A Change of Heart

by Nancy Frederick

  "Atlanta," he said, then he reached down and once more smacked her backside, causing her to lean limply against the door as he closed it behind him.

  18

  "I have a little errand to do. You girls go on without me for a bit. Okay?" Annabeth, wearing a new outfit acquired that morning, grasped her portfolio in her hand. "Just tell me where to meet you for lunch."

  She had to stay calm. She could do this. If he hated the stuff, hated her, so what. He was just some stranger, and she couldn't let him matter that much. She knew the work was good; that was what mattered most. Annabeth repeated these thoughts over and over to herself as she walked through the streets of New Orleans toward the gallery. Sally and Laurel were shopping together in Saks. Maybe with Laurel's discount they could get by without her spending every cent she'd saved so carefully for months and months. And maybe….

  "Excuse me," said Annabeth to the smiling salesgirl, "I'm looking for Mr. Paris Landry."

  It was but a moment before she was face to face with the man who had so intimidated her over the telephone not so very long ago. "Yes?" he said politely.

  Annabeth handed him her portfolio. "I'd like to show you my work if you have a minute. I'm in town only a few days." She held her gaze steady, meeting the critical look he gave her.

  He was an attractive man, effeminate looking, with chiseled features and thick hair which was elegantly cut. His tailored suit looked as though it had been made to measure, so perfectly did it hang on his frame. He squinted toward her for a moment, but when she didn't back down, Landry reached for Annabeth's portfolio, unzipped it and started turning the pages, at first rather speedily, but as he saw the contents he slowed down until it seemed that he was taking overlong to scrutinize each photograph. "Nice," he murmured now and then, "Charming," with greater enthusiasm, then when he got to the pages in the middle with the magazine spread, he shook his head, "I saw this layout. It's lovely. Wonderful, really." He turned then toward the photos of the table and armoire in Annabeth's attic and stopped for a long while. "These!" he exclaimed, "I have to have these. Are they still available?"

  Annabeth fought the urge to exclaim really, then said calmly, "They're personal pieces. I hadn't really thought of selling them. They're in Gull's Perch."

  Landry's eyes lit up. "I know at least two people who'd be interested in these right away. And other pieces of furniture as well. Like this…." He flipped back to Laurel's apartment and pointed to a table and the window seat. "Talk to me," he said, "Um, I don't even know your name. I'm sorry."

  "Annabeth Welner."

  Landry reached out and shook her hand. "Wonderful to meet you. You will sell the table and armoire, won't you?"

  Annabeth nodded slowly. She could always make more.

  "How much did you think of asking? This is a wonderful gallery. We buy outright, don't take things on consignment. Much better for our artists."

  Annabeth thought for a while. What were they worth? Those things cost probably fifty bucks twenty years ago. She was about to say two hundred each when she thought clearly. Two hundred was nothing. And she didn't even really want to sell them. Taking a deep breath, Annabeth said, "Twenty-five hundred each," and as Landry's eyes lit up, she added, "Plus transportation."

  He nodded at her with respect and offered his hand. "Probably easier if I arrange shipping."

  "Yes, much."

  "You know, I like these too." He pointed to a collection of boxes with sliding lids--cigar boxes she'd reclaimed from the tobacco shop and painted. "I'd take a dozen. Say thirty each?"

  "Okay, sure, but I can't get them to you right away. Probably not until the end of February or the middle of March."

  "No problem. But I can have the two big pieces this week?"

  Annabeth nodded then carefully spoke, "I'd need a deposit, though. I'm seeing people at another gallery this weekend."

  "I'm glad you came to us first." Landry offered his hand one more time. "In a year I could sell probably ten big pieces--tables, armoires, cabinets. When do you think you might have more like that?"

  "I'm not sure. I'd have to find the piece first."

  "Call me anytime. You can always fax in a photo and we can decide on the spot."

  Annabeth smiled. "That's just great. Thanks so much."

  "Let me get you a check and a letter of agreement."

  Annabeth sailed along, a check for over two thousand dollars in her purse. Easy! It had been easy! She bowled him over! Smiling to herself and chuckling from time to time, she walked toward the restaurant, stopping first at a fancy lingerie store. Atlanta. She blushed for a moment, thinking of Doug and their upcoming trip. Selecting a few items that seemed incredibly expensive, Annabeth walked into a luxurious dressing room and stripped. First she tried a long blue nightgown, with the tiniest straps and a flair at the bottom. It was perfect. The matching robe was sheer floral, trimmed in the blue silk. She selected another nightgown, a short poet's shirt type with a billowy lace ruffle along the plunging neckline. In place of the no nonsense spandex bras she'd worn for years, Annabeth chose several lace designer bras with matching panties. So beautiful. So wicked! She paid for her purchases, then swiftly moved toward the restaurant, her parcels in her hand.

  "I sold that old armoire and dining table in the attic for five thousand dollars." she exclaimed to the girls as she took her seat at the table between them.

  "Wow!" they said in unison.

  They ordered simple lunches and sat talking in a relaxed way.

  "I think I found the dress I want. It's," and here Sally lowered her voice to reveal the price the way people do when they mention deadly illnesses.

  "If only we still had gowns and I could get a discount," added Laurel.

  "We'll get it right after we eat." The waitress arrived then and set the food in front of them. Annabeth, who had ordered lobster bisque and a salad, was given something she couldn't recognize. "What's this?" she asked.

  "Back bean soup," answered the server.

  It looked delicious and Annabeth was about to shrug and try it, but she paused for a moment and realized she'd been shrugging off other people's mistakes all her life. "I ordered lobster bisque."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry," said the waitress, who removed the soup and returned immediately with the right order.

  The time passed quickly, and Annabeth enjoyed the shopping spree with her daughters. Each time the thought of money would intrude, Annabeth reminded herself that although she seemed to be spending a lot, she'd really made a profit on the trip because of the sale of the furniture.

  True to his word, Landry's truckers picked up the table and the armoire the day after Annabeth returned home, and they gave her a check for the balance of the sale. She didn't have time to be sad or nostalgic at the loss of her treasures because the following day she and Doug were leaving for Atlanta.

  "I thought you'd probably had enough of day-long car trips for a while, so I got plane tickets, if that's all right with you?" Doug asked. "That way you can visit the gallery today, so you don't have to dread it."

  "You're so thoughtful. But you should let me pay you for the plane ticket. After all, that's expensive. And the trip is for me."

  "Don't even think about it."

  "Atlanta is huge!" she exclaimed as Doug took her on a tour in their rental car. They drove through the inner city first, then headed out toward the fashionable Buckhead section where Doug had booked a suite at a pleasant hotel.

  When they entered the room and looked around, Doug asked quizzically, "Should I have gotten two rooms instead of a suite? That's a sofa bed in there." His voice lowered shyly, causing Annabeth to look at him with affection.

  She walked closer to him, laughed briefly, then slapped his backside, causing him to laugh too.

  "Woman! Control yourself! We have business to do."

  She hugged him then and said, "Oh Doug, thank you for everything."

  He hugged her back tightly, then led her out to the car. He dropped her in front of the galler
y, then motioned toward one of the many outdoor cafes in Buckhead. "I'll be waiting at the bar." Annabeth nodded, then her head high, she walked into the gallery, and received the same positive reception as in New Orleans.

  After leaving the gallery, she resolved to buy some big old bookcases and dressers and paint them. She could have sold those big pieces again if they weren't already sold, and for just as much money. And now she had more orders for some small things. Annabeth couldn't wait to tell Doug. She glanced into the restaurant first, but of course, he'd said he'd be at the bar.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed under her breath, pressing her hand to her throat. Doug sat at the bar, talking animatedly to a woman whose hand lay on his arm. They were leaning in toward each other, smiling and sharing an obviously tender moment. Annabeth's stomach clenched as she stood there watching Doug. A million thoughts of R.J. rose up in her mind and her head began to throb. This was supposed to be different. She wouldn't go through that again, not ever. She turned to walk away, her mind a jumble, tears forming in her eyes.

  Annabeth paced rapidly, covering several blocks as she tried to gather her thoughts. She remembered R.J. and the teddy, R.J. and Linna, R.J. and countless others of whom she'd been blissfully unaware. She thought of George. But wait, this was Doug. He was her best friend. Going to be her lover. Her…. She shook her head, breathing in the cold January air and pulling her too-thin coat tightly around her. It wasn't just sex any more was it? She was in love with him, really in love. Maybe for the first time in her life. He wasn't R.J.. He deserved a chance to explain, so Annabeth walked back to the restaurant and into the bar. Doug still sat with the woman, but when she walked in this time he spotted her, stood up, reached down and kissed his companion, then walked toward Annabeth.

  Once they were seated at a table, Doug squeezed her hand. "That was Sandra. I never told you about her."

  Biting her lip and looking into his eyes, Annabeth shook her head. "No, you didn't."

  He looked her straight in the eyes and said, "I had an affair with her. When I was married to Robin."

  The knots in Annabeth's stomach tightened as she listened to Doug talk.

  "We worked together. I knew her for more than a year before anything happened." Doug saw the concern in Annabeth's eyes, and he continued, as honestly as he could. "Robin never found out."

  Annabeth shook her head. "I don't think…."

  "Not that that makes it all right. I was never anyone special all my life. Nothing with women compared to my dad and brother. A pretty smart guy, nothing special, just ordinary. Had this wife who ignored me most of the time and I figured I deserved it. I was a dull guy. Boring really, not much to look at, nothing special."

  "You're nothing like that at all."

  "That's what Sandra said. We talked for hours. She thought I was interesting. And helpful and sensitive. Considerate."

  "You are all those things."

  "Robin never thought so. Never acted like that. So anyway, one thing led to another. We didn't mean for it to happen." Taking a gulp of air, he continued, "And it was wonderful. I got tenderness and praise. Not just great sex but, um…recognition. In her eyes I was a great guy. So I began to see that I wasn't so bad. Stopped comparing myself to Dad and Grady. Became me."

  Annabeth listened intently as Doug continued. "I didn't want to leave Robin, though, or the kids. They were still in high school. Sandra helped me actually. Said go to Robin, talk to her, try to work it out. So I did. Told her how I felt, what I needed, what I wanted. And we tried. Sandra left the firm, met a guy, married him."

  "And you left Robin later?"

  Doug laughed. "She left me. Met a doctor. I couldn't compete with that. Actually it was kind of a relief. We never did make it work. Then Dad called and I went back home."

  Annabeth took a breath, then reached out her hand to Doug, covering his with her own. "I understand, Doug, I really do. I just think maybe we shouldn't sleep together on this trip. I need some time to think about this. It's not that I'm judging you or thinking badly of you. I'd just like to wait a bit. Is that all right?"

  "I guess you are cured," he said glumly, then "Sure it's all right. I understand. I'm not going anywhere. I have all the time in the world to wait for you. I know you're worth waiting for."

  She sighed then and squeezed his hand, wishing she could relent and go back to that nice hotel room with him, but knowing that she had to be sure of him and herself before beginning anything new.

  In every odd moment after returning from Atlanta, Annabeth thought about Doug, trying to make sense of the infidelity. His wife sounded awful, not loving at all, but maybe R.J. described her that way. What if they were together and something went wrong. Would he do it again? Would she be hurt? Realizing that this was the first time she'd ever stopped to consider the consequences of her actions before doing something, Annabeth was impressed with herself. It was also the first time she'd ever thought about her own needs or safety. It felt right at last.

  Where before she was in the habit of talking to Doug every day, or every other day, nearly a week had passed with no contact. She knew that he was giving her the space she needed and Annabeth was grateful. When she wasn't trying to make sense of her relationship with Doug and the future they might have together, Annabeth worked with Sally on the details of the wedding. One afternoon, Sally appeared at the door with Maggie, who carried a suit bag.

  "I thought we should coordinate our clothes, and since my gown and Laurel's dress and your suit are here, I dragged Maggie over."

  Annabeth looked at her old friend who was the picture of discomfort, and she smiled, trying to set Maggie at ease. "Come on in. Let's go upstairs and look at all the clothes why don't we. Want something hot to drink?"

  Annabeth and Maggie followed Sally who bounded up the stairs to her old room, where the wedding apparel hung, safely stored in garment bags in the now mostly-empty closet.

  "Here it is," enthused Sally, holding up her gown for Maggie to admire.

  "Oh," said Maggie, "Beautiful, just beautiful. Oh try it on."

  Sally slipped out of her jeans and sweater and into the gown, turning to Annabeth to do up the back.

  "Beautiful," enthused Maggie and Annabeth simultaneously.

  "And this is Laurel's dress. She refused to wear a long gown, just this simple cocktail dress. We think it's fine though, don't you?" Laurel had chosen a seafoam blue dress of soft chiffon with a draped neckline and a swirling skirt.

  Maggie nodded. "Mine is blue too." She opened her garment bag and removed a cobalt blue suit with a white lace blouse.

  "Mom's suit is blue too," mentioned Sally. We'll all match. Except me."

  "What?" said Maggie.

  Sally removed the suit which Annabeth had bought. It was a midnight blue velvet double-breasted suit with a slim skirt and satin collar and cuffs. "Elegant, don't you think?"

  Annabeth watched as Maggie's face fell. "It's too much like mine. We'll look like twins. And mine was on sale. I can't take it back."

  Annabeth thought for a moment about her black velvet New Year's dress which would do just as well for the wedding. Then she spoke up, "Mine came from New Orleans and I can't take it back either. We'll just have to make do. They're not the same at all."

  "We shouldn't be in the same color," insisted Maggie.

  Annabeth shrugged.

  "I think it will all be fine," insisted Sally.

  Maggie gathered up her dress, stormed down the stairs and out the door.

  "Um, Mom," said Sally.

  "Yes?"

  "I drove her here. I better go after her. Don't worry. I'll talk to her."

  Annabeth laughed. "Go on then, before she freezes and turns blue." Pleased with herself yet again, she followed Sally down the stairs and walked back into the kitchen. This not taking crap from people was getting to be a habit--a good habit. She was tough! She sat for a while at the table, doing very little, thinking now and then and occasionally laughing about Maggie and the look of outrage on her fac
e when she didn't get her way. Would Maggie have been her friend all these years if she hadn't always given in? Briefly Annabeth hoped Maggie wasn't too mad at her, then, realizing it was a ridiculous thought in light of all that had happened, she dissolved into peals of laughter, alone at her kitchen table.

  When the phone rang, Annabeth half expected it to be Sally begging her to give in and save peace at the wedding, but instead it was Becky.

  "I've found him!" she began with her usual intensity and enthusiasm.

  "Found who?"

  "Your future husband. Well, Shep found him. I told you he'd know someone perfect for you and I was right. Dinner tomorrow night. Actually he thinks it's a business dinner. Shep didn't want to scare him off with talk of a date."

  "Oh, Becky, I don't know. There is someone already, but I'm trying to…"

  Becky interrupted with insistence. "Look you don't have to marry him tomorrow. Just come to dinner. I won't take no."

  "Okay. Just don't expect too much. There's someone already I told you. And Becky?"

  "Yes?"

  "I sent in some sketches to those calendar people."

  "Good for you! Tell me all about it tomorrow."

  At least she wasn't nervous at all about meeting someone new. Annabeth walked to Becky's door the next evening. She'd dressed casually in a shirtwaist dress that was one of her new outfits and was carrying a home made cake.

  "Wow!" said Becky as she opened the door, "You look wonderful. And so does that." Becky reached out and hugged Annabeth, then led her into the living room where Shep sat in his usual chair. He rose and greeted Annabeth warmly, then showed her to a seat on the couch while Becky perched on the arm.

  "Now I want you to have an open mind," insisted Becky. "This is one great guy, right Shep?" Her husband nodded. "We haven't known him all that long, but only because he hasn't been in town that long. He's perfect for you, I'm sure."

  Once again Shep nodded. "Matchmaker, matchmaker," he taunted his wife, who flapped her hand at him in mock exasperation.