Chapter 21

“I can see her lookin’ fast in her faded jeans.
She’s a hard-lovin’ woman, got me feelin’ mean.
Sometimes, I think it’s a shame,
when I feel like I’m winning, when I’m losin’ again.
Sundown, you better take care,
if I find you been creepin’ round my back stair.
Sundown, you better take care,
if I find you been creepin’ round my back stair.
Sometimes, I think it’s a sin,
when I feel like I’m winning, and I’m losing again.”
-Gordon Lightfoot, “Sundown“

Susan Bailey explored a bit more to kill time before entering the Grand Ballroom of Castle Finzione about an hour later. Wikipedia had stated that construction on the Grand Ballroom began in 1658; however, the police tape around about a quarter of the room was almost certainly a more recent addition.

“Mademoiselle Bailey,” One of La Policia’s officers, who were guarding the cordoned-off portion of the large room that had been designated the crime scene, said when she entered. “La Contessa is waiting for you on the patio.” He pointed to one of the sets of French doors at the other end of the room.

“Thanks,” Susan said, having never been called Mademoiselle before that moment. She thought she recognized the officer. “Hey, weren’t you at the motel a couple days ago?”

“Oui.” The officer said, with a smile. “I heard your conversation with Le Prefect. I was telling the other officers about it.”

He turned to the other officers, gave Susan a pat on the shoulder that would have made her uncomfortable, if the intent hadn’t been so obviously friendly; and said something to the other policemen in French. Susan gathered from her name and their applause that the message was “This is that woman I was just telling you about, the one who got in the Prefect’s face.”

Her time in San Finzione was teaching her the value of learning a second language. Susan had concluded that Klingon might not have been the best choice for hers, and that she should learn a third. Troy had told her that Italian would be the most useful for getting around San Finzione, as that was the primary of the four official languages of the country. Most citizens spoke at least one of the other three, as well; English, Spanish, or French. He’d said the tourism brochures often boasted “if the person you’re talking to can’t help you, the person next to them probably can”.

Troy also pointed out that with Helen’s gift for languages, she would be an excellent teacher, and probably happy to help. The conversation she was about to walk into would determine that possibility.

She looked over at the spot where outlines in tape showed where Helen and the assassin’s bodies fell. Susan felt a little chill as she crossed the Grand Ballroom to the patio and stepped out onto it.

Contessa Helena de San Finzione sat in her wheelchair on the patio, looked at the garden below, and smoked. She heard the French doors behind her open, turned her head, and her shoulder made her instantly regret it. She winced and turned the chair around instead, to face Susan. Susan determined by the butts already in the ash tray that she hadn’t needed as much time to clean up and change as she’d estimated, and Helen had been waiting out here a while.

“Weird choice for a place to talk,” said Susan. “Having to go right by where that happened a few days ago.”

“I couldn’t avoid it forever.” Helen responded, putting out her cigarette. “The last time they were here, Julie and I talked out on this patio. Things that needed to be said got said, and we ... well, we’re where we are today as a result. I’m hoping that maybe, this turns out to be a lucky spot.”

Susan nodded her understanding. Helen wheeled over to the table with the two chairs where she and Julie sat and moved the chair in her spot aside to wheel up to the table. She gestured to the tray on the table.

“I wasn’t sure what you drink,” Helen explained. “So, Jeanne made tea.”

“That sounds nice,” Susan replied, and sat down. Since Helen was operating with one hand, Susan poured her a cup before her own. “Here ya go...” Susan had to stop herself before she added the “hon” and “anything else for you, sweetie,” and sat back down, slightly flushed.

“Hey,” Helen said with a tiny smile as she took out another cigarette. “If anyone understands old habits.”

She put it in her mouth, and as she was bringing the lighter up to it, stopped herself. Helen took the cigarette out of her mouth and made a “do you mind” gesture to Susan. Her response was a mixture of a turn of her head and a shrug, so Helen nodded and resumed lighting it.

A few seconds of silence passed as Helen smoked and Susan sipped before Helen spoke again.

“I should be the one to start. I hope that I haven’t already said it so much that it comes off as a line; however, it feels like the best place to begin. I am deeply sorry and thoroughly regret what I did and how I treated you, Susan. Not knowing what you’d been through before excuses nothing. You didn’t deserve it, and it is entirely my fault.”

Susan listened while she drank, then set her cup down.

“And I sincerely thank you, Helen. I must admit, it did feel like a line the first time, and that has certainly colored things. The video you made helped me see that. You were right about the poor choice of words.”

Helen nodded in response, took a puff of her cigarette, then set it in an ash tray so she could pick up her own cup and take a drink.

“I really should have known better. Someday, I may tell just how much.”

“In all fairness,” Susan told her. “Troy and Julie hadn’t told me a lot about you before we met. And the things they had to say ... weren’t bad, but certainly not good. I didn’t even know your name until that moment, just that there was ‘someone else out there who can Do What We Do.’”

“God,” Helen replied. “They prepared you for Dr. Doom!” She thought for a moment. “Ok, yeah. I totally see that. After Julie and I parted in Madrid, I didn’t really talk to them for a while; except for the odd ‘I’ve got a problem that only you and Troy can understand, and can’t or don’t want to bug Troy about it’ call. They always answered those, and so did I. Whatever you come away thinking of me, Susan, I hope you know that you’ve got that, too. I wish I’d been better about doing it back then.”

Helen resumed smoking as Susan replied.

“I know. And I hope I’ve proved it as well.” Helen nodded and Susan continued. “I know that a big part of this has to do with me, too. Chad always seemed to sense when he was about to push me to the point of leaving him or telling someone who’d listen about the things he did to me. And suddenly, he’d bring home flowers, or order pizza and let me pick a movie, even ‘that nerd stuff you like.’ And he’d be nice for a day or two before starting back up again.”

“Yeah, if Wade did anything nice or slightly loving, it was a setup for later.” Helen thought for a drag, and coughed a bit on the exhale as something dawned on her. “Oh, fuck! Oh, Susan! I made you feel lesser, and then tossed you a big bag of expensive gifts! No wonder you thought that of me! Knowing that now still forgives nothing; however, I hope that I can at least explain who I was back then. Not out of any effort to excuse or garner pity, simply so that you can measure it against who I’ve been working to be since then. I would hope you don’t know as much as I do about probation and parole hearings. That said, it’s the procedure to which I’m most accustomed.”

Susan agreed. Helen finished her cup. Susan got up to pour her another, but she insisted on doing it herself. After a couple of fumbles with sugar cubes, Susan finished the job for her.

“Eh, I loosened it for ya,” Helen said with a smile. Susan had heard her say that before and got a kick out of it. “Well, I guess it all starts with Troy & Julie.”

“Most things do, yeah.” Susan replied. Helen stirred her cup, looked down at the ground, then back up at Susan before speaking.

“I love those two so fucking much. I always have. I’m not going to bore you with the ‘daddy beat me’ shit; you know all about that. I respect you too much to try to ‘play that card,’ like it’s my note from Mommy, excusing me from The Human Race.”

Susan nodded and commented.

“Yeah. Someone warned me once about laying all our tragedy cards on the table and seeing who wins.”

Helen leaned forward and cupped her forehead in her right hand. The motion of her neck was felt in her shoulder, but she didn’t care.

“You weren’t insulting me when you said I was a bitch, just being really accurate. What I will say, is that I know I would have died long ago without them and Propappou. Through most of my childhood and teen years, they saved my life again and again. They taught me The Thing because Wade just decided one night, “time to kill the little bitch.’ Wade and Marion Parker were not my family, they were. In as real a way as I know that they’re yours, too, Susan. They love you, like I know they love me. But they were always sad and scared for me along with it. And then they were worried about the lengths that I might go to with The Thing. They had good reason, too. I figured Life fucking owed me for dumping me into the Parker family, and I used The Thing to collect on that debt.”

“Like seducing and marrying your way to the throne?” Susan asked.

Helen’s reaction wasn’t hurt or angry, so much as “Yeah, I figured that was coming eventually.”

“That’s the popular version, and the one I chose to let them believe. When I first met my husband, Julie and I had just had our ‘final argument,’ and ... well, Vincenzo was quite a handsome old fellow. I’m not a total Silver Fox Hound, but you know how they say that women are attracted to men who remind us of our fathers? Well, the man I regard as my father fought in World War I. And I won’t lie and say that I didn’t have little cartoon dollar signs shooting out of my eyes and hear a cash register noise when I approached him, but can’t one thing become another? Can’t you meet someone who sees right through the façade you put on for everyone else and just ... reaches into your heart and pulls out the person you wish you were?”

“That can certainly happen, yes.” Susan mused, remembering how a trip to the library to use the computer had changed her entire life.

“Before him, I had met exactly two men, in the entire world, that I would describe as ‘good.’ One was denied me by Wade and the courts, the other by the fact that his heart belonged to the girl I’d just broken up with; because I knew her heart belonged to him, too; even if both of them were too blind to see it.”

“They were a couple when I met them,” Susan commented. “And they just immediately and completely welcomed me into their lives. As far as having a man in my life, I went from Chad to Troy, with no stops in-between.”

“That’s got to be the complete opposite ends of the spectrum as far as men go.” Helen replied with a laugh. Susan laughed too, and Helen avoided watching her breasts bounce as she did. Even though Susan was fully dressed, Helen could still picture Suzy-Q’s body under her dress. Suzy-Q had said that she and ‘the others’ all looked exactly like Susan, and caught herself wondering how accurate the statement had been.

Susan broke the silence after the laughter died down, and before it had time to get awkward.

“My one experience with another woman before I’d met them had been a disaster. Julie totally opened my eyes there. Well, Claire did first, then Julie. I’ve never seen two people as much in love as her and Troy, and I am honored that they share it with me.

“I get that you love them as much as I do, Helen. And I know you’d still be with one or both of them today, if the thought of being either of their ‘second choice,’ much less both of them, wasn’t too much for you. They never make me feel that. In fact, Julie was worried I might after they got back from seeing you before. They didn’t need to worry, but ... er ... I really liked how they went about it. That’s what motivated me to call you that first time. I had never seen either of them worry about anything until they got home.”

“You were protecting your family.” Helen agreed. “I was some bad influence from their past who’d hurt you and managed to buy my way back into their hearts, like I tried to buy my way into yours. Again, I find myself unable to blame you at all.”

“That night, that’s what I thought I was doing; protecting them. When I moved in, Monday through Thursday were ‘Just Us Time.’ I was happy to give it to them; still am. I was ... staying with some friends for the weekend when I got the news about you. They’ve called it ‘Just Us and Susan’s Always Welcome to Join Time’ ever since.”

Helen beamed to hear that.

“I truly envy you, Susan. Both of them were my first love, back when even suggesting that they get together was always met with an ‘eww’ from both parties. And the night we had when they were here last time was positively magical.”

The cigarette had burned out again, so she lit another and leaned in conspiratorially. Moving her lower back to bend didn’t hurt as much.

“Before that night,” she whispered to Susan, making her think of how she’d acted on the video during the drunk bit. “I hadn’t gone down on a guy since...” Helen felt the vibe that it was too early for ‘girl talk,’ and backed out of the sentence, taking a drag of her cigarette. “Ok, you probably don’t want to hear the GOOD parts of my sex life with Vincenzo either.”