by J. J. Keller
“No. I’ve asked myself for the past two months why I didn’t find her immediately. Many times, I started to drive. I didn’t know where to go, but I had to do something. Anything. I’ve wanted her for so long I kept thinking it was all in my head. Maybe I’d imagined her telling me that she loved me.” He rubbed his face with his hands.
“Go see her parents then. If you find out where Shania has moved, you better go prepared. She’s going to be angry.” His father’s bits of wisdom pierced Morgan’s heart. Had Shania given up on him? Had he made a mistake by waiting?
Chapter 8
Tuesday came before Shania could catch a breath. One more week of classes and then she’d take finals. In four more days she could close out a CD and have cash. The knots in her stomach eased a little. She’d be able to provide for her son again.
She sat in front of the mirror at the makeshift desk in the tiny foyer applying make-up. Her face appeared whiter and dark circles ringed her eyes. She smoothed the fine skin around her mouth. Laugh lines. The temporary creases would become permanent if she wasn’t careful. Her mother always said, “Keep smiling, Shania, and you’ll get wrinkles before you’re twenty-five.” On Saturday, she’d officially be twenty-three and a lotion regimen would be required.
The thump of heels clomping on the hardwood floor brought her fingers, grasping the lip liner, to halt mid-line. She glanced toward the sound. Justin. His booted feet jutted out in wrong directions. Her breath caught in her throat. He was adorable. At his age he didn’t have the concept of right and left. “How do the boots feel?”
“Hurt.” He sat on the floor and tugged them off.
Shania laughed and turned back to her make-up. “For tonight only, we’ll stuff socks inside so you can wear them. If they start to fall off, I’ll carry you.”
He nodded.
“Go get two socks.” She held up two fingers.
He shot off toward the bedroom. Shania stood and straightened the dark blue sweater. She retied the emerald and cyan silk scarf, the geometric shapes adding a whimsical element, then smoothed down the perse-tinted slacks. She stuffed her wallet, lipstick and baby-wipes into her small green bag. Forgetting her cellphone failed to work last Sunday, she reached for it. Even after charging for several hours, she was unable to get the damn thing to function and had given up. She would put the device into the recycling center at the student union next time she went to the West Quad.
Justin ran back into the room, handed her the socks and plopped onto the floor. She rolled the socks, placed one in each boot, then helped Justin pull them on. A smile lit his face as he stood.
“Walk, so we can see if it works.” She bit her lip. His other pair of shoes had to be painful to wear. She needed to dress him in boots or slippers. She didn’t know where they were going for dinner, but slippers would be frowned upon.
Justin limped for a couple of steps. “My feet move.”
The doorbell rang.
“Well, they’ll have to do. I’ll carry you. All right?” She thought he’d say no. He was getting more independent and difficult to manage, typical for his age although irritating.
“This time.”
She mentally sighed and opened the door for Adam. His long black cashmere overcoat hosted was covered with drops of water. A light blue polo shirt peeked from underneath and khakis completed the outfit. His devilish dark eyes glittered as he smiled. The scent of Christmas trees fragranced the air as he got closer to her.
She inhaled, enjoying the pine aroma of his cologne and the presence of a man. “Hi, how are you?”
“Good. And you?” He smiled.
“Is it raining?” She zipped her short-waist black jacket.
“Snowing.” His hot gaze made her nervous. She twisted the edge of her scarf.
“Snow?” Justin shouted and awkwardly ran to the window. “Mommy, look.”
She strode to the casement and glanced into the overcast night. The side of M2 was visible on the ledge outside the glass. He had a pearlescent mantle and hat. The white moon, hidden behind clouds, allowed a faint light to illustrate large flakes drifting toward Earth. “Beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you, Shania,” Adam whispered in her ear.
Startled, she pivoted, bumping his hard form, then stepped back. He grabbed her arm, preventing a fall. Had she led him on, making him think she was into him? She stifled the anger and mistrust.
What was the harm in having a relationship with Adam?
Morgan.
“Thank you. Ready to go, friend?” She smoothed her hair and straightened the scarf.
He smiled, that charming half-cocked grin, and took her hand in his, leading her to the door. “Yes.”
Justin clomped behind them. She stopped, slipped her fingers from Adam’s and helped Justin put on his coat and gloves. She hoisted him to rest on her hip.
* * * *
Meat and Boards was a surprising title for a restaurant in a progressively vegetarian society at Briarwood. Splattered across the billboard was a proclamation of live shows. Her stomach quivered in fear. As they walked into the round wooden structure, the scent of roasting meat and some other earthy fragrance she couldn’t quite put her finger on wafted through the air. Dinner theatre. Cripes, would it be an interactive event? Shy and awkward in public, she didn’t want to be a part of it. She frowned and glanced at the exit and then at Adam. He must have read her thoughts.
“You’ll like it, and I know Justin will because they have horses.” He tickled Justin’s side.
“Horses?” Propped on her hip, he twisted away from Adam’s probing fingers, jarring her in the process. Justin looked around the reception area.
A tiny woman, wearing a long green dress with an empire waist, walked toward them. A crown of daisies nestled in her dark brown curls, giving her an authentic medieval aura. “Dr. Raimo, your seats are ready. Follow me please.”
He hadn’t given his name, indicating he may have arranged the reservations in person or that he came here often. She got an uneasy feeling that she’d been set-up, but for what reason?
They walked through a curling hallway until they came to a wide opening. In front of them was a large arena with stadium seating and a domed roof. Skylights cut into the rough-hued boards allowed visibility to the star-studded universe. A grouping of chairs had been sectioned off with banners and colorful flags.
The Renaissance-garbed woman led them to an enclosed private area. Shania was glad she carried Justin because the floor had wood granules on it, and he’d want to get down and play. The boots would have come off and a pint of sawdust would have been transported to her bedroom later.
The tinkling of music, Greensleeves, came from speakers. Shania glanced around to find the source. A bit of black mesh was barely visible hidden among the silken materials lining the walls. She tucked Justin onto a chair pre-set with a booster seat. Adam helped them remove their jackets and took a seat beside Justin. She sat on the other side of her son, at the end of the table.
“This is different.” She smiled at Adam and placed her bag beside a steel platter.
“You seemed like an old-fashioned kind of woman, so I thought you’d enjoy the restaurant.” His grin should have melted her resistance, unfettering her heart. He was sincere, sweet and very handsome, but she would remain true to Morgan.
Adam was from a good family. He’d often talked of his brothers and sisters affectionately. He had similar interests as she--why couldn’t she fall in love with him? Was falling in love charmed? Experiencing puppy love with Beck made her into a woman. Morgan and she created a special bond which superseded friendships. He made her feel whole. No, there wouldn’t be a third time. Morgan had her devotion and she remained tethered to him.
“Ladies and gentleman.” A man’s deep voice resonated through the arena. He held a paper scroll in front of his black belted waist. He was dressed in a knee-length jacket--a beautiful periwinkle blue color--and pants that bloomed out at the thighs. He must have had a micro
phone attached to his frilly collar as his voice boomed throughout the entire thirty-thousand-square-feet of stadium. Shania glanced around. The lower level seats had filled quickly. The spokesperson continued to explain the amazing feats to be performed by the horses and stunning entertainers.
“The opening will amaze you. Special effects will astound you. Magic exists and will be shared with those who believe. A four-course extravaganza, mouth-watering meal will be delivered to your seat. Of course, in keeping with the time, forks and knives will not be provided.” He smacked his lips and pretended to lick his fingers. “With the main course of roasted chicken, wet cloths will be available for you to clean your hands if you so desire.”
“Audience participation will be an option during our perfect performances.” He rolled the scroll back into its original cylinder shape, the red tassels on the end flapping with the movement. “Thank you, ladies and gents. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show.”
He walked to the edge of the ring and flung out his arm, exhibiting the azure lining of his jacket. Trumpet sounds vibrated off the exposed beams and an array of performers entered the stadium. Jugglers were outfitted in gloriously bright cloth--ochre, cerulean blue, brunt umber and cadmium red. Musicians wore Mussini green. Entertainers, garbed in vibrant colors, rode on the backs of white, brown and black horses. The scene made her want to seek out paints and canvas.
Shania glanced at her son. In silence, he took in every scenario presented. He laughed as a jester tossed a ball in his direction. Justin tried to catch the plastic orb, but it bounced to Adam who snatched the globe from the air. He handed the toy to Justin, who clasped it firmly between two hands.
Pale-faced women had feathers coming out of the top of their mile-high hair. The bits of fluff fluttered in the wind as their cart, being pulled by a dapper pair of equines, marched around the showground. Shania looked at Adam. He smiled that confident, told-you-so smile. She leaned around Justin and touched Adam’s wrist.
“Thank you. You’ve provided me with a wonderful surprise.” Her fingers pressed into the cloth at his wrist.
His eyes clouded with lust. She jerked her hand back. He frowned and reached into his coat.
“I’d thought to give you this during dessert, but why wait?” He extracted a rectangle-shaped package, with a large white ribbon sporting a bow on top. “Happy birthday, Shania.”
She closed her eyes, wishing the tears would not roll over. It had been such a long time since she’d received a present that the idea that someone considered her enough to celebrate the day and in such a lovely way overwhelmed her. The dinner, the thoughtfulness--Adam was, without a doubt, a very good person.
“Shania?” Adam asked.
“Mommy?” Justin touched her arm as it rested on the table.
“Sorry, I’m so touched by your thoughtfulness. Thank you, Adam.” She took the red foil package. “How did you know?”
He blushed and looked away. “Ah, paperwork.”
She ignored the implications that he’d nosed through her medical records and opened the gift. A state of the art cellphone was inside the package. She held it up for inspection. Could she ever learn how to use the darn thing?
“I have the box and instructions in the trunk of my car. If you take the phone to an agent, he’ll connect you with your old number. You’ll have to enter your entire contact list in again, and you’ll have text ability. Also--” He wiggled his fingers in a give-it-over motion.
She handed him the cell.
“This device has internet capabilities, including GPS.” He pressed a few buttons and a browser came onto the screen.
She swallowed. How could she afford the monthly utility for the phone? If he’d arranged service in advance, she wouldn’t dream of allowing him to pay. He shut the device down and handed it to her. She could smell his pine-scented cologne on the cellular.
“Thank you,” she croaked and placed the mobile in her purse.
The first course of bread and cheese was placed in front of them, giving her time to think about how to refuse the gift or, barring that, exchanging the phone for a less expensive version. She’d deal with the conundrum later. Now, she wanted to bask in the glow of a wonderful evening with her friend and her son.
She stole a glance at Adam during the chicken course. He was nice and cared about Justin. Why couldn’t she accept him as a possible partner? As a guy who had dating and a future in mind? He said he planned to settle down and get married. Although her lungs constricted at the thought, her mind wanted to embrace him and his obvious goals.
Adam was an excellent doctor, kind and considerate--all good qualities in a prospective partner. He could get any woman he desired. Why was he interested in her?
Dessert arrived. Clanking of metal against metal came from her right. She pushed the apple turnover away as she saw the snout of a stallion out of the corner of her eye. This wouldn’t be good. A knight, wearing full polished silver armor, rode his equine close to their raised table. Laughter and whispers sprinkled around her. Crap, audience participation. She wasn’t getting on that animal in front of spectators. The beautiful steed blew out a puff of air as if in retribution for her thoughts. He smelled of earthy hay. Oat-scented air filtered into her nose as he blew out another breath. She loved horses. Memories of helping Morgan’s father groom his stock came flooding back as this beast lifted his head in a nod.
“My Lady.” The knight’s gruff baritone voice pierced the air. He lifted the shield on the mask, exposing his lower face.
Shania resisted the urge to glance behind her. Maybe he intended the address to someone else. Nope. He dismounted and awkwardly maneuvered near her chair. Thank goodness a solid six foot wall was between them. Adam urged her to acknowledge the knight.
A poignant silence fell over the crowd, making her more uncomfortable.
“I’m about to go into contest with the evil Dark Knight. Might I have a bit of goodwill? Perhaps a token of your favor to wear upon my helm?” His deep voice rang through the arena. He pointed a gloved hand toward her.
The crowd roared, shouting, “Give him a token.”
“Shania, give him your scarf,” Adam encouraged.
Her face heated. She smiled and unknotted the emerald scarf from her neck. Quickly rising, she walked around her chair, down a set of stairs, and handed the cloth to the knight.
“My Lady, garbed as such, I’ll need your assistance. Please.” He winked at her. Scratches screeched through the speakers as he twisted to get closer.
She leaned on the wooden rail. He shifted his lance to his other hand and held out his arm. She tied her scarf around his bicep below the tin cap of the sleeve, as applause came from the onlookers. The knight bowed. He mounted his horse with such ease, obviously he performed this act every night.
He saluted the audience. “Thank you, my Lady.”
The white knight slammed down the cheek plate, the bevor standing out strong and sharp, and rode to the opposite side of the arena. Shania took a sip of mead--a diet cream soda--and kept her eyes focused on the table. Beck was the last male to request an item of clothing from her. As the play continued, metal clanked against metal and Shania catapulted back to the day she was with Beck, the day he left her forever.
* * * *
Beck, Morgan and Shania stood at the entry of the airport concourse. Beck would exit through the gates and be gone for a whole year. Perhaps during that time he’d get a military leave and they could plan their marriage, unless his parents convinced him otherwise. The engagement announcement during dinner at their house hadn’t gone as well as she had hoped. As Shania had expected, shards of hate radiated from his mother’s sharp blue eyes.
“I know the announcement didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. They’ll like you--eventually. Keep going to my house and talk to them.” Beck dropped his carry-on and hugged her.
Morgan stepped to the side and glanced out the windows toward the tarmac.
“They hate me, Beck. I’m not going to barge
in uninvited.” She pressed her hand against his firm chest, missing him already. Thank goodness classes started next week. She’d become immersed in studying and time would quickly pass.
“No, they don’t. They’re just surprised.” He winked at Morgan.
What the heck? Had Beck confided in Morgan that his parents didn’t like her? She bit her lip to keep from speaking out.
“Morgan, I expect you to take care of my brown-eyed girl. Promise?” Beck clapped Morgan on the back.
Morgan drew him into a hug and nodded. “Sure, I promise to take care of Shania until you’re able to once again.”
“Good, I know you will.” Beck tightened his lips. Had something passed between them before the promise and he was reaffirming?
Beck released his friend. “Good luck with your business ventures. I’m sure you’ll be successful. You’ve got a bright mind behind that ugly mug.”
“Peace be with you, my friend,” Morgan said. His tone had a rasp, like metal wheels rubbing dryly against each other.
“Same here,” Beck replied, his voice solemn and low-pitched. He grabbed Shania. “Now, my love, I hope you’ll favor me with a token. Something with your scent on it.”
Tongue sliding across his lips, he slyly winked, making the sweet thought turn naughty and nasty, reminding her of his desire for her to talk dirty during sex.
She removed her neck scarf. She’d selected the cloth because it matched Beck’s indigo eyes perfectly. Hands shaking, she tied the token around his neck. “Here’s good luck to my future husband. Return safely to me.”
Beck never returned to her.
* * * *
“My Lady,” a baritone voice proclaimed.
Shania returned to the present. Chanting came from the stands behind her and pounded through her mind. She glanced around the dusty arena and at the people shouting. What did they want her to do?
She shook her head as the deep voice repeated, “My Lady?”
She glanced at the knight holding onto the reins of a sweating horse. Bejeweled jesters danced in the background. Suddenly, the scent of grilled meat made her gag.