But do I even have them? she wondered. Her dad and Evelyn had only emailed once the whole time she’d been in Macon. Aunt Landon was the one family member Allie could always depend upon, and she’d even hinted about disinheriting Allie if she got too involved with Frederick.
Allie curled her toes, concentrated hard, and begged the Lord for more insight. So I’ve let them make my decisions, she thought. I didn’t marry Frederick ten years ago because of Aunt Landon. Even though I’ve wanted a career for years, I haven’t gotten a job because Dad doesn’t believe an Elton should work.
I came here because Dad and Evelyn would rather go to the beach than deal with Macy in her sick mode. Of course, they didn’t seem to care what I wanted to do. They never do. Fleetingly, Allie wondered if Macy felt the same. If so, perhaps that was the root of her perpetual illnesses. In order to get some love and support, she concocted all sorts of physical problems just as Allie played the part of the family mouse in order to please everyone.
Closing her puffy eyes, Allie groaned. Sarah Hamilton is more of a sister to me than either Evelyn or Macy, she thought and relived the supportive phone call Sarah had placed this morning. She hadn’t read Allie’s email about Frederick’s marrying Louise until she went to the office, and Sarah had stopped her whole schedule to place an emergency call to her friend. She’d been loving, supportive, and had insisted that Allie plan a long visit at her place in Atlanta. Allie had agreed.
“Allie?” Macy touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Allie opened her eyes, propped her head against the headrest, and gazed at her sister. “No, I’m not,” she said. “And I don’t think I’ve been okay since Mom died, really.”
Macy looked down, picked at her thumbnail. “Why’d you have to bring that up? We were laughing and having a good time.”
“Maybe because it’s time we bring that up,” Allie responded, “and bring it up regularly.” She flipped on the air conditioner and enjoyed the blast of cooler air. The car was getting stuffy.
Averting her gaze out the window, Macy said, “I’d rather not.”
“I know. But I don’t think any of us is going to come to terms with it until we start talking it through.”
Macy’s only response was clenching her hands into a tight ball.
Allie covered Macy’s fists with her fingers and squeezed. “I love you, Macy,” she whispered. “And I don’t think I say it enough.”
Her eyes watery, Macy turned toward her sister. “I love you, too,” she responded. “And I’m going to miss you s-so bad.”
“I know . . . I know,” Allie soothed and pulled Macy into her arms. She rested her head against Macy’s and tried to sound cheerful when she said, “Hey! Why don’t you bring the twins up and spend a weekend or two with me and Aunt Landon? Who knows, I might get really wild and get a job and a townhouse. Then you could come up every weekend if you wanted.”
Macy laughed out loud and pulled away. “That’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard,” she said and rubbed at her damp cheeks. “Dad would never let you do that! You’re an Elton, remember? Eltons don’t work,” she added, mimicking their father’s tone syllable for syllable.
“Maybe it’s time one does,” Allie responded and gazed past Macy toward the rose garden, now in full bloom.
“You’re serious?” Macy prompted.
“Maybe.” Allie ran her fingertips along the top of the floor gearshift covered in leather. “What happens if this whole plan to save the estate fails and we have to file for bankruptcy?” Allie asked. “I’d feel much better if I was already supporting myself.”
“Why don’t you do what I did and marry somebody with money?” Macy snapped her fingers as if she were a magician calling a rich bachelor into existence.
“You’re starting to sound like Aunt Landon,” Allie replied.
“What about Brent Everson?” Macy asked. “He couldn’t stop looking at you Sunday. He’s driving a Rolls, and you know Chrissy was loaded when she died. He’s probably making salads out of hundred-dollar-bills these days.”
“No.” Allie shook her head.
“Really? I thought I saw his car over here last night.” Macy toyed with her seat belt.
“You did. But he’s not the one.” Although her tone was soft, Allie laced it with strong resolve.
And Macy didn’t push the subject. Instead she said, “But you’ve got your trust fund still, don’t you? You could live off that interest.”
Allie examined the car’s radio. Sarah’s trip through medical school had put a huge dent in her trust fund. The interest on her investments would help pad her earnings and nothing more. Presently, Allie was allowing the interest to stay within her investment account while she lived off the Elton allowance.
“You do still have your trust fund, don’t you?” Macy asked, her eyes dubious.
“Since we’re getting so honest here, I might as well tell you. . . .” Allie sighed. “I helped pay Sarah Hamilton’s way through med school and, well, a couple of other students, too.”
“What?!”
“Yes.” Allie nodded. “Nobody knows. Not even Sarah. So please.” Allie gripped Macy’s arm. “Please don’t tell anyone this, either, okay?”
“So is it, like, all gone?” Macy pulled on a strand of her hair.
“No.” Allie shook her head. “I’ve still got some of it. Just not what you or Evelyn have—unless Evelyn’s already blown hers.”
“I haven’t even touched mine!” Macy asserted and released the lock of hair.
Allie laughed at the irony. She’d have figured Macy’s trust fund was history by now.
“What’s so funny?” Macy raised her brows.
“Oh, nothing.” Allie put the engine in reverse. “Enough about all my problems. Let’s go get your purse and see my nephews, okay?” she said and hoped the visit with them went as well as her chat with Macy.
Twenty-Nine
A week later, Allie stooped over Aunt Landon’s flowerbed, trying to decide if she should add a row of geraniums or ferns next in the huge circular bed. A flat of each of the plants rested near her feet. Even though her aunt had a yardman, Allie had been eager to dig her hands into some project that would help get her mind off of Frederick and Louise. Carving out a new flowerbed started with a garden tiller three days ago and had kept her busy.
Unfortunately nothing seemed able to stop her thinking about Frederick. At least she had stopped crying, but the emptiness remained. Allie felt as if she’d been given a glimpse of heaven, only to have it snatched away.
She hiked up her baggy work jeans, dropped to her knees, and decided the ferns were next. They’d be a perfect balance between the geraniums and azaleas that served as the focal point around the birdbath in the center. The earth smelled great and felt just as good against her fingers. She’d added peat moss, and the rich black mixture mingled with brown earth for a combination high in nutrients. Noticing a cracked nail and marred manicure, Allie came close to regretting her decision not to use gloves. But then she wouldn’t feel the dirt, and she so enjoyed that connection with nature.
Deciding manicures were made to be repaired, Allie picked up her miniature spade and began tackling the soil. On her third overturn, a bumblebee zoomed by her ear. Allie jumped back. When the winged bomb targeted her for another swoop, she swung her spade at him and jumped to her feet. Her left leg protested the swift movement, and Allie shifted her weight to the right.
Aunt Landon had given her some body lotion, and Allie lavished her skin with it this morning. Even though she looked like a bum, Allie wanted to at least smell good. When the bee arrived for another round, she wondered if he thought she was a potential pollen factory.
“Yoo-hoo! Allie dear!” Aunt Landon’s high-pitched call stopped Allie on the verge of all-out war.
She pivoted to face her aunt, who was exiting the home’s sunroom. The moderate-sized house featured all the latest in modern architecture and bespoke taste, class, and money. The large s
unroom, replete with floor-to-ceiling windows, offered a perfect view of anyone inside. Allie spotted an “anyone” whom she never expected.
Brent Everson followed Landon from the sunroom into the yard. Oh no! Allie thought, and she was so distraught she ignored the bee as it hummed closer.
“There’s a wonderful young man who’s come to see you!” Beaming, Landon stopped on the edge of the circle and lifted her hand toward Brent as if he were royalty. “I had just let Tiffany in when I saw the most gorgeous Rolls-Royce driving up, and wouldn’t you know, Prince Charming got out!”
His ever-deepening tan made his hair’s blond streaks appear even blonder. The sand-colored shorts and white polo shirt heightened the effect. And Allie didn’t have to wonder why Aunt Landon smiled like a cat who’d captured the most succulent mouse on the planet.
“We’ve already been chatting for absolutely ages!” Landon said. “At first I didn’t remember him, and then he reminded me he once dated Evelyn. I can’t believe how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other!” Landon laid her diamond-crusted hand upon her chest and fluttered her eyelashes at Brent. Allie wondered if her aunt might like him for herself, even though he was about ten years younger.
“And I must say,” Brent purred, “you’ve never looked younger or more beautiful.”
Oh brother! Allie thought and narrowed her eyes. While Aunt Landon was an absolute fashion plate in her linen capris and gold sandals, Allie recognized thick flattery. And Brent was laying it on.
His satisfied smile was miles removed from the “mourning widower” image he’d portrayed in Macon. Today Brent reminded Allie more of a pampered sheik. She thought of Jim Bennington. Allie hadn’t heard from him since the night Louise broke her neck. She fully believed that Jim was indeed grieving the loss of his beloved, but a new series of doubts popped up regarding Brent.
When Brent turned his attention back to Allie, his smile morphed into gaping horror.
A shock of alarm flashed through Allie. She looked around, fully expecting a monstrous viper or some other evil beast that would invoke Brent’s reaction.
“Be still, Allie!” Brent bellowed and lunged forward.
Allie stiffened. Her eyes wide, she braced herself against Brent’s attack. Waving wildly, the man went for her head, and Allie stumbled back.
“Bee!” Brent screamed.
Her canvas shoe caught on a flat of plants, and Allie tripped backward. Arms flailing, she plopped onto the dirt, bottom first. Her teeth jarred against each other. When she looked up, Brent hovered over her.
“There was this huge bumblebee sitting on your head,” he panted.
A nearing buzz announced the flower seeker was zooming in for another look.
“Here he comes again!” Brent shrieked. He snatched up Allie’s garden spade and charged the bee.
“Why don’t we just go in?” Landon suggested.
“I think he likes my body lotion.” Allie hoisted herself up. Brent swatted at the bee while Allie hustled toward the sunroom, brushing the soil from her seat with every step. “I’m going to have to remember not to use that stuff when I’m working outside. It’s lethal!”
Laughing, Landon followed Allie inside.
Like a combat soldier with a machete, Brent backed toward the door, the spade held in both hands.
Allie nearly laughed out loud at his stance until the guy whipped around and ducked inside. His ashen face suggested he’d been fighting a livid cobra.
“Oh my word,” he said and grabbed Allie by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Did that thing sting you?”
“No, not at all,” Allie said and waved aside his bizarre concern.
“Thank God,” Brent breathed, his eyes rolling shut. “I promise, I thought I was having a flashback to Chrissy.” His lips shook, and Allie realized the man was genuinely disturbed. The mourning widower was back, and Allie was driven to a supportive response.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and covered his hand with hers. “Look, sit here.” She tugged him to the wicker settee and glanced toward her aunt. “Maybe a glass of iced tea?” she prompted.
“Of course!” Landon agreed, her face full of questions and curiosity. She got up and headed toward the kitchen.
Brent dropped into a chair, propped his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands. “All I could see was you being swarmed by those things. I flashed back to Chrissy.” He shivered. “She was so covered in stings her eyes swelled shut.”
“I’m okay,” Allie soothed and knelt next to him. While she already knew the history of Chrissy’s death, she figured it did Brent good to vent some, especially after such a scare. Allie also repented of her judgmental thoughts from moments ago. Even if he had acted like a satisfied sheik, Aunt Landon was treating him like he should act that way.
“Really, bumblebees have never scared me that much,” Allie said and tried a cheerful smile. “They’re more annoying than anything else.”
“A bee is a bee in my book,” Brent said.
Landon breezed into the sunroom. “Here’s some tea for everyone,” she chirped and set the bamboo service tray on the wicker coffee table. “The cook left us with a full pitcher of mango madness last night. That ought to liven us up.” She wiggled her brows, and Allie smiled a bit.
Brent chuckled. “I’ve had about all the liveliness I can stand for a while.”
“I’m just going to step into the bathroom and wash my hands now,” Allie said and lifted her dirt-smudged fingers.
“Please do, dear,” Landon admonished. “Why you refuse to wear gardening gloves is anybody’s guess.”
Allie didn’t bother to tell her aunt how much she enjoyed the feel of dirt. She’d already told her dozens of times to no avail.
As Allie walked away, Landon was using silver tongs to grab ice cubes from the bucket and plunk them into the tall, crystal tumblers. After a quick hand-scrub and change into clean clothes, Allie settled into the corner chair near Brent and sipped her mango madness, glad for the break. Even though the morning was cool, she’d nearly worked herself into a fit of perspiration before the bee attack.
“I’m sorry I went ballistic out there,” Brent said, his gaze taking in first Allie and then Landon. “Did you know my first wife was killed by a swarm of killer bees?”
“You’re kidding!” Landon exclaimed.
“No.” Brent’s expression was as serious as the day of the funeral. “Any time I see a bee, I see death, more or less.”
“I am so sorry,” Landon crooned. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I believe I do remember Allie going to that funeral a couple of years ago, but I didn’t connect it to you.”
“Yes,” Brent replied. “Chrissy was my wife.”
“My cousin,” Allie supplied and followed with a long swallow of the honey-laden liquid. “Dad’s brother’s daughter.”
“Right.” Landon nodded. “I remember everything now. I even thought about going to that funeral, but I’d already bought my plane ticket for my trip to Canada.” She crossed her legs, rested her elbow on her chair’s armrest, and leaned toward Brent. “I have a good friend who lives there.”
Brent nodded and sipped his sweet tea. As the chitchat continued, he tried to get control of himself. He couldn’t keep his tea glass from trembling as fiercely as his legs. He’d nearly had a stroke when he saw that huge bee sitting on Allie’s head like it was staking territory. All he could see was a Chrissy repeat and Allie’s millions being snatched from his grasp. Of course, if she were attacked by bees after their wedding, then Brent would be less worried. At least he’d get some of what she was worth at her death, just as he had with Chrissy.
He attempted a smile at Landon, who wasn’t bad to look at herself. She had that spoiled-rich-lady appeal that Brent could spot ten miles away. Her pale hair was perfectly highlighted, her makeup immaculate. Her fingernails bore a flawless French manicure with toenails to match. And Brent decided if he totally failed with Allie, he might place Landon
as the next attempt on his list. She had to be at least a decade older than he. But Brent wouldn’t have cared if she were two decades older, as long as she had plenty of green. That color had such a way of softening a woman’s age.
A black Persian cat strolled into the sunroom and rubbed her body against a ficus tree’s brass pot. After a pitiful meow, the creature twined her way toward Landon, who set her tea on the Italian tile and scooped up the feline.
“There you are, you sweet darlin’,” Landon crooned and scratched the cat’s neck. “How’s Mama’s baby?”
That’s when Brent spotted the thin cat collar studded in diamonds. He sputtered through a swallow of tea and nearly choked.
“Are you okay?” Allie asked.
Hacking, Brent nodded and wheezed “Yes,” while adding Landon Russ to his list of definite matrimonial candidates. But first he needed to concentrate on snaring Allie. Today she wore no makeup but still had a sun-kissed appeal that wasn’t half bad. Of course, she could have warts on her nose and purple skin and Brent would have thought she was beautiful. Any woman as rich as an Elton was a supermodel to him.
After draining his tea glass, Brent set it on the coffee table and smiled toward Allie. “Actually, the reason I came was to ask you to lunch.”
“Oh!” Allie said and gazed toward her aunt.
“What are you looking at me for?” Landon encouraged while stroking the cat. “Go get ready. The man wants to take you to lunch!” She aimed a sassy wink at Brent.
He winked back.
“But I was going to change clothes and finish the flowerbed,” Allie protested and avoided eye contact with Brent.
“Oh nonsense!” Landon waved aside the whole protest. “That’s what yardmen are for. Let John battle the bees. Go on and enjoy yourself. It’ll do you good!”
“Well . . .” Allie hedged and looked down.
Even though she’d kept him at arm’s length during their last date, Brent had expected a little more enthusiasm over his offer. He’d already prepared himself to move at a snail’s pace with Allie, but her hesitancy would exasperate Job himself.
Possibilities: A Contemporary Retelling of Persuasion Page 21