Now in White Town, she looked in her rear view mirror. She was outside the confines of her new home, but this time, was struck by the wall built around the township. Barbed wire was attached to the crest of the stones, giving the illusion that signified a prison to those people she’d known all her life. It was scary for them to think about what might be on the other side. But to her, it no longer affected her in a negative way. It suddenly represented a new start for her, a new beginning where she could make a good life for herself.
Eve smiled and patted her stomach. She had made the right decision at the hospital, she was happy, maybe better-off than she’d been in her lifetime. She was going to have this child and love it. It was innocent. That vile act of beastly aggression had nothing to do with this baby. She now saw the child in a different light, a wonderful retake on what had happened. This child was the product of Eve, just Eve.
She spotted an all-night eatery and stopped for coffee. It was there that she braved it and tried to call Claire. The idea had been nagging at her during the day, she had to try leaving a message. Claire and Rachel had been rude to her, but she still had a strong desire to understand their problem with her story. When she got a beeping sound with the number she called, she tried again. The second time, a recorded voice told her that the number didn’t exist. She tried a third time and got the voice again.
She laughed, but sounded cynical, and then became angry. She ripped Claire’s business card in two and threw it on the ground. Then, guilt took over. She wasn’t the type to throw her garbage around. She picked up both pieces and tossed them into her purse. She couldn’t believe those women. They dared to be angry with me, and it was Claire who was the fake.
She was livid.
An urge came over Eve, an overwhelming urge to find Claire and let her have a piece of her mind. She headed for D.C. in the off chance that she would find the woman in her special coffee house. Incensed, she thought, Senator, huh? Well, lady. I don’t know why this turns you on to call yourself a Senator, but you’re going to find out that I know you’re a phony.
It took nearly an hour and when she saw the Engine House No 5, she pulled over to park next to it. She walked up to the main door and tugged on its handle. It was locked. She kicked at it, then pounded her fist. “I know you’re in there, let me in!” She stepped back and gazed at the fire house, and then all around it. Her thoughts again were hearing the waitress tell her she couldn’t use the front entry. This has to be it, why won’t they let me use this door?
She turned toward the subway steps and saw the glow. Angry, she ran until she reached the ladies room in the lower level. She entered the room and waited for the door to close. “One, two, three. That should do it.” Turning the knob, it opened into her Bohemian escape.
This time when she entered the room, she immediately saw Claire sitting in her regular booth.
The waitress walked up to her on cue, and blocked her view. “Eve, good to see you.”
“Why can’t I use the front door, Donna? Tell me why!”
The woman smiled, and spoke softly to her, “You’ll know soon enough, honey. Why rush things? I’ll get you your coffee and scone. I believe they just came out of the oven.” She left Eve, exposing a bull’s-eye take of Claire.
Eve marched down the aisle and stood at the end of Claire’s table.
She didn’t think before speaking, but instead blurted out, “Claire Winslow. You are a fraud.”
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