Page 75 of Passing Notes
I nodded.
“What was your stripper name?” Molly asked. Her tone implied she was intrigued and not disgusted by me. “Will you teach me some moves?”
To clarify, there was nothing wrong with stripping—for other people. I still carried huge amounts of the shame my mother had heaped on me growing up and I couldn’t seem to let it all go.
“Lavender Lane.” They were making this almost fun, but it shouldn’t be, should it?
“You named yourself after the farm!” Sadie hooted. “I love it!”
I was in shock. “This is going to come out after I tell Nick about Malcolm, and I’m mortified,” I reminded them. “Why aren’t y’all disappointed in me?”
“Why would you be mortified?” Willa questioned. “And why would we be disappointed in you? Look what you’ve accomplished.”
“Hell no, Clara.” Sadie stood and poked a finger in my face. “Do not be ashamed of what you did to survive. Be proud of it, damn it.” She had gone from joking with the rest of them to righteous indignation. “Do you think any of the women down at the Pink Pony should be mortified? Should Hannah Townsen be ashamed of herself? Hell no! She took care of her sick momma by stripping, everyone knows that. Should any of the women you worked with in Nashville be mortified? Fuck no, they shouldn’t, and neither should you. In fact, I wish I would have done it myself. They shouldn’t be embarrassed, and neither should you. Right, Clara? Are you ashamed of yourself? Are you really?”
I stood up to pace the porch. “No, I’m not ashamed of it, not at all, not really. But it’s not that simple for me, okay?” I tried to gather my thoughts so I could explain what I meant. “There’s nothing wrong with stripping. Not one thing. It’s a perfectly acceptable profession. It’s artistic. It’s athletic. It was fun. It can even be beautiful sometimes?—”
“So, it’s okay for them to do it and not for you?” Sadie scoffed. “Explain that to me, because I do not understand where you are coming from.”
“It’s more complicated than that. Don’t you remember all the shitty things everyone said about us over the years? Hillbilly trash? Worthless, slut, dumb, and good for nothing but a piece of ass. Even Willa with her scholarship to that private school heard all the same shit. And I proved everybody right, didn’t I? I turned out exactly how people said I would.”
“You did no such thing! You supported yourself. You even supported me for a while too, you dang ol’ dingbat. You put yourself through college and law school and bought a damn house in town for us all to live in when I couldn’t afford to take care of my boys on my own. Damn it, Clara. You saved my life. You did that. You, my beautiful, smart, determined, ambitious, brilliant sister.”
“And hey, you live in the nicest house on your block, and I know you paid for it outright. You never have to work again, do you?” Molly asked.
“No,” I grudgingly admitted. “I could retire right now if I wanted to. I was more interested in finance than law. Dabbling in the stock market is a fun hobby—that, and working in my yard. Becoming an attorney seemed more outwardly impressive, I guess.” I flopped back on the couch as what we were all saying sank in. “Oh god, my whole entire thought process is so fucked. I think I may have a problem.”
I looked up to find them all staring at me like it was obvious.
“You did all these things because deep down you think you’re not good enough,” Sadie stated. “The big house, the BMW... because if you’re dressed in more expensive clothes than everyone in town and your purse is worth more than the average house payment then nobody would dare call you a hillbilly, or a slut, or bring up how Daddy left Momma high and dry to raise a bunch of raggedy little girls.”
Well, crap. When you put it like that...“You might have a point?—”
“Hell yes I have a point, and it’s a good one.” Once Sadie started on a rant, it was hard to stop it, so I closed my mouth and let her go on. “You did all that so you could shut them up by threatening to sue them with your expensive law degree, or kick ’em in the shins with a Louboutin, or maybe whoop them upside the head with that little Fendi bag I’ve been coveting, am I right?”
“Yeah. I think subconsciously I had to know what I was doing,” I admitted. “Like, deep down, I know I don’t need all that stuff, but it makes me feel better to have it. You want the Fendi? You can have it.”
“Listen,” Willa cut in. “Even if you don’t need those things, you earned that money and there’s nothing wrong with spending it however you see fit.”
“Your mother was the same way,” Molly pointed out. “She cared a lot about what people thought of her. Her reputation is impeccable. Only people who cared to look closer knew about what was really going on with y’all.”
“She was determined,” Sadie agreed. “She built up the farm and created her own little empire up there. You’ve built a solid reputation for yourself too, Clara.” Her voice softened, and I knew I wasn’t going to want to hear what she said next. “But unfortunately, sugar plum, it’s a house of cards. The outside means nothing if you don’t believe in yourself.”
“Dang it, Sadie.” Tears filled my eyes. “That was too real. Was I this mean to you when you had your thing happening with Barrett?”
Her eyes shifted to the side and a sardonic half smile quirked up the right side of her face. “I almost don’t wanna answer you, but yes you were, and I’ll be grateful forever for it. What kind of sisters are we if we don’t call each other out on our bullshit?”
I sniffled back the tears threatening to fall. “That’s fair and you’re right. Maybe someday I’ll appreciate this and not want to cry.”
“We all have triggers,” Willa pointed out. “You wanted approval, didn’t you? From Momma, from people in town? And maybe even from Nick?”
“Not him. Nick never treated me like I wasn’t good enough. But his family turned into a bunch of snobs after his mom remarried, and I guess I had hoped they’d accept me someday. Or maybe I’m wrong—we kept our entire relationship a secret, didn’t we?” The tears finally spilled down my cheeks, and I brushed them away. “And it wasn’t my idea. Maybe I should forget about him. This is too hard. Especially when I can’t seem to let anything go”
“It’s always bothered you, hasn’t it?” she murmured. “That you could never be open about being with him.”
“Yeah.” My whispered admission felt like a betrayal. And it wasn’t fair to Nick since I had never spoken up about it. How could he fix a problem he never knew existed?
“Well, you are good enough, no matter what. Even if you weren’t dripping in designer stuff and living in that big-ass house, you’re good enough, Clara,” Leo insisted. “I wish you would believe in yourself like we do. You deserve to be happy. You’ve sure as hell earned it after all these years taking care of everyone except yourself.”