by Judith Gould
Frogs, along with unseen creatures of all sorts, had begun singing their nightly chorale, but she took little comfort from their cacophony. She had to admit that company would be nice, human company preferably, but was determined that she wouldn't let her loneliness drive her to Teddy.
Suddenly she heard a noise around at the side of the house. Elvis scrambled to his feet and barked. For a moment she was alarmed. Then she realized that it was simply the creaking of the hinge on the front garden gate.
Colette, she thought. With the exception of her mother and Teddy—both of whom would call first—Colette was the only person who would come around that way rather than ring the doorbell at the front first. Elvis had quit barking and stood wagging his tail at the door that led onto the porch. Valerie smiled somewhat ruefully. I'm going to have company after all, she thought.
"Val, darling?" Colette's near whisper was like an exotic sigh carried by the late summer breeze. "Are you there?"
"I'm here, Colette," she replied. "On the porch."
"Am I a bother?" the older woman asked.
"You know better than that, Colette."
From out of the darkness, the older woman's snowy hair appeared, and Valerie watched as she took deliberate little steps on the stone path that led to the porch.
"Wait, Colette," she said. "Let me turn on the light for you."
"No, no, my darling," Colette said. "Don't break the spell. It's so lovely like this. So romantic."
Valerie rose to her feet and went out onto the path and took Colette's arm. "Here," she said. "Let me lead the way at least."
On the porch, Colette settled herself in a chair, petting Elvis while Valerie lit several candles on the dining table.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" Valerie asked.
"Oh, lovely, darling," Colette said. "My grandfather, a doctor, always said a glass before bedtime was just the ticket."
"I'll be right back," Valerie said.
She stepped through the open French doors into the kitchen and got a crystal wineglass out of a cabinet, then retrieved a bottle of chilled white wine out of the refrigerator. She set Colette's glass on the table next to her chair, then filled the glass.
"Oh, Val," Colette enthused, "you are a saint for putting up with an old ninny like me."
Valerie laughed. "Don't be silly," she said. "You know you're welcome here anytime, Colette."
Valerie refreshed her own glass of wine and sat back down. She took a sip, staring at one of the candles, ringed by moths, its honeysuckle scent pleasant in her nostrils. She felt Colette's eyes on her, but didn't break the silence.
Colette lifted her goblet delicately by the stem, swirled the wine in the glass, then took a tiny sip. "Delicious," she pronounced, setting the glass back down. "Heavenly on the palate."
Valerie turned to her slowly and smiled. "It is, isn't it?" she agreed. "Teddy gave it to me." She paused a moment, her gaze shifting back to the candle. "He knows so much about wine," she continued, "and always makes such good choices. He doesn't trust me to." She laughed lightly, but there was no humor in it.
"Teddy does have excellent taste," Colette said, "but that's not everything, is it?"
Valerie looked at her, and Colette cocked her brow. Valerie laughed again, but it was genuine this time, full of mirth. "You're a pistol, Colette," she said.
"And you're unhappy," the older woman said, picking up her wineglass again. The large rings on her fingers flashed brilliantly in the candlelight.
Valerie started to reply, but clammed up instead, watching Colette sip the wine, thinking about what she'd said. A lot of people thought of Colette as a supercilious woman, capricious to a fault, eccentric in her ways, and spoiled by money, and Valerie realized that all of that was undeniably true. It was not all that Colette was, however, and Valerie would never underestimate her friend. For among her other assets, Colette was extremely observant, worldly wise, and had a wealth of experiences and knowledge. In fact, Valerie thought, she's probably the sharpest person I know.
Much of Colette's eccentricity, Valerie had decided, was part of a pose that the old woman had long ago perfected, a protective pose that she had developed to keep the world at arm's length. On the surface, Colette appeared to be carefree and fun-loving, a bit zany and daring, and she was all of those things. But she'd also been wounded by life and chose to keep her disappointments to herself.
Valerie decided not to brush off Colette's remark, and at last asked, "Why do you say that, Colette?"
Colette turned sharp eyes on her. "It's simple, Val. I don't see the blush on the peach that ought to be there when one is deeply in love," she replied. "You're not excited by Teddy. That much is clear. To me at least."
Valerie felt her face burn with embarrassment. Is it that obvious? she wondered. She looked off into the distance, then cleared her throat and turned to Colette. "I ... I guess you're right," she said in a small voice. "I've been seeing Teddy so long that I guess he's . . ." She stopped and searched for words.
"Teddy's become a habit," Colette supplied. "And why not? He's handsome and has charm. He has money and connections. He's well-bred, and . . . he's a dreadful bore. At least, to you. And, I daresay, to me as well."
Valerie erupted into laughter.
Colette smiled. "Am I on the mark, darling?"
Valerie nodded her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "I guess you are, Colette," she said. She looked over at her friend. "Oh, hell," she said with a laugh, "you've hit the nail on the head, as usual."
Colette nodded knowingly, her eyes still on Valerie.
Valerie took a sip of her wine, then set the glass down. "But I don't know what to do about it," she said with a sigh. "I feel so damn guilty. We've gone together for so long, and he's so determined. And so is Mother, of course."
She paused and her eyes took on a faraway look before continuing.
"I used to think that I was really in love with Teddy. He is good-looking and sweet and considerate, most of the time at least. All those things you said." She smiled ruefully at Colette. "But I'm beginning to realize that he was really the first man that paid any attention to me. I guess I felt so grateful that I thought I was in love."
Colette reached an arm over and brushed Valerie's cheek with her fingertips. "These things happen, Val darling, and they're unfortunate and sad. But you mustn't allow it to drag you down and make you unhappy. If you really think it's over with Teddy—and it certainly sounds as if that's the case to me—then the thing for you to do is end it." She sliced a hand through the air. "Like that!" she exclaimed. "Cut the cord. If you don't, the pain—yours and his—will go on and on. You're just prolonging the inevitable. Don't you see?"
Valerie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She knew very well that Colette's words were true, but they were difficult to hear nevertheless. It was a problem she simply didn't want to face.
"I just... I guess I'm just a chicken," Valerie said at last. She looked over at Colette. "I don't want to have to deal with this. I'm . . . I'm . . . scared, Colette. Especially since I accepted his engagement ring."
"Oh, darling," the older woman sighed, reaching over and squeezing Valerie's hand in hers. "I understand that perfectly, and I'm so sorry. I know I come on like a virago sometimes, but I am thinking of you. I hate to see you unhappy, and you haven't been happy with Teddy for quite a long time, I think."
Valerie nodded.
"The only cure for your problem is being honest. With yourself. And Teddy. A tall order, I know, but the sooner the better, I say." She looked at Valerie steadily, those large blue eyes glistening in the candlelight.
"You've got everything going for you, Val," she went on. "Everything. You have an unusual beauty. You have a wonderful career. You have a marvelous personality, and even with all your assets, you manage to be down-to-earth. You're a good person, Val, a very good person. And they're hard to find."
Valerie shifted in her chair again. She appreciated the compliments, but sometimes she sti
ll had a difficult time accepting them as the truth about herself.
"And," Colette said with emphasis, "someone, someday soon, I expect, will come along for you. A man better suited to you. I'm sure of it."
Valerie looked at her. "Do you ... do you really believe that, Colette?" she asked.
Colette nodded dramatically. "Absolutely," she said. "Someone whom you'll be happy with." She paused and sipped her wine. "Oh, realistically speaking, we all have to make concessions at times. We have to compromise, Val, don't we? But that doesn't mean you have to align yourself with a man who makes you unhappy, even if he has a lot of good qualities. Think about five years down the road. Ten. If you're unhappy with Teddy now, think of years of it."
"Oh, Colette," Valerie groaned. "I know you're right, dammit."
"And I refuse to believe that a man won't come along who'll help make your life more joyous," Colette said.
"You make me feel so much better," Valerie said. "And ... a little bit less afraid, too."
"Remember, darling," Colette said, "Teddy may be a man, and a strong and forceful one at that, but what's he going to do?" She shrugged expansively. "He has no ironclad hold over you. You're not married, after all, and this sort of thing happens all the time. So I expect he'll fuss about for a while, lick his wounds a bit, then get on with his life. There'll undoubtedly be harsh words because of his disappointment, some unpleasantness to deal with, but that won't last long. You'll see."
Valerie stared out toward the moonlight on the pond and the silvery flowers surrounding it. Its beauty held her attention for but a moment. For all of Colette's well-intentioned efforts to make her feel better and to give her courage, her last words had had a chilling effect.
Over the years she had come to realize that Teddy was a much needier man than she would ever have expected, and that from this neediness sprang a desire to control and manipulate everything—and everybody—around him, including Valerie herself. And that's where his ruthlessness came into play. For he ruthlessly pursued what he wanted—she could see that now—and would stop at almost nothing to get it. Woe be to anything or anybody who got in his way.
She suddenly wrapped her arms around herself and shivered slightly.
Does that include me? she wondered. Will Teddy refuse to let me go?
She quailed inwardly at the thought. She was glad, however, that she and Colette had had this conversation. For if nothing else, the realization that had been gradually asserting itself in her consciousness—that she didn't love Teddy and didn't want to marry him—had become crystal clear. She knew now that she must talk to Teddy as soon as possible. Colette had given her the courage to act on her feelings.
Still, a pervasive sense of dread made her uncomfortable with this knowledge. She would have to handle Teddy with kid gloves, of that she was certain.
"You're awfully quiet, Val," Colette said. "Have I disturbed you terribly with my unsolicited advice?"
"Oh, no, Colette," she replied. "I'm really grateful to you for being honest with me." She reached over and squeezed her friend's hand. "You've made me feel more sure of my own feelings. Thank you."
Colette smiled tenderly. "I love you, Val. You know that."
"I know," she replied, "and I love you. I've sometimes wished that you'd been my mother."
Colette sputtered with laughter. "As much as I love you, I would never, not in a million years, want to compete with Marguerite for that honor."
Valerie laughed with her. "How's Hayden doing, by the way?"
"Ah, he's doing beautifully," Colette exclaimed. "I just made him a new batch of turkey soup. I make a lot, then freeze it in ice trays and microwave a cube for him. He's positively addicted to it. He turns up his piggy nose at mealworms, which is what all his hedgehog friends love. I suppose Hayden's an iconoclast, which doesn't surprise me in the least. Do you want to say hello?"
"What?" Valerie asked. "You have him with you?"
"Of course, darling," she replied. "He's right here in Mummy's pocket." With one hand she reached down into one of the large pockets in her smock and carefully lifted Hayden out, holding him for Valerie to see.
"He loves my pocket," Colette said. "So he travels about the house with me."
Valerie reached over and carefully stroked the pygmy hedgehog's quills, surprised once again at their sharpness. He quivered for a moment, but then settled down as he seemed to recognize her through his excellent sense of smell.
Elvis stirred on the floor when he heard that particular cooing sound of Valerie's voice.
"Oh, ho," Valerie said. "Maybe we'd better put Hayden back in your pocket before Elvis gets too interested."
"I do let Puff Puppy have a little sniff," Colette said, "but I can't honestly say that Hayden really enjoys it half as much Puff Puppy does. Perhaps I should tuck him back in." She carefully replaced Hayden in her smock pocket, then stroked him for a while with a single finger. "It's odd, isn't it," Colette said, "the things that can give us pleasure?"
Valerie nodded in agreement. "It never ceases to amaze me. Especially in the animal—"
The telephone on the table rang loudly, its shrill man-made sound slightly unnerving them both in the quiet.
"I have to get that," Valerie said. "It could be the service calling."
"Of course, darling," Colette said. She picked up her wineglass and took a sip.
Valerie lifted up the receiver. "Hello?" she said.
"Dr. Rochelle?" a familiar voice asked.
"Yes?" she replied.
"It's Dotty at the service. Sorry to bother you, but there's been an emergency call from a place called Stonelair."
Valerie felt an involuntary chill go up her spine. Uh-oh. Can I handle a call out there tonight? she wondered. But of course, I can, she told herself.
"What seems to be the problem, Dotty?"
"Something with a horse," the operator answered. "I didn't get it all. Something about swelling and bleeding. The man sounded very upset, and I do mean very upset."
"You don't remember anything else?" Valerie asked.
"Sorry, Dr. Rochelle," she replied. "He was talking so fast I just couldn't get it all."
"Okay, Dotty," Valerie said. "And thanks a lot. If he calls back, tell him I'm on my way."
"Will do," the woman said and hung up the phone.
Valerie let out a sigh and turned to Colette. "I've got to go out to Stonelair on an emergency," she said.
Colette's eyes registered alarm. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
"I'm not sure at this point," Valerie said. "Whoever called the emergency in was very distressed, and Dotty didn't get all the details. Anyway, it's a horse, so I'd better get cracking."
"Indeed, darling," Colette said. "Hayden and I will vanish in the bat of an eyelid."
"Why don't you sit and finish your wine?" Valerie said. "You know you don't have to leave just because I am."
"Well, perhaps we will sit a tad longer and keep Elvis company," she said. "Then we'll toddle along home."
"Be right back," Valerie said. "I have to get some things." She dashed through the open French doors and into the kitchen, then on into the hallway, where she grabbed a clean lab coat from out of the closet. Then she sat down and quickly laced on a pair of sneakers. There, she thought. That will do it. She already had on jeans and an old T-shirt, so none of her good clothing was in danger of being ruined, and there was always that possibility when going on an emergency call. She grabbed her carryall and dashed back out to the porch.
"Ready?" Colette asked.
"Ready," Valerie replied. "But you and Hayden stay as long as you want," she added. "Elvis will love the company."
"Fine," Colette said. "Off you go."
Valerie dashed through the screen door, down the steps, and around to the gate that led to the front yard and her car.
Colette heard her start the Jeep and spew gravel as she pulled out of the driveway, rushing off to help a horse in some sort of distress. She took another sip of her wine and reache
d down and gave Elvis a few strokes. "Valerie will be back soon, Elvis," she said. She looked at her watch then and saw that it wasn't that late, around ten-thirty, if her eyes served her correctly.
The telephone shrilled again, and Colette stared at it. Should I answer it? she wondered. She reached over and picked up the receiver. What's to lose? she thought.
"Hello," she said. "Dr. Rochelle's residence."
"Who's this?" a man's voice demanded.
Colette did not appreciate the edge she heard in the words. "This is Colette Richards, Dr. Rochelle's neighbor."
"Oh, you."
Colette listened and heard nothing but heavy breathing.
Then the man spoke again. "Where's Val?" he demanded.
"She's on an emergency call," Colette replied, thinking that she recognized the voice now.
"Jesus!" the man exclaimed. "She's always on an emergency."
"Is that you, Teddy?" Colette ventured.
"Yes," he said, his voice almost a snarl.
"Oh, how nice to speak to you," she said. "I haven't seen you in forever, it seems."
"I've been busy," he said imperiously. "Very busy. What's the big emergency tonight?"
"Stonelair," Colette said. "There's an unfortunate horse in distress of some sort."
"Stonelair!" Teddy almost shouted. "I told her not to go out to that damn place. That guy's some kind of mobster or something."
"I think Valerie is old enough to take care of herself, Teddy," Colette said calmly. "This is a professional call, and she is highly trained to handle it."
"Yes, well, maybe so," he snapped, "but she's not trained to handle trash like Conrad."
"Oh, I think you underestimate our Valerie, Teddy," Colette said. "I think she's capable of handling a lot more than you can imagine, and I think she should be respected for it."
"What the fuck do you know?" Teddy spat.
Colette was shocked by his language. He's been drinking, she thought. Or using some sort of drug. Whatever it was, he was quite obviously in an altered state. His words were rushed, clipped, and at the same time breathy. He certainly wasn't the ever-charming and proper young man with the perfect manners everybody seemed to love. Why am I not surprised? she asked herself.