by Mae Baum
“Yes, we’ve always been collectors.” His stormy eyes slid over her.
Gina shivered.
He dropped down and took both of her hands in his. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and well-read. How could I resist falling for you?”
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” she whispered, trembling.
“Nor I, you,” he said. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Heat suffused her chest and radiated into her limbs. He was so perfect. Louis washed away all the ugliness of her life with his presence. Tears pricked at her eyelids. “Me too.”
“I love you, Gina, and I want you to stay here with me always as my wife.” He pulled a small box from his jacket pocket and popped it open. An elegant diamond cupped by an antique setting intricately wrought and surrounded by smaller jewels glittered in the velvet nest.
Gina gasped. “It’s so lovely!” Her eyes blinked rapidly as her thoughts raced. She didn’t deserve this kind of happiness. “But we’re only just starting to get to know one another.”
Louis stroked her arm, and delicious trembles skidded down her nerves. “I know it seems fast,” he murmured. “But it feels right, doesn’t it?”
Gina’s head lolled back against the overstuffed chair, thoughts fleeing. “Yes…”
Louis slid the ring on her finger. “I love you.”
Staring at her hands and the enormous ring, she smiled. “I love you too, Louis.”
* * *
Gina’d barely had time to catch her breath with all the wedding plans, but she hadn’t wanted to miss her shift at the restaurant.
The heat of the kitchen swept over Gina as she clipped her sheet to the ticket holder. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. “Why are you staring at me, Sheila?”
“Girl,” Sheila said, scooting over and peering at Gina’s hand. “There’s a rock on your finger bigger than I’ve ever seen. Where’d it come from?”
Juan looked up from his receipts. “A rock?”
“Oh, it’s from Louis.” Gina glanced back and forth between Sheila and Juan. “He’s amazing!”
Sheila’s dark eyebrows drew up her forehead. “Who the heck is Lou-ee?”
Blinking, Gina frowned at them. Had she really forgotten to tell them about the most important man in her life? “He’s, um, the man from the back table.” Gina twirled in place, her skirt lifting like a cheerleader. “We’ve been seeing each other.”
“The creep?” Sheila dropped a hand on Gina’s arm. “Oh, honey.”
Shaking off Sheila’s hand, Gina frowned. Why were her friends acting this way? “He has the most amazing library.”
“You’ve been to his house?” Juan stared at her, his voice dropping into a growl.
Gina grinned. It was so sweet how protective they were of her, like family. “Of course I have. We’re engaged!”
Sheila’s mouth dropped open, and she backed toward Juan. “I think she’s ill.”
Gina raised an eyebrow. “Why are you two acting so weird? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
Sheila stared at Juan and shook her head. Then she turned back toward Gina. “We are.”
Juan grunted.
“We just think it’s kinda sudden, honey,” Sheila said.
Gina laughed. “Yeah, I did too, but…” She sighed. “Louis is irresistible.”
Sheila stared at Gina.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gina said, running over and pulling a pair of cards from her purse. “We’re getting married on Sunday. Here’re your invitations.”
“Sunday!” Sheila’s voice squeaked. “You’ve known him, what, two weeks?”
“What?” Juan asked. He stood, his stool falling over behind him. The metal rang against the linoleum floor.
Gina laughed and pressed the invitations into their hands. “I know it’s fast, but it’s just so right.” Then, she turned and danced out into the restaurant.
* * *
The night of their wedding, the stars did their best to light up the large balcony and the Atlanta skyline glowed in the background. On one side, a vine-draped archway had been set up for the ceremony, and on the other were white-clothed tables, topped with silver candelabras and white tapers clustered around a small dance floor. Across the back, Mrs. Peterson had arranged a long table with a feast of artichoke mousse puffs, miniature Reuben sandwiches, and a chocolate fountain. Gina peered around the doorway. Her mouth watered just looking at it.
She stroked the soft silk of her wedding gown. Her shoulders and arms were covered by lace sleeves and the sweetheart neckline was dotted with pearls. Gina tried not to think about how much it cost; more than she’d make in a whole year at the diner she was sure.
Tugging on the lace and pearl choker that encircled her neck, she looked out at the guests. She’d insisted on inviting only a few close friends and family and Louis had agreed. Her mother was propped against a post, wearing a black dress with trailing roses, a glass in her hand and a smile pasted across her face. Louis’s staff had done a great job at making her look somewhat presentable and possibly, Gina sniffed, halfway sober. What had she done to deserve such a man?
Sheila and Juan had come too despite their vocal misgivings. Juan wore a blue zoot suit that had seen better days, and Sheila’s pink gown flowed over her thin form. They perched nervously on the white folding chairs that had been set up for the ceremony.
Other than a couple of her college friends, the rest of the guests were Louis’s. Three couples, the men in silk suits and women in elegant gowns. They moved with unnatural grace across the balcony, ignoring her friends and speaking softly. Gina’s stomach sank. How was she ever going to fit in? She didn’t belong in Louis’s world.
Then her husband-to-be strolled onto the terrace. Gina’s heart beat faster as she watched him greet everyone with grace and kindness. Sheila blushed when he kissed her hand, and Gina giggled. Even gruff old Juan seemed charmed.
Mrs. Peterson shooed her back into her room. “The groom mustn’t see the bride before the wedding, Miss Gina.”
* * *
The ceremony was short and simple, just as they’d wanted. When the minister announced her as, “Mrs. Louis Deluce,” she almos6t missed her step on the path. Gina hadn’t thought it possible to be this happy. Louis tucked her hand under his arm and introduced her to his friends. Gina was nervous, but she didn’t seem to have any reason to be. The men kissed her hand and said they were enchanted. The women hugged her and kissed her on each cheek, welcoming her to the family.
Gina raised an eyebrow at Louis. “Family?”
Louis smiled. “Sometimes friends make better family than blood.”
Glancing over at Juan and Sheila dancing, Gina agreed. “Absolutely.”
“Let me get you some champagne,” Louis said, releasing her arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Gina watched him walk away.
“Now that’s a man,” her mother slurred, stumbling into Gina’s side. Her wine glass sloshed and red liquid dripped down Gina’s white lace-covered arm.
“Momma!” Gina cried. “My dress!”
Her mother rubbed a tiny cocktail napkin against the stain.
“Oh, leave it alone,” Gina said.
“I wanna tell you,” Momma said, gripping Gina’s arm. Her accent thickened with the drink. Momma’s bloodshot eyes met Gina’s. “You done good, baby.”
Gina sighed. “I know, Momma. He’s a good man.”
Her mother glanced around, hair sliding off her neck, where a purple and blue hand-shaped bruise discolored the skin. “An’ rich too!”
Ignoring her mother’s words, Gina stared in horror at her throat. “Who did that to you, Momma?”
“What?” Momma squinted her eyes at Gina.
Gina gripped her mother’s upper arms and shook her. “The bruise! Who did it?”
“Don’t you go talking to me like that, Missy,” Momma slurred, “when you have your own injuries.”
Sighing, Gina asked, “Wha
t are you talking about?”
“You ain’t hiding nothing with that fancy choker.” Momma crossed her arms. “You winced when he tilted yer head for the kiss.”
“You’re crazy.” Gina rubbed her neck. It had been sore, but she’d just slept on it wrong. “And drunk.”
“Too good for yer momma now that you snagged a rich one.”
“Why do I even bother?” Gina shook her head sadly. Her heart ached for her mother. Couldn’t Momma, just once, stand up for herself? “Go home, Momma.”
Motioning to the staff, Louis stepped up next to Gina. “Mr. James would be happy to call you a cab, Madam.”
Gina turned her head into Louis’s chest as the butler led her mother away. Louis murmured softly and stroked her hair. Her tears were hot against her cheeks.
The rest of the evening passed quickly. Mrs. Peterson applied some stain remover to Gina’s sleeve, and they opened presents. The best one was Louis’s gift for her—plane tickets for their honeymoon to Europe. He’d booked private evening tours of the best libraries. Gina had grinned and clapped her hands, putting her mother out of her mind. She did have a good man, and she wasn’t going to let her trailer trash mother ruin it.
The honeymoon was a blur. Louis had bought her a new wardrobe, arranged for her classes to continue online, and they flew on a private jet. Gina soon found herself adjusting to Louis’s schedule; he didn’t wake until late and stayed up most of the night.
So she slept in, feeling spoiled, ate a late breakfast, and read until he woke up. The only odd thing was that he insisted they sleep in separate beds, saying he had too long been a bachelor and didn’t sleep well with company. Still, the suites he provided her were luxurious and comfortable, and he was romantic and attentive the rest of the time. He’d been as gentle on their wedding night as she could have hoped. It was all so perfect.
As soon as the sun set, they were off and exploring the libraries and then sometimes to a late party or dinner with his fashionable friends. Gina grew more at ease with his crowd as the days passed, and Louis made sure to smooth the way when she wasn’t clear about polite protocol or the right fork to use. She appreciated his kindness more and more every day.
She’d been swept away in a fantasy, and Gina could barely keep up. The only blight on their time was the persistent headaches that plagued her. She blamed them on too much rich food and drink, and her new schedule. She found it hard to concentrate on her studies and she knew her grades were slipping. Louis insisted she eat as much red meat as she could tolerate, saying it would keep her energy up.
Despite their adventures, she was grateful when they returned home. It was time to sort out her new life. Louis introduced her to the staff. Other than Mr. James and Mrs. Peterson, there were just a few other maids and gardeners. Really, the bare minimum for a house this size, Mrs. Peterson insisted.
Louis insisted that she didn’t have to worry about a thing. Gina could continue her classes or she could play lady of the manor and spend her days reading and eating crumpets. The library was always open to her, and he showed her through dozens of rooms throughout the house that she was free to explore. He told her to feel free to invite her friends to visit or even her mother. He didn’t mind. She’d hugged him and gave him a big kiss.
Gina settled into her new life quickly, and while the headaches persisted they seemed easier to manage here at home. “Do you think I ought to see a doctor?”
Louis looked up from his book. These afternoons in the quiet library seemed to suit them both. “I thought the headaches haven’t been so bad.”
“No, not so bad,” Gina said, absently turning the pages of her book. It was a mystery, which she usually loved, but she couldn’t seem to follow the plot today. She rubbed her temple.
He stood, stretching his legs. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I have a business trip planned and will need to leave tomorrow.”
“What? So soon?” Her heart dropped.
Setting aside her book, he took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I’m going to miss you too, my love.”
Gina leaned her head against his chest. They had just been married; she had hoped they’d have more time. “How long will you be gone?”
“A month.”
She gasped. “That long? What am I going to do without you?”
He smiled. “You’ll be fine.”
She nodded, although she wasn’t as confident. Since they’d gotten back from the honeymoon, she felt like she’d lost something, some spark that her life had had before. She hadn’t even logged into her librarian classes lately. Maybe it was just the headaches.
“I have something for you,” Louis said, picking up a ring of old-fashioned keys from his desk. “These are the keys to my heart.” He pressed them into her hands.
Gina laughed and looked at the keys. Each of them was different—gold, silver, bronze, polished iron, and so on. “They’re beautiful.”
“They fit all the doors in the house, so if there’s anywhere you want to explore, just ask Mrs. Peterson, and she’ll tell you which key fits what lock.”
“Why are they locked?”
Louis shrugged. “We’re a small household and don’t use many rooms. The unused ones are locked so guests don’t get lost.”
Gina nodded.
“There’s one thing you must do for me,” Louis said, taking her hands and looking into her eyes.
“Of course, anything.”
“There’s one room I don’t wish you to explore.” Louis pulled out one of the oldest keys, an iron one on a blood-red ribbon. “You may have free rein anywhere else in the house, but do not enter this room.”
“Why?” Gina asked, her eyes gleaming. She always loved a mystery.
“That room has some old memories that I’m not quite ready to share.” Louis kissed her hands. “I will though, soon, my love.”
Gina could understand that. There was plenty of time for them to share their whole lives. If Louis needed time, she could give him time.
* * *
“This is wonderful,” Sheila said, sipping the sparkling wine.
“Thank you for coming,” Gina said. She’d been so bored since Louis had gone away. Even though Gina could go back to school, she’d continued to take classes online. She hadn’t wanted to step out of the house as if it might evaporate like a mirage. The longer Louis was away, the less sure she became that this was anything more than a dream. “I know you had concerns about Louis, but I appreciate that you’re still my friend.”
“Of course, honey, can’t let a man get between us.” Sheila chuckled. “We chicks gotta stick together.”
Gina grinned. She felt so much more grounded with Sheila here.
Sheila tripped on the patio stones and caught herself. She’d insisted on dressing up, in heels and a black dress, to have dinner with the “Lady of the Manor.”
Laughing, Gina had played along with her own fancy dress, blue taffeta with trailing ruffles that matched her eyes. Louis had presented her with a closet full of perfectly fitting clothes, all in finer fabrics than she’d ever seen. She’d never had so many new clothes, and she felt as if she were playing dress-up, as much as Sheila was.
“So what do you do for fun around here, girl?”
“Besides read?” Gina shrugged. “I’ve been exploring the house. There’re so many rooms, each more beautiful than the last.”
“Sounds good.” Sheila grinned. “Let’s go.”
Gina led Sheila to the library and pulled the keys out from behind the copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Then she and Sheila headed up to the second floor and into the west wing. “Which one do you want to check out?”
The first room Sheila chose was a bedroom decorated in shades of red including a rich mahogany four-posted bed covered with maroon bedspreads and thick red drapes. It was too dark and luxuriant for Gina’s taste, but Sheila oh’d and ah’d over every piece, stroking the fabrics between her fingers.
Sheila twirled in the hallway, her hand poi
nting through the air as she went. When she stopped, she looked at the door she pointed to and said, “That one next.”
It was a sitting room, done in white and gold. Gina liked the overstuffed gold armchair near the window, perfect for reading, and the landscape of a deep forest over the mantle.
Sheila lay on the fainting couch and draped her arm over her head. “Jeeves, bring me my Champagne!” she said dramatically.
Gina giggled.
The third door was set back into the wall. Made of heavy oak with iron latches, none of Gina’s keys fit the lock.
“Why won’t it open?” Sheila asked, her dark eyebrows pinched.
Gina shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t find the key.” The keys rattled as she flipped through them. Then she saw the red ribbon. “I wonder…”
“Wonder what?” Sheila leaned toward her, alcohol on her breath.
“There’s one room Louis asked me not to open.”
Sheila put her hand flat on the wood of the door. “Why?”
Gina shrugged. “Some memories he wasn’t ready to share.”
“Oh!” Sheila waggled her eyebrows. “You think he has an ex? I knew there was something not right about that guy.”
“Hey!” Gina glared at Sheila. “He’s my husband.”
A guilty look flitted across Sheila’s face. “Sorry, honey.”
Gina sighed.
“Yeow!” Sheila yanked her hand away from the door. “It’s freezing.”
“It’s a door,” Gina said. “How can it be cold?”
Gina reached out and laid her hand on the wood. It was cold. A shiver trailed down her hand toward her shoulder. That is creepy. Butterflies whirled in her stomach, and she dropped her hand. Backing away, she pulled Sheila along.
“Aren’t you gonna open it?” Sheila asked.
Gina shook her head. “Come on, let’s choose again.”
* * *
Night after night, Gina dreamed of the icy door. She opened it again and again but she couldn’t see what lay beyond it. The darkness was too deep. Her white nightgown billowed around her as she stood there and shivered.
She wanted to go and open it, dispel all her fears, but she’d promised Louis. He’d been nothing but good to her. How could she betray his one request?