by Libby Malin
“He has a temper, okay? Some guy insulted his mother, and he’d taken a swing… but listen, that’s old news. What worries me is the here and now. You’ve got to return her.”
“She’s not an item I purchased at a store and am now unhappy with.”
“Thomas, you know what I mean. You have to make things right.”
He sighed. “She’s very upset. I was thinking she should stay here for the night.”
“I don’t know. Buck is awfully mad. If he discovers where she is…”
“How would he figure it out? Obviously, nobody knew it was me. Besides, my building has a twenty-four-hour attendant in the lobby.”
“Well, give him Buck’s description to be on the safe side.”
“That sounds extreme. It’s not like this is the eighteenth century or anything. What’s he going to do -- challenge me to a duel?” And even if he did, Thomas felt ready. DeeDee needed his protection.
“Just let the lobby know, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And if DeeDee needs a good lawyer…” Megan was always trolling for business. She was with a high-powered Baltimore firm, and her reputation as an aggressive attorney who won cases and settlements was growing.
“She’s not getting divorced -- she didn’t get married.”
“Whatever.”
“So, how was Wendy’s wedding?” he asked.
“Not bad. Reception’s a blast. They have a live band, some friends of the groom.”
“When you headed back?”
“I’ll stop and see Dad in the morning,” she said, “and then hit the road.”
“He seemed a little more out of it to me. I’m curious to get your take.”
“Tom, you always say that.”
It was true. Maybe he thought that about his Dad because the man had always seemed out of sorts with Thomas, never quite approving of what he did or liked in life.
“Well, give me your expert opinion after you visit.”
“Will do, bro. You take care. And get DeeDee to call a friend or somebody!”
***
He did everything Megan instructed him to do and then some. Once Thomas Charlemagne had an assignment, he couldn’t stop himself from finishing it to perfection.
After he got off the phone, he returned to the living room to find DeeDee dry-eyed but somber. He took charge, insisting she call a friend, and he heard her on the phone with a “Kelly” explaining she was all right, that she’d not lost her senses, that she’d been having second thoughts for some time, and she asked Kelly to get a message to Buck that she was sorry she’d not broken it off in private and would talk to him soon.
He then suggested that she not go home immediately. She was obviously still under a lot of stress, and going back to Oyster Point would mean confronting even more tension. He told her to put her feet up and take a nap while he finished grading some papers and sending those grades to the registrar’s office.
She agreed and stretched out on his sofa after a quick stop in the bathroom to wash up. While she settled on his couch, he ran downstairs to let the lobby attendant know that no one was to be given information on his apartment number under any circumstances. Then he made a quick trip across the street to the deli to pick up more provisions.
He was not going to allow her to drive home tonight. Unsafe for her, unsafe for other drivers. She could sleep in his bed and he’d take the couch. It was the least he could do after disrupting her wedding.
When he returned to this flat, she was dozing peacefully, her hands curled under her head, her mouth open just a smidgeon. She looked as beautiful and peaceful as a cherub.
Why on earth had he ever broken with her?
Because she’d wanted to stay in Oyster Point, and he’d wanted-- no, needed-- to move beyond it. That was the big reason, but there had been lots of smaller yapping dogs of reasons, too-- her refusal to accept his studies as worthwhile, even to the point of outright mockery, her insistence that The School of Hard Knocks was all she needed for higher education. It had come to a boiling point when he’d actually suggested they move in together as he pursued his graduate degrees. She’d laughed in his face, telling him she had no intention of being his “arm candy.” When he’d suggested she take college classes, too, possibly earning a degree in business, she’d become grievously insulted, telling him she already had an education in business, having worked with her father since she’d been a girl.
He shook his head as he remembered. He’d thought at the time that the breakup was inevitable. Guys like him didn’t land or keep gals like her.
Well, you’ve landed her now, Thomas. And under false pretenses. You’ll have to explain it in the morning.
***
But in the morning, she was already gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
BY THE TIME DeeDee drove into Oyster Point early the next day, she’d plotted out a dozen different scenarios for the rest of her life, ranging from moving to Montana, to killing all the inhabitants of her town and repopulating it with people who didn’t know her.
She’d slipped out of Thomas’s apartment as dawn had cracked the sky with pink streaks. She just couldn’t face the dude anymore. She’d humiliated herself enough with her crying the day before-- she rarely broke down like that. It was a point of pride with her that she’d not cried at her father’s funeral. Not in public, that is. In private, she’d been a wreck.
She knew she owed Thomas more than the explanations she’d provided yesterday or the quick “thank you, I’ll call soon, don’t worry” note she’d left on his table. Sure, her conscience was mostly clear-- she’d not led him on, not let him believe she’d left Buck because she still had a thing going for him.
No, that was long over-- her relationship with Tom-- she thought as she steered the car through the sleepy streets of her hometown. If only he’d been the man then that he was now. It had taken some courage to stop her wedding. But back in the day-- well, there was a reason the kids had called him Timid Tommy.
He’d been so timid in high school, in fact, so used to being bullied, that when he’d learned through the school grapevine that she’d be open to an invitation to the prom from him, he’d never mustered the courage to actually ask her. Of course, Corey and Buck daring him to ask had sealed the deal. He froze up when someone dared him to do anything. He’d looked at her funny for weeks on end, getting all red in the face and tongue-tied. But he’d never asked her, and she’d gone as Buck’s date, while Tom had shown up with some buddies in a group.
It had only been at their five-year reunion that they’d learned the truth from each other. That had been the beginning of their brief summer affair. She’d thought, at the time, that she’d finally found someone who really appreciated her. He’d been considerate and charming with her, and she had admired how he valued family, being courteous to his father even though George Charlemagne rarely had a kind word to say about his kids, and being downright friendly with her dad, when her other dates had always been afraid to look him in the eye. She’d thought she and Tom might have a future together. Oh yes, she’d known he was going off to graduate school. But part of her figured they’d stay in touch, start a long-distance thing, and then he’d…
He’d what, DeeDee? Her face warming, she filled in the answer -- he’d come back to Oyster Point, settle down, maybe teach at the local high school or nearby St. Mary’s College, and she’d be back in his life.
No, instead, he’d suggested she go with him, that she take business courses. At the memory, her fingers gripped the wheel. As if she’d been incapable of anything that wasn’t practical! As if she couldn’t possibly appreciate higher… things! Shit, she was as good as any of the college grads in town. Every year, she had bunches of them applying for internships at her dealership. She could probably teach a few business courses herself by now. She’d learned a lifetime’s worth of accounting and management and marketing working for her father and then for herself.
Damn, but Thomas could still make
her mad.
Oh, stop it, she told herself. He did a fine thing yesterday, and you owe him. Give him a call when you get home. Let him down gently.
At the outset of her trip that morning, she’d thought of alerting Kelly to her return but had pulled her hand back from her phone when she’d considered that her friend might tip off Buck, thinking she’d be doing them both a favor by expediting a reconciliation. No, DeeDee was all alone in this.
What’s the right thing to do? she whispered to the windshield as she turned onto Duckwalk Way. She imagined her father sitting on their front porch shaking his head. Now, DeeDee, you’ve done and gotten yourself in a pretty big kettle of fish, haven’t you?
Dad had always been “down home,” even though he was smarter than any of the MBAs who occasionally tried to sell him on some new management technique or consulting service. He liked people. He liked selling them things he believed in. He loved DeeDee.
“But you didn’t like Buck much,” she murmured. “So I don’t expect you’re too disappointed. Better late than never in coming to the right conclusion.” He’d liked Tom, though. He’d thought he was “forthright.”
She pulled into her driveway, grateful that no one was out and about on this sunny day, and stowed the car back in the garage, careful to close the doors quietly in case a nosy neighbor was on the lookout. After retrieving the key she kept hidden by the compost heap in the yard, she entered by her back kitchen door, breathing deep the scent of roses from a bouquet sent over by her service department before the wedding.
In thirty seconds, she went through the house, pulling shades down, and snatched yesterday morning’s mail from the front porch box with a swift stroke of her arm. She listened to her phone messages -- they included a drunken rant from Buck telling her she’d regret her “deshishion” for the rest of her life -- and cleaned out her refrigerator. She tidied up magazines strewn on a table in the living room and made a shopping list. She folded a basket of laundry left in the hallway. And finally, when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she trudged upstairs to her bedroom.
There, on the neat white and purple floral bedspread, was her open suitcase, the topmost garment a silk and chiffon negligee in a flesh-colored tone that made her gag as she contemplated what she’d saved herself from. She’d started unpacking the suitcase before Kelly had picked her up to take her to the church yesterday. Yesterday-- it felt as if an age had passed since then.
Their honeymoon plans had been to go to the Outer Banks for a week. She’d looked into quaint shops and sightseeing online, not liking to contemplate the hours alone with nothing but Buck's “company.”
“The Outer Banks? Seven fucking hours away when the whole Atlantic’s just an hour east!” She laughed at herself and Buck. But it didn’t take long for the laughter to turn to tears, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the bed, holding the filmy nightgown to her cheek like a child clutching her blankie.
She cried because she felt… shallow and ashamed. She’d wanted to love Buck. She’d even convinced herself sometimes that she had. He was strong and handsome, a former football star, well-liked in town. It had seemed like her fate, to wind up with a guy like him. And she hadn’t been getting any younger. She wanted family and kids, and she was old-fashioned enough to want the husband to go with them. Was that all she’d wanted him for -- to sire her offspring? When had she become so superficial?
“Who am I trying to kid?” she said aloud, relieved to get the crying jag out of the way in private. “Buck was no soul mate. Buck didn’t like the same things I liked.” She’d always known that.
But that led to a new question-- what exactly did she like?
The phone rang. She jumped. She stared at the LED screen and saw Kelly’s number pop up. She answered.
“My gosh, girl, I’ve been worried sick about you. When did you get back? Ron said he saw your SUV coming into town a little while ago. Have you talked with Buck yet? Do you want me to come over?”
DeeDee smiled. Kelly was just what she needed.
“No, don’t come over. I don’t want anyone to know I’m in town yet. Have you talked to Buck lately? I mean, today?” It was hard to grasp that the wedding had been just yesterday. It seemed decades ago now.
“No, but Ron did. No need to hide under the covers, honey. Buck took off for that honeymoon you’d planned about an hour ago now. He told Ron he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.”
DeeDee sighed out her relief, then sat up straight. “Did he go alone?”
Kelly barked out a laugh. “Goodness gracious, Dee, I hardly think you have the right to be upset about that, but yes, as far as I know, he did go alone. Ron and I both saw him heading out in his Corvette with only Tessie in the car.” Tessie was Buck’s dog, a big, black Labrador.
That didn’t mean anything. Buck could have still stopped by and picked up Gretchen.
“I’m not jealous,” DeeDee insisted. “He can cavort with whomever he likes. Just not on my dime.” She’d paid for the hotel-- and most of the wedding, too. Buck had offered to pay for parts but hadn’t protested when she’d whipped out her checkbook. “Is he still hopping mad? He left a message for me. Sounded like he’d been drinking.”
“Oh, yes, he was drinking all right. Drank most of yesterday afternoon and into the night. His pal Lenny Bakewell was with him, though. He got him sobered up and fed this morning -- and I think he was the one who suggested Buck get away for a while.”
DeeDee relaxed. Buck being out of town would certainly make things easier for her.
“Well, I guess I can’t complain.”
“No, darlin’, you can’t.” Kelly’s tone turned serious. “Are you going to tell me what really happened? All you said yesterday was you had your doubts and would explain more later. It’s later now. And what were you thinking, running off with Tommy?”
Tommy -- Kelly knew it was Thomas Charlemagne who’d stood up and objected. DeeDee started to tell the story but was interrupted by Kelly’s own.
“I hear he took some dare -- something to do with standing up at the Bainbridge wedding -- you know Wendy, don’t you? Some say she had to get married, but I think she’s just a little on the heavy side, I mean, come on, we're not eighteen anymore….”
DeeDee took in a sharp breath, but Kelly didn’t hear and prattled on.
“Timid Tommy finally taking a dare -- can you imagine? I remember him in high school getting all wobbly whenever one of those fellows looked at him cross-eyed. Anyway…”
So Tom had not been a Knight in Shining Armor after all! Of course not. And here she’d been feeling guilty about breaking his heart.
She fumed silently. She gritted her teeth. Her fingers clamped on the phone so hard that she almost broke the plastic cover. Her temperature soared to sunburn levels.
Tom hadn’t stopped the wedding because he’d had a romantic notion they were meant to be together. It had been a practical joke gone wrong.
The louse. The pompous, preening, piggish, paper-pushing louse.
***
Anger was good therapy.
DeeDee was so enraged at being the object of Tom’s tomfoolery, that any misgivings she’d had over showing her face in town after leaving the altar disappeared entirely. Now, she was a woman with a mission, and that mission was making sure everyone knew what a complete jackass Thomas Charlemagne still was.
In the next few days, DeeDee told variations of the story to her hairdresser, the manager of her service team, her top salesman, the clerk at the Grizzly Grits Gas Station, the plumber, several city council reps, a teacher at the high school, and the mother of a teen selling Girl Scout cookies in her neighborhood. She was operating under the principle that it was better to get her side of the story out rather than have people gossiping.
And boy, did she have a side of the story: I didn’t know my own mind and poor Buck suffered as a result of it. And that Tommy Charlemagne is such a jerk, isn’t he-- taking advantage of a woman in a fragile state of mind? Getting all
that education didn’t mean he’d gotten any class, now, did it? He always did think highly of himself and little of Oyster Point. Why, his joke was a joke on all of us, don’t you think? He’ll be lucky not to be tarred and feathered next time he’s in town.
The local newspaper even did a brief story on it called “Nuptials Interrupted” with a photo of her throwing her shoes at the crowd chasing her and Thomas. Who’d snapped that photo, she wondered. The article got a few things wrong-- it quoted her saying “Buck Bewley wasn’t really that interested in me,” when she’d meant to say that Buck had lots of … options. Whatever. She was able to get in a little dig at Thomas, though --she’d said that the joke was on him, poor fellow, because she’d never have left the altar if she’d realized it was him standing up and objecting.
She was glad to be putting it behind her and reclaiming her place in Oyster Point.
Thomas tried to reach her several times that week, but she ignored his calls, only texting him back once to say she was busy and would catch up “2morrow,” knowing full well she wouldn’t. Let him stew.
What kind of guy pulls a prank like that? It was just plain nutty.
She was the one stewing, though, feeling simultaneously relieved at avoiding marriage to Buck and enraged at being a part of Tom’s stupid joke.
She couldn’t seem to sit still. She spent long hours at the dealership. When she came home, she could barely tolerate her quiet evenings, flipping through television channels so fast it was as if she’d pressed a “seek” button on the remote, and getting up every few minutes to do some bit of housekeeping she’d never thought of tackling before.
In fact, in the week after the wedding, she rose early and went to bed late as she found task after task to keep her busy. She scrubbed all her windowsills, washed her rugs, cleaned out her fireplace, fixed a squeak in her bedroom door, oiled her banister, polished the copper bottoms of all her pots and pans, bleached the grout between the flagstones on her patio, rearranged her furniture, and repotted her house plants.