She thought about Richard and grew irritated, knowing how he would misinterpret their friendship. He never understood about her inherent love for music. He couldn’t comprehend the intangibles in life; he didn’t know how to just “be.” She decided she needed to drop that line of thinking. Why analyze everything, anyway? She’d leave that to Richard.
She slathered on lotion, and happy thoughts ensued. Billy told her about his Uncle Eustus. Uncle Eustus was a rodeo clown who once foiled a robbery that was happening in a grocery store. Serena giggled, remembering how proudly Billy related the story.
She grabbed her cell phone and climbed into the large canopy bed beneath a heavy cover of golden and red flowers. She settled deep into the goose-down mattress, and pressed the auto-dial for Richard’s condominium in Atlanta.
“Hello?” a sleepy female voice answered.
Serena froze.
“Hello? Is anyone — ” There was a click and the phone hummed.
Chapter 10
Serena’s first befuddled thought was to berate herself for calling so late, and waking people up to answer the phone. She’d forgotten it was after one A.M. and that civilized people were sleeping. A split-second later, she remembered that her fiancé ought to be sleeping alone.
She dropped the phone, her emotions heading for a crash. She felt like a test dummy in a vehicle, rapidly heading for a cement wall, powerless to change what was happening.
Maybe she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. She remembered that Richard has a sister. A sister who lives in South America, and never visits. Maybe she hadn’t dialed correctly? The number has been programmed into my phone for a year.
Impulsively, she called back. The phone rang, the pattern of the tones were familiar and they afforded Serena a little comfort. He would answer, and explain everything.
But no one picked up. Richard’s answering machine switched on, and Serena clapped her phone shut. She was in a mild panic. She imagined Richard arguing with the woman who answered his bedside phone. Was the woman someone Serena knew? Should she have suspected something was going on?
She leapt out of the bed towards her purse. She looked for Billy’s card, his cell phone number was scribbled on the back. She dialed it.
“Yeah … hello?”
“Billy? Oh, I shouldn’t have called you. I am so sorry. I am just … a little upset.” And you seem like my closest friend in the whole world.
“Serena? Serena … . What’s wrong, baby?” The warmth and kindness in his voice was too much. She began sobbing, quietly. “I … I am not sure,” she said, clasping her hand over her mouth.
“I’ll be right over, okay?”
Serena hung up. Numbness set in as she mentally repeated the woman’s voice, over and over. She folded a pillow between her knees and chest, and sat motionless, her thoughts tumbling. Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Billy. Somehow she’d almost forgotten he was coming.
She scrambled off the bed, running through the suite. She caught her reflection in mirror in the sitting room, and didn’t recognize the frenzied woman. She paused before opening the door, wanting to stop, think things through, take stock of the situation; but it was too overwhelming and she couldn’t seem to summon any self-control, she was just confused, raw, and feeling as though she were floating in space. Billy would anchor her. She opened the door, stepping aside to let him in.
“No photographers to make a scandal of you at this hour,” she joked. Her voice was too strained to convey any humor.
“They don’t find me that interesting, unless I win some award, or I am talkin’ to some actress or somethin’,” he said, as though he was in the habit of making social calls in the wee hours. Billy had stepped into a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and hadn’t done a thing with his hair, which stood up in a goofy cowlick at the crown. Serena thought he looked incredibly appealing. A funny observation, considering her life was probably falling apart. It just didn’t seem that serious, as long as he was here. She almost felt guilty for calling him, because his presence had quickly enthused her with courage.
He eased his tall frame onto a low French salon chair in the corner, and smiled at her to give her confidence. He waited for her to begin, but she just sat there, grinning back at him. Billy decided small talk must be in order. But what came out wasn’t as trivial as he was aiming for.
“I had a really great time with you today. Well, yesterday,” he said. “I almost chickened out of meeting you with the guitar, ya know that?”
Thankful for the diversion, she said, “You did? Why?”
“Oh, because I like you so much. Probably too much, seein’ how you are gettin’ married soon. I thought maybe I’d put my brother up to it, tell him to meet you instead. But I was worried about having to admit to him that I hadn’t stopped thinkin’ about you since we met in Atlanta. I am only good at keepin‘ my secrets if I totally keep my mouth shut. Once I start talkin’ I am afraid I tell everything.”
Like now, Serena thought. “Yes. It’s like opening Pandora’s Box sometimes.”
“I am not gonna pretend I know who that is, but I do know the worse news usually comes in the witchin’ hours, and since you were fine when I left you, you must’ve gotten some bad news. Question is, what was it, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”
Serena smiled. The woman’s voice played in her mind again, and her emotions went reeling.
“Hey, it’s okay, honey. Talk to me.” Billy leaned forward on the chair, his elbows dropping onto his knees.
“I don’t know what to say, exactly.”
“Don’t think. Just let it come out. You’ll feel better, because when things are just in your head they grow like weeds. If you say it out loud, it brings everything down to a managable size. My mama tells me that, and she’s pretty smart.”
Serena sucked in a deep breath and sat on a loveseat opposite him. She tucked her feet up beneath her.
“I called Richard. I don’t know what I was thinking, because I never call when I will interrupt his sleep. He’s very strict about that sort of thing. The next thing I knew, a woman answered. I was shocked, and hung up. I called back. No answer at all that time, just his voicemail coming on. I imagined they were both awake and Richard was asking her why she answered the phone, and she probably said that she forgot that she wasn’t supposed to … .”
Hearing herself tell the story ruined her composure. He came over to the loveseat, and held her, rocking her gently back and forth, and stroking her hair. She sobbed for a while, feeling the sharp pain of Richard’s betrayal.
“I know there could be some logical explanation but, I don’t th-think there is one … . I thought he loved me.” Pulling away from him, she rose to go find a tissue and tidy up a bit. His t-shirt was damp from her tears, and she had wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robe.
She blew her nose and splashed some cold water on her face. Her head throbbed. She came back to the sitting room.
“I am sorry,” she sniffed. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into all of this.”
“No, don’t you worry ’bout that.”
“Billy, what do you think?”
“That I want to make love to you and rip his damn head off, but I am not sure in what order.”
She grinned and then sank back down on the loveseat beside him.
“He doesn’t deserve you, Serena. Not that I do, but he really screwed up, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know,” she said, fresh tears falling hot down her aching face.
“What don’t you know?”
“Because I am not sure I loved him like I should. Maybe it’s my fault.”
He got up and started pacing the room. Billy’s agitation was endearing. Serena could see that he was as upset as she, and that he viewed this as his problem, too. Amazing. How long had it been since she’d felt
someone was on her side?
Billy stopped pacing. “No, I am afraid I have to disagree with you, darlin’. He has no excuse to cheat. He broke the trust between you. That’s not your fault. The question you have to ask yourself is if you’re gonna turn your back on this, like it didn’t happen. I’ve seen women do that; they think once they’re married, or have a baby or somethin’ that the guy will act right. But I am hopin’ you know that doesn’t work.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I do, but, I just can’t believe it. I never imagined. He was the ‘safe’ guy, you know? My parents practically hand-picked him for me, and it felt like we were all marrying him. He’s my brother-in-law’s best friend since grade school.” She blew her nose again. “Obviously Richard shouldn’t be too disappointed. He didn’t even wait till we were married to have an affair.” She couldn’t talk anymore, she was exhausted. She could only cry.
• • •
The dawn brought a worse headache. She was on the loveseat, in Billy’s arms. She looked up at him, and he smiled at her.
“Hey, girl. Some night, huh?”
“Oh, I am so sorry. I can’t believe all of this. What time is it?”
“Five thirty-eight.”
She sat up slowly. “Will you get me something for a really awful headache?”
Billy went to the phone and called the front desk. She went to the restroom, and when she came back he had fresh coffee, and two asprin in a paper cup compliments of the concierge.
“Do you want me to go? Maybe you want to be on your own, and call him?”
“No, please don’t. I mean, the thing I keep coming back to is that he hasn’t even called to explain. I can’t marry him now. Especially since everything that hurts is because of pride, instead of hurting because he is the love of my life, or whatever,” she drained the coffee. “I never knew the difference before, not for sure. So, I am glad that I found out, before we were married. I just don’t know what comes next.”
“You’re talkin’ sense at least,” Billy said with a smile. “What do you feel up to? Sleep? Food? Or do you want to go out, and try to forget it all for a few hours?”
“I don’t want to be bad company for you, and I am not sure what I want to do,” Serena said, tucking her tousled hair behind her ears.
“Do you want to fly back early?”
“No, I need time to pull myself together.”
Billy was quiet for a minute. “Tell you what I think. It’s probably going to be worse if you sit in a hotel room by yourself all day. Why don’t you let me take you somewhere, like for a walk someplace nice? And you don’t have ta talk or anything, just some fresh air, and we’ll see what you feel like from then on. I’ll stick around, and remind you to eat and get you to the airport on time. Sound good?”
It sounded very good. Some TLC, without any pressure. She knew Billy would take good care of her, and not complicate her feelings any more than they already were. “Okay.”
“All right, then. Could you eat somethin’?”
“Amazingly enough, yes.”
“Okay. Then you go dress, and I’ll sit here and read the paper they dropped at the door until you’re ready. Then we can go to my place, I’ll grab a shower, then I’ll make you breakfast.”
Serena felt renewed by having a task. She showered quickly, put on the only casual clothes that she’d brought along. She clipped her hair up and went sans makeup. Still in the bathroom, she had an impulse to call Richard and acted on it.
“Hello?”
“Whose your friend?”
“Serena, look. It’s nothing serious. We can talk about this.”
“Talk about what, Richard? What is there to talk about?”
“She doesn’t mean anything to me, okay? I know that sounds trite, but it’s true. I want to marry you,” he pleaded. His voice changed then, to one of authority, as though scolding a child. “Serena, don’t do this to us.”
“I think you’re confused, Richard. You did this to us.”
There was a frustrated pause. Richard sighed, and Serena knew that he felt frustrated by having to deal with this on a Saturday morning. It was important to have his head clear before he got to the club, or his golf game with her father would be screwed.
“Goodbye, Richard.”
“Serena — ”
She hung up on him. The laughter caught her by surprise. It was insane to be giggling, but she couldn’t stop. She laughed some more, and dabbed a few tears. Relief followed, and with it, a sense of excitement came surging up within her. She had all of the energy in the world, and her headache had totally dissipated. The hurtful episode with Richard seemed surreal.
It was going to be a great day.
Chapter 11
“Oh, my dear, you do the loveliest arrangements, I dare say!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. Your custom and your compliments are appreciated,” Jane replied. “I hope you enjoy Portia’s visit, and do tell her I said hello.” She closed the door behind Mrs. Smith and locked it. It had been a tiring day at the flower shop, and Mrs. Smith had waved through the window after Jane closed, begging Jane to reopen the store for her. She didn’t want to make a habit of that, but Mrs. Smith had always been so kind to her, and she was an old friend of Mr. Collins’s in the violin shop next door. For her, Jane would make an exception. She picked up her bank deposit and dashed into the chilly spring air.
The sweet fragrance from the blooming lilacs suddenly stabbed at her heart. Her eyes filled with unexpected tears, and she remembered Lydia as though she’d seen her only yesterday. The idiotic thing was Lydia always seemed to flash by with a contented smile. It would be easier to take if she seemed regretful to leave them all. But, no, Lydia seemed to be content with leaving her loved ones in misery. It was odd to be holding a grudge against the memory of a deceased friend. It put Jane rather out of sorts.
“Jane, are you all right?” Mr. Collins asked. He was locking up the shop next door.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Collins. Just thinking of Lydia. Something about the scent of lilacs can make me melancholoy. That sort of remembering, it comes on one quite suddenly, doesn’t it?”
Mr. Collins didn’t reply. He was a widower, and Jane reckoned he was thinking of his wife.
“Good evening, Mr. Collins.”
His eyes floated back to meet hers, and he touched the brim of his cap.
Jane pulled her cell phone from her bag as she dropped her deposit in the bank slot. She rang Brambleberry Lane.
“Hullo?” sang Clarice.
“Clarice, how are you?”
“Oh, fine, Jane. My legs are good today, and we’ve been putting everything to rights here. Do come for dinner, I’ve got a pork pie coming out as soon as you come through the door.”
“You’re a mind-reader, Clare,” Jane said. “I was so glum. Listen, is it all right if I bring a friend? You’re sure? Brilliant. And I hope Jackson will be home?”
“Oh yes, he’s just come in from the stables. He went riding with the Gaffney children, them what live down the road. See you in a tick.”
“Cheers.” Jane turned the opposite direction from Brambleberry Lane, and headed back to the high street. She walked up to the navy-trimmed door marked Collins’s Violin Shoppe, and knocked loudly.
The heavy door yawned and Mr. Collins shuffled into the doorway. “Why, Jane, is something wrong, love?”
“No, no, I am fine. I just wondered if you’d join me at the Membry’s for dinner. Nothing fancy, but our Clarice is a lovely cook.”
“The Membrys’, eh? Goodness, haven’t spoken to Eleanor in some time. Not since, well, you’ve only just remembered a few minutes ago, didn’t you?” His kindly face pulled into a repenting frown.
“Shall we go, then?” Jane said with a smile.
“Yes, dear, let me get my coat. An o
ld man like me takes a chill.”
Mr. Collins returned in a well-worn tweed and pulled the door shut. He ceremoniously offered his arm to Jane, and she cupped her palm in the crook of his warm woolen elbow. The fragrance of the budding trees was delicious now, and no longer attached to memories. The sun was setting, shading the sky in pinky tones, and Mr. Collins looked vibrant. He must have been very handsome in his day, and his quick blue eyes were still enchanting. What a dear old soul.
Jane realized how empty with hunger she was, and anticipated the comforting meal.
“We’ll go round to the back, through the kitchen as old friends do, Mr. Collins,” Jane said as they took the path along the side of the formidable house.
They opened the door and were assuaged with savory smells. “Clarice, I’ve arrived with my mystery friend. I didn’t tell her who I was bringing around, Mr. Collins.”
• • •
Clarice said good-naturedly, “Mr. Collins, we’re delighted to have you, dear. How are things at the shop?”
Jackson came running into the room and straight into Jane’s embrace.
“Oh, Jacks, you’re getting too big for these running leaps. How’s Dudley? He didn’t throw you off, did he?”
Jackson howled with laughter. “Of course not! Dudley’s the best pony in the world. You’d know that if you’d ride with me, Auntie Jane!”
“Darling, you know I am no good at horses. Do you remember Mr. Collins?”
Heart to Heart Page 28