He looks at me and cocks his head to the side. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I know. How about you take a friend shopping tomorrow or something?”
“That’s a fabulous idea,” I say. Anne would love to be doted upon.
After dinner, Lucy takes me on a tour of the mansion. It’s so much larger than I had thought, with four floors, twenty bedrooms, a ballroom, three kitchens, twenty-two bathrooms, five living rooms, a library and two offices. There are beautiful paintings everywhere. Some I recognize, some I think might be antique European paintings, which probably are even valued at more than this entire mansion. The garage is huge also, and there are sixteen cars parked in there.
“Wow,” I say, too impressed about all the cars to be hiding my excitement.
“My Lady?” Lucy says.
“It’s just—Michael never showed me his garage,” I say.
“Well, Mr. Manning never was one to flout his wealth. I’ve worked for him for five years now, and he’s as humble as they come. You picked a wonderful man to marry, if I may say so.”
“I can see that now,” I say.
Back in the bedroom, I’m alone again. Michael has vanished and this new married life just sucks. I call Anne.
“Hello,” Anne answers.
“Hey, it’s me. We need to talk. Lots of stuff has happened, but I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Oh?” Anne says.
I know Anne is going to drive herself crazy trying to figure out what has happened. “Can you come to the mall tomorrow and hang out for a while?” I’m not going to tell her I’m taking her shopping. It will be an awesome surprise.
“Sure. I don’t have to be at work until 6:00 p.m.,” Anne says.
“Ok, meet me in front of the food court, by Panera, 10:00 a.m.,” I say.
“Alrighty! See you then,” Anne says.
I hang up the phone and Michael walks in. “Good evening.” He’s very stand-offish, and doesn’t even look me directly in the eyes.
“Hi. Lucy took me on a tour of the house. It’s lovely Michael.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“And your car collection is impressive.”
He takes off his shoes. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if we didn’t have to deal with all the niceties. This is a business transaction, need I remind you.”
“Well, don’t you treat your business associates civilly at least?” I ask.
His lips squeeze together.
“Listen, I’m just trying to make this bearable for the both of us. Can we at least agree to be civil?” I say.
He looks at me again, and exhales slowly. “Good point, Scarlett. Civil it is. But don’t expect anything more.”
“Of course not. Why would you think I expect or even want anything more?” I smile to soften the comment.
His eyes go insecure for a moment, but then he’s back to his cold, closed up self again. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed,” he says, grabbing a pillow and cashmere blanket.
I nod. “Perfect.” And I’m off changing into my sleepwear. There are many varieties of sleepwear to choose from. From something I might see my grandmother wearing, to something that would get me a standing ovation at the Black Chapel. Should I go bland, or sexy? If I go too sexy, he’ll figure out what I’m trying to do. But if I go too bland, he won’t notice me at all. I decide on a silver lacy silk nightgown (it looks more like a slip) with spaghetti straps that reaches right below my knees.
When I come out, Michael’s already on the floor. I try not to look at him, but I do feel his eyes on me. I smile on the inside. He’s noticed.
I hop into bed and then look down at him. “If you are very uncomfortable, I wouldn’t mind it if you slept in the bed with me. We are clear about our boundaries, and I don’t think either of us is going to try anything stupid.”
He looks up at me. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I like it down here.”
I hit the lights and soon I’m fast asleep.
32
“Seriously?” Anne says when I tell her I’m treating her to a shopping spree. I have just filled her in on my super sudden marriage ceremony, and have managed not to cry about it. I feel pretty good considering my foreboding circumstances.
“But won’t Michael be upset that you’re spending his money on me?” Anne asks.
“No, he gave me his credit card with a 100,000 dollar limit. He says I can spend it on whatever I want. Makes our simulated marriage look all the more real. And I want to spend it on you.” I feel good, because I know how much Anne needs a new wardrobe.
“Honey.” Anne gets this serious look on her face and takes my hand across the table. “How are you holding up? Really?”
“I’m okay. I just—wish it could be different, you know? We really did have something special. Well, at least I thought we did. Michael has probably been with a gazillion women and does this all the time.” But I know that that isn’t true, I just want it to be so I’ll feel better.
“You really fell for him hard, didn’t you?” Anne says, her eyes caring.
“Yes.” Oh no, I feel the tears pressing. “But it’s best this way. I’m moving ahead and—” I stop.
“Yes?”
“Well, to be honest, I’m kind of trying to seduce him again, hoping he’ll change his mind about us.” I hear how desperate that sounds, and I moan.
“You’ve always been so faithful, Scarlett. Always trying to make things work. When are you going to make yourself happy?”
“I’m happy when everyone else around me is happy,” I say.
“You truly are an angel, Scarlett. Michael doesn’t deserve you.” Anne’s eyes grow annoyed.
“Don’t say that,” I say.
“And why not? Can you tell me one reason why he should deserve someone like you?” Anne’s baby blue eyes are wide, and her hands flail as she speaks.
“I don’t want to make a list,” I say.
Anne sits up straighter. “I do. No, wait, I can’t because there is nothing that goes on that list because he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Come on Anne. He’s a great guy. I mean, he’s a perfect gentlemen…” I say.
“Nope.” Anne shakes her head liberally.
“Well, he’s given me this opportunity where I can save my dad’s life,” I say.
“Yeah, but he only proposed it so he could get his money, his own inheritance. Doesn’t count.” Anne shakes her head again.
“Well, he’s donated a lot to church.”
Anne looks at me like I have lost my mind. “What does that have to do with you?”
“He’s a god in bed?” I say.
Anne laughs. “But can’t you see that he’s no good for you? He didn’t marry you because he loves you unconditionally. He married you so he can get his inheritance money. One doesn’t get more shallow than that.” Anne slams he palm into the table so it makes a loud noise and then sits back in her chair. “Just follow through on the deal, get your money and then get as far away from this guy as you possibly can.”
I think about what Anne just dumped on me. Has Michael not done anything out of love toward me? I can’t think of anything at the moment, and now I’m starting to think Anne might be right. Michael is in it for himself and nothing else. I don’t know why this wasn’t clear to me before this moment. Must be the awesome sex messing with my hormones, telling me I’m in love. But still, there’s just something between us. It’s almost like magic, and if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. And I can’t fault him for wanting to have honesty in our relationship.
My phone rings and I rummage through my purse and see that it’s Michael calling. I turn my phone off. “I want our shopping spree to be uninterrupted. Ready?”
After five hours of shopping, we’ve just about had it.
“I didn’t realize shopping was so much work,” I say, collapsing on a bench in the mall’s hallway.
“Me neither,” Anne says. “Man, it’s
even harder than stripping!”
We both laugh.
“It is. A lot more costume changes, too. Ready to call it a day?” I say.
“Yes. I don’t want to try on another article of clothing for at east a year,” Anne says.
“Well, you had better want to. As long as I’m married to Mr. Manning, you’ll be shopping with me. And besides, we have New Years Eve coming up, and I am inviting you to one gigantic party,” I say.
“Really?” Anne says.
“Of course! I wouldn’t dream of not having my best friend there.”
Anne smiles. “Thank you for today. Remember, if you need anything, day or night, just call me.”
“Okay. And you, too, Sweetie” I say.
We hug and Anne’s off.
Once I reach my car, I unload my 15 bags and turn my phone back on. I have four missed calls from Michael and three text messages. I get a sinking feeling in my gut that something’s wrong. I read the first text message.
Where are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Please call back ASAP, Michael
I read the second one.
You really need to get back to me. My mother is in the hospital. She’s taken a turn for the worse. Call me. Michael.
When I get to the third one, I’m totally stressed out and feeling like such a jerk for being so selfish having turned my phone off.
I’m at the Providence Portland Medical Center with my mother. Please come as soon as you can, Michael.
I try to call Michael back, but he doesn’t pick up. I get in my car and drive as fast as I can to the Medical Center. The Valet takes care of my car and I head to the information desk.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Manning,” I say.
The thin African American lady behind the counter searches her screen. “Fifth floor, room 529. You can catch the elevator over there.” She points.
Once I get to Mrs. Manning’s room, I see Michael right away. There is no one else here, so I’m assuming it’s not that bad. When Michael sees me through the window in the door, he comes out.
“Where the hell have you been, Scarlett?” he says. He is beyond angry.
His rage frightens me. “I, uh—I went shopping with a friend, like you told me to, remember?”
“Yes, but why didn’t you answer your phone?” he says. “I called you like ten times.”
“I turned it off so that I could have some uninterrupted time with my friend,” I say, seeing now, that it was not a good idea. “So is your mom okay?”
“My mother doesn’t know this yet, but the doctor doesn’t think she’ll make it through the night.” Michael gets this look on his face like he’s utterly heartbroken.
“Oh, Michael. I’m so sorry.” I reach for his arm.
“I hadn’t expected it to happen so suddenly,” he says, letting his guard down just long enough that I can see the real Michael again.
“What can I do?” I say.
He looks back at me again, and his eyes grow angry. “Nothing. This is our deal, remember? I don’t want you meddling in my family’s life.”
His words cut like a knife. “I feel really bad.” I can’t be mad at him right now. He needs some kind of support, and I’m the only one he’s got at the moment.
“Well, don’t. Let’s go talk with her. She wanted to see us together before the others come back again,” Michael says.
“Okay,” I say.
He takes me by the hand and leads me in to her room. Diane looks nearly as white as the sheets on her hospital bed. Her lips are pale, her eyes sunken, and I hardly recognize the feisty, determined woman before me.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, walking over to her bedside. “It’s me, Scarlett.” She looks so frail and drugged up, I don’t know if she recognizes me.
“Hi, Dear,” Diane says.
“I hope you’re not in any pain.” I take her hand. It feels so cold.
“No, dear. They’ve got me heavily medicated.” She laughs a little and then a coughing attack hits her.
I look up at Michael and he has tears in his eyes. Oh, how I wish I could comfort him right now. He looks like a lost little boy who doesn’t know what to do. I take his hand, and his eyes, though filled with unspeakable sorrow, are filled with anger.
“I wanted to meet you both before I die,” Diane says.
“Mom, please don’t,” Michael says softly.
“Oh hush, Michael. Let you poor, old, dying mother say what she wants,” Diane says.
I smile. Not many women can be that feisty on their deathbeds.
“There’s something fishy going on with you two. I can smell it, but I don’t know what it is,” Diane says.
Crap, she’s on to us. I hope she isn’t changing her mind about the inheritance. That would be bad, very, very bad.
“What do you mean, Mother?” Michael says.
“I can see that you two love each other very much. That is clear. But there’s something you’re not telling me. Now would be the time to confess it,” Diane says.
I look at Michael for direction. The last thing I want to do is lie to a dying woman.
“It’s true. We love each other very much, but we are dealing with some issues of trust in our relationship,” Michael says.
That’s the understatement of the century, I think. Where is he going with this?
Michael continues. “We are considering separating because of these trust issues.”
Everything he’s said up until this point is true. He’s great at leaving out information.
“I see,” Diane says. “Anything else?”
Should I tell her? I think about my own dad. He, too is suffering from cancer, and if he doesn’t receive his treatment, he’ll die. If I speak up, the deal is off and my dad will surely die. If I don’t speak up, I’m a liar. I don’t want to be a liar. But what is the right thing to do? I close my eyes and follow my gut instinct. The one I haven’t been listening to for years. The one that would probably have saved me all this pain and trouble. The only right think to do is to tell her the whole truth. I open my eyes.
“Mrs. Manning?” I say.
“Yes?” Diane says.
I take a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”
33
Michael looks at me, his eyes pleading for me to remain silent. But I can’t keep silent anymore. I’m done with all the lies. I’m sorry, Dad. Tears fill my eyes.
“I’m sorry Michael. I can’t live like this anymore. I have to be honest with myself and with everyone else.” I turn to Mrs. Manning.
“Scarlett?” Michael says, but I ignore him. I’m not going to let him stop me.
“We got married so that Michael wouldn’t lose his inheritance,” I say. “I’m really sorry. But I needed the money for—well—let me just go from the start.”
I hear Michael panting and blowing as he’s pacing back and forth. But I couldn’t care less that he’s angry with me. This dying woman deserves the truth, and I need to tell her before she dies.
“I’m a stripper. Well, was I guess, until just this last week. I first kind of met Michael at the club. He asked for my information, but I refused him. You see, I had decided to never date anyone I met at the club.”
Diane’s face has frozen.
“The next day, my friend dragged me to church and I met Michael again. It was a total freak coincidence meeting him two days in a row. He, of course didn’t recognize me because I always wear a mask when I perform at the strip club. But after church, he asked me out.” I pause.
“Go on,” Diane says emotionless.
“On our first date, he proposed this ridiculous deal that if I’d marry him within a few weeks and divorce him after you—” I gulp. “—died, he’d split this inheritance with me fifty-fifty.”
“And you agreed to this?” Diane asks. She is frowning heavily.
“Yes,” I say, ashamed.
“Michael,” she curses under her breath and shoots him a killer glare. How does she do that? It’s like she can kill
someone with just one glance. “Why Scarlett, did you accept this ridiculous deal?” Her eyes look golden.
“Because I desperately needed the money. I’m behind on my parents’ mortgage payments, and could lose their house. The house my father built. And I am trying to get chemotherapy treatments for my dad; he too is suffering from cancer, but I didn’t have the money. So I saw this as a way out of all my financial problems. And then I—fell in love with Michael in the process.”
Diane nods slowly. “So you did it all out of love?”
I’m surprised by her question. “I suppose. But it doesn’t excuse the fact that I lied.”
“Michael, you greedy son of a bitch.” Diane stares at him.
Michael doesn’t say a word, but his jaw is clenched shut.
“Don’t be so hard on him,” I say. “He just wanted to keep the money in the family. And I do feel sorry for him that his ex-fiancé had just broken up with him. I mean, that’s not his fault.”
“Bah, she was no good for him anyway,” Diane says. “Michael, I’d like to speak with your wife alone, if you don’t mind.”
He looks at her, and then at me and then storms out.
“I’m sorry for your involvement in this. My son, apparently, has no boundaries when it comes to getting his hands on the family money.” Diane looks at me, completely sober. “Let me ask you this. Do you still love him?”
“Honestly?” I say.
Her brow furrows. “Just tell me the truth, Scarlett. No more lies.”
I look down at the floor. “Yes,” I say, barely a whisper. My eyes are brimming with tears now, and I feel so lost. “I’m really sorry I lied to everyone. I should have been truthful from the beginning.”
“Well, I think you’ve suffered enough, dear girl. Michael isn’t exactly a saint. He’s a good man, but he needs a strong woman to keep him in line. You are that strong woman. And I think he loves you still, but his pride is too bruised to see it,” Diane says.
“No, I think he hates me. Especially now that I exposed our devious plan.”
The Black Chapel Page 17