Disturbing the Peace (Sunday Cove)

by Webb, Peggy

“Oh, the legend.” Aunt Syl clapped. “You never did tell me the details.”

  “Some say it started on a moonlit night,” Clara said. “Some say it was in the broad light of day, with the sun shining right down on the ashes of Camelot by the Sea, the mansion owned by Sunday Cove’s founder, Colonel Joseph Lancaster.”

  “That is so romantic,” Aunt Syl said.

  “Syl, you’re a hopeless romantic. You haven’t even heard the best part yet.”

  Amy was determined to shut out this conversation. She didn’t believe in a second chance at love for herself, especially in the span of a few days; and she certainly didn’t believe she’d been caught up in the spell of a legend whose details were bound to be obscured by the passage of time and too many retellings.

  Still, she found herself caught up in the tale of Belle, the Colonel’s daughter, who was devastated by the burning of her home and the loss of her mother. She could picture Belle in the charred remains of what had once been a magnificent garden, mourning her losses and wondering what kind of future she would have with her Rebel Captain Jim Smith, a future pledged on a pile of rubble.

  “Everywhere her tears fell,” Clara was saying, “an orange tree sprang up, full grown and loaded with blossoms. The charred grass became green again and birds of every feather flew in to sing. What had once seemed hopeless became a symbol of rebirth.”

  In spite of herself, Amy got caught up in the legend. By the time her aunt’s friend told of Belle’s wedding and the scent of orange blossoms that lingered over Sunday Cove to bring true lovers together, the scent of orange blossoms was everywhere, even in Amy’s tears.

  o0o

  “Goodnight, dear.” Aunt Syl had a pink silk night cap over her cream puffs of hair.

  “Goodnight, Aunt Syl. Thank you for a lovely day.”

  “Oh, wasn’t it just marvelous! Sweet dreams, dear.”

  “You, too.”

  The thought of Todd was so strong Amy could almost hear his laughter echoing through the apartment. Suddenly she remembered the unopened note in her pocket.

  The paper rattled as she unfolded it. Todd’s handwriting leaped out at her, bold and uncluttered.

  You are my rainbow and the sunlight that fills my soul.

  She ran her fingers across the words, trying to capture the man through his writing. Had she done the right thing, sending him away? She wasn’t even certain why she had ended the relationship. She knew only that it was better to lose him now, when the hurt would be small, than later, when the hurt would be a gaping hole that couldn’t be filled.

  There was more to the note: I’m having a small party in my apartment tomorrow night at seven. Please be there.

  This would never do. It was bad enough that she’d already entangled him in her upside-down life. She shoved the note back into her pocket and paced the floor. She had to get out of the apartment. She had to do something, anything, to relieve herself of painful introspection.

  Hastily she scribbled a note in case Aunt Syl should wake and find her gone. She ran a brush through her hair and hurried out the door.

  She walked aimlessly at first, and then, after the theater marquee caught her eye, with purpose. She loved movies. If anything in the world could take her mind off her problems, it would be a good movie. She bought her ticket without even bothering to see what was playing.

  When she entered the theater lobby and smelled the popcorn, she knew she had made the right decision. A movie and popcorn, a double panacea. She bought a huge box of the buttered treat and slipped into a seat at the back of the darkened theater. She had the back row all to herself.

  The first thing she noticed was the actor’s blue eyes. She stuffed popcorn into her mouth and tried not to think of Judge Todd Cunningham’s remarkable blue eyes. Eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed, eyes that sparkled like the sun on the Gulf when he smiled, eyes that turned dark navy when he made love. She didn’t hear a word the actor said. His hair was dark, almost as black as Todd’s. She wondered if it felt crisp, like Todd’s. She wondered if it would curl around her finger as if it had a mind of its own.

  She thought the actor shot somebody, but she wasn’t sure.

  Another late-night movie patron sat down beside her. She felt the hair rise on her arms as a leg brushed against hers, a muscular leg, a man’s leg. She kept her eyes on the screen, wondering why he didn’t sit somewhere else.

  Suddenly she saw a big hand reach into her bucket of popcorn.

  “Do you mind?” the man asked. “I forgot to buy some.”

  She jerked her head around at the sound of that familiar voice. Todd’s smile lit up the theater.

  “Are you following me?” she whispered fiercely.

  “No. Are you following me?” He helped himself to her popcorn, deliberately resting one hand on her leg.

  “I was here first.”

  “No, you weren’t. I was sitting across the aisle and saw you come in.”

  The heat of his hand was beginning to make her lose her breath. She jerked her leg away, sending a spray of popcorn into the air.

  “Careful,” Todd said. “You’re losing the popcorn.”

  “I’m also losing my temper. Go away!”

  A round-faced woman sitting in front of them turned around. “Shhh!” she said.

  Todd leaned over and whispered into Amy’s ear. “Who do you think did it, love?”

  She melted. And that irritated her even more.

  “Did what?” she snapped.

  The woman turned again and glared at them. “Do you mind? I’m hear to watch the movie.”

  “Sorry,” Todd said. He leaned over and put his hand on Amy’s leg again, making no pretense of getting popcorn. “The crime,” he whispered.

  She wanted to bop him with the popcorn box. She wanted to kiss him until his eyes crossed. She didn’t really know what she wanted. Her words were a gentle sigh against his cheek. “What crime?”

  His eyes sparkled in the dim light of the theater. “Haven’t you been watching the movie, love?”

  “How can I? Your head is in the way.”

  He settled back in his seat and swiftly pulled her head onto his shoulder. “There. Is that better?”

  “No!” She quickly pulled away from him, “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

  When he turned toward her, his face was serious. “I have no intention of letting you go. I love you.”

  “And I have no intention of getting involved.” She resolutely turned her face toward the screen. The actor with the blue eyes mocked her.

  “You already are.” With those cryptic words Todd, too, faced the screen.

  The woman in front of them, having followed their conversation from start to finish, decided that the show behind her was more interesting than the one on the screen. She turned to face them. “It seems to me you two need to be working this out in bed instead of at the movies. Why don’t you go home?”

  “A brilliant suggestion,” Todd said. He turned to Amy. “How about it, love? Shall we work this out in bed?”

  “You’re outrageous.”

  “You’re adorable.”

  The woman in front of them smiled. “The Sunday Cove legend does it every time. I love a good romance.”

  “This is not a romance,” Amy told her. “It’s going to be murder.”

  Todd put his arm around her shoulders. “Ignore her. She hates happy ending.”

  The woman smiled. “I love happy endings.”

  Amy delved into the popcorn and turned her undivided attention to the screen. The dialogue made no sense to her and the action was meaningless.

  She sneaked a peek to see what Todd was doing. He caught her glance and winked. Turning away quickly, she feigned an interest in her popcorn. He reached into the box, capturing her hand in a slick, buttery grip. With slow deliberation he lifted her hand and licked her fingertips.

  “Why don’t you watch the movie?” she asked.

  “I’d rather watch you.” He savored a
nother of her buttery fingers. “I’d rather eat you.”

  She tried to shut him out by closing her eyes. It didn’t work. He was inside her head, inside her heart. Letting him go was going to be harder than she had ever imagined. Much harder.

  He leaned over, his hot breath fanning her cheek. “You can’t shut me out that easily, Amy. Every time you open your eyes, I’ll be there.”

  “Like the Force?” They both smiled as they remembered the last time she had used those words.

  “Exactly.” Once more he pulled her head onto his shoulder. “Talk to me, Amy. Let me be your friend as well as your lover.”

  It would be all too easy to dump all her problems on his broad shoulders. But she couldn’t separate friend from lover. They were one and the same. And in order to survive, she had to cut herself off from both.

  She stayed in the curve of his arm a moment longer, absorbing the steady beat of his heart, soaking up his strength. At last, she pulled away.

  “I’m going home,” she said.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Todd ...”

  “I insist.”

  They left the dark theater. Outside, the garish marquee lights bathed them in green and red and purple.

  “I don’t know why you persist in this madness,” Amy said as they walked down the street. “I’m not going to change my mind about you.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Yes. You’ve already told me that you love me.”

  “Not under oath.”

  He grinned. “You said it to a judge. That’s the same thing.”

  She let that remark slide, thinking that silence would deter him. She was wrong.

  “My party is tomorrow night. Be sure to bring Aunt Syl.”

  “I’m not coming.”

  “You must. You wouldn’t want to disappoint my brothers, would you? Two of them are flying in from Baltimore, and they’re expecting to meet this remarkable woman I’ve met.”

  “Then you have approximately twenty-four hours to find another woman.”

  Their apartment building came into view. Amy’s sigh of relief was audible.

  Inside the foyer he pulled her into his arms. “Just so you have something to remember me by ...”

  When he kissed her, she could no more have walked away than she could have sprouted wings and flown. There in the foyer with the scent of orange blossoms so strong she could almost see a young woman in Scarlett O’Hara garb weeping over the scorched earth around her, Amy wondered if she were wearing blinders to her own empty life.

  “I’m sorry about the party, Todd. I’m sorry about ... everything.” She turned from him and ran up the stairs. She didn’t think she could keep her resolve for one more minute.

  The tears didn’t come until she was inside her apartment. “I’m not going to cry,” she said, and then she went into her bathroom and scrubbed her face. “I won’t cry. I will forget him.”

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand and dressed for bed. Just before she turned out the light, she noticed her little robot standing in the corner. “Why can’t real people be restored with new circuits and new batteries, Herman?”

  He stood solidly in the corner, a magical little creation she had to power to keep with her always.

  o0o

  On Tuesday Amy embarked on a massive cleaning spree. Even Aunt Syl was impressed at the amount of dust she sent flying around the apartment.

  “My, my. A body needs a mask and goggles to pass through here.” Aunt Syl was, in fact, dressed in her new silver and pink wig and enormous sunglasses.

  Amy looked up from her cleaning. “Going somewhere. Aunt Syl?”

  “Out,” she said mysteriously.

  Amy laughed. “I see you’re going incognito.”

  “I can’t be bothered with adoring fans today. I have important things to do. Have fun rearranging our dust, dear.”

  Amy watched Aunt Syl leave, then attacked the apartment once more. She hummed as she worked, telling herself that she couldn’t be so cheerful if her heart was broken. What did it matter if she never felt rainbows and magic again? She had Aunt Syl and Herman and Hortense. She didn’t need somebody else to complicate her life.

  She got a mop from the closet and waxed the old wooden floors until they squeaked. Her mind continued to whirl and spin. Suppose she had said yes to Todd? Could she count on his always being there? He loved boating. How did she know he wouldn’t end up at the bottom of the Gulf?

  By late afternoon she was exhausted. She showered and dressed in cool white cotton cropped pants and a sailor top. After tying her hair back with a bright blue ribbon, she went into the kitchen.

  She probably ranked among the world’s ten worst cooks, but that didn’t stop her. The countertops were soon covered with the makings of a Black Forest cake. Halfway through the cake, she decided that cooking was a mistake. Every time she stirred, she thought of Todd—laughing in his pristine kitchen, remarking about her jiggling, squeezing the egg rolls. With her mind more on the judge than on cooking, she created a lopsided confection held together with whipped cream and cherries.

  Aunt Syl came in just as Amy was putting the last cherry on top.

  “Are we having a party?” Aunt Syl asked.

  “No.”

  “Then I think we should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s Tuesday and somebody somewhere is having a birthday. I think we should help them celebrate.”

  Aunt Syl could always make her smile no matter how blue she felt. “We don’t have any horns and bazookas.”

  Aunt Syl patted her cheek. “That’s better. I knew you could smile if you tried. Now”—she adjusted her crooked wig—”I’m taking you to a lovely restaurant I discovered.”

  “I really don’t feel like going out.”

  “I promise that we won’t talk about that remarkable judge and why you’ve sent him away. We won’t discuss a thing except the price of sugar and Santa Claus.”

  “I do have to eat,” Amy conceded.

  “Good. And when we come back, I want you to die on the windowsill.”

  Amy laughed. “Again?”

  “Feet first this time.”

  Aunt Syl was as good as her word. Dinner was a pleasant meal at Clara’s Cafe with no heart-wrenching discussions and no repeat performances about Sunday Cove’s legend from the owner, herself. When they returned to the apartment that evening, they were still laughing over a story Aunt Syl had told about Hortense in New York.

  “And now,” she said to Amy, “are you ready to die?”

  “Tonight?” Amy asked. “You can’t see me in the dark.”

  “I’ll shine a flashlight down. Indulge me, dear. I’ll get the rope.”

  “Rope?”

  “You’re hanging feet first, remember?” At Amy’s look of alarm she added hastily, “I asked Justin how to do this. We’ll tie the rope around the sofa leg and I’ll lower you out the window. After I’ve seen one good scream or two, I’ll pull you back up. Don’t worry.”

  “Are you sure you can pull me back up?”

  “Justin rigged a pulley for me. Don’t worry.”

  Amy still had misgivings. “You keep saying that, but somehow it doesn’t reassure me. I may be getting too old for these schemes of yours, Aunt Syl. I don’t like this one.”

  “Trust me, dear. You’ll like it.” Aunt Syl smiled mysteriously, and the two of them set about rigging Amy for dying.

  With one end of the rope securely around the sofa leg and the other end around her waist. Amy was lowered out the window. She held the window ledge as long as possible, then at Aunt Syl’s coaxing let go. As she swung freely in the summer night, she decided it wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening. It beat mourning over Todd.

  “That’s wonderful, dear,” Aunt Syl called down. “Now I can tell just how the body falls.”

  “Great. Pull me back up.”

  “Not yet. I want to lower you just a fraction more.”r />
  Amy started laughing at the ludicrous situation. “To think I came all the way to Sunday Cove to die like this.” She laughed even harder. “Lower away, Aunt Syl. I had nothing else to do this evening except go to the White House for a presidential reception.”

  “That’s my girl.” Aunt Syl lowered the rope so that Amy’s legs were dangling outside the window of the apartment directly below them. “Telephone, dear. Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where would I go?” Amy asked. She swung in the dark, waiting for Aunt Syl to pull her back up. Music from the first-floor apartment was wafting around her in the night air. She hummed along with the lively jazz tune, then suddenly stiffened. Party music, she thought. She was dangling outside Todd’s apartment.

  “Aunt Syl,” she called. “Pull me up.”

  There was no answer. Amy listened but she couldn’t hear a thing.

  “Aunt Syl,” she called again. Still no answer. She groaned. Aunt Syl had probably forgotten all about her. Most likely she was now at her typewriter, pecking away while her inspiration was fresh.

  Amy caught the rope with her hands and attempted to climb up it. Her effort caused her feet to tap against Todd’s window. Quickly she ceased moving, hoping nobody inside would notice. She held her breath, then expelled it with a whoosh. Apparently the party was in full swing and nobody was paying any attention to the dilemma outside the window.

  So much for Todd’s vows of undying affection, she fumed as she struggled with the rope once more. All it took was one good party to wipe her completely from his mind. Her legs did a small cha-cha as she yanked angrily on the rope.

  She’d show him. Why should she moon around when he seemed to be having so much fun? She’d cut her Black Forest cake and have a party of her own. She’d invite all her neighbors. Why, she’d even call Mrs. Matilda Hildenbrand.

  The more Amy struggled, the madder she got. But she was no match for the rope. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t pull herself up.

  “This is a pretty pickle you’ve gotten yourself into,” she muttered.

  Suddenly the window below her flew open. Todd stuck his head out and grinned up at her.

  “I see you’ve decided to join the party after all,” he said.

  “I’m not joining your party,” she snapped.