Cindy's Prince

by Bush, Christine

  ****

  Cindy sat quietly, listening to the rhythmic purr of the gears as he accelerated and maneuvered the car through the streets. What had happened?

  One moment he had been attentive and vibrant, the next like the sphinx—as if the light had gone out. She let him be. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, turning her head occasionally to try to organize her hair as it fluttered around her in the windy convertible. After a few attempts, she decided to give up and enjoy the ride. And, she had to add, enjoy watching the man beside her deep in thought.

  Though somber, he was cute when he was thinking. There was an intensity about him, from the firm set to his jaw, to the slight squinting of his eyes. His knuckles were white from their grip on the steering wheel. He drove with even more precision than before. The ride was smooth, and Prince didn’t even react when a guy in a Phillies baseball cap darted in front of the Aston Martin and tried to cut him off. It showed an impressing kind of self control.

  So what was he thinking about? Her innocent question had shut him down. What are you passionate about? Or maybe, she thought with a flash of intuition, it wasn’t the question at all. Maybe it was the answer. Nothing.

  The air blew deliciously around her as the Aston Martin made a turn, propelled by its pensive driver. She would enjoy the ride. Maybe it wasn’t her business. But she was curious, maybe even nosy. However, she knew thinking was important, and thinking took time. She let him think. And hoped sooner or later he’d want to talk. The sadness on his face touched her.

  The car slid to a stop in front of the library. He still hadn’t spoken a word and stared straight ahead.

  She leaned over then, quickly, before she could outthink herself, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then she gave him a gentle smile, as she opened the car door. She stepped out quickly, not waiting for him to come around to assist her. “I had a great time. I hope you liked my fancy lunch spot.”

  He didn’t quite grin, but his eyes were wide, the corners of his mouth turned up just a little bit. “Lunch was nice, Cindy. I’m sorry I got so quiet. It had nothing to do with you.” He started to get out of the car.

  She motioned for him to stay in the car. “Quiet is okay,” she said softly. “Seems you had something on your mind. And that’s okay. But I’ve got to get back to work now, so I’ll say goodbye. Thanks for the ride too. Great car!”

  ****

  In a flash, she was gone, moving like a gazelle across the sidewalk, up the steps, and disappearing through the big doors. He sat, staring as long as he could, wondering about the feelings rolling around in him like thunder echoing in a stormy valley. She had kissed him. He was sure his face was beet red, and not just from the whisker scrubbing. He was on fire. He was also confused, surprised, and mystified.

  She sure wasn’t like any of the women he had met so far in his supposed charmed life. She was focused, creative, natural, and nice. Very nice. She really cared about people. There was a kindness about her that spread to everyone she came into contact with. He really liked that. He was amazed just how much he liked that. And despite his sullen moment, she had kissed him.

  What are you passionate about?

  The time had come to figure out an answer to that question.

  Chapter Nine

  “You drew whiskers on the man? On Princeton Highfield of Philadelphia high society?” Connie was practically gasping for air. “He ate a hot dog? You made the man who could be on the cover of GQ sit on a blanket and eat a hotdog?”

  “Hmmm. And he liked it. Imagine that.” Cindy folded clothes at warp speed. Morgan’s pants, Hannah’s pants, Shirts, sweats, pajamas. The little orderly piles grew. “Here, don’t just stand there, fold the towels.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” She made a face, but she folded.

  “The whiskers were an inspiration. Just came out of nowhere.”

  “So what’s your point? Is this suppressed anger? A sadistic streak? Or just your winning little way of making sure any reasonable, handsome, normal, available man who enters your universe will make an immediate about face and run away?”

  “Maybe all of the above,” Cindy said quietly. “And on this occasion, I must admit I outdid myself.”

  “And he stayed.” Connie held out a stack of towels.

  “He stayed. And then I kissed him.” Cindy’s stomach did a little flip at the memory.

  Connie froze then her face broke into a wide grin. “You kissed him? Honest to God?”

  Cindy nodded solemnly. “I did. On the cheek.”

  “And people say miracles don’t occur. How about that? Even on the cheek. Boy, I’ll bet he was shocked.”

  The clothes were finished. The kids were asleep for the night. The dishes were done. “Do you think,” Connie went on, “Just for kicks, you could be nice to the man the next time he calls? Or shows up to star in a library performance? Maybe just not disfigure him? Let him eat somewhere they have chairs?”

  Connie tucked her feet under her and nestled into the couch. “I guess I’m just not man-bait like you are. What I would do with a man like that.”

  “I am NOT man-bait. And you can have him.” Cindy grimaced.

  “I can?”

  “No, you can’t. He may not be my type, but he’s less your type.”

  “Well that’s true. My type is more like Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous who’s been hanging around the neighborhood lately.”

  Cindy turned and stared. “Who?”

  “You know, the guy who sat on the step across the street the other day. I saw him again today, standing on the corner outside the clinic. This time he read a newspaper, waiting for the light to turn. The guy sure likes to read.”

  “Did you talk to him?” Apprehension flashed through her.

  “No. Just couldn’t help noticing him. He’s a looker. All of a sudden, we have an abundance of good-looking men in the neighborhood. Lucky us.”

  “Well, let me know if you see him again,” Cindy said, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

  “Don’t be paranoid. The world is not full of monsters. The past is past. Jimmy and his lowlife friends are gone. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Cindy knew Connie’s words were probably true, but putting the fear out of her mind and heart was hard. Memories of those days came rushing back—when Hannah was a baby, losing her sister, and suddenly finding out whatever Jimmy had been involved with was far from safe and honorable.

  But he was gone. She had moved to a whole different part of the city. And they had absolutely nothing to do with that old life.

  Life had been quiet since then, though she had still not totally stopped looking over her shoulder. The past had stayed in the past. Until the box arrived. The box, and Prince Highfield. Which didn’t have to mean a thing.

  “So, Cinderella, is Prince Charming going to call? You didn’t drop a shoe or anything?”

  Cindy laughed at her friend. “You know we have nothing in common. He’s from one world, I’m from another. And I more or less like my world. Just as it is. I don’t have the time or inclination to have a man in my life. I have a big job to do, raising these kids. The last thing I need is to be diverted from that focus. And men, as I learned the hard way, aren’t so readily dedicated to raising someone else’s kids.”

  “I’d like to tell you what I think you need, but I think you’d throw the couch pillow at me. Haven’t you ever heard opposites attract?”

  “That’s attraction. Attraction gets women in hot water. People have to have like values, like goals to make a relationship work. We are just not the same. He’s a rich, spoiled playboy, even if he’s a pretty nice one.” She thought suddenly of the compassion he had shown for Mary Beth in her wheel chair.

  “Don’t discriminate against the poor little rich boy, Cin. If he calls, give him a chance, okay? I mean, really. The man wore whiskers. He deserves a break.”

  “Okay.” Cindy laughed. “I will try not to discriminate. If he calls, I will listen. And I can say that,
knowing he will not call.”

  She thought of the silent ride home, when she had asked him about his passions. Whatever spark there had been had been doused, she was sure. Why in heaven had she kissed him?

  “Oh goody,” said Connie, clapping her hands with enthusiasm. “I do love a good drama. Now, ring, phone!”

  The phone rang.

  ****

  She’d said yes. Prince resisted the urge to jump up and down like a teenager when he hung up the phone. He had a date with Cindy Castle. It was a big deal. Why did it feel like a big deal? He’d asked dozens of attractive young women out throughout his dating years. Once in a while, he’d been a little nervous. Once in a while, he’d wondered if they’d say yes at the time. Come to think of it, they’d always said yes.

  So why was this different? Picking up the phone had been an act of courage. With heart in his throat, he’d asked her to go to dinner on Saturday night. With the feeling his lungs would never again suck air; he’d waited for her response. And she’d sure taken her time giving him an answer.

  His breathing resumed. A smile etched his far. She’d said yes. And for some reason still eluding him, that fact mattered a lot.

  The days until Saturday crawled by. He’d taken a razzing from his buddies when the story of his “bear performance” spread through the grapevine. Haley’s sister had done her work. But he didn’t care.

  His mother had cornered him on his last visit.

  “I’ve heard about your escapades at the library with the little librarian, Princeton. Are you sure that was wise? Being seen with her gives a certain impression. Not exactly suitable for a Highfield, dear, wouldn’t you say in retrospect?”

  In truth, in retrospect, his willingness to take up the challenge had opened the door to getting to know Cindy, and he had no regrets. He would have touted feathers and danced in the New Year’s Mummers Parade if she had asked. Pleasing her was important.

  But he also knew, never in a million years, would his mother understand. He put an arm around her shoulder. She stiffened in his arms, as if uncomfortable with the closeness, but he didn’t remove his arm. He hugged her even closer.

  “You’ve got to trust me on this one, Mother. This is a very special woman, and she means a lot to me.”

  Celia Highfield looked absolutely stricken. “Princeton, don’t be ridiculous. If you have any intention of having a liaison with this woman, why, think of the consequences. Your father—”

  “Mother, my father cannot dictate the details of my personal life. Bad enough that until now I’ve allowed him to dictate my professional life, for the sake of the family business.”

  “My goodness, young man, I’m not sure what’s come over you.” Her face still looked unsettled, but there was a question in her eyes. “You certainly seem happy. Though Haley Carrington is—”

  “Is a very nice young woman. But not for me, Mother. Not for me.”

  She pulled away from him, turned, and looked back into his eyes. “I hope this young woman is what you think, Princeton. Your father has had expectations. You are opening up Pandora’s Box. He does not take these things well.”

  “I know. But I’ve got to choose my own life, Mother. All of a sudden, I know that loud and clear.”

  She stared at her youngest son. “I see that. You’ve changed. I’m not sure what’s come over you.”

  You aren’t the only one. But it felt good, whatever it was. He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

  ****

  Cindy pulled a brush through her thick dark hair, lifted it loosely with a twist, and clipped it to the back of her head with an antique looking silver hair clip she had found at a yard sale. A few tendrils framed her face, and she applied some light lipstick as she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad.

  With thanks to Connie’s closet, she wore a simple black dress, set off by silver pendant matching her hair clip. Connie’s black pumps were a half size too large, but they would do. Despite her usual unconcern for fashion, she knew her worn leather sandals would look inappropriate. The heels weren’t too high, which was a good thing, as she ran a real risk of breaking her neck trying to adjust to heels.

  Cindy sighed and shook her head. What was she doing?

  She had a stomachache, looking at herself in the mirror, all dressed up. Truth was, it had been over two years since she’d worn heels, or fussed with her hair. Two years. The face in the mirror stared back at her; the pain, the memories drifting over her like a cold breeze. She thought of her troubled sister, due to deliver Hannah, Morgan as a toddler.

  Her own life had taken a magical twist, ever since the day she had met the handsome and dashing George VonKirk. She had never known just why he had been attracted to her. She was so different from his Ivy League, polo playing friends. But like radar, he had zoomed in on her, sweeping her off her usually well-grounded feet. He’d wined and dined her, and had shown her his world of country clubs and wealth. She’d protested, doubted, and then finally believed in their love.

  She sighed as she applied lotion to her hands, rubbing them together vigorously.

  His parents had been opposed to their engagement, but had agreed with reluctance when their son had insisted. Or so she had thought at the time.

  But then, tragedy had struck. Her sister had died in childbirth. With no mother, and their father missing and uninvolved, she had looked down at baby Hannah when she had been placed in her arms by a tearful nurse. Morgan had stood beside her with his toddler chubby arms wrapped around her knee. She had made a promise at that moment, to God, to the children, to herself, she would love and care for them with her whole aching heart. And she had meant those words.

  Looking back, she could see George’s words of agreement were half hearted at best. Raising someone else’s children was a big commitment. His parents had renewed their resistance to the marriage. The situation was, they stressed, untenable, and a perfect example of how she and her sister were “not from their world.” She could see the strain in him.

  Despite the offer she made to cancel the marriage, he had stoically confirmed his desire to take her as his wife. He was full of promises of happy futures, happy endings. So she had gone ahead, heart full of love for George and her two young charges, excitedly awaiting her wedding day.

  Her eyes grew misty at the memories. She blinked the tears away.

  While a part of her heart had shattered when he had abandoned her that day, feeling every morsel of shame and humiliation, part of her had grown stronger. Her commitment to the children had been cemented. Her expectation level for other people had been significantly lowered. She would never allow herself to need someone again. She’d stand on her own two feet and be proud of it. This fierce determination had gotten her over the unruly emotions she’d faced with the thwarted wedding. That same strength guided her out of anxiety and fear caused by Jimmy’s old friends.

  Cindy had stayed away from any new social entanglements, having learned her lesson. Her heart had been wrapped tight and safe. Until now. Why was she doing this?

  She had risen to Connie’s challenge, and she had agreed to go to dinner with the handsome, eligible bachelor who often graced the society pages. She was a girl who liked a challenge, but she had a terrible feeling she was way out of her league. Again. She had let Connie dress her, prop her up, and cheer her on.

  Just this once. To prove she could. To prove it was not her choice to yearn for a gallant rescuer on a white horse who would sweep her off her feet and carry her away to his castle. She wasn’t afraid of that world, she just didn’t choose it. She was absolutely okay in this life of hers. A couple of stolen kisses couldn’t change that.

  Connie was even watching the kids for the evening, having chided her all week about wanting to live vicariously to watch Cinderella and the Prince. Despite the fact she wanted to wring her best friend’s neck for the whole predicament, she knew she owed her big time.

  The kids were nestled with Connie and her daughter, Jasmine, on the livi
ng room couch, engrossed in a Disney video.

  “Woo, woo!” her friend exclaimed as she came down the stairs. “Hot stuff! You clean up good, girl!”

  A dog barked on the video and all three kids giggled as they watched.

  “I think Hannah-bear isn’t feeling too good,” said Connie. “We’re going to forego any more of the chocolate donuts I brought over and have something bland instead.”

  Worry creased Cindy’s brow. “Maybe I should cancel. I’ll call him.”

  “Forget it. You’re not backing out of this one, Cindy Castle. I can handle an upset stomach. Take your cell phone, and have a good time. I’m really only telling you so you know there will be chocolate donuts left over when you get back. Maybe. Unless I get hungry.”

  Cindy smiled, and pulled her black fringed shawl from the closet. “You are one of a kind. Have I told you how much I love you? Though I think this date may be a stupid idea.”

  “Stupid is as stupid does, they say. I know you love me. AND you owe me big time. Don’t forget. I’ll collect.” Connie laughed.

  The door bell rang.

  Cindy froze on the spot, her knees suddenly weak. She stared at her friend in a panic.

  Connie smirked. “If you want me to get off this couch and answer the door, too, the price goes up. Not only will you owe me a free night of babysitting, but a pizza with everything, delivered!”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” The blood flowed again in her veins. “I’ll get the door.”

  He was, of course, gorgeous. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, when she opened the door, and he stood in front of her, she looked into his eyes, as a power flowed between them. Like a surge of energy, it charged her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

  She felt like an alien in her own body, full of wonder, and instantly, full of apprehension. What was happening to her?