Cal nodded.
“Thank you for coming.” She smiled.
He made a note to go again on his own time.
Wanda Prelane’s Bel Air mansion had scarcely looked so festive before. She had outdone herself for this night’s event. Laurie took it in with a sense of awe. Even after all the years with Brian she could never quite be sure the Prelane mansion wouldn’t vanish in the mist.
“Come in, come in.” Stuart’s mother waved them brusquely through the massive marble entry. “Honey, don’t touch that.”
Luke removed his fingers from the gilded florals in a Chinese vase, which was shaped something like a dog with dragon’s feet that stood beside the door.
“Darren, take their coats. Laurie, I can’t decide whether to have the orchestra in the garden as usual or in the hall. They’re calling for rain, and it looks dreadful.” She sighed. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your engagement party.”
She must have forgotten to notify God. Laurie was surprised by the cynical thought, but then, her view of many things had grown increasingly darker these last weeks. She waved her recently manicured hand, which now displayed the two-carat diamond with baguette accents Stuart had presented her. “The hall would be better. There was a light drizzle as we drove up.”
Laurie looked across the great room, through the twelve-foot floor-to-ceiling windows to the panoramic view from the house perched above the domains of mere humanity. A storm was coming, but to her it was the perfect ambiance.
Maddie tugged her hand. “Look at the pretty egg tree.”
“Don’t touch it, honey. Those ornaments are Tiffany glass.” Wanda made a motion to stroke Maddie’s head, but Maddie ducked it. “Now, what do you think of the meat trays, Laurie? The roast beef is positively stringy, but it’s too late to change that now. I’ve put it to the back of the buffet behind the prosciutto and smoked salmon.”
Laurie followed her to the long tables arranged with plasticwrapped trays of food from fresh sushi California rolls to melba rounds with caviar. “I think the trays are fine.”
“Well, they’ll certainly hear about it before they get final payment.”
Laurie looked up as Stuart entered from the mezzanine off the great room. “Ah.” He met her with a kiss, then looked her over appreciatively. “I’ll be the envy of every man.”
“You’re that with or without me.”
“I’ll choose with.” He kissed her again, then turned. “Mother have you seen my onyx tie tack? It must have fallen off somewhere around here.”
“Did you check your overcoat?”
“No. That’s a good thought. Darren …” Laurie watched him go in search of his pin. Exit stage left. She wanted to laugh. Only it wasn’t funny.
“You’ll have to excuse me, dear. I haven’t finished dressing.” Wanda, too, left the spotlight. Dressing. Now that could mean makeup, perfume, jewelry, or simply that she needed the ladies’ room. She’d never be so gauche as to admit to normal human functions.
Luke and Maddie took off for the porch. Laurie let them go in spite of the light drizzle. Once the rain started they’d have to stay in with the untouchables. She wandered the house, waiting for the guests who would offer such plentiful congratulations and good wishes and even solicitudes over her recent loss and how precious it was that Brian’s own brother …
But that was biblical, wasn’t it? That the brother should marry the widow? It kept it all in the family, Brian’s portion reabsorbed. All according to God and the Prelanes. God. What had Cal said? She needed to know who she was to God.
Why would she think of that now? What could it possibly matter? She had what she wanted. Who she was, who she might have been, who she had intended to be—it was all a farce anyway.
She sighed, fighting the gloom that matched the lowering skies. A door banged, and she heard the trampling of little feet and Maddie’s shrill giggle. Turning, Laurie hurried to catch them before they were scolded. She rushed for the candlelit mezzanine where trays of champagne flutes and iced bottles stood waiting in silver ewers.
Stuart, too, had hurried in, just finishing with his tie tack. Laurie entered from the opposite side and caught sight of Luke chasing his sister with claw hands and growls. She opened her mouth to call out, but Luke leaped and Maddie spun into the table.
“Maddie, watch out!” Stuart jumped back, whisking his coat free of the tumbling candelabra. It was a natural motion, instinctive. But Laurie couldn’t stop staring. He had jumped away from the danger, away from her child, who cringed now against the table as the candles kindled the thick Turkish carpet.
Stuart stomped at the smoldering rug but still made no move for Maddie. Where Cal had lunged for the child, Stuart had protected his suit. Catching sight of her mother, Maddie burst into tears and ran, arms outstretched.
Laurie snatched her up. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right.”
“Hardly.” Stuart picked up the candles and laid them on the table. “Mother will be livid over this rug.”
“Better the rug than Maddie’s hair or dress.”
Stuart looked up from brushing the blackened fibers. “Well, that goes without saying. But if she hadn’t …”
“Maybe there shouldn’t be burning candelabras where a child could get hurt.”
“Maybe there shouldn’t be a child where there are burning candelabras.”
They stared at each other, Stuart too well-mannered to raise his voice; Laurie too shaken to raise hers.
She swallowed. “I should take them home.”
He stood and came to her. “I’ll drive. That way we’ll both be late returning.”
She looked up into his chiseled face, but all she could see was Cal collapsed and shaking, hands pressed to his ears against the screams of a child he couldn’t forget. Her breath came, tight and sharp as she stood. “You don’t need to. I won’t be returning.”
He grasped her arm. “Laurie, for heaven’s sake, don’t overreact. This is nothing. We’ll have the rug replaced.”
“It’s not the rug, Stuart.” She pressed Maddie’s head to her thigh, stroking the curls. “It’s …” She looked around the room, the glittering crystal, the monogrammed silver, Luke’s solemn, large-eyed face, Stuart’s equally solemn and now distressed countenance. “I don’t belong here.”
“Of course you do.”
She shook her head slowly. “I tried to. I thought I needed to.” Luke came to her, and she tucked him to her side.
Stuart smoothed his hair. “You’re upset. I understand that. We’ll take the children home and …”
Laurie smiled grimly. “I know why you’re so effective in the boardroom. But it’s no use, Stuart. I don’t want this.” I don’t want you. And she suddenly realized she wasn’t empty. Something inside was crying out to be recognized.
He turned his face to the side. “Bit of awkward timing, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m sorry.” She really was. But not half so sorry as she’d be if they went through with this fraud. “Luke, Maddie, go get your coats from Darren.” They walked out with dragging feet as she turned back to Stuart.
“Laurie, can’t we work this out? My parents will be so … disappointed.”
She took the ring from her finger and held it out. “Good-bye, Stuart.”
He took the ring, his face showing distress for the first time. Was it for his image he grieved, or his failure? Either way he’d put a spin on it to save both his ego and the Prelane reputation.
Laurie fought the tears as she drove the children home, though she was certain they weren’t tears of loss. It was ugly what she’d done. The Prelanes would never forgive her. The door to their world would be irrevocably closed. No more Malibu Colony parties, no women’s functions with Wanda, no society pages with her name beside Stuart’s.
Luke leaned forward in his seat. “Aren’t you marrying Uncle Stuart, Mommy?”
She looked at him through the rearview mirror. “No, Luke.” She watched for his reaction, but h
e showed so little. He would have done well in that world where nothing real was said, nothing real was shown. He had too much of his father in him. She would do everything she could to change that. “Does that make you sad, honey?”
He shook his head.
“Maddie?”
She shook her head like Luke. “I don’t want him for my daddy.”
Laurie drew a long breath. Well, that made it unanimous.
Three hours later it hit her, as she huddled in the huge teakwood bed she’d shared with Brian in the room overlooking the pool. It hit her that all this was dust. And she cried for what she’d rejected in the lust for it.
22
THEY THAT HOPE IN THE LORD WILL
RENEW THEIR STRENGTH, THEY WILL SOAR
AS WITH EAGLES’ WINGS.
Isaiah 40:31 NAS
Cal watched some two hundred children scour the field, bright plastic baskets swinging from their hands, searching for the multicolored plastic eggs filled with enough sugar and caffeine to guarantee stomachaches all around. The sound of their squeals and laughter rose and fell on the breeze.
He stretched his mouth down to let some air in under the red plastic nose. Spanner was doing Easter magic with live chicks today. At least he hadn’t been asked to be the Easter Rabbit. That job had gone to a most appropriate individual.
He watched Ray lumber from one clump of children to the next, shaking hands with his white fluffy paws and giving hugs. He’d been hired by the city, paid an actual wage.
“Hey, bro.” Reggie’s grip on his shoulder brought Cal around.
“Hey, Reg. Careful with the clown suit. It’s dry-clean only.” Cal primped the collar.
“What’s this I hear? You’re getting a smoke trailer?”
Cal grinned. It always amazed him how news reached Reggie’s ears. “It’s on loan only, from K.C. Kind of a trade out. Our program for theirs.”
“That’s great. You’ve been drooling for that a long time.”
“I haven’t drooled in over a year, Reg.” Cal stooped and readjusted the elastic ankle of the baggy pants, then flopped the bigtoed shoe to ease the itch on the side of his foot.
“Speaking of which, did you hear about Smilin’ Sal?”
Cal straightened. “My grapevine only works your direction.”
Reggie grinned. Cal grinned back. He’d stopped fighting it. If Reggie grinned over his coffin, he’d crack the undertaker’s makeup grinning back.
“Well.” Reggie reached into the cage and brought out a peep with one gargantuan hand, a little like King Kong with Jessica Lange.
“She’s got a job at an insurance office. Doing fine.” Cal released a long sigh. “Good for her.”
“She called about our fellowship last night. Thought she might come tomorrow for Easter Sunday service.”
“That’s great.” Cal watched the peep cuddle down in Reggie’s cupped hands.
“Reggie, what are you doing to that poor chick?” Rita rounded the tent in her cream tapered slacks and mint blouse.
Reggie turned. “It’s happy as punch.”
“Hi … Cal.” She stopped and assessed him with a wry smile.
Cal scooped up Rocky and worked the lever. “That’s right, Dr. James. Spanner’s in rare lady-killer form today.” He spread his arms. “As you see.”
“Quite.” She sauntered past.
Cal reached out and flipped her perfect wedge of hair. “Congratulations on Smilin’ Sal.”
She turned. “I can’t take credit for it, now can I?”
“You can take some.”
She caught his hand in hers. “Come on. Buy me a snow cone.”
Cal sat with her at the picnic table under the elm, licking the sugary dyed ice. The breeze lifted wisps of Rita’s dark hair as she bit into the mounded snow cone and tipped her head back to catch the drips from running down her chin.
She melted the ice in her mouth, swallowed, and turned to him. “I’ve had an offer for a position in a hospital in St. Louis.”
“A good offer?” Cal leaned his elbow on the table.
“Yes. I’ve accepted it.”
Cal digested that. “What about Montrose?”
“They have a replacement in mind. Once I give the final word, they’ll make him an offer. He’s from Independence.”
“I don’t like him.”
She smiled. “You don’t need to.”
Cal looked out across the field, unsure what he felt. “You could really leave all this for some prestigious, high-paying position in a big hospital?”
She laughed. “Well, since you put it that way … yes.”
He tossed his cone into the barrel chained to the tree, then took her hand. “The department will not be happy. You’ve held our hands through too many incidents to let you go easily.”
“I’ll miss you too, Cal.”
The ache began. Rita knew him better than his own family. She’d seen him at his worst and not judged him. She’d made him grow in ways he hadn’t wanted to. And he was better for it. “You’ll do a fine job wherever you go, Rita.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”
He nodded. “I know so.” He slipped the plastic nose down below his chin and kissed her cheek. “Just don’t take life too seriously.”
Her eyes went down his face to the nose strapped beneath his chin. She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed softly.
“What?” He sat back, hands spread.
She pushed his chest playfully. “I’ll call you when I need a laugh.”
“Call me if you need a cry too.”
She nodded, her eyes tearing up on cue. “I’ll miss Friday nights.”
“I’ll be raking it in.”
“You’re all bluff.” She sniffed.
“Not all.” With a squeeze to her hand, he left her in the dappled tree shade and walked back to the fire-safety tent feeling empty.
Reggie still sat on the edge of the table with the chick cradled in his hands. “I guess she told you.”
Cal nodded. “Who’s the imposter taking her place?”
“Robert Beam.”
“As in beam me up, Scotty?”
Reggie grinned. “That’s right. Dr. Beam.”
Cal toyed with the rubbery nose he’d removed. “Why?”
“Just time for her to move on, Cal. Life goes on.”
Life goes on. Cal looked out across the field. One day those kids would be standing on the edges watching kids of their own. Would he still be here wearing the clown suit and pulling chicks from his sleeves?
As weary as the children napping in the backseat, Laurie pulled into Montrose and drove to Mother’s house. It was only two weeks past Easter, but it amazed her how quickly real estate could turn in Orange County, how quickly everything that had been hers and Brian’s could now belong to strangers, except the children’s things and the few items she’d put into storage until she was settled. It was a cash deal, quietly and swiftly completed. She was a wealthy woman, with money enough to … to what?
She car r ied Maddie as Luke stumbled sleepily beside her to Mother’s door, the afternoon light hazy on the walk. She reached up and rang the bell, then smoothed Luke’s hair and gave him an encouraging smile. They’d find another place at the earliest opportunity. A nice place, no junky rental this time. Maybe she wouldn’t stay in Montrose. But she had so many unresolved issues—she had to start somewhere.
Mother opened the door, eyes pained and mouth tight. She had not taken the news of the broken engagement well.
Laurie hadn’t expected her to. She raised her chin. “May we come in?”
“Of course.” Her mother turned aside. “Lay her down in the guest room.”
Guest room. But they were family. Did Mother know it? Did she know there was something missing that they could have had all these years?
The room smelled of lemon oil and rose potpourri. Laurie laid Maddie on the bedspread and pulled the blue crocheted afghan over her. Luke had already wandered to the T
V. Laurie went out and found her mother still in the entry as though she’d forgotten where else to go. She waited for some further explanation, Laurie knew, but she wasn’t ready yet. “May I leave them a little while? I … want to see Grams.”
At Mother’s silent nod, Laurie went out, stifled to the brink of suffocation. Was there any person alive she hadn’t disappointed or infuriated? Laurie fumbled with her keys. She hadn’t actually planned to go to the graveyard. But there, in Mother’s house, she’d felt the full impact of this final failure.
She had to get out, go somewhere. Even dead, Grams was her port, her dock, her guywire. She knelt at the grave, the grass a thick blanket beneath her knees, the dampness seeping through her jeans. There was no mound, of course, only the stone, the new kind that didn’t even stand up but lay flush with the grass. Grace Emaline Welks. Beloved wife and mother. And grandmother. It ought to read grandmother.
“Oh, Grams …” Laurie covered her face. She had loved Grams so much. Just as she loved her children. She wasn’t incapable of love; she was only afraid. Afraid to let anyone hurt her, judge her, reject her. Grams wouldn’t. Her children wouldn’t. But a man could. Would God?
God. Cal’s words, spoken through his tears when they last parted, had been planted deeply in her thoughts. “Grams, what do I do? How do I learn who I am to God?” The question had persisted through all her preparations, the sale of her property, furnishings— nearly everything but their clothing and toys for the children. It had persisted through the long hours on the road. Through the nights in the hotels. Through her dreams, through her musings.
She touched the smooth stone, warm from the hazy sun. “Who am I, Grams? What am I?”
“You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” The memory was vivid. “Say it, Laurie. Fearfully and wonderfully made. Before the dawn of time God knew you. There’s nothing wrong with you. You are just as God made you.”
“Then why is everything I do wrong?”
“It’s not wrong in God’s eyes. He hates sin, yes, but not our mistakes. Does a mother hate her child for stumbling when she takes her first steps?”
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