As soon as the telephone released its last peal, the doorbell rang.
“Nothing like a little company before I even put down my suitcase,” Eddi grumbled. She plopped her overnight bag on the striped love seat and slung her purse on top of it. Eddi retraced her steps to the front door. Before she turned the knob, she looked out the peephole. Eddi was certain Conner was on her trail at every turn.
The person standing outside was not Conner. She was none other than the illustrious grand dame of the theater, Mrs. Madelynne DeBloom. Eddi swung open the door, wondering what she had done to warrant the condescension of the lady’s visit.
“Mrs. DeBloom!” she exclaimed. “I thought you had the flu!”
“I did, my dear,” the matron admitted, her voice a bit raspy. “But I’ve stayed in bed most of the week, and I’m feeling better.” Before Eddi could invite her in, Mrs. DeBloom brushed past her with a flourish and the smell of roses.
“Well,” Eddi shut the door, “you just caught me. I’ve been away to visit my family this weekend.” She scooped up Roddy and scratched his ears. The pug grunted and closed his eyes.
“Yes, I know.” Mrs. DeBloom claimed a recliner—Eddi’s favorite—and patted the straight-backed chair next to it. “Come sit awhile, dear.”
Eddi, feeling as if she were the visitor, did what everyone did in Mrs. DeBloom’s presence—she obeyed. “How did you know I was out of town?” she asked. If not for her offbeat sense of humor, Eddi would have been vexed by the matron’s high-handed behavior. The ridiculous nature of Mrs. DeBloom’s affectation left Eddi hiding a smile.
“When I was at her dress shop in town, Dina told me you left town.” Mrs. DeBloom looked at Eddi’s turquoise shorts set. “She said you bought that cute number. I was glad it went to someone young like you.”
“Oh,” Eddi answered and wondered if the whole town knew her underwear size by now. She was quickly realizing that Dina’s Place, the combination coffee bar and dress shop, was certainly the store to go to if you wanted the scoop on London’s citizenry.
Mrs. DeBloom tugged on her straight dress’s lace collar and sniffed. “I’ll get right to the point.”
“If you wanted to stay awhile, I would be happy to make a pot of coffee for you,” Eddi offered, fully expecting rejection.
“No, thank you, dear.” Mrs. DeBloom scurried through her leather purse. She retrieved a lacy handkerchief and covered her nose. She eyed the two felines as if they were rattlesnakes. “I have a horrible allergy to cats . . . and—and their odors,” she added.
Roddy licked Eddi’s hand. She stroked his head and wondered when Mrs. DeBloom would start complaining about him.
“The reason I came, dear, is because I wanted to have a heart-to-heart chat with you,” Madelynne said while daintily lowering the handkerchief.
“Okay.” Eddi scruntinized the gray-haired lady, who reminded her of Dave, especially the haughty tilt of her head. Eddi’s fingers tightened around the chair’s arm.
“You seem like a sensible young woman,” she said.
“Well, I try,” Eddi said dryly.
“Then you’ll understand why I am . . . concerned about what I am hearing around town.” Her blue gaze penetrated Eddi’s calm resolve, and she floundered for some significance to Mrs. DeBloom’s hint.
“You are aware of the gossip, aren’t you?” Mrs. DeBloom leaned forward.
“It’s been about a week since I was in Dina’s Place,” Eddi admitted. “So apparently I’m not up on the latest.”
“Well,” Mrs. DeBloom straightened her spine, “the latest is that my nephew is . . . smitten with you.”
Eddi flopped back into her chair and laughed out loud. Every hint of irritation vanished in the face of the preposterous. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh, good!” Madelynne waved her handkerchief. “I am so relieved. I was afraid maybe you had started . . .” She paused. “That maybe you . . .”
“That maybe I’m getting too much into my part?” Eddi asked, growing suspicious of where this was heading.
“Exactly. I’m so glad to see that my assumptions were correct. You undoubtedly understand the difference in your and Dave’s positions in life.”
“Our positions?” Eddi enunciated each syllable. Roddy shifted in her lap.
“Yes, of course. When my nephew marries, it must be to someone who is as . . . who will understand the ins and outs of managing a sizeable estate and—”
“Dave seems to be doing that just fine on his own.” Eddi crossed her arms. “Why would you assume that he would drop the whole of that responsibility into the lap of his wife?”
“Well, a good wife knows to do such things—especially if the wife has watched her mother take care of the same role for years. I speak from experience.” She sniffed. “I was married to a wealthy businessman myself. I understand these things all too well. A woman who marries an important man must fulfill her role. She mustn’t be caught up in her own petty concerns.”
Eddi made herself take three deep breaths before she spoke. When the words came out, she was rewarded by the even tenor of her voice. “For starters,” Eddi stated, “a wife is a woman with value. She is not a role.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. DeBloom patted Eddi’s hand. “Of course,” she added with a patronizing lift of her chin that reminded Eddi of Dave all over again. She bit down on the tip of her tongue. Mrs. DeBloom continued, “I didn’t mean to imply . . . It’s just that—I’m sure you understand. We can’t have Dave marrying someone who’s not—”
“As valuable as he is because she’s not as rich as he is?” Eddi finished. Mrs. DeBloom’s face reddened. Eddi recalled all the demeaning things Dave had said on the Huntington House porch. Neither Dave nor his aunt minded throwing around insults when it suited them.
The flush in Mrs. DeBloom’s face diminished. “You don’t have to be so blunt about it,” she finally admonished.
“Why not? That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” She arched her brows and didn’t flinch from the matron’s appaisal.
An obstinate flame flared in Madelynne’s eyes. “I came for an answer to my question. I got what I wanted.” Eddi waited for her to pull a gavel out of her purse and pound the coffee table. “Frankly, my nephew has been acting out of character the last few weeks.”
“Maybe that’s because he’s playing the character of Darcy,” Eddi said with a humorless grin.
Mrs. DeBloom found nothing to smile about. “I came in here, Miss Boswick, worried that maybe you read too much into that dance scene at our last practice. But I am beginning to see that you are not anything like your sister. You are far too brassy to entertain romantic fantasies, even for someone as rich and handsome as my nephew.”
Eddi’s grip tightened on Roddy. He squirmed and whimpered. She relaxed her fingers and gently scratched beneath his chin.
“Don’t bring my sister into this,” she ordered.
“And she’s better off not in the mix, if you ask me. Dave was smart in warning Calvin off her.”
“What did you just say?” Eddi demanded as she scooted to the edge of her chair.
Mrs. DeBloom looked as if she’d swallowed a golf ball and the thing was restricting air flow. “Oh dear,” she whispered and jumped up.
Before Eddi could stand, Madelynne was grasping the doorknob. By the time Eddi deposited Roddy on the floor and scrambled to the door, Mrs. DeBloom slammed it in her face. Eddi snatched open the door. She rushed into the oppressive humidity, down the sidewalk, and around Mrs. DeBloom.
She targeted the sleek blue Cadillac parked near her Mustang and sprawled across the passenger door. The car’s heat burned Eddi’s arms and hands, but she didn’t budge. Eddi glared up at Mrs. DeBloom, who hovered on the curb. Her purse dangling from her arm, she twisted the lace handkerchief as if she were no longer certain of a victorious battle.
“I’m not moving until you tell me every detail!” Eddi snarled.
“Oh no!” Mrs. DeBloom wailed
as if Eddi were threatening to decapitate her. She touched her temple. “I just don’t know if I can handle all this.”
“You started it,” Eddi barked. “Now handle it. I want to know what Dave did to break up my sister and Calvin. You can either tell all, or we’ll stand here all night.”
“But I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you,” Madelynne croaked. She drew herself up to her full height, yet her lips trembled. Usually, the lady’s thin frame lent her a regal appeal. Now she looked like a terrified scarecrow. Under any other circumstances Eddi would have pitied the woman. But she had shown herself too brazen to warrant pity.
“Would you swear to that in court?” Eddi challenged.
“Y-yes.” Madelynne shook her head. “All I know is that he broke them up.” She clasped her hands as if she were praying. “That’s all I know.”
Eddi digested the admission and debated its veracity. After seconds of scrutinizing Mrs. DeBloom’s desperate stance, she decided the woman was not lying.
“Fine then!” Eddi acquiesced and stood straight.
Her palms and arms continued to sting from contact with the sun-baked vehicle. An ice-cream truck’s jingling bell echoed from the street corner. Eddi wished for those carefree childhood days of creamy Fudgsicles and tart Bomb Pops. But childhood was long behind Eddi. Now she faced grown-up conflicts that threatened to rob her peace. You know, Eddi thought, I don’t need the upheaval this play is causing. Why don’t I just bow out?
After a decisive nod, she decided to tell Mrs. DeBloom she could find somebody else to play Elizabeth. With the words poised on her lips, Eddi stopped herself. The production of Pride and Prejudice had turned into a county phenomenon. The London Times had already run a front page ad on the performance. According to Cheri Locaste, Mrs. DeBloom was already receiving ticket orders from people in surrounding towns.
Therefore, Eddi’s role as Elizabeth had transcended a mere hobby. More people were involved besides Mrs. DeBloom and her overbearing nephew. Eddi had committed herself to the play and she would follow through if it killed her—and it just might!
Mrs. DeBloom clutched her purse handle and suspiciously appraised Eddi, her blue eyes as round as a cat’s. Eddi suspected the aging woman had read her expression and fully understood that she had pushed her leading lady to the brink of quitting the play. With a touch of sarcastic mirth, Eddi watched the old woman watch her and enjoyed the moment of triumph.
The smell of hot concrete and pine needles hung in the air. Eddi’s courage kicked in. “The only reason I’m not quitting the play at this point,” Eddi supplied without preamble, “is because the rest of the community is looking forward to the play, and I keep my commitments, Mrs. DeBloom. Otherwise, I would tell you and your nephew that the two of you could find another Elizabeth.”
“Well, dear . . .” While Mrs. DeBloom toyed with her strand of pearls, Eddi caustically wondered if the oyster they came out of was 24-karat gold. “I didn’t mean to offend you so.”
“Oh, really?” Eddi challenged.
“Look, we’re both churchgoing ladies. Let’s don’t say anything we’ll regret later, shall we?”
“You’re just worried that you’ve pushed me too far and that if I do resign you’ll be forced to call off the play. This has nothing to do with going to church. If you and your money-conscious nephew ever got anything out of church, you’d have learned that money doesn’t make a person valuable.” Eddi stood to her full height and clenched her fists. “It never has and it never will.”
Brushing past Mrs. DeBloom, Eddi stalked into her house. She slammed the door, locked it, and grabbed her overnight bag. She ran up the stairs with Roddy on her heels. After dropping her bag on the bathroom counter, she removed her clothes and stepped into a cold shower.
Eddi rested her hands against the tile as if she were trying to push the wall down. She shoved her head under the cold blast. But even the cool water couldn’t extinguish the furious scream that burned her throat.
“Dave Davidson, you are the bane of my existence,” she choked. “No sweeter woman ever lived than my sister. How could you be so ruthless?”
Rick Wallace’s story erupted upon her mind. Eddi marveled at how similar his plight was to Jenny’s. Dave prohibited Rick from pursuing the ministry. He prohibited Jenny from pursuing her heart. One thing proved constant. Dave Davidson enjoyed playing God.
Eddi shoved her hands into her hair, closed her eyes, and plowed her face into the stinging stream. Don’t you ever forget, she thought. You reap what you sow!
Twenty-One
The weeks rocked on. The practices continued and the cast’s performances grew more polished. In order to survive the weekly encounters with Dave, his aunt, and Calvin Barclay, Eddi adopted the same cool front she used when under fire in court. No matter how Mrs. DeBloom’s demeaning assumptions haunted her, she remained calm. No matter how many times Dave tried to bait her, she refused to participate in his verbal battles. No matter how often she was tempted to confront Calvin, she restrained her words. Eddi remained solely focused upon her goal—to play her role, and play it well, because the cast was counting on her.
By the first week of August, Eddi realized she was becoming a local celebrity. During an interview with the London Times general editor, Eddi learned that the editor once longed for a career as an actress and adored the theater. Therefore, the editor repeatedly gave the new dinner theater more than its share of press. At last, Eddi’s face had been featured so many times in the paper that heads were turning no matter where she went. One morning Eddi stepped across the street for coffee at Dina’s Place and a teenager asked for her autograph. As a result of the publicity, her name was gaining credence with the locals. Business at Boswick Law Firm was increasing. And Eddi thanked God she hadn’t given in to the spiteful impulse to resign her part in the play.
Soon, the final touches were being given to Mrs. DeBloom’s home, and the cast was enjoying the last practice at Dave’s house. The next practice would be held at Huntington House. That balmy August evening, Eddi retraced the route to the country estate and thought of the first time she’d driven down the lane, lined in a thatch of woods. Jenny had been with her, and she was about to meet Calvin.
“So much for that,” Eddi mumbled. She eased off the accelerator. The vehicle coasted down the final hill before Eddi caught sight of the sprawling home, replete with her dream porch and wooden swing.
Somehow, she had avoided all conversations with Calvin since he dumped Jenny. Eddi hadn’t trusted herself to even the kindest of inquiries. She feared that if she ever spoke to Calvin she would demand a thorough explanation for his horrid behavior. At that point, Jenny would promptly die. Eddi could almost hear her sister saying, “I am going to die, Eddi!”
She pulled her vehicle into the broad parking area, turned off the air-conditioner, and twisted the key in the ignition switch. “At least Linda seems to have found a good match,” she mumbled as she considered her sister’s reports the last few weeks. Eddi received an email from her two nights ago before she and Rick departed for Hawaii. “I’ve never been happier,” she’d written.
“Who’d have ever thought Linda would be the first one to find a good man?” Eddi glared at the home’s front door, deceptively painted a welcoming shade of cranberry. While Dave might have been able to end all chances of Jenny’s happiness, he hadn’t succeeded with Linda. Eddi had finally come to the conclusion that he emailed that warning about Rick to spoil Linda’s future, as well.
Eddi got out of the vehicle, straightened her denim skirt, and trudged along the winding walkway toward the porch. After hoisting her bag on her shoulder, she darted a glance behind. No Conner, she thought and admonished herself for being so paranoid. He won’t follow you here, she told herself.
But he would not stop calling her—no matter what. Two weeks ago when Eddi turned off her cell phone and left it off, he called information and got her home number. When she started screening her calls at home, Conner retri
eved her business number off the internet. After Eddi pointedly told him to stop calling, he sent her two dozen red roses.
If he didn’t seem like such a babbling nerd, Eddi would have feared he might stalk her. But she didn’t think the man possessed the mental abilities to orchestrate a stalking. “Maybe he could do the Three Stooges . . .” she mumbled. “Larry, Curly, and Moe all at the same time.” A laugh escaped her.
A time or two she debated how Conner ever was able to perform as one of six vice presidents at Boswick Oil. Stranger things have happened, she thought. While Conner might be a social buffoon, he very well could be exceptional at his job.
Shoving Conner out of her mind, Eddi trotted up the porch steps. The smell of hay and geraniums, coupled with the call of a bobwhite, slowed her gait. Before approaching the front door, she gripped the porch post and pivoted while absorbing the ambiance of the breathtaking estate. The verdant yard, stretching an acre to the woods, beckoned Eddi to slip off her sandals and run upon the lush blades.
A movement near a distant oak snared her attention. Eddi leaned forward and scrutinized the area. At last, she discovered a buck grazing upon the tender grass. The proud deer raised its head and looked toward Eddi as if he’d only just seen her. He stomped and watched her; again he stomped and watched.
Eddi didn’t move as her fingers pressed against the post. She held her breath when a doe stepped from the woods, followed by a half-grown fawn. A crow’s raucous call punctured the peace. Twenty feet from the deer, a covey of quail erupted into a flourish of wings and indignant shrieks. The three deer bolted. White tails twitching, they disappeared into the woods.
Relaxing her grip on the post, Eddi was tempted to covet the home. But not if the man comes with it, she thought and dismissed the deer, the lush grass, and the desire to take off her sandals.
She released the post and turned back toward the door, which had a white note taped to it. A balmy breeze whispered along the porch, lifting the corner of the note, and rocking the swing. The chain squeaked as the swing beckoned Eddi to enjoy its comfort.
First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 19