head, waiting for Clary to respond.
Clary rolled her sore shoulders and shook her head. “I don’t know. I think my body’s broken.”
Piper started down the driveway but turned back, shading her eyes from the sun. “Can I ask about Leefe? She seems to have caught your attention.”
“She makes me smile, and she’s interesting. That’s worth something. No, it’s worth a lot.”
“Oh, ha, you should see your face. Your body’s not broken. You were just with the wrong person last night.” Piper shot her a devilish grin, pointing at her. “Jesse said Leefe asked if you’d pose for her art class.”
Clary felt her face warm. “For Pete’s sake, does everyone know about this?”
Piper giggled. “South Port’s amazing. Eighty-some thousand people get the news at the speed of light.”
“Actually, as long as it’s not nude—” Clary looked at Piper. “It isn’t, is it?”
“How would I know? Maybe you could get Jesse to pose with you. It might relax her.” They laughed as Piper walked away, down the driveway.
She opened the garage door for the lawnmower and anxiety jolted through her. “Damn,” she muttered. It was the first true anxiety she’d felt since she’d been home. If Felice had talked to Kaye, everyone would know about last night. She checked the gas in the mower, and then stopped. Did it really matter what Kaye said to anyone? Kaye had bugged her since they were in grade school, and it was going to end, now. Hadn’t she learned anything in Iowa?
When she was done with the yard, she’d swing by the marina to begin the process of getting the boat out of storage. Tonight, she’d read more of the Kozel book that Piper had given her. It was a wealth of information, with a lot of clues about the homeless.
She scanned the beach. Actually, the best thing to do was talk to Leefe.