A Matter of Ownership

A Matter of Ownership


Glynna stood in the open doorway of her guestroom amazed at the chaos

inside.  Everything Joanna brought was unpacked and scattered around-

which in itself was of no consequence - but everything looked so new, she

half expected to see tags still hanging off each item.

Her words on the phone, "I'm just going to throw a few things into a bag and

come down. I'm not in any shape to see anyone. I just want to be alone and

quiet. Don't plan anything for me." seemed unattached to this display.

Glossy stilettos, exquisite boots, plaid chiffon and embroidered velvet were

tossed on the bed. An evening bag hung from a bedpost. Twill trousers and

silk shantung in a silvery color were heaped on a chair.

    She turned away, feeling as though she'd been tricked into something.

Those clothes were definitely not faded jeans and old loafers. Joanne surely

wasn't wearing chiffon or velvet to hide out in the bedroom, or sit reading

in the yard.

She wanted to talk to her old friend and soon but she would have to wait.

She repeated her mantra, "this doesn't belong to me." Meaning Joanne's

emotions, needs, expectations-the whole mass of feelings that had brought

her to Glynna's home.

As she reached her own room, she discovered Joanna's long haired cat

nestled in the center of her bed. She laughed ruefully and scooted the

cat away. Smoothing her coverlet again, she looked at the cat hairs left

behind and muttered "some of it does belong to me, damn it."

She had a pot of chicken soup simmering on the stove. Delicious smells

from the kitchen had begun to waft through the house. She'd planned a

casual dinner of comfort food - crusty warm bread, thickly sliced ham,

garden tomatoes and lettuce for sandwiches, a perfectly seasoned soup,

coffee and later, some brandy with a plate of thin crispy cookies, lacey and

sweet.

Joanna had left the house early after emptying her bags, saying she had a

quick errand. That was midmorning. It was nearly evening. Glynna ate

alone. She wrapped everything and put it in the refrigerator, all the while

wondering if Joanna was safe If she started calling around to hospitals or

the police it could definitely signal the publicity Joanna had clearly wanted

to avoid. Her instinct told her Joanna was safe. She hoped she was right. If

there had been an accident, she'd never forgive herself for having done

nothing.

She felt disappointed and annoyed, at Joanna's absence all day. Certain that

she'd just been browsing at the village shops, or had run into a friend or a

fan and got caught up talking, or whatever- she had asked to come, Glynna

was happy to offer the hospitality and comfort that was asked of her.

She'd had to make a few adjustments to her own schedule but she didn't

mind. No one had asked her to cancel plans-so she was wrong she reminded

herself, for feeling put out.

As the evening wore on, empty, because she'd cleared the time, she worried

and talked herself out of worrying, and worried again.  Finally, appalled at

the lateness and furious at herself for not acting sooner, she was looking

up the police non-emergency number in the phone book when Joanna came

home.

She was knocking and calling out- "hey, I'm locked out," and laughing.

Glynna answered the door to a disheveled and giggling woman and a man-

both apparently quite drunk, Joanna falling toward the door and righting

herself. "This's Paul, old friend" Joanna attempted an introduction, "This

Glynna"

"Goodnight Paul" Glynna said.

"No! No, he's staying, he's gonna stay tonight. I can't be alone.. Paul's an"

old old -"

"Sorry" Glynna said, her hand up to ward Paul off, while she shook her head

no.


"When'd djubecome suchabitch?"

"I really am not comfortable wi-" Glynna began patiently.

"Paul! There's house rules. Less go ta your place."

Joanne was having trouble standing up. Holding the doorframe for support.

Glynna caught the look of alarm on Paul's face, and laughed, "I don't think

his wife would like that, would she, Paul?"

"I'm a gentleman, I- wouldn't do anything- I respect  uh- don't tell her,

Don't say anything, kay? G'night. G'night"

She closed the door. Joanna started to lose her balance when her ankle

weakened, but caught herself and entered the living room. Lighting a

cigarette she dropped into a chair, and the cigarette dropped onto the rug.

Glynna felt like someone's warden. She hated smoking in her house, quickly

retrieved the cigarette, and glanced at Joanna, who was falling asleep in the

chair.

"Does not belong to me" Glynna muttered as she bent to retrieve the

cigarette. Her ivory carpet now had a black line burned into it.

She wanted so much to pack Joanna off to a motel, where she could smoke

in bed, have over all the men she wanted, throw things around and spend the

whole time drunk- but, she reminded herself, if that was what her friend

needed or wanted she could have arranged just such a thing. She wanted to

come here. And Glynna had of course welcomed her.

"D'ju take my cig'ret?"

"You finished it."  Regretting her scolding tone, Glynna softened, saying

"You look worn out, How 'bout I help you up to bed?"

"Yeah, alright" Joanna pushed to her feet. "Piss'd at me?"

"We'll talk in the morning"

"We'll talk- we'll say Bye bye"

She added, muttering, "Shdna come here."

Glynna stayed behind Joanna, to catch her if she stumbled but she didn't

want to have to help her at all.
                                      ********



She'd originally intended to make popovers for breakfast but after the

sleepless night she'd spent, she decided coffee was as much hospitality as

she felt like providing. Joanna slept until well into the afternoon. Glynna

hung out in the kitchen for the first hour or two, anticipating Joanna's

arrival.

She thought of going to the post office, or the library but knowing that

Joanna would probably wake up, burn something with another reckless

cigarette, get drunk again and possibly repeat all of yesterday's performance,

she stayed home.  Not wanting to get caught in the act, she listened for

footsteps while she carefully snipped the burned fibers out of her carpet

using manicure scissors. Joanna did not walk in on that act. Nor did she

appear in the kitchen that morning. Afternoon began. Glynna made a

sandwich and ate it over the sink. She cleaned her bathroom, laundered her

coverlet and then vacuumed. The sun was well across the sky when at last

she heard water running in the upstairs bathroom. She went into the kitchen

and put on a fresh pot of coffee.

"Is this how you spend your life, putzing around the house all day, all

night?" Joanna greeted her. She looked fabulous, her long blond hair

brushed off her face and curling against her shoulders, her snow white pants

perfectly creased and  her sleeveless silk blouse, a flawless fit. Glynna

sighed trying to relax the corners of her mouth and refrain from the  irritated

response that rose in her throat.

She handed a cup of coffee to Joanna, who was seated at the table. "I think 

It would be better if you made other arrangements." she said.

"What? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm not up for all this. And I'm sure you are used to-"

"What?  Getting kicked out?- I am not used to it. I had no idea you've

become such a nasty bitter person."

"Well, that's just it, I am, right now, and I don't want to be feeling like this."

"Fine, I'll go."Joanne said it but sat still, holding her cup with both hands.

Glynna had felt angry, but the anger died abruptly.  She felt like she had

become her mother- who was often coldly furious, and usually over trivial

matters.

Joanna spoke. "I told you I was in trouble. I told you I needed someplace

safe and private to just hang out. I didn't ask any more of you than that."

"Its my home." Glynna explained quietly.

"You thought I'd come here and cry on your shoulder and you'd comfort me

and give me advice and you were glad to do it, right? Because-you'd feel so"

"Stop. This is ghastly. I do want you to leave."

"Please don't-"Joanne's tone had changed, "I can't bear this alone."

She continued, "I was acting out last night, I realize it, and I am sorry. - do

you have any cream, or half and half?"

"Öh  I have milk."

"Skim, right?"

"Yeah- it"

"Black is good, black is okay. Thanks anyway." She looked like she was

trying to smile.

"Yesterday- I wasn't ready to tell you- and I just wanted to be away by

myself for  I don't know- an hour, and then I wanted to be around people

but not to talk. I knew we'd end up talking and - I just couldn't. I went to a

bar, it was dead, then people came in and by then I'd had too much to drink

and - I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry."

"We don't have to talk- I didn't feel a need to -"

"I'm dying."

"what?"

"I'm dying." Joanna's face was blank, she was looking straight at Glynna.

Glynna looked at her, unable to respond. Joanna lowered her gaze, carefully

placed her coffee cup on the table, took a deep breath and began. "It's a rare

form of leukemia, and nothing can be done. I have a few weeks."

"This isn't possible."

"I didn't want to read about it in the tabloids, or for anyone else to, either. I

had to be released from the film I was doing, they have to reshoot all my

scenes, - the insurance is claiming it was a pre-existing so they want me to

repay the company, and I had to break my engagement to Tony, I could not

tell him why. Ye gods, he'd be all Love Story and no- I just wanted to be

somewhere normal. I don't want sympathy, and I don't need a caretaker, I

just wanted normalcy."

"I wish you had - I'm so sorry, I "

"I know. I know you, Glyn. I know- and I didn't want to tell you- and yet, I

didn't know quite- I just thought I'd be able to trust myself to come here

and  just visit awhile, just sit in your garden and chat with you about your

day, and be here when friends drop in, or go shopping with you. That kind of

thing. But now you know, and I wish I hadn't told you. I've got to get out of

here. This is crap. Crap. Crap!" she got up abruptly.

"Joanna, You can't do this. You can't tell me  this and then walk out. Let me

take it in, let me try. You can have exactly what you wanted."

Do you really think so- no  maudlin conversations, no sorrowful looks?"

"Honestly, Joanna."

"I'm serious."

"So am I- If you can deal with it, so can I. You're the one its happening to."

"You're my best friend. The only one I really trust, and yet -well, this- You

amaze me."

"Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

Glynna rose from her chair. " breakfast or lunch?"

"Lunch is good. Its timely. Practically late enough to have supper, for that

matter. Should I order a pizza?"

Glynna laughed, "Ï can fix a ham sandwich for you."

"Sounds perfect. Can I doctor this with something?"she motioned to her

coffee. "I've been offered  all kinds of drugs, but I'd just as soon  have a

drink when I feel raw like I do."

"What would you like?"

"Got some brandy I can put in this?"

"Yes, " Glynna went to the living room to get the bottle, but had an uneasy

feeling she tried to get rid of.

Drunkenness pushed her buttons. She couldn't fully understand her extreme

dislike of drunks. But it was a deep aversion. Now she was bringing  her

friend a drink - but then again that's the cure for a hangover, isn't it? And

anyway, she kept liquor in the house. And anyway it was almost dinnertime.

She was still struggling with her feelings as she returned to the kitchen.

Forcing a smile she handed Joanna the bottle.

"Would you like to do anything special this evening? "  Glynna asked.

"What would you be doing if I wasn't here?"

"Got a guy?"

"Yeah" Glynna smiled. "He'd be coming over."

"Why don't you call him. I can hole up-"

"when I said I wanted to keep a couple of evenings free, he took a buddy's

shift- so he's working tonight."

The phone rang, and Joanna quickly said, "if its for me, you haven't seen

me. Please."

"Hello? Yes, no- she doesn't take calls at this number. No, I haven't seen

her. Alright, I don't expect to. Alright, yes, I will. Good bye."  Glynna said,

"That  was someone named Michael Jeffries, he said if you were here, you

need to call him right away."

"I will call him but not right away. Otherwise he'll know I'm here.  I'm

always trying to dodge the press, and well-"

"I understand."

"People will lie, they'll say anything to get a story. Anything. "

The phone rang again. The two women exchanged a look of exasperation.

It was for Glynna, though, and while she talked Joanna picked at her

sandwich, got up and wandered outside.

She was standing at the edge of a small herb patch when Glynna  came out

to join her.

"What's in  there?" Joanna motioned toward the small cottage in the back.

"My studio." Glynna replied.

"Yeah- working on anything these days?"

"a teen graphic. Doing the ink."

"Like anime- in still?"

Glynna laughed. "Putting classics in a hotted up comic book format- called a

teen graphic. Its for adolescent girls- a modern imagery for-"

"Druggie lit?"

"No, no-its not like that, its-"

"I'm out of smokes. I'm gonna run out and get some. Need anything?"

"Whatever you take in your coffee."

"Oh good memory" Joanna tossed the contents of her cup and headed back

to the kitchen.  Glynna stood a minute or two longer at the garden's edge

and then returned to the house. Joanna's car was pulling away  from the

driveway. Glynna wondered if she'd be back soon, or if she was going to be

out for the evening, now. She sat down in the living room, watching the

shadows closing in. she tried to meditate, tried to rid herself of the depressed 

frustration she was feeling. How does it feel, she wondered, to know that

you are dying. That there's nothing new to start, no point, no friendship, no

love- is getting drunk over and over really the answer?  I guess it's a way of

coping, but what did she hope to find here?  Normalcy she said. Well, she

doesn't hang in for any kind of conversation- she's jumpy and - it must be

hell.

When an hour had passed she knew that she would not see Joanna until very

late. She  went upstairs and drew a bath for herself.

She slipped into the hot scented water and rubbed soap against the

washcloth. I don't know what to say to her, or how to be with her, I don't

feel welcome to go along with her, and I'm glad she didn't ask and yet-

I don't know what she wants from me. How would I feel if the doctor said

that to me, no cure, no time- I don't know that I would drop in at a friend's

house and go off to bars each evening, come home plastered. That doesn't-

the doorbell sounded. She dried quickly and pulled on a robe, certain to see

Joanna, locked out again, and maybe this time, upset about it. Should give

her a key, she thought.

But it was Rick standing there. In uniform. "This is a surprise."

"Glyn" he looked serious, "Your friend arrive?" Glynna stared at him.

He must know she'd arrived, he was surely here with some horrible news.

"Rick- don't tell me."

"Movie star?"

"Is she alright, is she-?"Glynna backed into a chair,  and sat.

"we gotta talk."

"I got a call in a D&D drunk and disorderly, and  I went in , she's  in bad

shape, and she was- well, at a table with a guy- and anyhow, I tried to get

her to come with me quietly, I'd a brought her here, but she made a run for

her car, and  I ended up taking her in. I ran her license. There's a warrant.

How much do you know about what 's going on with her?"

"I don't know about a warrant- but she is very ill- she told me in

confidence."

"She tell you she was court ordered to rehab?"

"Rehab?"

"You don't know, do you?"

"Not about rehab-"

"She slipped away. I have to send her back, she may end up with jail time."

"where is she now?"

"Ïn lock up"

"So what happens now?"

"They'll send someone to escort her back up there. We'll be holding her

until then."

"Rick, she said she was dying. She has leukemia- some rare form."

"Take a look through her stuff, see if there are any prescription bottles, get

the name of a doctor. If she's that sick, her doctor should be aware of what

she's doing."

Glynna stared at him a long time.Slowly taking a deep breath , she got up

from the chair. She did not want to go into Joanna's room, or touch her

belongings.


She did not want to be a part of this at all. She felt a deep resentment at

Rick, at the law and ashamed somehow of being here instead of with her

friend. She felt confused. She knew she'd spent the last 48 hours stewing

and mentally raging against Joanna, but now, the thought that she was in

jail, was being shipped to another jail, was forced into rehab- it all seemed

wrong and Joanna seemed forlorn and helpless.

"Rick, I'm sorry, I wonder if you'd mind just leaving?"

"What?"

"I- I don't feel so well right now, I need-please, its not a law thing- going

through her stuff, is it, its not -"

"Glyn-honey-"

"Please Rick, let me be."

"I should have been easier on you- I thought you were hiding her, I thought

you knew, I was angry, you didn't know I saw that, I am so sorry I just"

"Rick, please, I really need to be alone. Please."

"Try to locate her doctor, if she has one."

"Can I just ask her?"

"She's drunk out of her mind. Ask her tomorrow."

"Okay"

"You gonna be okay?"
"Ï'm okay."

"Call me when you feel better, I'll be at the station."

"I will."

She sat down in the living room after he was gone. Her mind was blank. She

had come to the door soaking wet, with her robe pulled on quickly, and she

was still wet- and the robe was sticking to her skin. She got up and went

back upstairs. She would dry, get ready for bed, and  hang up the clothes in

Joanne's bedroom. Suddenly she remembered the cat. Neither of them had

prepared a box, a bowl of water, a dish of food. Where was the cat?

She went into Joanna's room. The meowing was faint. She opened the closet

door.  An ermine coat was in aheap on the floor. Ermine in summer? Why

had she brought ermine? It was chewed apart in places, and rank with cat

urine. And tags hung from the sleeve. She folded the coat inside out, and put

it back on the floor of the closet. The cat had darted past her when she'd

opened the door. 

She  followed the cat out of the bedroom and  tried to pick it up. The cat

clawed her arm.  This cat had never been to a groomer. It had fleas and

earmites, its claws were never trimmed. She took the struggling animal to

the kitchen and filling a bowl with water, set it down to drink. She opened a

can of tuna to feed it.  After it ate, she opened the back door, and let it out.

Joanna  escaped whatever place she'd been in, stopped somewhere and

bought whatever she saw that would amount to clothing and grabbed the cat

off the street and came here.  Everything on impulse. The phone call was a

lie. She went upstairs, with a large plastic bag, for the coat. The price tag

was twice the cost of her car, new. She poured peroxide over the scratch

before going back into Joanna's room. 

She carefully picked up everything, and carefully hung it all on hangers. The

evening bag had tissue in it. The suitcase, the make up overnight bag,

everything she'd brought was purchased on the way.

Glynna felt used. There was no prescription bottle nor were there any pills.

She did find a baggie with some marijuana, a small vial with traces of

white- probably cocaine, and that was it.

She went downstairs. There was a place in the city that would clean the coat.

She'd leave everything in place until Joanna was free for real to pick it up.

She was sure some guard or whatever would be helping herself to it all

otherwise. She wondered who Michael Jeffries was. She wondered what the

truth was.

"This does not belong to me." she said softly. "None of it belongs to me."

                                                    The end