“Phone!” Bobby shouted at the top of his lungs. When nobody made a move to answer it, he picked it up. “Hello,” he said, then, “Hold on.” He held the phone up in the air. “Abby, it’s your sweetie, that Connor guy.”
Bunny saw Carol grin when Abby said, “Tell him I’ll call him back in a few minutes.”
“Do you like it, Abby?” Donovan asked, watching Abby rip away a huge section of wrapping paper to get to the car.
“Are you kidding? I hardly know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem anywhere near adequate,” Abby said, throwing her arms around Donovan, then Carol. “Can I drive it back to school?”
“We’ll talk about that later on,” Donovan said firmly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for bed.”
Carol stood in the doorway, barring the path. “Hold it everybody. We have a huge mess to clean up.”
“Bunny and I will do it, Carol,” Abby volunteered. “But later if you don’t mind. I want to sit in my new Jeep for a little while, then I want to call Connor back.”
“Okay, but if you start the engine, open the garage door,” Donovan said.
“I won’t start it up till tomorrow. I just want to sit in it,” Abby said as she hugged Bobby. “And thanks for wrapping it up, squirt. I thought it was one of your gags. By the way, where is that old refrigerator box?”
“Trash. We wanted you to think that. Will you take me for a ride when we get back from the mountains, Abby?”
“You bet I will.”
“Don’t overdo while we’re gone, Abby. You need lots of rest. We’ll be back in the afternoon on New Year’s Eve. I know we probably won’t see you two in the morning before we leave, so let me say this now. Merry Christmas.”
Bunny rolled over on her side. “Merry Christmas! I know you’re awake, Abby. What are you thinking?”
“I’m just lying here thinking how very lucky I am. Maybe lucky isn’t the right word. Maybe the word I’m looking for is blessed. I’m going to be able to return to school in a month. Scarring, according to the doctors, is going to be minimal. I have a boyfriend who really cares about me. My family loves me. And I have a brand-new Jeep!” Abby swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“That must have been some conversation you and Connor had last night. How long did you talk, anyway? It was midnight when I gave up and went to bed.”
Abby hugged herself. “The last time I looked at the clock it was two o’clock. Let’s get up and take a drive. We can shower and have breakfast when we get back. I want to give my new Jeep a road test if that’s okay with you.”
Bunny was already slipping into her sweats.
Abby wanted to get a feel for the Jeep before venturing out onto the main streets, so she drove through the neighborhood, going up and down the residential streets until she knew where everything was and felt confident. Ninety minutes later, she maneuvered the cherry red Jeep Wagoneer back into the driveway. “I love it. Love it,” she shouted, her hands clenching the steering wheel. “It handles like a—” She stopped suddenly, seeing something out of the corner of her eye. “What’s that on the front steps?”
Bunny looked out her window. “It looks like … like presents. Christmas presents. Who do you suppose—” her voice trailed off as she turned back to Abby.
“I think I might know,” Abby said, pushing the remote for the garage door.
Bunny stared at her friend, her eyes wide. Something told her not to ask any questions. She waited expectantly.
Abby’s mouth was set in a grim line as she made her way through the house to the front door. Bunny stood behind her as she bent down to read the name tag. “They’re from Mallory,” she said, staring at the boxes. There were eight of them, each one more beautifully wrapped than the last. “Oh, Bunny. I feel terrible that we missed her.” Abby stood up. “I would have loved to have seen her.”
Bunny’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “I thought everybody, including you, hated her.”
“No. Carol is the only one who hates her, and when Carol hates, she really hates. But that’s Carol. She’s all or nothing. Now Donovan—I think he feels guilty about Mallory. I think he’d like to let her back in the family but knows that as long as Carol feels the way she does, it’s a lost cause.”
“And you?”
“Mallory did some pretty awful things to me, but she’s still my sister, my only living blood relative. I bought her a present thinking I might see her now that she’s legally on her own. Actually, I’ve bought one for her every year. I’ve got them all safely stored away.”
“Maybe she’s in town. We could call around.” Bunny clenched her hands into fists. “What’s your big hotel here?”
“The Omni.”
“Let’s try it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Okay, but first let’s bring the presents inside. We don’t want them getting wet.”
“Are you going to open yours?” Bunny asked.
“Not unless she can open hers at the same time. You’re supposed to open gifts in front of the giver, especially at Christmas. It’s part of the joy.”
“Who said that?” Bunny wanted to know.
“I did,” Abby replied, laughing. “Come on, help me carry them in. Do you think she wrapped these herself? They’re so gorgeous. Bobby is certainly going to be happy. He loves belated presents.”
“How about Carol and Donovan?”
“I don’t know, Bunny. Carol won’t, I know that. And Donovan—It’s a mess. Let’s not talk about it, okay?”
“Okay, we won’t talk about it. Where’s your phone book?”
“In the drawer under the phone.”
Bunny yanked at the thick telephone directory and flipped to the Yellow Pages. “I’ll read off the number and you dial it.”
“Mallory Evans, please,” Abby said, remembering that Mallory had gone back to using their real parents’ name. She listened a moment, then said, “Thank you and Merry Christmas to you, too.” She put the hand set back on the base unit.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mallory checked out an hour ago. She must have come by here right afterward, while we were out driving around. Oh, Bunny, I want to cry.”
“Then cry, Abby. Where is it written that you can’t cry?”
“Poor Mallory. It’s not right that she’s all alone, and this is Christmas.”
“Maybe your sister is one of those people who doesn’t mind being alone on holidays,” Bunny said, shoving the telephone book back into the drawer.
“If you truly believe that, then I know a bridge I’d like to sell you.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Abby. Maybe she’ll call.”
Abby stood staring at the Christmas tree. A few months back there had been Mallory’s letter, and now she was sending presents. These were the first presents that Mallory had ever given her. It seemed to Abby she was trying to make a genuine effort to—To what? she wondered. To make amends for all the trouble she’d caused? “I’ll clean up the living room, and you make breakfast,” she said, leaving her thoughts behind. “Then, we’re going to sit and do nothing. By the way, how’s my face looking today? The truth now.”
“Very red and scaly. It looks like it itches. There’s a kind of white ring outlining the whole mark. Didn’t you look at it, Abby?”
“No. I was afraid to. Will my makeup cover it?” “Not the way it is now,” Bunny said bluntly. She looked over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. She doubted if Abby even heard what she said. She was staring intently at the pile of presents in front of her, oblivious to Bunny and anything else around her.
“It’s time to say good-bye. I’m going to miss you, Abby.” “No you won’t. You’ll be too busy studying and having a good time. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Have a safe flight, Bunny,” Carol said, hugging Abby’s friend.
“Thank you so much for having me. I hope I get to see you again soon. Tell Bobby good-bye for me. I’ll call you, Abby.”
“D
on’t call, write. Long, newsy letters full of stuff.”
“Okay. Bye, everyone.”
“I wish I was going with her,” Abby said, waving until her friend was out of sight.
“It’s just a few weeks, Abby. It’s important for you to do the follow-up on the surgery. You don’t want all that suffering to have been for nothing. You went through hell. We all went through hell,” Carol amended.
“No more surgery, Carol. I mean it. I don’t care what Donovan wants. I will not put myself through that excruciating agony ever again. My God, I’m still not healed. The truth is, I think my face looks worse than it did before. Six months is a very long time to go around looking like this. It’s awful, and we both know it. I wish I’d never done it. You don’t know how bad I wish that.”
“Oh, baby, I do know. I wish you hadn’t done it either. The makeup was working fine. I also understand you wanting … Donovan wanting the best for you.”
“It wasn’t the best for me. They told me it was too deep, too large. Why didn’t I listen, Carol? Why?”
Carol felt her throat start to close. “Because you believe in miracles, honey. We all do.”
PART THREE
CHAPTER EIGHT
1997
The last four years had been the best years of Abby’s life. She’d excelled academically, made lifelong friends, honed her writing skills, matured physically and mentally, and fallen deeply in love. Her world right side up, Abby sighed happily.
The rustle of the silky comforter was the only sound in the quiet room. Abby rolled over and propped her face in the palm of her hand. “I’m so happy that you could get the time off to come to my graduation. I’ve missed you, Connor. Getting together holidays and breaks—it’s wonderful, but it just isn’t enough. At least, not for me.”
The lovers stared at one another. “I missed you, too. More than you know, but our time will come.” He tweaked her nose. “You could move to New York, you know.”
Abby sighed. They’d had this conversation before. “What would we live on? Your good looks?” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “It’s too expensive to live in New York unless both of us are working full-time, and I don’t want to work fulltime unless … unless I have to. I’m looking forward to my part-time job at the library and to writing on a regular schedule. I have to get together a new book proposal to give my publisher by the—”
“What did you say?” Connor interrupted, putting a hand on her bare leg.
Abby bit down on her lip to keep herself from smiling. She’d been waiting for the perfect moment to tell him her news, and this was the perfect moment. But rather than just come out with it, she wanted to tease him a little first. “I said I’m looking forward—”
“No. No. That’s not the part I’m asking about. You said something about giving a new book proposal to your publisher. What publisher?”
Abby opened her mouth in feigned surprise. “Oh, that part,” she teased. “I guess I forgot to tell you. Bryson Publishing made me an offer on my book, and I accepted it!”
“No kidding! That’s great!” Connor grabbed her and kissed her.
Abby had dreamed of this moment for as long as she could remember. “It’s going to come out in hardcover first, then in paperback,” she explained. “They liked it so well that they want a second book. So I have to come up with an idea as soon as possible. If things go well, our finances may improve sooner than we expected.”
Connor lovingly brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “One of these days you’re going to be a rich and famous writer. I’m sure of it.”
Abby laughed. It was Connor’s encouragement over the last four years that had kept her writing in spite of the rejection letters. He respected her special needs. “I wish I was so sure. All I know is that between school and writing, I’ve worked my butt off these last four years.”
“And now all the work is going to pay off.” Connor grinned.
“I hope so. I’d sure like to show Carol a nice big advance check. She used to encourage me to write, but these last few years she’s done everything she could to discourage me. I’m glad I didn’t listen to her. I suspect she thinks that my education will have been for nothing unless I go out and get a highpaying job.” She rolled over onto her back and gazed up at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you what. If I ever do become a famous writer, I want to have a big party—a blowout party with a guest list that will make People magazine sit up and take notice. All the important people who have helped me along the way and …” she flipped back over and took his hand, “all the people I love. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“Depends,” Connor said with feigned indifference.
Abby sat up and did her best to look affronted even though she knew he was teasing her. “Depends on what?”
“Whether or not you dedicate the book to me.”
“Well,” she said in a huffy voice, “it just so happens that it is dedicated to you.”
Connor’s eyes lit up with excitement. He dropped his act. “Yeah? What did you say? Something mushy I bet, like: to Connor, the world’s greatest lover.”
Abby giggled. “I’m not going to tell you what I said, but I will tell you I didn’t say that. I don’t want the world to know what a wonderful lover you are. That’s only for me to know. You’ll just have to wait until the book’s published.” She expected him to try and wrest the information out of her, but instead his expression turned sober.
“Abby, does your family know about our plans for the future?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject. “I mean do they know—”
“That we’re planning on getting married one of these days?” she finished for him. “I think they suspect, but I haven’t come right out and told them.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“Not yet. You have to understand, they are very overprotective. I have to tell them by degrees.” The whole truth was that every time she brought Connor’s name up in front of Donovan and Carol, Carol got preachy and warned her that life with a newspaper journalist would be difficult, that Connor would be gone at all hours, and that he would never be able to provide for her in the manner to which she had become accustomed.
“The other reason is,” Abby added, because Connor didn’t look completely satisfied, “that I don’t want everyone in the world to know about us. And once Carol and Donovan know, then everybody knows. I’ve told Bunny, but she’s different. She’s like a sister, and we tell each other everything. She promised to keep an eye on you since she’s going to be working in the city. I can’t believe she landed a job at Cosmo.”
“A plum job, that’s for sure,” Connor said, following Abby from one topic to the next without a hitch.
“She’s worked hard. She deserves it. If you save your vacation days for the winter months the way Bunny is planning on doing, the two of you can visit me at the same time.”
Connor made a rude noise with his mouth. “Yeah, right. Like your aunt and uncle would let me stay at their house knowing we would be sleeping together.”
“That brings up something else I want to tell you. My graduation present from Donovan and Carol … it’s a house. Donovan had it built just for me. It’s fifteen miles from their house. It has a pool, an office, and all kinds of good stuff. It was supposed to be a surprise, but Bobby spilled the beans. The kid is fourteen and starting to feel his oats or hormones or whatever the expression is. He said Carol has been busy decorating it so it would be ready for me to move into right after graduation.”
“Well, shit! That clinches it,” Connor said, jumping to his feet. He stood over her, his arms crossed, looking down at her.
Of all the reactions she’d expected from Connor, this wasn’t one of them. “What does that mean, Connor?” she asked carefully as she sucked in her breath.
“What that means is, you won’t ever want to come to New York to live with me.”
“That’s not true,” Abby argued. “Once we’re both making decent money, I’ll be there in a
heartbeat, house or no house.”
“Yeah, sure. Why would you? Even if you wanted to, your family would never approve of a move like that.”
Abby bristled. “What my family approves of or doesn’t approve of is of no consequence, Connor. In case you’re forgotten, I’m twenty-one years old and past the age of consent. I’ll do whatever I want, and I want to live with you in New York, but when the time is right.”
“All right. I admit the perfect time isn’t right now, but it will be one of these days. And when that day comes, it’s important that your family approves of the man you plan on marrying. As it stands right now, they don’t like me. Even a moron can see through their facade.”
“They barely know you, so how could they not like you?”
“I don’t understand it either. What I do know is they don’t like me. I pick up on their negative vibes. I don’t know why you haven’t seen it.”
“I think you’re reading them wrong. You’re misinterpreting their protectiveness for dislike. All parents have trouble letting go. It’s natural,” Abby argued in Carol and Donovan’s defense.
Connor groaned. “All right. Where Donovan is concerned, you might be right. But Carol—Carol hates my guts. And I don’t like her. There’s something about her …” His voice trailed off, but his eyes were intent on Abby’s face.
Abby sat on the edge of the bed. “Other than being opinionated, controlling, possessive, obsessive, meddling, smothering, and domineering—what?”
Connor shook his head again. “I don’t know,” he said, his tone serious. “I wish I could put my finger on it, but I can’t. It’s just a feeling I have. A gut feeling that something about her isn’t quite right.”
Abby stared at him, wishing he could articulate his feelings. He’d always had the uncanny ability to read things in people that others couldn’t, and she trusted his instincts. It was those same instincts that made him such a good reporter.
“Carol is … Carol,” Abby said. “We haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye these last couple of years. I think she resents my newfound independence, and I know she resents my being in touch with Mallory. If I’d been smart, I wouldn’t have said anything to her. It always riles her.” Abby stood up and put her arms around him.
The Guest List Page 11