Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Carol heard a ping of a phone and thought it was hers. Others seemed to as well, as a few people near her fumbled in their pockets or bags for their phones. But as she glanced down at her phone Carol saw that it had nothing new on it.
Heather was reaching into her purse for her phone. She pulled it out and clearly it had been her phone making the noise as she pushed something on the screen to read whatever the text or alert was.
Heather’s mouth dropped open. She shoved the phone back into her purse and stood up hastily. Her whole demeanor seemed to change. Her face looked stricken and her eyes sort of wild. She snatched the teddy bear off the table and shoved it into her purse.
“I need to go,” she declared. “Sorry.”
Heather bolted out of the room, startling the rest of the members of the FWFFC, who all looked after her quizzically. Carol watched Heather practically run through the coffee shop toward the parking lot.
“Well, oh-kaaay then, we certainly hope everything is all right,” said Chloe. “Listen, some great ideas here. Let’s wrap for the night and I’ll post on the Facebook page what our Venmo total was. We should be very proud, Faith would be very proud. This has been a super meeting.”
People began standing and collecting their items, chatting with each other and shaking hands. Carol wanted to try and pin down Steve for more info. She walked back over to him.
“We were interrupted,” she said. “I think I was asking if you ever heard from Faith again Friday night.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “But Faith and I were in love, deep love. Look…”
He took a string bag off his back and pulled it open, reaching in and producing two pieces of paper.
“I brought these to prove it to all of you.”
Glancing down, she saw an autographed photo of Faith, exactly like the picture Olivia had procured for Carol, and a handwritten note.
Reading both, Carol was surprised to see that Faith had said some rather nice, and very flirty, things to Steve.
Maybe they were boyfriend and girlfriend.
But then something caught Carol’s eye. She squinted and said, “May I see these more closely, Steve?”
“Sure.” He shoved them her way and Carol looked each over carefully.
The thing that stood out, as obvious as could be, was that the handwriting was not the same as the writing on the autographed picture of Faith Olivia had given Carol.
Not even close. Whereas the writing on Carol’s autograph was tall, bold, and easy to read, this was slanted and very curlicued.
The signature was not close either. The one Carol had utilized a giant F and smaller a, i, t, and h.
This one was almost the opposite. The F was small and the other letters seemed to get larger with each one.
Carol wondered if Steve had written this himself or gotten someone else to write it.
She wasn’t sure, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show this to Olivia. Quickly, she scrambled for an idea.
“Steve, these are so beautiful, the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I’m such a huge fan of Faith’s. Would you mind if I took pictures of these just to have and hold on to, to remind myself how special she was?”
Carol looked at him expectantly. Steve didn’t respond at first and had an uncertain look on his face, so Carol doubled down with a comment she had a feeling might resonate with him.
“This would remind me of the incredible love you and Faith shared, and of your devastating loss. No one has suffered a loss quite like yours.”
With that he nodded and said she could take a picture. Carol put the picture and note on the table closest to them and quickly snapped two photos, then handed the items back.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will cherish these. Have a good day now. And thank you for loving Faith so much.”
“Yeah, OK, see you,” Steve replied.
Carol walked out. She felt good that she had donated fifty dollars, the most she felt she and Jim could afford right now, and she felt good that the FWFFC was finding ways to honor that poor precious and innocent baby.
She had new info to share with Olivia about one of the possible suspects plus his weird autographed photo and letter.
But as she got to her car a different thought came into her head: the moment when Heather had stood up and thrown Mr. Bojangles into her purse, dashing off so hastily for reasons only she knew.
Heather had seemed to morph into a very different-looking, and -sounding, person.
Her voice got deeper and stronger and was just different from the other times she had spoken.
The nasal tone was gone. It was like an entirely new being overtook her.
Heather’s shoulders were back and not hunched, her eyes had an intensity Carol had not seen.
Her stride as she hustled to the parking lot looked different from the way she had walked with a slight limp before.
In fact, the limp seemed entirely gone. It was as if whatever text Heather got had zapped her into a new human being, and it felt unsettling in a way Carol could not properly place.