Where to start? “I’m sorry, Elaine, I—”
She held up her hand. Clearly, that was not a good beginning. Elaine turned and left the kitchen. I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I heard her bedroom door slam. In my mind, I heard her call a cab to take Matt and me to the airport.
I left the house almost immediately so Elaine wouldn’t feel like a prisoner in her own home. I’d slipped a note under her bedroom door. I sensed no movement inside, probably because she’d heard me pound my way up the steps.
Elaine, I’m going for a walk. I know I have a lot to explain and hope you will allow me to. Love, G.
Fortunately, in Berkeley, there’s always a coffee shop within walking distance. I took a table at the one nearest Elaine’s, at the edge of Holy Hill, and tried to regain my composure enough to formulate a plan. I was tempted to order from the impressive collection of Italian sodas but thought I’d fare better with another dose of caffeine.
I called Matt first, to head him off. He answered from Dana’s Jeep.
“We’re on our way back. Dana’s going to drop me off at Elaine’s,” he said. “We’re about five minutes away.”
Close call. “Can you meet me at the Heavenly Cup instead?” I asked. “It’s the one near Hearst and Euclid.”
“Something wrong?” Did he know that I’d nearly blurted out, No, no, don’t go to Elaine’s!
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“You’re okay, though, right?”
“I’m okay.”
“So, you in trouble?”
I looked at my cell phone and could almost see Matt’s grin on the screen. The image relaxed me enough to take my first good breath since hearing Andrea’s message.
While I waited for Matt, I called Andrea and thanked her for finding the papers I’d asked for, trying to put only a positive spin on her efforts, in my mind as well as with my words. There was no way I could blame Andrea for this. She wouldn’t have recognized Phil’s name. Nor would she have thought I’d be so low as to investigate Elaine’s fiance.
Without telling her why, I asked her to use my cell phone number for all future communication.
“Oh, right,” she said. “I should have known not to tie up Elaine’s line. Wedding calls galore, I’ll bet.”
“That’s it.” I didn’t mention that I might be going home sooner than planned. “I can’t really talk now, Andrea, but I’ll call later with a fax number for the nearest copy place.”
“Okay.” Then, “Oh, wait, Gloria. One more thing before you hang up.” Andrea sounded out of breath, as if she’d had to run to catch up with me before I clicked END. “There was an explosion in Chelsea today. O‘Neal’s—”
“O’Neal’s hearse.” I’d forgotten about Rose’s crisis. One too many for me at the moment. “I know. Andrea, will you do me a great favor and call Rose? Tell her my battery is—” It was a measure of my distress that I resorted to a trick as old as telephone wires. I punched numbers at random, hoping the sound would convince Andrea that I was losing my battery power. Not to say my mind, but Andrea might not be able to figure that one out. Then I punched OFF and put my cell phone in my purse, out of service.
“Are you okay?” The young waitress who put a double espresso in front of me seemed concerned. I wondered what I looked like to prompt the question. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
Dana stopped only long enough to drop Matt off. I was glad she didn’t join us for coffee. After all, the man whose life I’d been snooping around in was not only Elaine’s fiance but also Dana’s father.
Matt greeted me with a look that warned of major teasing. “Dana’s going for a nice massage now. Arranged by Elaine. She’s such a good friend to all.”
Matt knew how to get to me. It was a good thing he loved me.
“How did you know? That I was in trouble with Elaine?” I asked him.
“It was bound to happen. You’re living in Elaine’s house and investigating her fiance. It’s a no-brainer.”
“A no-brainer? I can tell you’ve been hanging around with the twenty-something set.”
The twenty-something waitress brought a latte for Matt and added regular coffee to my tiny espresso cup. The young woman’s T-shirt bore a yellow-and-black diamond-shaped design with the words JESUS AT WORK. A reminder that we were in the Heavenly Cup on Holy Hill. I felt anything but saintly.
“I feel awful, Matt,” I said. “I don’t know how I’m going to fix this. There’s probably nothing to investigate in the first place, and here I am—”