The Glass House
Page 18
"Excuse me," Bennett said, as he stood up and walked toward the doors.
"Mother," he answered, as he passed through the oval reception room. His smart and sturdy dress shoes clacked against the foyer floor as he entered, and turned to go up one side of the staircase.
"Oh, I didn't think you were going to answer," Evelyn said, finding her voice.
"I would have phoned this evening if you hadn't," Bennett said, as he reached the top of the stairs and went straight down the long corridor toward his study. He couldn't help but glance at the closed door to Elisabeth's old bedroom as he walked by.
"Somehow, I don't believe that, but in any case, here we are. Finally."
Bennett exhaled a small unbelieving laugh as he entered his study and stopped in front of his desk. "I daresay that attitude isn't helping the situation."
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. "Bennett Theodore," she started.
"Now see here, Mother, I have a few things to say and none of it will be said unless you actually listen to me. I expect to get through it all without being interrupted, and if I can't, then this phone call will end. Those are the boundaries. Now, are we going to have a conversation or will it finish here?"
Evelyn was somewhat stunned and her eyes were wide as she looked about the room and removed her glasses from the end of her nose. "Well, I certainly want to hear what you have to say, Darling. Although, one doesn't expect to hear one's own son speak to her in such a manner, especially - "
"Mother. Please. This is not the time. It's been a very difficult week."
Evelyn placed her glasses on her writing desk. "Is that why I've not heard from you?" she asked.
"Yes."
Bennett told his mother about Elisabeth's parents and about her request to keep the information private and low profile. Elisabeth didn't want a fuss for a memorial or from anyone around her. She just wanted to get through it. Evelyn listened, holding her tongue and all of the countless comments she wanted to intercede with. He told Evelyn the cremation was the next day, and after that, Elisabeth was anxious to get on with planning the wedding.
"Speaking of which," Bennett changed the subject. He'd been speaking and Evelyn had been listening the entire time, as requested. Evelyn sat up a little straighter. "I understand you phoned Anabelle a few days ago."
The phone went quiet.
"Mother?"
"Yes, darling I'm here. I did phone her, yes. I was trying to get on with a few things."
"And what did Anabelle say?" Bennett asked, knowing exactly how the conversation went.
"She told me you signed a contract with her and paid for her services through the spring. But your father and I were paying the bill, and we thought you were having the wedding at the end of summer. And - "
"That's the other thing we need to speak about."
Evelyn bit her tongue. She wouldn't normally have let her son (or anyone) cut her off, for any reason at any time. However, she understood from her son's tone and impending marriage that her influence over his life was very much slowing down, and she wasn't about to make it worse by harping on at him when she had bigger questions on her mind – like the wedding.
"I truly felt I had no choice but to take that course of action. Your lack of support and encouragement toward our wedding has been very disappointing."
Evelyn held back rolling her eyes as she readjusted herself in her chair. She understood that to be a cue to voice her support.
"I'm listening," she managed.
"You adore Elisabeth, and I know somewhere you feel the same way about me, so why could you not demonstrate that during the last meeting with Anabelle?" Bennett asked, one hand still on his hip. He was getting more talkative and thorough than he really ever had with his mother.
Evelyn put a hand to her chest. "What are you saying? Of course I do, Bennett, really."
"No, Mother, I'm serious. Your behaviour has not been loving. And frankly, I'm not interested in any excuse you have for trying to take over, and plant ideas into my fiancée's head about how you think a wedding ought to be. You made her cry, Mother."
"Bennett!"
"Stop saying my name. If you can't answer me squarely, this conversation is ending."
Evelyn was speechless. Her hand remained on her chest and her mouth was open. "Well, I don't quite know what to say."
"Perhaps you could apologise."
Evelyn exhaled an amused laugh.
"Or do you truly believe that you are always completely blameless?" Bennett asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I think I've heard quite enough. I don't like the way you're speaking to me."
"It's not the way I'm speaking to you, Mother. You don't like what I'm saying. The least you could do is grant me a truthful reply."
"About what?" she asked, clearly offended.
Bennett raised his eyebrows.
"Right, then you can phone back when you've thought through all I've said. I told you my concerns and you've chosen not to listen or to respond."
"You want me to apologise for something I didn't do."
"Goodbye, Mother," Bennett said, and ended the call. He held out one hand and watched it shake and then quickly shook his head and replaced his phone inside his blazer pocket. "Damn," he muttered, as he closed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Blasted damn."
Chapter Thirteen
The numbness hadn't gone away. Elisabeth awoke the next morning feeling like a horrible dream had seeped through the boundaries of reality and completely stole her joy. Then she realised – it wasn't a horrible dream – she really was an orphan.
The memorial service had been short but touching. Several neighbours, a third cousin, the nurse aides, some old classmates of her mother's and several people Elisabeth didn't know had been in attendance besides Bennett and her three friends. There was a catered buffet luncheon in the beautiful dining room at the funeral home next door to the crematorium although Elisabeth had no desire to eat or to be social. Or even civil. Bennett told Elisabeth he expected her to say hello and thank you to everyone who attended, but nothing more was required if she couldn't manage it.
She looked younger than her nineteen years, but grief made her look even younger. Her always classic and somewhat juvenile wardrobe embraced the look of abandon and loneliness in her eyes. When she met eyes with Bennett, she appeared to be a little girl who needed to be taken home and looked after.
"I need some air," she said, when the luncheon was at its peak for socialising. Elisabeth turned and walked away from Bennett as he was speaking to someone from her mother's past. Emma spotted her leaving and, as if she had been a predator lying in wait, followed Elisabeth straight out of the dining room.
The crematorium gardens were beautiful although they were nothing compared to the immaculate and extravagant landscaping of Barton-Court House or Waldorf Manor.
"Oy!"
Elisabeth stopped walking, but she didn't turn around.
"It seems like that's all you've done today is run off."
Elisabeth closed her eyes and when she opened them, Emma had walked around and was standing directly in front of her.
"Emma, please. Not today," she said weakly.
"I haven't seen you in months," was all Emma could spit out.
One of the doors opened and Bennett walked straight toward them.
"I guess that our conversation over then," Emma said, glancing at Bennett. She'd not had more than a limp hug from Elisabeth since before the service that morning and no more than a weak smile afterward.
"Girls," he said, as he approached. Emma looked away when Bennett put a hand on Elisabeth's back. His handsome, black three-piece suit made Emma want to roll her eyes at him even more. "Is everything all right?" he asked. He was looking at Elisabeth, then glanced at Emma.
Elisabeth nodded.
"Emma?"
She couldn't resist looking at him, albeit with a sour expression.
"Nothing. I'm fine," she looked away again.
"I understan
d you two have some catching up to do, but today isn't an appropriate time." Bennett looked at both of them.
"Fine. We'll just wait until there's another funeral to see each other, I suppose. Or maybe the next event will be a wedding."
"I beg your pardon?" Bennett asked. He raised his eyebrows and regardless of Emma's preferences or dispositions, she couldn't help but look away. Bennett had that kind of effect on people, especially girls ten years his junior.
"Why don't you sit down for a moment, Darling," Bennett spoke quietly to Elisabeth, indicating the nearby bench that faced the crematorium gardens. Elisabeth didn't hesitate. She would much rather Bennett handle Emma; she just didn't have the energy.
"Why don't we take a little walk, Emma," Bennett suggested, in a voice that told her she really had no choice. Emma wasn't amused, but she followed him along the path anyway.
"I realise we don't know each other beyond our first meeting the day Elisabeth came to live with me and the few emails we've exchanged prior to the service today, but I'm going to warn you to mind your tone when speaking to me."
Bennett stopped walking and turned to face the young, petite girl. She looked ridiculous staring up at Bennett with a rebellious frown on her face. Emma was fiercely protective of her friendship with Elisabeth and clearly not amused by having lost contact with her for several months.
"That kind of talk might work on Elisabeth, but – "
"Precisely what you could use a good thrashing on," Bennett replied, flatly.
Emma's mouth dropped open.
"Let me make something very clear to you, young lady; Elisabeth is my fiancée. She may be your childhood friend, but I chose her, and we are to be married soon. Elisabeth is not to be criticised without it going through me first. If you want to be cross with someone, it should be me; I am the one who ensured she had no contact with you, the other girls or anyone else during her transition to my estate."
Emma stared back at him.
"I understand you have a lot to catch up on, but her parents' funeral is not the place," Bennett replied.
"I don't have any other choice because that day you walked out of Starbucks with my best friend and left me absolutely no indication of whether I'd ever see her again. I didn't know who you were, and now I finally see her for the first time in months, and she's wearing the biggest, most ridiculous engagement ring I've ever seen."
"Surely you couldn't be more subtle about your happiness for Elisabeth," Bennett replied sarcastically, although he was still in control of the conversation.
"It's difficult to be happy for her when I don't know what the bloody hell is going on!"
Bennett slowly raised his finger. "Do not swear whilst speaking to me."
She swallowed slowly as a frown remained across her eyebrows.
"I would appreciate an apology."
"Sorry," Emma muttered, glancing over at Elisabeth on the bench across the gardens. She looked pale and weak in the black pinafore and white Peter Pan blouse. Emma shook her head and looked away. "What's happened to her?"
"She's grieving," Bennett replied, thinking it was rather a silly question.
"Elisabeth doesn't wear dresses." Emma turned back to him. She was confident, but she also made a point to control her tone. Bennett wasn't a pushover.
"She does now." He watched Emma meet his eyes, then turned and slowly continued along the path. Emma followed. "I don't need to explain to you how her previous life was lacking."
"Her parents couldn't help that," Emma replied automatically.
Bennett put his arms behind his back, so they rested behind his blazer, and he glanced sideways at her. "We are all aware it couldn't be helped, it is a fact, nevertheless."
"Her parents were lovely even if they couldn't be good parents to her."
"I know they were, and so is she," he replied.
"I've really missed her." Emma stopped walking as her voice betrayed the front she'd been putting on.
"Elisabeth has missed you girls, even if she can't show it today." Bennett paused his stride and watched as she pushed wind-blown stray hairs out of her face.
Emma frowned and ran one hand through her hair before hiding her hands in the front pockets of her imitation leather jacket. Elisabeth's friends dressed like most girls their age, but it seemed so much more 'modern' when Bennett and Elisabeth were blatantly formal and classic.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Bennett looked sideways at Emma as they carried on walking along the path; Bennett in his handsome suit with his hands behind his back, six feet six inches of pure, confident male and Emma, a girl on the cusp of adulthood, looking up at him as she waited for a response.
"Quite sure," he replied. "Whilst I don't apologise for taking Elisabeth and giving her the life she needs and deserves, I appreciate that you are fiercely protective of her."
Emma couldn't look at Bennett when he complimented her. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and moved her hands to the back pockets of her slim trousers. "But it's my job to fiercely protect her, and it has been since the day she came home with me."
Emma stopped walking and looked up at him. "It's your job, young lady, to be happy for her."
Emma averted her eyes when he referred to her as 'young lady.'
"That means I fully expect all three of you girls to be part of the wedding."
Her eyes shot up to Bennett's.
"You want us there?" Emma asked.
"Yes," Bennett replied, factually. "But it depends."
"On?"
"If you can behave yourselves and are willing to accept things as they are. You will find Elisabeth quite adapted to a new way of life. I expect you to be understanding and respect the way my social circle conducts behaviour. It won't do for you to be there on the most important day of her life, and spend the entire time moping."
Emma frowned. "I wouldn't mope!"
Bennett raised an eyebrow. "Well, I certainly hope not."
"Sometimes posh people can be intimidating and strange," Emma tried to justify.
"I'll thank you to keep those kinds of judgements to yourself. There are just as many stereotypes looking at our circle as there are looking at yours, and none of them are helpful. If you want to be part of Elisabeth's life moving forward, you need to accept the one she's walked into, and do your best to be understanding of how things are done."
Emma nodded.
"You know I'm only speaking to you at the moment because you seem to be the ringleader of this little group," Bennett said.
Emma cracked a smile. "What is it Elisabeth would say to that? Yes, Sir?"
"That's exactly what she would say," Bennett replied.
"Well, then, this is me adapting; 'Yes, Sir, I am and always have been, the ringleader," Emma replied.
He nodded and raised an eyebrow. "How about the other part?"
"You mean not being jealous that my best friend just got swept off her feet and is having the kind of life we all secretly want?" Emma replied, without pausing for breath.
"I'm not sure you would want all that Elisabeth has, but in any case, don't be so certain you can't have it." Bennett looked down and nodded. "Do up your coat, Emma, it's turning chilly," he said.
Her smile faded and she looked down at the zipper of her imitation leather jacket with both sides hanging open, then slowly zipped it up.
Whatever had attracted Elisabeth to this man had been a complete mystery to her when she thought back to the morning Bennett took Elisabeth out of Starbucks. Of course, back then, he had made it clear that Elisabeth was moving to his estate because she needed a bit of discipline in her life. Then, having seen the ring on Elisabeth's finger, how she responded to Bennett and even how she grieved around him in those few, short hours, she seemed so peaceful in her grief. Emma could see why; Bennett handled Elisabeth's fragile heart quite well despite the impression she'd assumed about him. Emma had been wrong about Bennett, even from what little she knew of him.
For Emma, a young adult wh
o was the same age as her friend but knowing nothing of the things Elisabeth craved or her experiences with Bennett, she felt a warm tingly sensation in her chest when Bennett told her to do up her coat. Emma pushed her lips upward in a warm smile as she carried on walking beside him. Even if she wouldn't ever say it to him directly, Emma approved of Bennett Fowler.
* * * * *
Alice paced the foyer that afternoon in great anticipation. She was waiting for Elisabeth and Bennett to arrive back from the service and cremation, and having been on a narrow path of being raised properly, Alice had learned the importance of empathy. Therefore, she thought it extremely important to wait for Elisabeth to arrive home and be greeted with her rehearsed, but heartfelt, 'I'm sorry today was difficult for you, Elisabeth. Rest assured I will be available for cuddles at any time.' Alice repeated it to herself as she paced the foyer, her skinny white arms neatly resting atop the sash tied into a bow at the back of her dress.
"Darling, why aren't you waiting for me in the music room?" Brayden asked, as he descended the grand staircase. He may have used a pet name, but he would use her full name if she stalled any longer. She was perfectly aware of what time her piano lesson started.
Alice paused and looked up. He suddenly realised his daughter's agenda; she had a very decided posture about her that gave the reason for her pacing. "You can see Elisabeth later this afternoon. Come along," Brayden said, as he reached the foyer and held out his hand toward her. "Pacing isn't for little girls in any case."
"Do you think Uncle Bennett will ask me to play piano at their wedding?" she asked, as they walked down the long corridor, then turned left at the end.
Brayden glanced at the closed ballroom doors to their right, finding it unavoidable to look at them and not think of Anabelle. He refocused his attention on the music room double doors ahead of them, at the end of the short corridor.
"Flower girls don't usually have dual roles."
Alice dragged her feet. "Oh no, I'm not going to be the flower girl!"
Brayden opened one of the music room doors. "That's not for you to worry about. Come along, in you go." He nodded her through.