When Autumn Leaves: A Novel (6 page)

“Now get up. That’s it. Everything is fine,” Stella said soothingly. “By the way, you have an amazing voice. It reminds me of my Mama’s porch songs. Yep, she would sing every night after dinner.” Stella drawled on distractingly as she coaxed Ellie up and out towards the door. “She’d just sing and sing her whole life out loud. It was always the last thing I would hear before I went to sleep. No matter what kind of day I had, I would hear Mama sing as she knitted or mended clothes, and I would know that everything was all right.” She took their coats and bags from the coat rack and just kept talking.
Tucker, who was following them, called out to the party, “Now everyone, we’re going to take Miss Ellie home, and we’re going to figure out what’s goin’ on. Don’t none of you worry. Just go on and enjoy yourselves.” A varied chorus of good-byes and well wishes followed the three of them out the door. The cadence of Tucker’s and Stella’s Southern accents made the whole thing seem even more surreal. Did Tennessee Williams ever write a musical?
Cat on a Hot Tin Fiddler’s Roof
? The idea made Ellie smile involuntarily, which she immediately stopped. She seemed crazy enough already.
“Where are you taking her, Stella? You want me to come?” Tucker asked sincerely.
“Aw, no, Tucker, that’s awfully sweet of you, but I think this might be girl stuff. Right, Ellie?”
“Probably,”
Ellie sang, holding onto the last note. She was no longer embarrassed, just kind of resigned and maybe a little sad that her life might be reduced to a Broadway musical.
“Ellie,” Tucker said, “I can’t pretend to understand what’s going on here, but you and I have seen weirder shit, excuse my language, happen in this town. And if it means anything to you, which all things considered right now I’m sure it doesn’t, I just want you to know, that I . . . I don’t think this is something you should be, you know, embarrassed about. I’ve always thought you were something special.”
Ellie looked at him, their eyes locked. She stepped forward, putting a hand to his face, pulled him close and softly, in the nature of a lullaby, sang him a thank you.
Suddenly the lights from every tree down Brigid’s Way were lit up in Winter Solstice colors. The crowd cheered, and Ellie knew that at that moment things were bad, but maybe not as bad as they could be.
Ellie surrendered her keys to Stella, who got into the driver’s seat and pushed it as close to the steering wheel as she could. “Don’t worry, Sugar. I’m an excellent driver.”
“Whatever. Just get me home, please,”
Ellie sang.
“Funny. I would say at least you still have your sense of humor, but I’m not even sure you had one in the first place. Did you?”
Ellie responded by rolling her eyes and giving Stella a little smile.
When they arrived at the house on Wicker Road, Ellie felt a look of complete relief settle over her features. Stella sat Ellie on the couch and lit a fire, then disappeared to the kitchen. She emerged several minutes later with a tray bearing a pot of chamomile tea and a joint. Stella handed over a cup of tea and then lit the joint, taking one long drag. She held out her hand, gesturing for Ellie to take it. Ellie shook her head.
“Aw, come on. This could help. You never know. At least you’ll relax a bit, and then the figuring out might be easier.”
Ellie tentatively took the joint from Stella’s hands, shrugged, and inhaled. She felt her spine drop down into her toes and she placed the joint in an ashtray above the mantle.
Stella was watching Ellie carefully. “Ellie, stop thinking about how this all happened, and think about why it’s happened, ’kay?” Stella’s hands waved wildly enough to land an airplane. “You think I care if you sing? Hell, sing your heart out. Maybe this is the only way everything you’ve held back has to come out. Now just tell me the first thing that pops in your head.”
Ellie didn’t know what was in her head. She looked at Stella and wanted to cry. This woman, who she always thought of as someone to simply put up with, had come through for her. She felt humbled, and stupid.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, that I haven’t been nicer to you. You’re a good person,”
she sang.
Stella cocked her head and chuckled. “Well, aren’t I the lucky one? All this going on and the first thing you think of is my feelings? I don’t think so, Ellie. It’s not that easy. By the way, you’ve always been nice to me. But this isn’t about me. This is all about you. Or maybe that’s the problem.”
Ellie squirmed in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable with her limbs. She realized she was no longer—and after tonight never again would be—invisible. Part of her felt the familiar terror sweep over her, and yet part of her was relieved to know she finally could be seen, however it had come about.
“I’m scared, Stella,”
she sang.
“Maybe this is just some Solstice fluke, but what if it never goes away? I can’t live a life like this.”
Ellie wanted to press her hands into her chest to stop it from heaving, but she knew that with the singing the gesture would seem over-the-top, so she pressed them into the couch on either side of her instead.
“I feel like promising something. Like I’ll try harder to be part of things, if this is the lesson my body is trying to teach me. But I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Ellie, what are you talking about? You’re part of things. You’re part of my life, every day.”
“No. I’m not. You and Nina and Tucker, you can see me, right? But no one else can. No one sees me. I’m not here.”
Ellie sobbed and sang all at once.
“You are here. Ellie . . . Sugar . . . you think people don’t see you? Or notice you?” Stella seemed perplexed momentarily, and then she narrowed her eyes and bit her lip. Ellie could tell Stella was thinking and connecting the dots. She knew Stella was remembering and understanding that there was something to what Ellie was saying.
“See? You know I’m right, so maybe there’s a reason why . . . why nobody really notices me. It doesn’t just happen . . . you’re born to it. So maybe I would be going against some great plan if I suddenly change who I am.”
Ellie sounded overly show-tune-y. It sang so wrong, not even she believed it.
“I hate to use a cliché here, but everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is the big plan, Ellie.” In that moment, Stella didn’t seem silly or eccentric. Ellie knew that she might believe that she was invisible, but she wouldn’t believe Ellie couldn’t be seen if she wanted to.
And wasn’t Stella right? Was this the big plan? The season had shifted. Tonight they celebrated this shift, accepting that all things change, but then eventually they end at the very place where they begin. Ellie was part of this circle. She felt a calm take hold, she smiled, and then she started to cry.
To Stella’s credit, she did not rush over to console her. She did not wrap her arms around her, as Ellie had imagined her doing just that afternoon. Instead, she walked over to her bag and pulled out her iPod. She slipped it into a set of speakers on the mantel and pressed play. The music diffused whatever was left of the situation. Who cared if Ellie sang, when Aretha Franklin was singing already? They switched the pot of tea for a heady Merlot. Then both women sang and drank and got thoroughly pissed out of their skulls, because really, what else was there to do?
Over Ellie’s winter garden, the gray sky was about to turn over. Neither one of them could remember the last time they had stayed up all night. It made them both feel ridiculously (and gloriously) young. They were drunk and high and happy. So when the doorbell rang that morning, their first reaction was to laugh. Ellie doubled over on the couch, in hoarse hysterics, her voice battered from all the singing. Stella staggered to the door, teasing Ellie that it must have been Tucker wanting some early morning luvin’. But when she opened it, Autumn Avening was on the other side, looking far better than anyone had a right to at that time of day.
“Hello, Stella. I just thought I’d come round, check on Ellie. Hope that’s okay?”
Stella blinked and nodded, stepping away so Autumn could come through.
“Come in . . . come in . . . come oooon in,”
Ellie sang.
Autumn gave her an appraising look. Perhaps getting Ellie shit-faced would not have been her approach to the problem, but she didn’t seem to disapprove, either. Autumn had heard, through various sources, what had transpired with Ellie Penhaligan the night before. She had also heard . . . what Ellie could do. Why she hadn’t known of her skill before this was unsurprising—invisibility is a tricky sort of gift. And Autumn had so many people to look after in Avening, it was hardly surprising that the one person she would have actual difficulty looking at would slip through the cracks. At least now she understood why Ellie was on the list.
At that moment, however, Ellie was noticeably . . . present. Autumn touched Stella’s arm and Stella stood back, knowing she was totally outranked.
“Ellie, dear . . . Stand up for me, please.”
Ellie wasn’t sure why Autumn was in her house. And truthfully, she was a little too buzzed to really care all that much. The whole night had been too bizarre anyhow. So she stood, swaying a little and squinting one eye. Autumn crossed her arms and examined Ellie from head to toe.
“Ellie, those are lovely shoes.”
“Thank you!”
Ellie sang.
“And you and you and you . . .”
How naturally it became the
Sound of Music
number!
“Are they Justy Bluehorn’s work, by any chance?”
Ellie paused. She had forgotten that she was even wearing them, they were so comfortable. She opened her mouth to answer yes, but she decided to nod instead.
“Take them off, will you, please?” Autumn asked this the same way that she would have asked a child. Ellie complied easily enough. “Now speak,” Autumn ordered.
“What would you like me to . . . oh! I’m not singing. I’m cured!” Ellie leapt up, thrilled.
“Justy Bluehorn is a cheeky bastard. Ah well, I suppose he’s done some good. You are . . . better? Right, Ellie?”
“I guess. I don’t know. I just . . . I have this problem,” Ellie heard herself saying. Here she was with the town witch standing in her living room the day after Winter Solstice. If there was ever a time to get it off her chest, it was now. “I mean, at least I think I have this problem. This will sound crazy, Autumn, but I’m pretty sure that I can make myself . . . Or maybe I just am—”
Before Ellie could continue, Autumn cut her off. “I know, Ellie, I know. And we’ll have to work on that, but it’s not important. I mean, it is important, but not right now. Things have changed for you. They’ll be easier now, or possibly more complicated, but . . . well. Just know that for the time being, you’ll have a much better handle on . . . your ability.”
Ellie’s head swam. She felt drunk again on Autumn’s words. But then again, maybe her fatigue was messing with her. She stood there, with her mouth half open, feeling like an idiot, like she should be asking a million questions but was unable to form them.
“Right, well. I’d best be going. You two need some sleep.” Autumn might have read Ellie’s mind. She turned and headed for the door, but before she opened it, she turned again. “It’s really not my business to say, Ellie, but . . . Nina Bruno . . . is she a friend of yours?”
“I think so,” Ellie said, remembering Nina’s reaction at the party.
“She’s so very pretty, isn’t she? Beautiful, really. That perfect skin, those long legs. And that hair! It’s so black. Black as a raven’s feather, that’s what my mother used to say. Do you know, Ellie, what a group of ravens is called?”
Ellie shook her head, unable to tell where this was going.
“It’s called an Unkindness. Isn’t that strange? An Unkindness. Well . . . it’s something to think about. And by the way, both of you should enter my contest. Goodbye.” The door slammed and the two left behind jumped at little at the sudden noise.
Autumn thought about what had really happened on her drive home. There were three women in that circle (literally and figuratively, all three worked at the
Avening Circle
). Two were on Autumn’s list, one was not. But Autumn had a pretty good theory as to why.
Stella had handled Ellie’s extraordinary situation exceptionally well. It was odd that Stella had steered clear of Autumn before now, considering what Stella was and her odd refusal to embrace it. When Autumn looked past the horrible clothes and the grocery list of everything else that made Stella so unappealing, she could recognize the amazing potential there. But could she, or anyone else, look beyond what they saw or felt?
Autumn stopped the car at a light, dismissing her doubt, because her mind was already made up. Stella had been brilliant with Ellie. She was in the running, for now.
Ellie Penhaligan was more of a problem. Autumn knew what she was and knew what she could do, but just because she had talent didn’t mean she was right for the job, especially given her temperament. Still, Autumn couldn’t dismiss the gift. It was strong.

Other books

And Then Things Fall Apart by Arlaina Tibensky
French Passion by Briskin, Jacqueline;
Back to Reality by Danielle Allen
Aftershocks by Nancy Warren
Paperweight by Meg Haston