Pride, Prejudice, and Cheese Grits

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

  “Look at that.” He gently took Nathaniel’s sandaled foot in his hands, gently measuring the few inches between his thumb and forefinger.

  “I was noticing his eyes. See the tiny veins on the lids? And those lashes, at least half an inch. Rebecca would be so jealous.” She knew she was babbling but couldn’t help herself. Their evening had ended with anger and accusations. She cleared her throat and wished she had prepared something to say, just in case she got the chance.

  He spoke first. “I’m glad you’re here. Well, not on this bench, but I’m glad we ran into each other.” He stopped and looked up at the sky for a moment. “I was going to drop by your office.”

  Shelby said nothing. Her heart was beating as if she had run a mile. Help me, she sent up a desperate prayer. Help me see him as you do, not as I want him to be.

  He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry how things ended. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. You have to understand that I would never have set you up. How could I have known...” His voice trailed off.

  “That I would interrupt your aunt’s big speech by implying that she was stealing donations for an historic battlefield?” Shelby said drily, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over her.

  He laughed, a wonderful sound that made a shiver run down the middle of her back, even though the sun beat down. “Yes, exactly.”

  “I know that.” Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry I said what I did.” She didn’t know what else to add. How she wished it had all gone differently. But it was better this way. Without that disaster of an evening, she wouldn’t have faced her own dishonesty, how she had been practically scheming to steal him away.

  He leaned over her and brushed Nat’s hair back. The baby’s breathing was deep and even, his chest rose and fell in a quiet rhythm. The conversations and traffic noises seemed to fade away. She was painfully aware of where his shoulder touched hers, how close he was. She tried to shift, casually giving him more room on the bench.

  The baby raised an arm and dropped it again. Shelby smiled, wondering what babies dreamed of. He raised his arm again and snuggled one hand into the V of her button up blouse. Shelby gasped and gently plucked it out. She heard a snort of quiet laughter.

  Then the hand came back up and Nat murmured something more insistently in his sleep. As his little fist nestled back into the space between her breasts she tried to ignore his deep chuckles.

  “Horribly bad manners. His mother should speak to him about that,” he whispered.

  Shelby’s face was flaming. She carefully tugged on Nat’s hand but his eyes opened half way, made an unhappy sound in his throat and squirmed. Shelby sighed and decided to leave it where it was.

  “She should be back any moment now.” She turned her bright red face away from him, trying to spot Langston’s car.

  “My wife and I lost a baby.” His was voice was calm and even but the words dropped like a bomb into the sunny afternoon.

  “The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness but it did not end so.”

  -Mr. Darcy

  Chapter Thirty Four

  “A baby? You and... your wife?” Shelby was so startled she repeated him.

  “About a year before the accident. She was only a few months along but we’d already made plans and picked names. All gone in a day. Strange, it seemed like we’d lost a whole lifetime with that child.” He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb along Nat’s small sandal.

  “I’m sorry.” Shelby’s voice came out in a whisper. Nat turned his head toward her elbow.

  “I don’t think anything had ever gone really wrong for either of us. We weren’t prepared. When the pregnancy ended, it broke her heart. No, that’s not true.” His tone grew fierce. “She was very, very sad, but her heart wasn’t broken until I disappeared into my work. I didn’t know how to grieve with her. It was overwhelming.”

  She raised her eyes to his, still unable to think clearly. His voice was even but his face was full of raw pain. At least six years later and the wounds still ached.

  “She told me she wanted to separate a few days before the crash.” He stared resolutely at the baby’s little foot, his eyes narrowed with pain. “Every person who offered me sympathy was like an accusation. If I had been there for her maybe she wouldn’t have been so distracted, maybe she wouldn’t have turned in front of that truck.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Shelby said, her voice hardly more than breath. She didn’t want to know him like this, to see the pain he hid from everyone else. It was so much easier to believe he was arrogant and heartless, a faithless man.

  “I don’t really know.” His tone was both surprised and defensive. “You seem like a good listener. I never feel...” His gaze turned to the leaves moving lazily above them. “I feel like I can be honest with you, that I can trust you.”

  Honest. The word pierced her. Shelby looked out at the people passing by on the sidewalk, but saw nothing. She should tell him to go away, to go call Tasha.

  “You think your wife died because you were too self-absorbed to help her grieve?”

  “I’m almost sure of it.” His voice was choked with pain.

  “And you carry that around with you, every day.” Shelby shook her head, and rocked Nat gently.

  “Don’t give me any sympathy. That’s what I’m trying to avoid by being honest,” he said roughly, anger shading every word.

  “Oh, I’m not,” Shelby assured him. “I think it’s a horrible way to live, carrying that guilt around. I’m sorry for the burden.” She glanced at him and saw his eyes widen, then his brows draw together. Even confused and angry, his features were heart-stopping. She dropped her gaze, wishing she hadn’t looked into his face.

  “And how do you suggest that I drop this ‘burden’? Because it’s been six years and it’s only gotten heavier and...” A quick intake of air against his teeth spoke volumes. Shelby resisted the impulse to grasp his hand. His pain was so palpable she could almost feel it pressing against her heart.

  “You don’t believe in asking for forgiveness?” she asked softly.

  There was a long pause. Shelby kept her gaze on the baby. It was so much easier to talk when she wasn’t distracted by his face. She rocked Nat and waited for Ransom to answer.

  “She’s gone. There’s no point.”

  “I guess I don’t believe that,” she said simply.

  “I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times and never felt a bit better, so-“

  “No, I said to ask for forgiveness. That’s a different thing altogether. Of course you’re sorry.”

  A light breeze passed over them and Nat sighed deeply. Shelby watched him, the picture of perfect peace. It was the sleep of the innocent, before we know how to inflict mortal wounds on each other.

  “I don’t know... if it would make any difference.” His voice was hesitant, fearful.

  She looked up into the tree, watched the leaves flutter. “My grandfather had a special painting,” she said slowly. “It was of his uncle’s farm where he spent summers when he was a young. The painting hung over his desk and I loved to look at it when I visited. It wasn’t anything valuable, painted by a neighbor, just cotton fields and red clay earth. ” It had been a long time since she thought about the painting.

  “One day when he was out, I stood on his chair to get a book from the top shelf. It was an old wooden swivel chair and I lost my balance. I put out a hand to keep from falling and knocked the painting off the wall. It crashed into the desk, punched a whole right through the center. It was ruined.”

  She heard him draw a breath to speak but Shelby rushed on. “I know it’s not the same. But I carried that for a long time. I hated it when anyone brought it up. He never spoke of it after that day but it gnawed at me. Even after he died I thought about that painting. A few years ago I sat down and wrote him a letter, asking him to forgive me, and asking God to forgive me.” She paused, struggling to find the words. “It changed things. He had already forgiven me, but I hadn’t been ready to accept it
.”

  “So you want me to write her a letter? And what, send it to the North Pole with my Christmas list?” His words dripped bitterness.

  “She’s already forgiven you. Don’t you think it’s time to accept it?” She had no idea where the conviction came from, but his dismissive words gave her courage. She wouldn’t be cowed by sarcasm.

  “How do you know that? You say that like you’ve got a direct line to...”

  Shelby turned and looked at him fully. She struggled to ignore his bright blue eyes, the striking features. No matter how blessed Ransom Fielding was on the outside, he had been cursed with a tragedy and years of guilt.

  “If you could talk to her right now, what do you think she’d say?”

  He dropped his gaze, stared at Nat’s toes. “She would tell me...” He swallowed visibly and took a shaky breath. “She would tell me it was time to let it go. She wouldn’t want me to think of her the way she was that last year, the way we both were.”

  “You knew her. I’m sure you’re right.”

  He reached out and put his hand on her arm. “Shelby, what do you-“

  A car horn sounded, loud and insistent. She turned and saw Langston at the corner, desperately waving as traffic stalled behind her.

  “Oh, there she is!” She shifted the baby to her shoulder and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked as quickly as she could to the corner. Her cousin reached out for the sleeping toddler, a huge smile on her face.

  “I really can’t thank you enough! You saved me a trip to the chiropractor’s, for sure. Can I take you to coffee later this week sometime?”

  “Anytime. It was my pleasure.” Shelby waved her on into the backseat where she struggled to buckled the sleeping baby into his car seat. Langston dashed back out and gave her a quick hug.

  “Take care,” she called, red hair whipping behind her as she ran to slide into the driver’s seat.

  As the car moved away from the corner, Shelby slowly turned back to the bench, her heart in her throat. It was empty. Ransom was walking away, listening to a tall man in jeans and a red T shirt who waved one hand as he spoke. As she stood watching, Ransom glanced back. His expression was inscrutable, his eyes dark. Shelby raised her hand briefly and he nodded.

  On her way back to Chapman Hall, mocha and herbal tea in hand, she tried to take deep breaths of the fresh air. That conversation wasn’t really the answer she had been looking for. If Tasha had told her a tragic story, it would have been much better, easier. She took a sip of the scalding hot coffee and wished she could burn away the emotions the rioted inside her heart.

  *****

  Ransom locked his office door and threw himself in the nearest chair. Taking a long walk hadn’t helped at all.

  He dropped his head in his hands and groaned. What was he thinking? All the words he planned to say, the apology so carefully created, all gone when he’d seen her cradling that baby. What came out was fumbling, awkward. And then he’d confessed his darkest moment as a man.

  As the scene came rushing back, he raised his head, eyes seeking answers on the ceiling. Why had he said anything? Maybe the way the sun was playing over her hair, the way she rocked the little boy. Or the tender expression on her beautiful face as she looked at him.

  He let out a cry of frustration and jumped up, pacing the office with quick strides.

  There was something in her that he couldn’t name, some attribute that if he could place it, then maybe her hold on him would fade away. Fine, he would go at it logically. What was she not? A flood of words appeared to him- silly, petty, shallow, grasping, thoughtless.

  He sat heavily in his chair, his head resting in his hands once more. There was a way about her, like she came from a time where kindness and loyalty mattered more.

  Loyal... now she sounded like a dog. His forehead thumped the desk, eyes squeezed shut. Impossible. That’s what she was.

  Her words echoed crazily in his ears. Ask forgiveness? It wasn’t that easy. A painting and a life? Not even close. And he hadn’t talked to God in years. Starting now wouldn’t make any difference.

  Still, he raised his head and his hand crept to a stack of paper. And then found a pen. His chest felt like it was wrapped with steel bands. Only a few words made it on the paper before his vision blurred with hot tears.

  Dear Lili,

  Please forgive me...

  *****

  Later, as Sirocco lay next to her in bed, Shelby covered her face with her hands and laid her heart bare. She couldn’t erase his words, his expressions, from her mind. He was with her every second, and she had no right to him.

  She hadn’t gone to that party make connections. Sure, that’s what she had pretended and told Rebecca. But it was all because of him, because of Ransom, that she had dressed up and tried to be someone she wasn’t. The pain she felt at admitting that fact was worse than anything related to that evening’s humiliation.

  Bile rose in her throat as she thought of Tasha, planning her wedding while Shelby secretly wished Ransom would call it off. The wrongness of it, of pretending to be the kind of woman who defends the truth no matter the cost, but deep inside is a traitor, was too awful. She was one of those people that honored with their lips, but had a heart far from God.

  After what felt like buckets of tears, the weight slowly lifted. If only she could go back a month or two, to before they had ever met. She resolved to make it better, somehow.

  “That will be the last we see of each other.” Shelby whispered into the darkness, fingers threading through Sirocco’s soft fur.

  Hours later, staring up at the ceiling, Shelby admitted defeat and rolled out of bed. Wrapping a light blanket around her like a shawl, she quietly unlocked the front door and padded out onto the porch. The breeze carried the scent of rich earth and growing things. The streetlight on the corner shed a little light but most of the neighborhood was left deep in darkness. She moved under the magnolia tree, putting out a hand to feel its trunk, the grass cool and slightly damp under her feet. The air was calm but for a whisper of air every few moments, as if the yard itself was breathing.

  Peace wrapped itself around her as she raised her face to the night sky. Raising one finger, she traced Orion’s belt and smiled. Whatever happens, we are not alone here. God is constant.

  Crawling under her grandmother’s quilt, she reminded herself that something good could come of all of this. She just hoped that her heart didn’t have to be broken to find it. “God is faithful and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability,” she murmured. The fierce attraction she felt was stronger than anything she’d ever know before but now that she’d faced her own dark desires, Shelby knew God would give her the strength to do what was right. Minutes later she sank down into sleep like falling under water, her brow clear and trails of tears almost dry on her cheeks.

  “The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great.”

  -Pride and Prejudice

  Chapter Thirty Five

  “Wow.” Rebecca shook her head and stared into her half full mug of black coffee. “Wow,” she said again.

  “I know.” Shelby grimaced. The kitchen was flooded with early morning light and her head ached from snatching only a few hours of sleep. The whole story had taken a while to tell. But she felt lighter, cleaner.

  “You know, you’re a really good person.”

  “What?” Shelby burst out laughing, incredulous. “I just confessed just about the worst thing one woman can do to another and I’m a good person? What planet are you on?”

  “Listen, you admitted a whole lot of feelings. And deluding yourself about why you went to that party. I didn’t hear you trying to lure him away with your feminine wiles.” She brushed her bangs from her face, eyes thoughtful. “Temptation is not a sin, that’s what the nuns taught us in school.”

  “Well, stupidity should be. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Shelby said, picking at the threads of the place mat. She wrapped her hands around the mug, w
atching the steam curl up in wisps. “The worst part is that you warned me, and I brushed you off.”

  Rebecca reached out and squeezed her hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You developed feelings for him, would love for him to dump the tanorexic gold digger, but in the end, you got your act together. No harm, no foul.”

  “I guess I’m just disappointed. I thought I was a better person than that.”

  It was Rebecca’s turn to chuckle. “I’m glad to see you’re as human as the rest of us shmucks.”

  “Thank you.” Shelby paused, wondering how to thank her for being the kind of friend who listens to a confession and helps build up, rather than tear down. She blinked back tears. “For being here, for not losing faith in me.”

  “Oh, honey.” Her roommate left her seat and came round the tiny kitchen table, grabbing Shelby in an enormous bear hug. “We’re all a work in progress, we all fall short.” She leaned back and looked her full in the face, eyes wide and solemn. “How many times have you kept me from doing something I’d regret? About a million. So lean on me for a bit.”

  Shelby’s throat was choked with tears, but her heart was light. She didn’t have to go through the day afraid she would run into Ransom. Whenever they met, she would treat him like any other friend, she was resolved.

  ********

  The week flew by with not a glimpse of Ransom. And then another. She saw him once, walking down the sidewalk outside Chapman Hall, and she changed direction so they wouldn’t meet. Spending a quiet weekends at Aunt Junetta’s helped calm her nerves even further. Her aunt seemed to guess something was troubling her, but didn’t pry further, and Shelby was thankful.