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Hook's Pan Page 3
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Raising a finger, Trisha called over their waiter. Ordering quickly, she glared at the others, silently demanding they hurry up and make theirs so they could hurry up and get back to their conversation.
When the waiter walked away, she got right back to business. “So?” Trisha lifted a brow.
Looking slightly green around the gills, Betty nodded. “All right, fine. You’re never going to believe a word I say, so please don’t interrupt me until I’m finished, you got it?”
Confused, slightly scared, Trisha turned to Gerard. hoping maybe he’d say something, do something to help explain what was going on. Help her to at least calm down. But he was no help; he was looking at the wine list like he’d suddenly discovered the meaning to the universe inside.
Shaking her hands, and rolling her neck, looking like a fighter ready to jump into the ring, Betty inhaled. “So, you know all those times Gerard and I disappear and you always complain that you can’t reach us?”
Trisha narrowed her eyes. “Yeah? You always said you were in the mountains.”
“Huh, do I?” Betty laughed weakly.
And that sound sent chills through Trisha’s spine. In all the years they’d known each other she couldn’t once recall Betty ever hemming and hawing. “Betty, what’s going on?”
“I’m getting to it, Trish. I said don’t speak.” She stuck out her tongue, and Gerard started rubbing her arm tenderly. Taking a deep breath, she said, “So we’re actually in Kingdom.”
“Kingdom?”
Umm…color her clueless, because that meant squat to her. Cocking her head, she waited for some sort of explanation.
Gerard cleared his throat, glancing around at the other tables with a concerned frown.
“Okay, Kingdom. And where’s that exactly?” She tried, but couldn’t quite hide the skepticism in her words.
“Jeez, Trish…seriously, no talking.” Betty glared. “Danika was right, this is hard.”
Danika? Who was Betty talking about? And why did she suddenly feel like she’d stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone? Betty was acting weird, so was Gerard, and not that that was totally unheard of, they were both weirdos, but this went beyond the norm for either one of them.
“All right, I’m just going to lay it out there. Kingdom is like another planet completely.”
Trisha started laughing, because seriously, it was obvious Betty was pulling her leg.
But Betty only frowned harder and plowed on.
“I’m serious. At first I didn’t totally believe it. But you know, when there’re fairies hovering in your living room that are the size of hummingbirds, well you don’t really have a choice but to believe it. Especially when one of them curses your husband with a—”
“Mmhhmm,” Gerard cleared his throat, frowning at Betty who jerked and then blushed.
“Erm. Umm. What I mean is.” Betty smiled. “Anyway, that part doesn’t matter.” She flicked her wrist. “So Kingdom is far, far away, and that’s where we live when we’re not here on Earth. It’s full of all the fairytales you’ve ever heard of. In fact, Gerard,” Betty clapped his broad shoulders, “is from the Beauty and the Beast story. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
And the whole time Betty’s smile grew wider; Trisha’s heart sank farther. The laughter died on her tongue somewhere around the far, far away part and she was pretty sure her eyes were bulging from her head.
Did Kelly know his sister was sick?
Trisha studied Betty who was now leaning into Gerard with a relieved look. Gerard, however, was studying Trisha and his scowl was deep and serious.
Betty was beaming. She didn’t look sick, in fact, she looked better than she had in years. Joy literally seemed to seep from her pores. They’d been friends ever since grade school, Trisha knew all about Betty’s love affair with comics and manga and fairytales… Anyone who knew Betty at all, knew that beneath the adorably geeky exterior was an honest-to-goodness uber nerd. But this was too much.
Stomach rolling, she glared at Gerard. “And you believe this?”
She threw the question at him like an accusation.
He rubbed his chin, nodding only slightly. “Of course I do, it is where I was born.”
Trisha’s nostrils flared and she bunched her fingers in her lap.
Betty’s eyes darted between their faces and her mouth formed into a tiny little ‘o.’ “Umm, maybe I explained this all wrong. Jeez, I ummm…”
Trisha ground her jaw, fighting the need to run away as her heart thumped a powerful cadence in her chest. Leaning in, she hiss whispered, “I thought we were friends?”
Hurt filtered through Betty’s eyes. “We are.”
“No, because if we were you’d tell me the truth. If you didn’t want to pick up my phone calls then tell me so, but at least don’t come up with some stupid excuse like that. I thought our friendship meant more than that.”
Looking at Gerard again with hopeless, wide eyes Betty shook her head. “I swear to you, Trish, every word of this is true. You want to know why I look so pregnant? It’s because I’ve been there. I’m only five days pregnant by Earth time.”
“What!” Trisha tossed her napkin onto the table, ready to grab her purse and just get the hell out of dodge. She was angry and humiliated. Why had Betty felt the need to lie, why couldn’t she just be honest? Did Betty think she couldn’t handle knowing the truth?
That she was married and obviously wanted her space. Trisha was a big girl; she didn’t need lies to make it through the day. Especially not from the one person she still trusted in the whole wide world.
“I can’t believe you’d lie to me like this, Betty. I thought our friendship meant something.”
“Oh my God, Gerard, she’s going to leave, baby, you have to help me.” Betty grabbed his arm and shook it.
“Trishelle, everything she has told you is all true.”
Going to her happy place, Trisha tapped her nail on the table and tried to drown them out. She wouldn’t walk away, even though that’s exactly what she wanted to do—because even if Betty no longer considered Trisha a friend, she still did and she was really hoping to God her friend would laugh any second now and say “Just kidding.”
“I’m sorry to be blunt, but we thought it might be best to hear it from your friends as opposed to having a petite fairy show up in your apartment to drag you off to Neverland,” he said.
“Neverland!” Trisha laughed with no small amount of relief. It was a joke after all, elaborate, and wow, when had Betty become such a great actress? She’d really had Trisha going there for a second. Sighing with relief, she nodded. “Okay,” she held up her hands, “I was seriously getting all hurt, sheesh Betty… You jerk, that was a mean joke.”
Betty’s brows gathered into a question mark and Gerard shook his head as other tables began to take note of them, twisting in their seats to find out what’d made Trisha chortle like a braying donkey.
The waiter arrived with their salads and Trisha tried to ignore the sick pit in her stomach telling her that neither one was actually joking. She kept waiting for the punch line, the ‘Ha, I got you,’ but it wasn’t coming.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence, which increased her anxiety. This had to be a joke. Had to. Because she was wearing a Peter Pan costume for crying out loud. Obviously it was a joke.
The salmon salad had been good, but it was sitting in Trisha’s stomach funny. Wanting to cleanse her palate of the overwhelming fishy taste, she ordered a coffee. “So, are you guys coming to the play? I’m sure Briley would love it.”
Betty’s lips were thinned and lines bracketed her mouth as she finally nodded. “That was the plan.”
The waiter returned with Trisha’s coffee. She took it from him with slightly trembling fingers and a hard pit forming in her stomach.
Betty picked at her chef’s salad, moving cherry tomatoes around her plate before finally sighing and setting her fork down. “Trisha, it’s all true. Danika is Gerard’s fairy godmother. She sent u
s here to convince you of this, or she’d come herself and just whisk you off. But I know how much you hate surprises so I begged her to let me be the one to tell you the truth myself, give you some warning before just dumping you in Hook’s lap.”
Choking on the hot coffee, Trisha thumped her chest. “I’m sorry, what?” she wheezed through the tears. “Did you say Hook?”
“James, that’s how he prefers to be called,” Gerard supplied.
Licking her teeth, the fire in Trisha’s belly roared back to life. Scooting her chair back so hard it toppled to the ground, she stood. “You know what, that’s fine. Whatever. I’m glad you guys find it so funny to act like total asses with me, real nice. You know it would have been easier to just say, ‘Trisha, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about the baby and for ignoring you so much these past few months. I’m an ass, can you ever forgive me?’ This just sucks.” Needing to get away before the angry tears started spilling, Trisha yanked her purse off the ground. “Thanks for lunch.” She reached into her purse and tossed whatever bills she could find on the table, not bothering to look to see how much it was. “I’ve gotta run.”
Turning on her heels, she ran out of the bistro and turned down the street. Ignoring Betty and Gerard’s cries for her to “Wait, stop, please listen to us, Trisha.”
For months Trisha had felt like Betty had been ignoring her, which of course was understandable because she was a newlywed, but Trisha’d hoped that by the time that phase went away they’d be able to pick back up where they’d left off.
Tears plopped off the tip of her nose; she swiped them away angrily as she ran toward the high school auditorium. She was so not in the mood for rehearsals and if the play weren’t airing tonight, she’d totally bail on this.
One would think at this point in her life she’d be used to crap happening, but no, it never got easier. However, Trisha was never one to air her dirty laundry. Squaring her shoulders once she saw the school, she attached the fattest, fakest grin on her face and breezed through the doors into the gymnasium. The mask was firmly in place once more.
“Trisha, thank the Goddess you’re here.” Julie—aka stage director, aka pain in the ass—sailed toward Trisha on a cloud of patchouli perfume. Golden bangles on her wrist jingled as she dramatically threw her hands in the air. “Where have you been? We’ve only been waiting on you for hours.”
Rolling her eyes, very accustomed to Julie’s drama, Trisha plopped her purse on the ground and headed toward the stage. “Try five minutes, and besides, I’m sure you were doing just fine without me.” Indicating the stage with a flip of her hand.
Stage designers were still all over the place, drilling and hammering away at the wooden panels of Neverland. Painters were kneeling above half-finished panels, frantically trying to finish up Tiger Lily’s woods.
Rigging, which was really the only thing Trisha needed to be around for, was far from ready to happen.
Julie’s long, fake lashes fluttered as she shook her bright orange mop of frizzy hair. “Regardless, all actors were to be here on time. How can I depend on you to play my Peter, when I can’t even depend on you showing up at all!”
With a performance worthy of an Oscar, she twirled on her sandaled feet causing her bohemian brown and orange skirt to snap out behind her like a sail catching wind.
“Don’t worry about the Queen B, Trishelle.” Remy hugged her shoulders. His inky black curls tickled Trisha’s nose and she had to wiggle it to keep from sneezing all over his crimson and gold double-breasted pirate’s frock coat.
Casting him a grateful smile, she smoothed his golden lapels down and winked flirtatiously. “Why, my dear James, what a big hook you have.” She tweaked the tip of the silver stage prop he had on his hand.
Remy was every leading woman’s dream—straight out of the ‘if-I-could-build-a-dream-man’ handbook. Piercing green eyes, shaggy blond hair, square chiseled jaw, and a body that made many a woman drool… She’d been completely enthralled by him, but quickly realized the man knew his charm and wielded it like a blade.
“You watch it, little Pan,” he growled, running the hook down her left arm, “you might just make me forget I’m only a villain in the play.”
With a wink and a swagger, he sauntered off to his dressing room.
The piano player started banging out the first discordant keys of a song Julie had decided at the last moment to insert, and Trisha had nothing else to do but sit and wait her turn.
For all her theatrics, Julie was a woman with balls of steel and able to work seemingly impossible magic, namely getting the chaos under control. Within an hour the props were all set up, the rigging was finally getting pulled together, and Trisha was strapping herself in ready to squeak out “I’m a real boy now…”
Oh, wrong play. She laughed, feeling silly. The trauma that’d been Betty and Gerard’s lunch date was all but forgotten as the thrill of the play began to wind through her blood. This was where Trisha shined, up on stage, lights in her face, able to be someone else for just a few hours. This was what she lived for.
Scratching at an itch beneath her green tights, she tried not to squirm as several pairs of hands yanked and zipped her into the rigging, ready to hoist her up in the air.
“You ready?” a gruff voice she didn’t recognize asked, and she nodded, then yelped as she was immediately but smoothly drawn up into the sky.
“Now, listen to me, Trisha,” Julie’s strong voice carried to her as she cupped her hands around her mouth, “recite your lines, throw your hands out, and become the Pan.”
The straps between her legs were tight and pinching. Ignoring the uncomfortable ache squeezing her crotch, she inhaled a lungful of air and planted her hands on her hips, ready to taunt Hook. Suddenly the lights started flashing and sirens blared through the cavernous auditorium.
“Fire!” someone yelled and panic ensued.
People ran like a salmon migration for the doors, tripping and shoving each other out of the way.
“Hey,” Trisha screamed, “somebody help me, hey!” But it was like no one heard her. Not even Julie, who was moving faster than Trisha had ever seen her move. “Julie, heeeelllp.”
And she continued to cry out for help, until the very last person ran through the door.
A creeping white fog started to roll down the aisles, curling up the stage, through the seats, until finally all she could see was the white everywhere.
Heart beating a terrible rhythm in her chest, panic making her mouth dry as a desert, Trisha jerked her legs, trying in vain to yank herself down. She’d much rather fall to her death than die of smoke inhalation at this point.
Sparks flew behind the curtains and the scent of smoke filled her nose. Screaming and twirling like a drunken bat, Trisha didn’t initially see the figure standing below her.
But eventually the voice cut through her blind terror.
“Trisha, relax, it’s just us. It’s just us…”
“Betty?”
Betty was jerking her hand at Gerard who was running behind the stage prop to grab the rope attached to her harness.
“They left me,” she stuttered, “I can’t believe…”
“No, they were enchanted. Danika made them forget all about you.”
“What?” She planted her fists on her hips. Again with the stupid fairy crap. Before she got a chance to swear about it though, Gerard had finally lowered her to the stage. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Betty was on her, releasing her from the harness.
“Listen to me, Trisha, everything, and I mean, everything, I’ve told you is absolutely true. Danika is here and she’ll be taking you on a little journey. I really wanted more time, but…”
“There is no more to be had.” A woman, and Trisha used that word loosely, hopped up onto the stage.
Actually hopped was the wrong word. She glided…on wings.
Blinking, Trisha shook her head. The wings were moving—dragonfly looking things shining with a blue iridescence. They
looked unbelievably real and her heart sank somewhere into the region of her knees.
“Wha… What is—”
The woman/fairy (oh God, had she died? Maybe she was dead. Or passed out…yeah, maybe passed out, was she really giving Betty’s words credence?) was looking at her. Fat, blondish-gray curls bounced around her cherubim-like face as she smiled broadly. “Well, hello Trishelle. Good to finally meet you, Betty’s told me so much.”
Whipping her head back and forth between the three of them Trisha knew she’d get whiplash soon. “Wait. Hold on.” She took a step back as the little woman-thing came closer, wings flitting faster, buzzing loudly behind her. “What’s going on here?”
Gerard had his arms wrapped around Betty’s middle as he leaned over. “We told you truth.”