Page 24 of July Skies
The use of her first name was what shocked Karen the most. After that, it was the dour visage that followed Dahlia out of the room.
Chapter 14
DAHLIA
Hibiscus Films packed up their equipment the next day. Wayne wasn’t surprised by the decision to halt production, but Kurt immediately questioned Dahlia’s sanity. Didn’t she know how hard they had worked? All the money invested and spent? If there wasn’t a film, then where would the paychecks come from? Dahlia assured him he and the guys would get paid, as promised. Even if she had to take the money out of her personal account to make it happen.
That wasn’t enough to sate Kurt, however, who aspired beyond money. The hard work hadn’t paid off. This wasn’t like Dahlia, who had hired him for other jobs and always did professional work. Wayne had to take him aside and inform him that some projects were “cursed.” Take, for instance, Aaron ending up in the hospital. That was a sign of worse things to come. The mayor had made it clear that they weren’t welcomed anymore. Although Dahlia took full responsibility for that, Kurt asked what the hell they would do with the film. Sell it for stock?
Such things weren’t for him to worry about. He was paid a flat rate for his time and expertise. Dahlia was the one who worried about profits. She assured Kurt that, as soon as they returned home, she would sift through the digital files and see what could be salvaged – either for other projects or to, yes, sell as stock. Their full-length documentary might turn into a small segment for national news. That required a different kind of shopping around, however, and Dahlia dreaded it.
She dreaded facing her feelings back home, alone, more.
Back when she first rented her spacious apartment overlooking a large, bustling city, she adored the floor-to-ceiling windows and goldfish views that brought in so much air and light that she never flipped a switch during the summer. Now she cursed the bright sunlight filtering through the glass windows that surrounded her like judgmental panes. Her corner workstation, which included an all-in-one, a MacBook, and enough hard drives and cameras to make a maid dread the dust, only reminded her that she had come back nearly empty-handed.
Even so, she opened a bottle of scotch and began the task of sifting through film files.
There wasn’t enough to create the narrative she sought. The last half of the month was supposed to be a combination of filming Paradise Pride and wrapping up interviews. Instead, Dahlia was left with hours of kids playing at parks, Fourth of July parades, and townsfolk who danced around her questions. With the exception of Karen, of course.
Dahlia replayed that interview, studying the reactions of the woman who was asked to detail her personal history for an international audience. Now that Dahlia knew what was coming at the end of the interview, she could see the little smirks and the inflections of Karen’s voice that announced she knew the reasons for these questions.I remain flummoxed that she figured me out.Someonehadto have told her, although Wayne claimed to be mum. There was no way, though.Howcould she have figured it out? Was the mayor as smart as she came across?
“My marriage taught me that I’m probably not compatible with men for more than a few months at a time,”the recorded Karen said on the camera. She pressed a bejeweled hand against her chest, a sentimental move that humanized her as she spoke of an uncertain past.“I moved here partially to start a new life, partially to take a chance with the local dating scene I had heard so much about.”
“Are you with someone now?”Dahlia’s voice came from off screen.
“No, actually.”
Dahlia stopped the video and looped it back again. This time when she pressed play, she paid close attention to the look in Karen’s eyes. The woman staring into the camera held the answers Dahlia continued to seek. Why? Who? What was this about? What drove a woman to leave her husband? Although Karen had brought her kids with her… it reminded Dahlia so much of what she had seen with her mother.
“No, actually.”
That was sadness in her voice. Reluctance to admit that she was single, and probably had been single since moving to her paradise. This was a woman who immediately dug into the town’s way of life. Its politics. What made it tick and how she could contribute in a positive way. Yet she remained single for that whole time. Originally, Dahlia assumed it was by choice. She was a busy woman. She had two kids to take care of by herself. Then, she had a whole town to look after. Of course she didn’t have time to date. Even in a town full of “lesbians,” Karen Rath had no time to carve out a proper personal life for herself.
Dahlia had foolishly assumed Karen was all right with that. Now, looking back at this interview, she realized something unfortunate.
Karen was lonely.
It was in her eyes. In the curve of her lips and the sag of her shoulders as she admitted her singledom. Karen was alone. She had her children, but that was a different kind of love. Most of the town respected her, so her job gave her purpose, but what else was there? What could she hope to achieve when her kids were gone and she had to retire?
“No, actually.”
Dahlia fast forwarded.
“Naturally, it was an adjustment.” Karen lifted her eyelashes and looked directly into the camera.“You have to understand, though, the deal I had in my divorce was that my ex-husband got the house while I got the kids. There was no having both.”
No having both? That was decided by her ex, but the concept of either having the house or kids, but not both… Dahlia had sympathized with Karen back then, but now she truly understood the great weight that had been upon the mayor’s shoulders. Fresh from a divorce and willing to do whatever it took to keep her children. Her spiteful husband said she could have them as long as he kept the house. He was willing to make his children homeless to rub Karen’s nose in their mutual shit.My mother wouldn’t have done that. She didn’t stick around for a choice. She had made her decision when she left me with my dad and barely talked to me again.Dahlia knew where her mother was now, but their relationship was so strained that it was pointless to contact her. They had no mother-daughter relationship.
Meanwhile, Christina Rath had been prepared to defend her mother on camera, even without Karen’s permission. Had the mayor not barged into Waterlily House and dragged the girl away, Dahlia didn’t doubt that Christina would have said whatever was necessary to make Karen look like a saint.
Dahlia closed out of the file and got up to refill her coffee cup. When she returned, she dove deep into the other files.
There was Joan the craftswoman, talking about how Paradise Valley was her chance to have the family “of her dreams.” An elderly woman named Abby Marcott declared this place her haven when she left her husband and brought her kids to town – a tale Dahlia had heard more than once before. Notes she had recorded about her talk with Leigh Ann reminded Dahlia that there were plenty of straight parents in Paradise Valley who instilled into their children the importance of accepting people’s differences. The teacher, Anita Tichenor, had offered an interview on one of the days she came by Waterlily House. She had grown up in Paradise Valley, like her best friend Sunny. She said it was a great place to grow up gay. Although she couldn’t tell Dahlia anything about nature vs. nurture. Nor did she take much stock in such debates.“My classroom is enough of a microcosm for me, anyway,”she said with a hearty laugh.
Some of the citizens had been too tight-lipped or shy to say anything substantial, but if there was one common thread in what Dahliadidget, it was that Paradise Valley allowed them to leave some of their worries behind. Not all of them, but the ones that mattered most.
No utopias. Just a nice small town that did its best.
Dahlia had failed to see it while she filmed it. Not because she didn’t care, but because she lacked the proper perspective to know what to look for and what toreallyask. These were women who felt more confident opening up to their own. More than one expressed surprise that Dahlia wasn’t queer. What was she doing there, and why did she care so much, if she wasn’t?
