While we waited for the attendant to open the door for our exit, I found myself sniffing the air, searching for traces of jasmine and lily, but here at least, I was free from that obnoxious perfume. I much preferred the depressing nursing home smells to Savannah's signature scent.
Nineteen
Nathan didn't want to return to work after we left the nursing home. Maybe he was feeling bad about the visit with his grandmother, but whatever the reason, he decided to spend more time with me.
We ate a late lunch together at a local restaurant that was famous for its fried chicken, and we stopped at a studio where a local potter worked. I was astonished at the man's talent and found out he was a world-renowned artist.
“What do you think about this one? Too colorful for Peacock Alley?” Nathan held up a large horse figurine, decorated with multi-colored swirls.
“No, I like that one a lot. I think it would fit right in to your library. What about this tray for your dresser? You need somewhere to put your change when you are getting undressed each night.”
“I like the blue. And are you calling me a slob?” He laughed as I passed the piece over to him for his inspection.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.” My eyes lit up with my smile. “But maybe you need a little help from time to time.”
We bought several colorful pieces for the house, and I vowed to come back in the future and shop some more. Nathan wanted my opinion on everything we purchased. I was pleased that some of my choices would now make their way into the estate, and I resolved to sneak in more of my preferences for the house in the future.
Later, we took a long, leisurely drive. He finally showed me the majestic Mississippi River, and I marveled at the muddy water and the distance between the banks. We also saw several Indian burial mounds and a picturesque country church.
Mostly we saw acres and acres of farmland with a variety of different crops, like soybeans and corn that had withered in the heat. I noted that the cotton didn't seem bothered by the dry weather at all.
I didn't care what we saw on that drive. I enjoyed spending time with my husband and talking about everyday things. There was no mention of dead wives or ill grandmothers. Our respective mothers' voices were mercifully absent, and it was a lovely, peaceful day for us to act like the newlyweds we were.
At one point we stopped the car and got out to take a closer look at the river. I asked him about the barges floating by, fascinated by the activity.
“Where are the barges going? There’s so many. And how do they keep from crashing into each other?”
Nathan surprised me when he interrupted my questions about the river with an abrupt change of subject.
“What do you think about having a baby sometime soon?” The breeze had picked up, and Nathan took a moment to brush my curls out of my face.
“I don’t know. Seems a little crazy, to be honest. We just got married, after all.” I glanced up to see if he was offended by my words.
“I know. We rushed the marriage, and now I’m saying I want a baby. It is crazy.” Nathan fell silent, but he didn’t look upset, just thoughtful.
I could tell we were both intrigued by the thought of starting a family, even it was a terrible idea this soon in our relationship. Part of me recognized that Savannah had never given him a baby, and this act would be uniquely mine. I would be the mother of his children, an area where dead Savannah couldn't compete. I knew that was a terrible reason to have a child, but I didn't worry about it much.
I was confident my primary motivation was that vision I had a couple of months earlier, of baby Nathans playing in the fields. Now that I was more familiar with Peacock Alley, I could see the exact places they might play.
“What do you think about putting in a playset and maybe a sandbox close to the back of the house?” I wanted to know that the imposing estate would be baby friendly before I committed to getting pregnant.
Nathan seemed to like my ideas, and that gave me the confidence to say more. "I know you think you are getting old, and you want to get your family started. I also know you think I'm a little young to be committing to motherhood. I think the answer is somewhere in the middle. Maybe we need a little more time to adjust to married life together, but I think we are both more ready than we realize." I smiled and looked out over the rolling river for a moment.
We were both lost in our own private musings. What was Nathan thinking about now?
I stopped on the riverbank, wanting to share one more thought before we went on. I gazed up at him, and my adoration for him was clear to see. "And I know you will be a wonderful father, no matter what our timing."
We were still walking hand in hand, and never more in love with each other. Nathan said as much, and then squeezed my hand.
"Any baby we have will be the result of all this love that we have cultivated between us. I know things aren't perfect. When it is just the two of us, I think things are great, but you have been dropped into a pressure-packed situation, sweet girl."
He kissed my hand where it joined his. "I don't think I realized how hard the transition would be for you. I don't want to rush you, but I can hardly wait to have children running up and down the halls of Peacock Alley. I can't think of anything I want more."
Nathan stopped to pick up a small stone, and he chucked it into the river with a satisfying splash. We halted for a minute to watch Canadian geese flying in formation over our heads. I loved the sound of rushing air that came from the furious action of their wings, and the loud honking as they called to one another.
He turned back to me. "I've told you before, I deliberately rushed you into this marriage, and I'm trying very hard not to rush you into motherhood. The problem is I'm learning that I'm a greedy bastard when it comes to you, Darby. I want it all, and I want it all right now." He grinned ruefully, and I couldn't help myself, I was charmed all over again.
I loved my husband so much.
“We don’t have to figure everything out today. It’s enough that we are talking about expanding our little family.” Nathan turned to me and hugged me closer as he spoke. I could feel how much he loved me in that simple gesture.
“Maybe I should stop taking the pill, and we can use condoms for a while. That way whenever we do become ready, my body would already be adjusted to being off the hormones.”
I was tentative in my offer because I wasn’t sure if it was really a good idea. Nathan did not like using condoms, and I couldn't see him tolerating them for long.
Nathan made a face but then laughed. “Okay, I guess we can give it a try.”
I was okay with that reply. The important thing I wanted to focus on today was how my marriage seemed to get stronger with every passing day.
True, meeting Nathan’s grandmother had been a disaster. There was no other way to spin it. But I loved how the rest of the day had turned out.
Nathan was right. We had rushed into this marriage, but I did not regret our haste at all. And it seemed that my husband didn’t regret it, either.
Twenty
It was late afternoon before we found ourselves back at home. Nathan went to check his messages, and I decided to take a walk after being confined to the car for so long. My legs were tired from the car ride, and I knew some exercise would make me feel better. It wasn't so brutally hot, and the air had a feeling of late summer at last.
It seemed as if summer was finally dying, but it was not going to let go without a fight.
I set out in a new direction, on a path that I had long known about, but hadn't yet explored. I had found the path just beyond the tiny chapel. One of the many things I loved about Peacock Alley was that there was always something new to discover. Today's path wound through an extensive stand of towering pine trees, and many pine needles were covering my way, making it slippery and fragrant. Pinecones were starting to fall, and I was amazed at how large they were. I made a note to come back with a basket, and collect pinecones for the fireplace in our bedroom.
I didn't
expect the path to take me so far, but I was enjoying my journey. The sunlight was beautiful, but not scorching for once. My enjoyable afternoon with my husband had left me relaxed and happy, and I could appreciate the beauty of the nature I found all around me. Fat squirrels jumped from tree to tree, busily preparing for the winter that still seemed so far away, and blackbirds cawed raucously, telling me summer was almost over.
Suddenly, the trees parted, and I reached a clearing. I paused and looked upon several rows of old tombstones.
It was an eerie site, surrounded by old fencing and sheltered from the sun by a few stately oak trees. At first, I almost turned around and went back to the house. Wandering around an old cemetery didn’t seem to fit my peaceful mood. The history of the place called to me, however, and I kept walking forward.
Intrigued, I opened the squeaky wrought iron gate and went inside. There were dozens of graves, rows upon rows lined up like decrepit soldiers, and many were very old. It was a tidy plot, despite its age. I imagined Maxwell and his crew made their way over here often, cutting the grass and pulling weeds around the headstones. Even the oldest graves were carefully tended. I saw one or two headstones that had broken in two, but someone had taken the time to use cement to bond the halves together.
Overall, the cemetery was a pleasant place. Despite the obvious overtones of death and separation, care had been taken to make this a comfortable place to remember dearly departed family and to grieve their loss.
Granite benches stood guard under ancient oaks that spread their branches to offer shade from the unrelenting sun. A few wind chimes hung from the overhead limbs, softly singing their discordant songs. Above-ground tombs scattered the landscape here and there, giving relief from the strict rows of graves.
A quick scan of the oldest looking stones confirmed my belief that this was the Randolph family cemetery, and it dated back to the beginnings of the estate. I walked up and down the rows, delighting in the old-fashioned names, and the quaint epitaphs carved in stone. I was thrilled to find an old marker with a gardenia blossom carved upon it; this must have been the ancestor who loved the gardenias so much. I traced the blossom with my finger, marveling at the old stone work.
Some of the headstones were so old they were hard to read. I frowned over the number of babies that had died in infancy, reminding myself that times before modern medicine had been painful even for the very wealthy. I reflected back to my earlier discussion with Nathan about having a baby, and I felt sad for these mothers who had lived before me and known such terrible loss.
I walked down row after row, and the graves became progressively newer as I went. I stopped in my tracks, surprised. I had reached the newest section of the cemetery, and in front of me was Savannah's grave. The stone was simple, just her name and birth and death dates, and one line: "What We Keep in Memory We Keep Forever."
Glancing down, I noticed a fresh red rose was lying on her grave. I was petty enough to be displeased at the find. Nathan's handiwork or Mother's? I suspected Mother was responsible because the rose didn't look as if it had been in the hot sun all day.
I realized that the stone marked an empty grave because her body still rested in the lake. The thought was sobering, and I regretted begrudging Savannah the rose. How sad was it that her body had never been found? Savannah had many admirers, and they all deserved closure. How difficult it must be to mourn at an empty grave.
A peacock screeched in the distance, and I jumped in fright at the unexpected noise. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Suddenly, I had a strong feeling I wasn't alone. My heart pounded. Turning, I looked all around and didn't see anyone. Perhaps someone was standing just beyond the first trees, watching me? There was no way for me to know.
I walked away from Savannah’s grave, and made my way back to the gate. There was no reason for anyone to be watching me, but I couldn’t shake my uneasy feeling.
Twenty-One
That evening Tom Nolan and his wife, Beth, joined us for dinner, and they sat directly across from us. The couple had been to the house several times since Nathan and I had married, and I enjoyed their company. We got along great. They never referred to my age, and most importantly, Tom never brought up Savannah. His wife had only done it once.
Tonight, however, Beth brought up Savannah in a roundabout way before the first course was served at dinner.
"I just realized, Nathan, that it is the beginning of October already. Are you planning on having the masquerade?"
An uncomfortable silence fell across the room. Confused, I looked from face to face. No one seemed to want to make eye contact with anyone else. Even Mother didn’t have anything to say for once. Nathan tapped his spoon against the lace tablecloth and didn’t reply.
Maxwell clarified the situation for me. "There has been a masquerade ball at Peacock Alley to celebrate Halloween since the house was first built. So, almost 200 years of masquerades. The party has never missed a year. Scaled way back, sure, during times of war, but it has always been held."
He paused as if waiting for someone else to speak and continue the story. When no one did, I spoke up.
“I’m sorry. If the ball has never missed a year, why would we skip it this year?” I toyed with my butter knife as I asked my question.
Still no one answered.
Maxwell took a drink of his iced tea and went on.
"Savannah took the boat out last year after the ball ended at midnight."
Now it all made sense. I remembered seeing Savannah’s grave in the Randolph family cemetery. Her date of death had been listed as November 1 of the previous year. She must have died in the early morning hours of that day.
I couldn’t help but feel that Savannah was still the center of everyone’s attention.
Tom unfolded his napkin as he nodded at Maxwell. “I wasn’t sure if Nathan would want to hold the ball this year, after last year’s accident.”
Beth frowned, genuinely concerned about having brought up such a touchy subject. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I know this is a terrible topic of conversation, but people will persist in asking. However, no one will blame you if you decide to break the tradition."
"I have been thinking about it." He idly twirled his wine glass, holding it aloft by the stem. The red wine looked a lot like blood in the flickering light emitted by the gas chandelier overhead.
"I guess the easiest thing would be to just have the masquerade. And Darby might enjoy it. She hasn't had a lot of fun since we got married." Nathan looked my direction, a question in his eyes.
I sat up straighter when I realized all eyes were on me. "It does sound like fun, but don't do it just for me. If you would rather not bother with it, just say so. Beth is right. No one will think twice about it if you decide not to have a party."
I laid my hand over Nathan’s hand. I wanted to show him that I supported him always. He squeezed my hand.
"No, let's do it. Mother, will you organize all the details? I know you like that sort of thing."
"Of course, and Miss Turner can help me, if it pleases her." Mother turned her icy gaze on me.
Nathan looked happy that I was being included in the planning.
What? She wants my help? Although I loved the idea of planning a good party, and something told me I would have quite the budget to work with for this particular party, I didn't trust Mother one bit.
I remembered Nathan's comment about watching out for snakes in unexpected places.
"I would love to help." I smiled the biggest smile and looked directly at Mother. If she thought I wasn’t up to the challenge of planning this party, I would show her she was wrong.
Game on.
Twenty-Two
The next morning Nathan gave me my first horseback riding lesson. His teaching started in our room, early. He produced a few shopping bags with a proud flourish.
"First, you need the proper attire to ride. I took the liberty of buying you a few items." He pulled out a pair of black pants and showed me how they had leather
patches, making them function a little like chaps. "And here is a shirt that buttons to the pants so that it won't be riding up and distracting you."
“I didn't know I needed special clothes just to ride a horse.” I grabbed the pants when Nathan tossed them in my direction.
"Here's your helmet. Got to protect your head." He rummaged in the bags some more. "And boots, of course, to protect your feet."
I was a little overwhelmed by all the equipment. "What are you wearing?"
"A t-shirt, jeans, and boots." He laughed at my "are you kidding" look.
"I just like shopping for you. It's fun." He slapped me on the backside. "Get dressed so we can head out."
I stripped out of my clothing, but before I could put on my items, he pounced. "On second thought, maybe you need the lesson to start right now."
He took me over to the sofa, and hastily undid his pants before sitting down.
"Come on, Darby." His voice had deepened. "Mount up." His eyes had a wicked glint in them, and he winked at me.
He grabbed my hands and helped me straddle his lap.
"When you ride, it is important to keep your toes up, heels down. Don't ever let your feet point downwards. Do it like this."
He positioned my toes on the edge of the cushion, and I gripped his shoulders to help keep me balanced.
"Keep all of your weight on the balls of your feet, and let your heels drop." His voice had roughened with desire.
Once I was in position, I felt awkward. I had to concentrate hard to keep my heels down.
“This is really difficult.” I squirmed, uncomfortable in this position.
Nathan circled my clit with one slow, patient finger, and I soon forgot my awkwardness and surrendered to the sensations he was producing in me.
He took hold of my waist and helped me maneuver down onto his cock. He lifted me up, and I slid back down. We repeated this rhythm over and over until I had it on my own. My leg muscles were screaming for mercy, but I wasn't worried about that all. Not as long as the rest of my body was feeling so good.
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