Some New FOL Fiction
Title: The Return
Rating: PG
Authors Note: Hi guys, it has been a while. This 8000 word story is a different universe than my other FOL stories (although, really, how different can Jo/Blair be?) . I started this for Ralst's IDFS Alternate Universe Challenge back in July, but real life and a new job intruded. It is a "What If?" story, namely,what if Blair had accepted Cliff's proposal in Dream Marriage and what if Natalie had won the election for Mayor of Peekskill in the Candidate. In addition, the story assumes familiarity with the FOL Episode Graduation and Homer's epic poem, the Odyssey. So there you go.
It‘s a beautiful sunset. I‘m on my porch, looking out over the Hudson, a nice glass of sauvignon blanc in my hand. Classy, no? It used to be Bud and maybe on a special occasion, a Michelob. Lately, things have gotten, I don’t know, a little more upscale. But there’s something that ruining the scene, disturbing my peace if you will. ”OK Zelda,” I addressed my cat. “Do your thing.” Zelda, with her weird, half black-half white face, like that racial harmony episode of Star Trek, gave me a disdainful look and then leapt and devoured the spider in one gulp. “Good on ya,” I toasted the cat. A little Australian slang, left over from Pippa. Funny, back in the Bronx, roaches the size of Montana never bothered me. But these country spiders. Ick. Oh well. I looked back over the river. Spider. It brought me back. Was that the beginning? Maybe so. I guess it started with Natalie’s phone call.
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“The Mayor’s on the phone, Chief.”
Grinning, I picked up the instrument. “Your Excellency.”
“Commandante. You up for dinner tonight?”
“Sure, unless it’s another set-up.”
“Well...”
“I mean it Nat. No more surprises. I still have nightmares about the tattoo artist from Poughkeepsie.”
“I just thought she would have an appreciation of the female form,” Natalie said defensively. “Drawing all over those Vassar women. She must have had expertise.”
“She had a gigantic spider on her shoulder blade. You know I hate spiders. It freaked me out.”
“All right, Jo, not one of my better efforts, I admit. Anyway, no setups tonight. Just you, me, Tootie and Mrs. G.”
“Where’re Snake and the kids?”
“They’re in Jersey, visiting the Reptile.” Natalie’s name for her mother-in-law, whom she pretended to loath, yet really adored.
“OK. Sounds good.”
“Yeah. Mrs. Garrett said she had some news.”
“She usually does.”
Edna Garrett, headmistress, no, what did they call it now, Head of School of Eastland, kept her ear to the ground. She didn’t like idle gossip and would never rat her students out, but if she felt that there was something that Jo Polniaczek, Peekskill’s Chief of Police, should know, she would drop me a serious hint. Like she’d done since the day we met, she looked out for me.
So, a couple hours later, I said goodbye to Sergeant Ziaukes, and headed out to the Mayor’s mansion. Actually a rambling Victorian a few blocks from downtown. To save the good people of Peekskill a few bucks, Natalie had convinced Snake and me to do the renovations pro bono. We‘d done a good job, if I do say so myself.
“Hey, Jo.” The cheerful voice of Tootie, also known as Dorothy, Ramsey-Williams greeted me from the door. “Everyone’s out back. Mrs. Garrett’s grilling her special flank steak.”
“Nice,” I replied, walking in and giving Tootie a friendly arm around the shoulder. “How are you?” Now I’m not normally a touchy feely kind of gal, but Tootie usually gets a hug or a pat on the back. She just seems to deserve it. And ever since she lost her husband, Jeff, to a sudden heart attack a few years ago, we’ve all tried to be, I don’t know, just a little more affectionate.
“Really well. Tisha has a sleepover so its girls’ night out. Did you listen to the show today?”
“Sure. Your fashion tips to the cross dresser were instructive-although I’m not sure that’s why he called in.” Tootie had, temporarily she said, traded in her Broadway career for a gig as a host of a local radio talk show. She was really good at it; it paid well, and the hours were perfect for a single mother with a five year old kid. Ibsen could wait until Tisha was old enough for Eastland, Tootie maintained. For now, she liked being there when her daughter got home from kindergarten.
“Oh please,” Tootie laughed. “Gender identity issues are old hat. Letting him know that there’s a great lingerie sale at the Tarrytown mall. Now that’s useful advice.”
“So it is,” I agreed, as we walked through the house into the spacious back yard, where two figures were gathered around the grill.
“Hello Jo,” Mrs. Garrett said, waving her spatula in greeting.
“Hey, Mrs. G. The steaks smell great.”
“Yo, Jo, whaddya know?” Natalie interjected. “How’re the mean streets of Peekskill?”
“Some kids rearranged the letters on the movie marquee. That’s about it.”
“Something obscene?” Nat asked hopefully
“Nah. It just said Go Lions.”
“Pathetic,” Natalie replied. “Youth today, no imagination.”
“Honestly, Natalie,” Mrs. G put in. “One would assume that, as Mayor, you would be happy that things are peaceful.”
“I suppose. But everything is too calm. I need to spice things up before the next election. Snake vetoed the sex scandal angle.”
“I assume you’re kidding,” I laughed, shaking my head. Natalie Greene, Mayor. Even after almost eight years it was still hard to believe. She had run as a twenty year old on a dare. And then, shockingly, won. And, maybe not as shockingly, proceeded to do a great job. While other old Hudson valley manufacturing towns had declined, downtowns emptied in favor of box stores and mega-malls, Natalie‘s administration had re-energized Peekskill, in part by reaching out to homosexuals. Bring in the gays, she said, and the restaurants, art galleries, and antique stores will follow. Even the staunchest Republicans got on board as the tourist trade tripled and real estate boomed. The fact that she recruited an openly lesbian cop from the Bronx to become her police chief sorta helped. Bashers tended to avoid our town. Not that Mayor Greene didn’t have other fans as well. The soccer moms loved her twin boys, and the blue collar guys dug that she was married to a scary trucker named Snake. All told, Nat was a shoe- in for a third term and there was talk of her running for governor someday.
“OK, the steaks are done. Let’s eat.” Mrs. Garrett guided us to the picnic table. I looked around with a smile. It was all good. Like Tootie predicted all those years ago, here we all were, on a beautiful summer evening, still obeying our mentor’s order to dig in. “So Mrs. G, what’s the news?” I mumbled with my mouth full.
“I heard from Blair today. She’s coming to Peekskill. She’ll be here Friday.”
The steak caught in my throat and I started to gag. Coughing hard, I expelled the meat. All good? Not any more.
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“Blair, here, Friday? Are you sure?” Natalie exclaimed.
“That’s wonderful!” Tootie cried. “I can’t wait to see her.”
“How, why?” I choked out.
“How? By car or train, I imagine. Why? To see us, of course,” Mrs. Garrett replied.
“Blair in Peekskill. What has it been? Ten years?” Nat mused.
“Nine years, five months and six days,” I blurted out. The others looked at me oddly.
“Well this’ll be great,” Nat enthused. “Maybe I’ll declare Friday a town holiday. Blair Warner Winfield day. She’d definitely go for that.”
“I’ll have her on the show,” Tootie declared. “Glamorous heiress returns to her old haunts. What’s changed; what hasn’t. Can you really go home again?”
“And I can finally show her the new science lab,” Mrs. Garrett added happily. “After all, she did pay for it.”
“Wait a minute,” I sputtered. “That’s it? You’re going to welcome her back with open arms. Just like that?”
“Why not?” Tootie asked.
“Why not? Because she left, got married and then basically forgot about us, except for those revolting Christmas letters. She never visits, never calls. She even blew off our Eastland reunion. It’s like we don’t exist for her.”
“Well I don’t know about that,” Natalie pointed out. “She’s made some pretty hefty donations to my campaigns over the years.”
“And you can’t fault her support of Eastland. I’m pretty sure her influence was one reason I got the job as head of school,” Mrs. Garrett declared.
“Yeah, she’s great with the checks; it’s actually being there that the problem.”
“That isn’t really fair, Jo,” Tootie said quietly. “She came to Jeff’s funeral.”
I winced. Nice move, reminding her of that. Blair had suddenly appeared at the service in New York City even though she hadn’t known Jeff all that well. But we were all so crazed with grief and concern for Tootie and Tisha that it was a blur. She didn’t stay for the wake. She didn’t want to intrude, she said. It was the last time any of us had seen her.
I shrugged. “OK fine. If you all want to go all gooey over Mrs. - Dr. Cliff Winfield coming into town, feel free. Just don’t expect me to join the Princess Blair fan club.”
“All right Jo,” Mrs. G. said in a pacifying tone. “No reason to get agitated. Just be polite to her, that’s all I ask.”
“Jo, Blair, polite? Now that I‘d pay to see,” Natalie scoffed.
“I can if I have to. I’ll be polite, icily polite.”
Mrs. Garrett gave me a knowing smile. “OK, then. Now save room for dessert. I brought my special cheesecake.”
“Wicked wicked woman,” Natalie declared with a laugh. “Bring it on.”
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“You have to forgive her sometime, you know.” Mrs. Garrett said, staring out the passenger window of my Subaru. I was giving her a lift back to the school after dinner.
“Forgive who, for what?” I asked, gripping the wheel and staring stonily ahead
“Forgive Blair, for leaving.”
“Forgive her? I should thank her. She was the most annoying roommate alive. And the three of us got on just fine afterwards.”
“I suppose, but you missed her. We all did.”
“She got married; she moved on. That happens.”
“She did make a clean break,” Mrs. Garrett mused. “It was surprising. You two were so close.”
“Close? What were you smoking, Mrs. G? Anyway, I guess Blair re-evaluated things after my little bombshell. Maybe learning that her ex-roomie was a dyke scared her off.”
“You know I don’t like that term, Jo. And that can’t be it. Blair always thought you might be gay. She even asked me about it.”
“What?!?” I nearly swerved off the road. “When?!?”
“Oh, I don’t remember. Early on. Maybe your second year at Eastland.”
“And what did you tell her?” I asked, mind boggling
“I said that I didn’t know, and that maybe you didn’t know either, but that it was a possibility. I also said if that’s who you were, we would accept it because you were family and we loved you.”
I knew all right. “Um, and what did she say to that?”
“She agreed. She said that she just hoped you could tell her if it were the case. She didn’t want you to be lonely, Jo.”
I blinked rapidly. Goddamn it. Tears? What is it with me? Hardass, Bronx bred, ex gang member but Mrs. G can choke me up at the drop of a hat. And she knows it. It drives me nuts.
“Well, you know you want to see her,” Mrs. Garrett added, handing me a Kleenex. “And maybe we can all reconnect. Wouldn’t it be terrific if we could get Blair back into our lives?”
Back into my life? She’d never left.
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