by Linda Gerald
Harry explained that he didn’t desire to go but had already accepted the invitation. “Come on. How bad can it be?” If only he had known what waited.
NINE: DON DONAHUE
Elizabeth agreed to meet Harry, for a cocktail downstairs, one hour before the scheduled dinner with Don Donahue. Her nerves fluttered, and her hands were moist. Staying home was a much better alternative. Still, she wanted to please Mr. Grover. She chose a stylish red dress with dark stiletto heels. As she entered the room, Harry rose from his favorite chair by the window.
“Well, well, you look exquisite tonight. I don’t recall ever seeing Edwina wear that dress. Wow! Believe me; I would remember that.” He smiled, as he poured a glass of Cabernet.
They toasted the evening. While they sat by the window, Elizabeth pointed out many species of birds. It was a marvel of her knowledge. Finally, Dottie came into the room to listen to the guest’s seemingly infinite knowledge of local birds.
“Do you know all birds or just local ones?” Dottie was mesmerized.
“I don’t know. It seems that, as I see them, the knowledge assimilates in my mind. Indeed, I haven’t thought about how many I can recall. My head hurts if I try to force memories.”
“Good grief, girl, you don’t need to force anything. You obviously shouldn’t do that.” Harry looked at Elizabeth with concern.
Dottie smiled, as she considered that Harry must not want the girl’s memory to return too quickly.
Suddenly, Harry announced that it was time to go. Neither desired to have dinner with Mr. Donahue, but Harry had committed. Reluctantly they said, “Goodbye,” to Dottie. As Dottie turned with a sweet smile, her large hip rubbed the briefcase, which Harry had carried in earlier. It fell off the counter onto the floor. Elizabeth kneeled to pick up the papers which emptied. As she scooped them up, there was a picture of her transposed onto a flyer.
“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON,” typed in bold font. She held the brochure to her heart, as she looked at her host.
“You made that to help me?” All of this time, she thought that no one understood how much it hurt that there had been no one trying to locate her. Harry’s telephone number boldly displayed at the bottom of the colored flyer.
“You must know that I have more compassion than not considering your fate. It would be a terrible predicament, living with a stranger, while not knowing what happened to you and your family. Of course, I have thought about how you must feel.Yes, I have paid people to distribute them all over town. Don’t worry; we are going to find your family. Not because I want you to leave, but because I realize how much you want to go home.” The girl hugged him gently. Miss Dottie watched with fascination.
“I don’t know what we would do if you leave, Miss Elizabeth. We have become fond of you, right Mr. Harry?” Dottie seemed to be back to her old self. Such kindness was the behavior, which he expected from her.
Mr. Grover nodded sadly. Elizabeth dried her tears.
“Let’s get this over.” She smiled anxiously at Harry, as she walked ahead of him. His convertible Lexus sat in the driveway. When he entered the car, he began to raise the top.
“What are you doing? It is lovely outside tonight. Can’t we keep it down?”
Harry expressed surprise that she would want to ride with the top down. He explained that Edwina never wanted the top down.
“Well, I’m not Edwina. I love to have the top down.” Her reply was quick and bold.
He smiled widely. They drove slowly through the cold, early evening light with the heater on high. Together, they laughed at the silly impulse. The drive didn’t last long before they turned into a well-lighted road.
The house was lovely. It wasn’t nearly as grand as “Enchanted,” but pretty in a subtle way. The white Federalist house set deep in the lot. It had blue shutters with a dark blue roof. Gas lights presented a welcoming ambiance. A glistening white sign, with dark blue letters, announced: “Welcome to My Blue Heaven.” Harry smiled. He hummed the song.
Don Donahue opened the door before they could ring the chimes.
“What’s with you guys naming your houses after songs?” Elizabeth asked Harry, just as the gate opened. She wasn’t speaking brashly.
“Who are you to criticize the name of my home? Edwina helped me select the name to it long ago, probably before you were born.” Elizabeth fell back a step at his insolence.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything at all by my statement. Yes, I can see Edwina’s influence in the decor. It is beautiful.” She looked around at the impressive home which glowed in the late sun.
The couple entered slowly. A large room greeted them. It was painted Hunter green with bright red trim and accessories. It appeared masculine but tastefully complete. Dark wainscoting added to the manly feel. Donahue glared at her.
“See here, old man, no need to be rude to Elizabeth. She’s not used to your ways. Give her some slack.” Harry bristled that the evening was already off to a rocky start.
Donahue laughed loudly. Apparently, he had enjoyed a few drinks before his guest’s arrival. He did not respond.
Elizabeth removed the black wool coat, which she wore. The bright red dress glowed in the firelight. No lamps burned. The setting was perfect for a few friends to relax on a chilly evening.
“That is Edwina’s dress. Are you even wearing her clothes? Isn’t it bad enough that you are sleeping in her bed? Don’t you own anything?”
Harry and Elizabeth looked at each other in shock. Harry became infuriated with his friend. Words immediately exchanged so hotly that the young woman became afraid that they may trade blows.
“Please, Mr. Grover, let’s just leave. I don’t want you to be angry with him. He has consumed way too much alcohol. I’m sure that he doesn’t mean anything.”
Donahue stood with his head down and a cocktail in his hand. He closed the door to the coldness of outdoors. The couple was inside now regardless of their desires. The fire was comforting. Soft hisses and pops were the only sound except for faint background music. Harry recognized the Platters, Edwina’s favorite band. Softly he hummed, “Harbor Lights.” The two men stood toe-to-toe studying each other.
“Look; this is hard for me. I loved Edwina.” Donahue slurred his words.
“Are you crazy? You don’t think that I didn’t adore my wife? How dare you act as though you loved her more than me?” For the longest time, no words were exchanged. Finally, Donahue moved to the liquor cabinet.
“I apologize. What can I get you?” He turned with a sad look.
“A glass of Cabernet would be lovely. Thank you very much.” The girl softly replied.
Harry looked at the young woman who seemed to be a peacemaker. She always said and did the right thing, even though those around her were older and should have been wiser. He touched her hand. Donahue bristled at the sight. Obviously, he was going to have trouble accepting Elizabeth into his world. He poured a glass of red wine. Elizabeth recognized the label as the same which Harry poured for her earlier. Were the two men that close? They dressed similarly. Their homes resembled each other. Even the wines, which they drank, were the same. She took the glass without a word and walked to the mantle. Several photos stood displayed in gold frames. Each picture contained the same faces: Donahue, Edwina, and Harry. Where are his family members, she wondered?
Elizabeth looked ahead into the next room. A maid was putting finishing touches on the table. Another fireplace burned brightly in that room as well. The light reflected from heavy crystal glasses. The small dark woman lighted the candles. Then called them to dinner.
Elizabeth walked in front of Harry and Donahue.
“Elvira, this is Miss Elizabeth, and of course, you know Mr. Grover.”
Elvira was a small, dark woman who looked so sad. The maid attired in a black dress and shoes different colors but similar to Dottie. The maid did not speak. She nodded. Without a word, Elvira left the room. Her actions were very different behavior from Miss Dottie. Elizabeth smiled
as she thought of Dottie George. She preferred the opinionated Dottie to the silence of Elvira.
Everyone remained subdued during the entire meal. Penetrating looks of disapproval darted from the eyes of each of the men. Donahue starred at Elizabeth without displaying emotion. He was hard to read. Must be a poker player, she thought.
Most of the time, she would have attempted to relieve the stress, but she did not like Harry’s friend. He was a mean, nasty man. How had they remained friends through all of these years? There was no attempt at small talk. The evening seemed doomed.
Elvira would appear, at just the right time, and remove each course. Once, Donahue chided her for dropping a spoon. She bowed, as though he were royalty, with her eyes down. It was all chilling. The poor maid looked terrified. Elizabeth wanted to go home. Then, she realized that Harry’s house wasn’t home. In her mind, it had become such.
Donahue kept adding wine to his glass. Both she and Harry refused any more to drink.
“What’s up with you Harry? Trying to set an example for the youngster? She should know that you and Edwina once drank me under the table.” He laughed.
“What do you think about that, Princess?” He glared at her.
His face had become very red from the combination of fire and alcohol. Things seemed volatile to Elizabeth. She wanted to get Harry out of there.
“It is none of my business what Mr. Grover and his wife did earlier.” She tried to smile, but her lips refused to turn up. Instead, her lips jerked at the inebriated host.
“Mr. Grover is it? Do you call him that in bed?” Donahue now glared at Harry.
“Elvira, will you bring our coats? It is passed time for Ms. Elizabeth and me to go home.”
“What, can’t keep your hands off the hot little number?” Donahue was slurring his words.
Harry looked, in sympathy, at the shell of a man sitting in front of him. Now, he appeared sad with his insults. Obviously, he was lonely and miserable. Elvira brought their coats. Harry helped Elizabeth. Without further fanfare, they left. Donahue stood on the porch staring, as they drove away.
As Harry started the Lexus, they looked at each other. They laughed at how cold it had become. He immediately raised the top and turned the heat on high. Neither mentioned the disastrous night.
Finally, she spoke, “I am very sorry if I caused this. It would sadden me to think that I cost you an old friend. Tell me what to do to correct this.” Elizabeth felt responsible for the damaged friendship.
Harry leaned toward her. Gently, he whispered, “How about some ice cream? We didn’t get to finish our desserts. Not another word will be allowed about this crazy evening. Nothing that happened was your fault or mine.”
Elizabeth looked at this kind person. They drove in silence until they turned into a small diner. As they entered the local establishment, bright lights shined merrily. The atmosphere filled with laughter and ease. Everyone seemed to know Harry. Their plans changed from ice cream to Chocolate Pecan Pie smothered in Vanilla Bean ice cream. It was the perfect ending, to a not so perfect dinner, as the couple enjoyed a few new friends over a sweet morsel and neighborhood laughter.
TEN: AWAY
Many miles south of Millbrook another young woman Elizabeth’s age was preparing for bed. Gently, she hummed, “If Ever I Should Leave You,” from Camelot. That play meant so much to her, it always had. The lovely lady enjoyed older music, old movies, and board games. She was a terrible romantic.
Things were falling into place, in her life, much faster than she ever thought possible. Her small cottage, located on the Gulf of Mexico, was shrouded in darkness. It sat far back on the darkened road. Many women may have feared to live in such a remote location. Fear was not an emotion that she considered, not here. Susan was born on the Cape and knew most of the locals.
The temperature was brisk, but she was able to leave the sliders opened tonight. Night sounds reverberated in the stillness. Far away, an owl echoed his haunting sound. She only smiled, as she brushed her strawberry-blonde hair. Never, had she even considered living anywhere else. Why would she when she lived in Paradise?
All of her life, she had loved the same man. The memory of the first time they met, so long ago, ran through her mind. They had been friends from the moment that she dropped her pencil by his shoe in Psychology class, many years ago. Sometimes, she had overstepped boundaries by almost stating her feelings. Her emotions ran deep for this handsome, blonde man with a dark suntan. His blue eyes were penetrating. It was as if they looked into her very soul. How could he never know how deeply she loved him? He seemed to ignore her babbling comments. The handsome and perfect Jackson Barlow was her dream.
While they were in college, shortly after meeting Susan, he began dating Susan’s best friend. He would tell Susan how “perfect,” this friend was. Susan hated it but never dreamed that something would come of that relationship. Hopefully, she bided her time dreaming that he would realize she was the one. It was always, so clear to her, that the two were destined to be together.
Her best friend, Christine, was not worthy of Jackson. Susan’s world crashed, with the realization, that her dream would never come true. Out of the blue, her two friends announced an undying love for each other. Susan’s world shattered.
Quickly, Jackson married the woman with blue-black hair. The strawberry-blonde was forced to watch Jackson dote over her friend. It was she who was worthy of him. Even though her feelings remained hidden, over time, she hated the woman who “stole” her love. It became harder and harder to be around the woman who denied her dreams. After all of these years, she could not stop the love in her heart for Jackson. The three remained friends. In her heart, she detested her previous friend, Christine. Susan was now prevented from ending her friendship with Christine. Her only chance of spending time, with Jackson, seemed to be through her relationship with the woman she despised.
All of that was “old news.” The current information was that Jackson was spending more time with Susan. Last night, he finally kissed her. In her mind, they were already destined for marriage. Tonight, he invited her to dinner for tomorrow evening.
Excitement filled her when she looked forward to dinner at his house with the children. All of these things were an important step. Since his wife left him, all that he did was work and dote on his two daughters, Quincey and Madeline. If she could win their approval, she should be lovingly accepted. Then, all of her dreams would finally come true. Her way had been long and arduous, but patience was finally paying off. Marriage, to Jackson, would provide an instant family. No stretch marks or pain, just a happy family.
Susan walked onto the deck of her small home. Her father built it for her, just before his death three years ago. She loved the little saltbox house. Night sounds reverberated through the thick air. A light north wind blew. It was impossible not to think of the handsome Jackson. Her obsession with him dominated her life. Already, she planned their marriage. It would be difficult to leave her treasured home. Maybe she could rent her small home; once she married Jackson. They would need the rental income. Jackson’s two little girls had champagne tastes. If she could provide them beautiful clothes and jewelry, it would help her steal their hearts.
Two women, so many miles apart, who were on the verge of making their dreams come true. One schemed and lied her way, but her actions had gone undetected. The other was innocent. She only searched for love and security.
The lights, across the bay, twinkled brightly through the mist. Suddenly, the winds changed. Now, a soft southern breeze blew the salty smells of the dark bay waters which contained thriving ocean life. She breathed deeply. Studying the lights, she tried to determine exactly where Jackson’s house stood. The general location, she knew but not the exact. Her thoughts returned each night to Gatsby and Daisy.
The lights had been a connection for Gatsby; they were also for her. Her mind was not damaged but deceived by her illusions. It appeared that she had actually “willed,” Jackson to fall in love w
ith her. If she was perfect; he would love her. She must not make any mistakes, such as yelling at the children, or losing her temper. Her flaws were all to raw to her.
Since she was a little girl, Susan struggled with a short fuse. Her father said, “She was his girl,” because he too had a temper. Once, Susan experienced a terrible confrontation with a friend. It turned out badly. She refused to think about it tonight. Now, it was time to bask in the glow of the realization that she was on the verge of living a magnificent dream. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson Barlow was a real possibility.
Twirling around in the cool night air, she turned quicker and faster until she collapsed on the cold tile floor. Pulling her legs into her stomach, she hugged her body. Soon, her husband would hold her close.
Marriage never happened to her. It was embarrassing to be almost forty and unmarried. People must think her strange. No one ever mattered to her but Jackson. He would be surprised to learn that she was a virgin. What a prize he was receiving!
Stumbling slightly, she pulled herself off the cold tile. Her nightgown was damp. She was wet with the mist of soft rain. Running her hands through her beautiful hair, she smiled. Her wedding dress could be white. Unlike people, who married a second or third time and wore a white gown, she could wear it with pride and honesty. Jackson’s two girls would be her bridesmaids. They must wear the palest of pink dresses. All of the girls would wear a crown of baby’s breath dyed pink. The wedding would be here on the grounds of her little house. It would be perfect.
Across the bay, Jackson stood on his terrace. He also looked, across the large body of water, certain that he looked at the little cottage of Susan. Was he making a mistake? It seemed that she was perfect for him. Loneliness drove him to find solace. The girls needed a mother. He needed a wife. Susan was lovely, not beautiful but soft and feminine. Tomorrow was important. If his girls liked her, eventually, he would invite her into their world. He prayed for guidance. He could not make a decision which would hurt them again. The loss of his wife had been devastating. Slowly, he walked inside. Tomorrow could be a game changer for his family.