"Or maybe it's not a dream," Hazel said wistfully. "Maybe it's a memory."
Della pondered what Hazel said. She could be right. She had no way of knowing if something was a memory or a dream.
"So how would you explain her clutching a wedding band and seeing that lady whose boyfriend she had been obsessing about"? Caitlin asked.
"Maybe it's a combination of memories and a dream. You know, like your brain twisting things up," Hazel said.
She stopped talking when a waiter brought over their orders.
"That was quick," Brigid grinned and looked over the food, "and we got extra, but then again I am not surprised. Caitlin is a VIP guest."
"Extra jerk chicken." Hazel laughed. "If I wasn't getting married on Monday I would make a play for Tyrone myself."
"And make Caity jealous." Brigid snickered. "Maybe I should pursue Tyrone myself."
"On a serious note though, Della," Hazel said, dipping her fries in ketchup. "I envy you."
Della quirked her brow. "Me? Why?"
"Because," Hazel said, chewing her fries slowly, "obviously your brain is trying to work out something. I am sure that one day you'll get your memory back and you'll know your real name and your past and if you had parents and all of that. I will never really know anything I was found as an anonymous baby on the steps of a shopping mall."
Brigid grunted. "Really Hazel, having a biological family is not all that. I would trade places with one of you any day. My mother is a former prostitute who did drugs. I was a drug baby, remember? They had me in rehab when I was born. I really wish I didn't know all of that. I have nightmares that some of those drugs destroyed my brain cells. I am going to need my brain cells for med school."
"They did destroy some of your brain cells." Caitlin chuckled. "You have serious mental issues."
Brigid laughed. "Whatever, man."
Della felt her headache sliding away. She relaxed into her seat. Her sisters were the antidote to her churning, searching mind.
"Thanks guys," She signed.
They nodded. She didn't need to explain that being around them made her feel better.
Chapter Eight
Dear Luca,
Merry Christmas. How are you spending your Christmas? Are you with family and friends and having a crazy time? Usually my sisters and I would go to Patricia's place to spend the day.
Patricia usually hosts Christmas dinner for us and her family, but this year, Patricia is not around, and my sister Hazel is getting married. I don't approve of this marriage but Hazel has always been stubborn and she has her reasons for marrying a man that is sixty-five years older than she is. He wants to teach his children a lesson and she wants his money. She thinks it is a fair trade.
I think that it's a crazy idea and ironic, really. When we were younger, Hazel was the sister who would describe her wedding in vivid details. Her groom was always a young, handsome, dashing guy and they would tie the knot in a formal wedding at a cathedral. Brigid, Caitlin and I would be her bridesmaids and her best friend from high school, Kenzy, would be her maid of honor.
She always said she wanted to wear an ivory dress. Patricia would give her away and she would march up the aisle to the sound of violins.
We always teased her that it sounded over the top and a little bit too movie production-ish, but I am telling you right now, I would much prefer that she had her movie production wedding and that she was getting married to a guy who genuinely loved her as she loved him.
Right now I wouldn't mind if she released doves, or did a sand ceremony, or jumped the broom, or any of the little things that she used to talk about. I wouldn't mind if she had four pastors officiating and a million and one formalities that lasted for four hours.
I would give anything to be a party to her youthful plans right now. I imagine that we would be in her room somewhere helping her to get into her elaborate wedding dress and laughing and chatting and reminiscing about our younger days. Instead, she is the first of us to get married and it is like a cold, clinical exercise. It's kind of like a let-down actually.
When I get married I want to be sure. I want to have mad chemistry with my husband to be. I want to love him so much that it hurts not to have him around.
My dream changed recently and in all of them these days I have always ended up clutching a ring with the name Givens. I have no idea what it means. My sister Brigid joked about it; she said maybe it means that I am going to marry a guy with that name.
I don't know, though. I am stupidly hoping that the guy for me is a guy named Lawson. You know him? Tall, handsome dude with gray eyes?
Just kidding. I am mature enough to know that this thing that I have for you will eventually fade. It's a phase. Like that time when my sisters and I had a serious crush on the new gardener at Magnolia House.
Every day when Dewy came to cut the lawn or to trim the trees we would look at him and salivate. He was so cute, but little by little we changed. A year later we were wondering what on earth we ever saw in Dewy. He couldn't string two intelligible sentences together to save his life.
Maybe you can't string two sentences together. Maybe you are just a pretty face, Luca Lawson.
It would be funny if you can't even read. I am warning you that whatever I have for you would crash instantly. That is the spell breaker, a guy who cannot read.
Anyway, I am going now. I have to do something to my hair and find something to wear. What does one wear to a wedding that's not really going to end up to be a real marriage?
I don't know. Maybe later I'll tell you how it went.
*****
Brigid came in Sonia's new Mercedes to pick her up. The sky was overcast and she felt a drop of rain on her hand before she got into the car.
"Hey, you look nice in pale peach," Brigid said, grinning. "You are putting me to shame. I reasoned that since it's a hole in the corner wedding I shouldn't dress up, but here you are showing me up. In designer wear, too."
Della grinned. Brigid was in a light blue dress that highlighted her slim yet curvaceous shape. Her hair was out in twists that were freshly done. She was almost sitting on her hair ends. Della did not by any stretch of the imagination look better than Brigid.
"Okay, we go to pick up Caitlin and then over to Hazel's," Brigid said. "I am almost afraid of driving Sonia's new car."
"It's nice," Della signed.
"I think she lent it to me to show me what I am missing out on by not participating in her escort business." Brigid sighed. "I wish she were a real mother."
Della nodded.
They drove through the almost empty streets of Half Way Tree and stopped at Caitlin's apartment in the Golden Triangle area.
Caitlin was already standing at the gate when they approached. She was in a figure-hugging light green dress. She got in the car in a huff. "I shouldn't be endorsing this wedding."
Brigid chortled. "But yet here we are, all of us in pastel colors, like we are wanna-be bridesmaids. Remember how Hazel said she wanted us to wear pastel shades when she was detailing her imaginary wedding for us?"
"Life doesn't always turn out the way we plan it," Della signed. "Hazel is doing the best she can with the opportunity she has."
"True," Caitlin said from the back seat, "but I am very uncomfortable with her decision."
Brigid drove toward St. Andrew hills. The farther up she drove the prettier and more exclusive the neighborhoods became.
"But look on the bright side," Brigid said in the silence. "Hazel will be rich."
Caitlin chuckled. "Yes, she will be. Not bad for a twenty-one year old orphan from Magnolia House, I must admit."
"And if the old man kicks the bucket soon, holy guacamole," Brigid laughed. "Hazel will probably be richer than Patricia. Isn't the old man like an oil tycoon or something? We will have a rich sister."
"The love of money is the root of all evil," Caitlin intoned. "You love money too much, Brigid Manderson."
"No, I don't," Brigid said, turning into the cul-
de-sac where the exclusive townhouses were. "I just like what money can do for me. Like pay my way through med school. I want to be a doctor so badly."
"We know," Caitlin said. "Just wait on the Lord. He'll work out a way for you."
"Yes ma'am," Brigid said, only half-convinced. She drove through the gate after the security guard verified who they were.
"Let's get this party started," Della signed as she got out of the car.
*****
The ceremony took place by the poolside under a canopy. Mr. Baron was in a wheelchair, his grey hair was slicked back and he had a twinkle in his faded, watery blue eyes. He looked a little healthier and happier than normal.
Della wondered if this was the lease on life that he needed. Hazel was in a halter back white dress which flattered her shape and made her look prettier than usual.
"At least she looks good," Kenzy whispered to Della. "But for heaven's sake, couldn't one of you talk her out of this?"
"Shut it," Caitlin hissed. "You are her best friend. She ran away from Magnolia House to stay with you and you brought her back pregnant and without six months of her memory. You are the reason why she is marrying this old guy. It's all you, Kenzy. She rebelled with you and now she is marrying to get back Sebastian.
"You know something about Sebastian's father and what went on in those six months and you are not telling us."
"Not this again." Kenzy went around to the other side of Della and stood beside Brigid. "What's the matter with you people? I tell you that I don't know who Hazel was seeing when she came to my place. It was a secret even from me."
"Liar," Brigid snorted.
Kenzy sighed. "Della is the only one of Hazel's sisters that has ever really liked me. You two have always been rabidly jealous of my and Hazel's friendship. You can let go of your possessiveness, people. We are all adults now."
She pressed closer to Della who was half-hearing their whispered bickering. She was thinking of the wedding last Sunday, when she had seen Luca with his gorgeous looking girlfriend.
Right at this moment she was running through the lady’s face feature by feature. She had an exotic look to her, with her eyes having a slight catlike curve, enhanced by mascara no doubt.
Was that the sort of lady he liked? The sort of lady that you wouldn't miss when she entered the room?
She wondered how old his girlfriend was. She could be anything from late twenties to late thirties. Who knew? She looked as if she took very good care of herself.
What on earth was she doing in Della's dreams? It was ironic that she didn't even dream about Luca but his girlfriend.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister announced, knocking Della out of her ruminating thoughts.
Hazel turned to the small gathering and smiled. Caitlin groaned beside her.
"What's done is done," Brigid said heavily, "but look on the bright side, the old man could kick the bucket any day now."
Chapter Nine
Della checked her phone after it beeped. 'Happy New Year', the text message said. It was from Hazel.
She had been getting text messages throughout the day wishing her a happy new year. Hazel was late. It was almost evening now. She was lying in bed. It was her month to sleep in the room. The bed had a hump in the middle, and it was sticking her in places that she didn't know had bones.
She had spent New Year's Day alone, watching television and thinking about Luca and eating Keisha's leftover oatmeal and raisin cookies.
She was grateful for the opportunity to talk to somebody. She had had enough of her own company.
She replied to Hazel, Happy New Year. How are you Mrs. Baron?
Bored, was the almost instant reply.
Want us to go to 112 Norbrook Avenue? Della texted on a whim.
What's there? Hazel texted back.
Luca lives there, Della replied.
Okay, Hazel texted back. Come pick you up in twenty minutes.
Della jumped off the bed. Hazel must be really bored. Usually Brigid would be the one who would be up for this sort of adventure but Brigid had gone to what she termed the assembly of the in-breds, a rare and often conflict-filled family reunion with her mother's side of the family.
Della pulled on a pair of jeans and an old long-sleeved red t-shirt. It had the faded lettering 'Magnolia House' at the front. It had been standard issue back when she was at the Girls' Home. Every quarter they had gotten brand new t-shirts in different colors, all of them with the Magnolia House name and a magnolia flower near the end of the name.
She almost felt nostalgic for the home now. Every New Year they would assemble in the meeting hall, each bungalow represented by a color. Some do-gooder would give them a speech about the coming year and then they would have a treat.
She remembered vividly when she was sixteen and suffering from a lack of self-esteem. She had been at the height of hating her scar and wishing that she had a voice. The motivational speaker for that year had been Viviene Rattray, a successful business woman and alum of Magnolia House.
You could sense the strength and the formidability of the woman. She had started her speech by saying, "God sent me here today to tell one specific little girl that you are special to him.”
She had looked out on the crowd of over fifty girls, and Della felt as if her eyes had connected with hers when she gave her speech. After she had finished speaking she quoted the poem No More Smalling Up Of Me by Jean Wilson.
Della could remember it now. She let herself out of the apartment, silently quoting it.
There's no obstacle so bold
As to dare stand in my way.
I am taking back my life,
And I am doing it today....
She had gone to the library at the home and looked up the poem, memorizing it in its entirety and from then on it had become her New Year's mantra.
Those were good times. She sat on the stone bench under a poui tree at the front of the building. It was a cloudless day, and cool. She wrapped her hands around herself and looked around her. Most of the parking spaces were empty. The occupants of the apartment were mostly single working class people. Maybe most of them had gone to spend time with their family in the country or maybe they had gone out because the place was eerily quiet.
Hazel drove up in a new black town car ten minutes later. Della's eyes widened.
"What happened to the old car?" she signed.
Hazel laughed. "At home. That was the helper's car. Because I am now the wife of a wealthy man, I can drive this and any other car I desire."
Della nodded. "Okay then."
"You want my old car so you won't have to take the bus anymore?" Hazel asked, "I could loan it to you."
"Are you serious?" Della signed excitedly.
"Yes." Hazel shrugged. "I have always wished that you could have your own transportation to navigate around the place. Not that I think you can't do it on your own. I worry about you, you know. I know you love your independence and you are quite fine living alone but you are mute. It's like living in a country where most people don't speak your language. Suppose something happens on the bus and nobody understands sign language?"
"You worry?" Della frowned. "Really?"
"Yes." Hazel nodded. "We all do. When you left Magnolia House to live on your own, we were all terrified. I know you are the oldest and all, but you are the most vulnerable. You do realize that Patricia arranged for Keisha to be your roommate?"
"I didn't know that." Della laughed. "I thought I got the place on my own and was fortunate to have a roommate who knew sign language."
"As if we would be comfortable with you alone. I love you, girl," Hazel said, her eyes tearing up.
Della reached over and hugged her.
"You look sad," Della signed. "What's wrong?"
"I am always sad at this time of the year." Hazel exhaled. "Remember, I returned to the home humbled, pregnant and clueless as to what happened to me. It was around this time. Well, the second day of January."
Hazel shrugged. "I wish that you could remember too. Let's make that our New Year’s resolution."
"If only it were so easy." Della smiled, "I don't make resolutions anymore."
"Me either." Hazel said forlornly. She started the car. "So where are we going now?"
"Norbrook," Della signed. "I just want to see where he lives."
Hazel smiled. "Della is in love, na-na- na- na."
*****
112 Norbrook Drive was in an exclusive part of an already exclusive neighborhood. Della soon found out after Hazel slowly drove through the palm-lined neighborhood with the spacious yards and the large land spaces.
"This is old money." Hazel whistled. "I have been here with Baron before. The Spanish ambassador lives over there." She pointed to a tall wrought iron gate that had a security post at the front.
She cruised through the neighborhood some more and slowed down near the front of a mansion that had a pristine lawn.
"Wow!" Hazel whispered. "Della, are you sure you saw 112 Norbrook Drive?"
Della nodded, craning her neck past Hazel to see the house.
"That's his vehicle in the porte-cochere." She pointed to a vehicle that was parked near the massive front door. She recognized the license plate number. She slid farther in her seat when she saw that he was at the door.
"Is that him?" Hazel asked. Then she too slumped in her seat when Luca looked in their direction.
Della was nodding vigorously.
"Nice, really nice," Hazel whispered. "He is dressed semi-formally and he has a lady with him who is dressed to the nines. They must be going out to someplace--really posh."
Della peeped up from her seat. "That's her," she signed. "The girlfriend."
"She looks okay," Hazel said noncommittally. "You made it sound as if she was impressive or something."
Dear Mystery Guy (Magnolia Sisters Book 1) Page 6