Small Town Girl

by Linda Cunningham

  “Very well. Feel better. Goodnight.”

  “Thank you. Goodnight,” said Lauren as Dennis left the room. She set her glass on the bar and glanced at the antique clock on the mantel. It was eight o’clock. She heaved a long, shuddering sigh and wandered down the hall to the bedroom. Functioning almost by rote, she went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and washed her face, undressed, and took a hot shower. After she had let the massaging shower head pummel her tense shoulders for a while, she toweled off and slipped into a long black silk nightgown that hung on the hook on the bathroom door.

  Lauren meandered back into the bedroom and stood for a moment, looking out the huge windows with unseeing eyes. Then she pulled the heavy drapes and got into the big bed. She tried to read, but she couldn’t focus. She couldn’t shake the image of Caleb’s back as he left her office. Even in his distress at her refusal to postpone her wedding, he still walked with the confident grace of a healthy young animal. He had not even so much as glanced over his shoulder. Nor should she have expected him to. Their time had been, and now was over. She would never see him again. Her life was here with Charles.

  It was then that the thought struck her like an epiphany. That was it! Her life was with Charles! She belonged with him! After all, it was loneliness that fueled her confusion that had led to her careless transgression with Caleb. She needed to be with Charles. Wherever he was. If he was in Singapore, she would be in Singapore. If he went to London, she would go to London. Lauren sat up straight in the bed, excited, and reasoned it out logically. She wouldn’t have to trespass on his business life. She could just be there when he finished with the day, no matter how late it was. There was plenty to do in the various cities he frequented, and she had always been good on her own, good company for herself. As long as they were in close proximity. As long as they could spend a bit of each day together.

  Lauren leaped out of bed, hurried into her dressing room, and rooted out her carry-on bag. Almost frantically, she began going through her drawers and the clothes that hung at various heights against one whole wall of the room, picking this item and that item, hurriedly folding things and stuffing them into the tote. She would go to London, surprise Charles, and fly home with him. Her mind raced. He would be thrilled. She couldn’t wait to see him, looking so handsome in his starched shirts and impeccably tailored suits. His coolness would calm her. She missed his sophistication. She loved to watch people’s faces when he entered a room. People fairly danced attendance on him, and he treated them with a detached politeness that maintained his dignity and set him apart.

  Lauren sat on the edge of the chaise in her dressing room and hauled her iPad out of her briefcase. Within minutes, she had booked her first class ticket on American Airlines for the next evening. She would arrive at Heathrow at about six a.m. London time. She could get to the hotel before Charles left his room! Her plan was coming together. She smiled to herself as she picked up her phone to call Kelly. Her friend answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Kelly!”

  “Lauren, are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Listen, I’ve figured it out!”

  “Really? And?”

  “And I have a plan!”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Charles and I need to be together on a more consistent basis. You know, like daily, most of the time. For at least part of each day.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that. That’s what most married couples do.”

  “So, when he has to travel, I’m going to start traveling with him! And here’s the clincher! I’m starting tomorrow. I’ve booked a fare on American, and I’ll be there early in the morning to surprise him before he even leaves his hotel room!”

  There was dead silence on the phone.

  “Kelly?” Lauren asked tentatively.

  “I’m here.”

  “Well, isn’t that a good idea?”

  She heard her friend draw a deep breath. “Lauren, I don’t know. Are you going to Charles or away from Caleb?”

  “Damn!” exclaimed Lauren. “Kelly! Of course I’m going to Charles. The Caleb thing is over. Please, let it drop!”

  “I’m sorry,” said Kelly. “I just want you to be sure. Also, Charles doesn’t seem to be the kind who likes to be surprised.”

  Lauren snorted through her nose. “Maybe not in a business situation, but it’s me we’re talking about, the person he’s going to marry.”

  “I’d still tread a little lightly. It seems to me if this is something Charles wanted, he would have suggested it himself.”

  “Kelly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s just that I… Well…” and here, Lauren was surprised to find that her usually garrulous friend seemed to be at a loss for words. She waited. Kelly continued, “It’s just that Charles is a very specific person. Think about it, Lauren. He’s a cool customer. He keeps everything, everyone, in their place. He’s very organized in his business dealings, in his thought patterns, in his day-to-day life with you. All I’m saying is that he may not be into surprises, even from you.”

  Lauren laughed. “That’s all you know! He’ll be delighted. He always likes to see me. And if he isn’t, well, he’ll just have to get used to it!”

  Kelly let it drop and reverted to more practical matters. “When will you leave?”

  “Tomorrow, late afternoon. I’ll be in London by six the next morning and at the hotel by seven-thirty. It’ll be fun to see his face!”

  “I only hope so,” said Kelly, giving in at last, having made her point. “Have a good time, Lauren. You deserve it. I’ll hold the fort here. Call me and let me know what’s happening. Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?”

  “Oh, I imagine in a couple of days. This was only going to be a stopover for him, anyway,” explained Lauren. “We’ve still got a lot to do to plan the wedding. You better call the girls and remind them there’s a fitting next week.”

  “I’ll do that,” said Kelly. “Have a safe trip, Lauren. Bye-bye.”

  “Bye, Kelly. And thanks for being there for me.”

  “Any time, honey.”

  Lauren smiled fondly at the phone as she ended the call. She surveyed the start she had made at the packing. “I’ll finish up in the morning, and get to airport by two,” she said to herself, and she went off to bed.

  Lauren lay there in the big bed, pleased with herself at finding such a practical solution to her problem. She was glad that her self-analysis had opened that particular door and she was able to identify what had made her act in such an unorthodox way when she had been in Vermont. The fact that it had been pure loneliness was so simple. Charles had not been around much since he had proposed and she had accepted. After that, his business responsibilities had ramped up considerably and he was away most of the time. In fact, Lauren thought as she lay there, staring at the dark wooden beams that crisscrossed the ceiling, he had been gone almost four of the last six months, mostly to Singapore and London. Of course, she’d had a job, too, which precluded her accompanying him. However, now she was free. She could be there with him, for him, and wasn’t that what a wife was supposed to do? She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  Lauren looked around her. She was standing in a meadow. The grass was up to her knees. Buttercups and daisies surrounded her. The sun shone brilliantly. Suddenly she saw a figure standing on the edge of the meadow. It approached her. As the figure grew nearer, she could see that it was a man. Nearer still and she could see that it was Caleb, dressed in his customary black T-shirt and jeans. She saw his biceps flex as he raised his arms up and out, reaching.

  “Caleb!” she called and tried to run toward him. The buttercups and the daisies seemed to wind themselves around her legs. Instead of parting as she ran through them, they seemed to weave themselves together to make an impenetrable wall. She felt as if she were running through waist-deep water. “Caleb!” she called to him again.

  She saw him smile. He was
walking faster now, coming closer and closer. She reached out to him, and he was looking beyond her. She could not catch his eye. He didn’t acknowledge her, but walked determinedly right past her.

  Indignant, Lauren turned to follow him. He was walking into the arms of a girl. A beautiful girl in a white dress, her long thick dark hair shining in the sunlight as she raised her lips to be kissed and wrapped her arms around him.

  Lauren tried to run faster, harder, but she was held fast by the plants. “No!” she cried. “No! No! Here I am! Kiss me! Kiss me!”

  Finally, they turned to face her. They stood holding hands, smiling at her. She could not move for the grass and plants around her feet.

  The girl approached her then. She came very close, a wide, bright smile on her face. Her eyes were large and dark. They sparkled as she spoke to Lauren. “I will give you my wedding veil,” said the girl happily. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. You need it. I will give you my wedding veil.” She lifted her arms, and in her hands were what seemed to be yards and yards of gauzy white, cloud-like material. She fluffed it out and it settled heavily over Lauren’s head, then over her face.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t see. She gasped. It was hard to breathe. She tried to scream, but couldn’t. She tried to tear the veil from her face, but it clung even harder, resisting her efforts. The girl was laughing happily. Lauren couldn’t breathe. She was having trouble seeing.

  Lauren woke with a start. The sheet was over her face. Her heart was beating as though it would come right out of her chest. She could feel her temples, the back of her neck, and down her cleavage soaked with salty sweat. In a frenzy, she tore at the sheet, ripping it away from her face. Tears streamed out of the corners of her eyes, although she wasn’t crying. Her mouth was dry. Shakily, she climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. She leaned on the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale. At last she could feel her heartbeat slow, her body cool a little.

  Lauren knew what that dream was. She had dreamed that Caleb’s dead wife was not dead. She had dreamed that Caleb had not even seen her, even as she called out to him in her dream. And the action of the dead wife, giving her the wedding veil. So frightening. Lauren could still feel the gauzy film as it settled over her like a shroud.

  Still shivering, Lauren wandered back to bed, slipped under the covers, and straightened out the sheet. As a little girl in her grandmother’s house, Lauren would sometimes have nightmares. She could remember her grandmother coming in when she cried out, sitting on the edge of the bed, comforting her. Her grandmother had always told Lauren that dreams were the true expressions of feelings you kept repressed in your conscious mind. Dreaming, Gramma had said, was your mind working things out. They were representative of things you either hoped would not happen or things you wished would happen. Which was this, she wondered.

  Lauren did not sleep the rest of the night. She dozed fitfully off and on and finally got up at five o’clock. Oh, well, she thought groggily. All the better. I’ll sleep on the plane, and the flight will go faster.

  Lauren showered, applied her make-up, and dressed in a summer khaki shirt dress. She slipped her feet into little gold flats and finished packing. There was no reason to wake Dennis any earlier than usual. She didn’t have to be at the airport until three, and she would probably go there a little bit earlier. Even though she had booked a first class ticket, which allowed her first-on/first-off privileges, Lauren liked to try to relax before any flight. A cocktail in the VIP lounge would allow her to settle her thoughts. She had taken the American Airlines Flight 100 aboard the Boeing 777 to London before. Being a morning person anyway, it agreed with her, arriving usually on time at six-thirty the next morning.

  It would be Sunday morning when she landed in the U.K.Charles would not be hurrying to any breakfast meetings. She smiled to herself as she opened the door to the bedroom. In the nether regions of the penthouse, she could hear someone was awake. It was either Dennis or Tina. Lauren wandered back through the living and dining rooms to the airy kitchen. After the small study, the kitchen was Lauren’s favorite room in the penthouse, although she didn’t spend much time there. It was a bright, sunny room, sleeker and brighter than the rest of the home. The floor was tiled in paving stones. The cabinetry was white, and the counter tops, except for the chopping block in the island, were black marble. The appliances were all state-of-the-art stainless steel. China and glassware sparkled and winked behind glass-doored cabinets in the butler’s pantry. Attached to the kitchen was a small breakfast nook with big windows that looked out over the park. Whenever she woke before Charles, or when she was there alone, Lauren liked to drink her coffee here early in the morning and watch the city ramp up to its daily fervor of activity.

  “Good morning, Tina,” she said as she came through the swinging doors.

  “Oh, good morning, Lauren,” said Tina, reaching for a cup. “Coffee this morning, or latte?”

  “Coffee, please,” she replied, taking her seat at the small table. She watched as Tina, a stout, pleasant-looking woman with short thick salt-and-pepper hair, poured the fragrant liquid into the cup. She set it before Lauren, then put the crystal sugar bowl and creamer in front of her. Lauren stirred her coffee, feeling the heat travel up the silver spoon. She raised the cup to her lips and sipped. The hot liquid felt so good going down. There was nothing like the taste of the first sip of coffee in the morning. Without warning, her mind wandered back to that magical morning in New England when she and Caleb had drunk their coffee together after that first amazing night in each other’s arms.

  Quickly, Lauren put her cup down. Her hands had started to shake. She fought to crush the thought, the image of him that had suddenly come, uninvited, into her brain to taunt her.

  “Would you like something to eat this morning?” Tina asked.

  “Yes, yes, I would, Tina. Thank you,” said Lauren quickly. She had better put something in her stomach. Airplane food, even in first class, was not the best.

  Within ten minutes, by the time Lauren needed a refill of her coffee, Tina had set fluffy French toast, bacon, and sliced cantaloupe in front of her. Lauren poured the maple syrup over the sugar-dusted toast and ate it with relish. It did make her feel better. She took a final sip of coffee and stood up. “Thank you for breakfast, Tina,” she said. “It was delicious. I’m going…I’m going to visit friends tonight, so I won’t be home until Monday.”

  “Where are you going?” It was Dennis. He had just come into the kitchen. Something happened in that moment. For the first time since she had known him, Lauren felt uneasy. Almost as if she didn’t quite trust him. She decided not to tell either of them her plans. Dennis might have an attack of loyalty or brotherhood, call Charles, and ruin her surprise. There was nothing to confirm this suspicion; it was just a feeling she had.

  “Oh,” she lied, “I’m going to visit Kelly’s family in Connecticut. We’ll be back on Monday morning. I’m going to finish packing.” She left the room quickly.

  As Lauren tended to the last details of her packing, she wondered why she couldn’t shake this slightly queasy feeling of nervousness. And why her sudden distrust of Dennis? Lauren shook her head as if to physically expel the feeling. She zipped her tote and went through her checklist one last time. It was such a bother now to travel, especially overseas. Everything had to be in little plastic bags. Everything, including the passenger, was scrutinized intensely and subject to so many rules and regulations, Lauren could not keep track. Oh well, she was traveling light, just bringing a couple of changes of clothes, an extra pair of shoes, and her make-up. She would buy personal toiletries when she got there. It was such a pain to pack them.

  She brought out her large Tory Burch bag and stuffed it with her passport, credit cards, cash, a couple of pieces of costume jewelry, hairbrush, lipstick, phone charger, iPad, and a paperback mystery. She sighed. “Ready,” she said aloud, looking at her watch. It was ten-thirty in the morning. The hours crawled by. She skipped out once
to buy a few magazines to read at the airport and on the plane. She tried to watch television. She Facebooked all her friends. Just as she thought she might go crazy, Dennis stuck his head in the study door.

  “It’s two o’clock, Lauren. Would you like me to call a cab now to take you to Tribeca?”

  “Oh, yes, Dennis, please,” she said eagerly. Her plan had kicked into action. She was feeling much better. Tribeca was where Kelly lived with her boyfriend, Brian, in their loft.

  Albert called up from the lobby. The car was there. Lauren grabbed up her purse and went through the foyer to the elevator door. Dennis followed, carrying the tote. She found that she had to subdue her enthusiasm. Dennis might grow suspicious to think that she was this excited to be going to Connecticut with Kelly, where she had been so often before. Lauren couldn’t lose the feeling that Dennis would call Charles if he suspected anything. Kelly’s words echoed in her mind. “Charles doesn’t strike me as the type who likes to be surprised.” Be that as it may, thought Lauren determinedly, I will surprise him, and Kelly will just have to eat her words!

  Dennis walked her out of the building. The driver opened the back door, and Lauren scooted in. Dennis smiled and waved to her. “Safe travels,” he called as the car pulled away from the curb.

  Once in the car, Lauren said to the driver, “American Airlines terminal, JFK, please.”

  “I thought the dude said Tribeca,” grunted the driver.

  “He got it wrong,” said Lauren.

  It was Saturday afternoon, and the airport was a crowded mess. “Good thing we left a little early,” the driver said.

  “Yes, it is,” replied Lauren. “Look at this traffic!”

  “Not to worry, miss,” the driver replied. “We’ll get through to the American Airlines terminal in plenty of time. Your flight’s at six, right?”

  “That’s correct,” said Lauren. She was grateful for the experienced driver who slipped expertly in and out of the confusion of cars, buses, and cabs to get to her terminal. He pulled up to the door and helped her out, then retrieved her travel tote from the trunk.