As Drew stepped into the hall, Jody called out to him. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to Cathy. After class the three of us can sit down and—”
“I’m going home after class, Jody. I’ll be in tomorrow morning—for class.”
Jody started to protest again, but Drew interrupted. “I’m going to the cabin in May. I’ll spend the summer. I might spend the year.”
***
Amy was standing in Books! Books! Books! idly flipping through a copy of a new novel.
“Excuse me. May I reach a book? Right in front of you?”
“Oh, certainly.” Amy stepped back and a woman reached passed her, pulling out a copy of the book Amy held.
“Thank you. My sister tells me that this is the best book published in the last year. Of course, she hasn’t read it.” Rachel laughed. “I’ll give her a copy for her birthday.”
They recognized each other at the same time.
“You’re Rachel Noble. I’m…”
“Amy…Barrett. Sorry, I’m terrible with names. You’re Drew Nelson’s friend.”
Amy hesitated. “I do know Drew, yes. I met you about a month ago. His family was with him.”
“That’s right. The two of you bumped into each other, literally.”
Amy shook her head. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” They stood in silence for a moment. “You’re buying the book for Rebecca? We’re in the same book club.”
“Yes, for Rebecca.” Rachel nodded then glanced around the store. “I was going to say that this is the best bookstore in town, but, you know, it’s practically the only bookstore in town, now. It seems as if everyone uses an eReader of some kind.”
“So it seems.” Amy smiled. “Most of the members of our club use them.”
“Well, let me go. I get over to this side of town so infrequently that I came with a list.” She held up an envelope, its back covered with writing. “Children, nieces, nephews to buy for. It’s almost a Noble tradition to be born in March or April. Nice seeing you.” Rachel wandered off.
This side of town? Was that a put-down? Did she know that Amy lived on this side of town?
***
It was three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, with her bookstore purchase in hand, Amy wandered down the street, stopping when she saw the green mermaid on the coffee shop sign. She decided that an iced mocha would be good and went inside.
She placed her order and browsed through the cups, coffee makers, and bags of coffee as she waited.
The barista called out, “Tall, non-fat, extra pump, iced mocha for Amy.”
She took her drink and looked around for a place to sit. All of the tables were taken so she glanced though the window, checking the tables on the patio. They were full too. As she checked one last time, just in case someone was getting ready to leave, she almost jumped when she noticed Drew sitting by the window, papers spread across his table, a pencil in his hand. The only empty chair was at his table.
She hesitated, overthinking, then started toward him. Her legs wobbled as she took the first step, and she reached out a hand to steady herself. Her heart pounded as she paused at the bar, deciding whether to continue. Self-conscious, she actually looked at the man standing beside her to see if he noticed.
After a deep breath, her muscles tense, she walked across the store, weaving between the tables until she stood beside Drew. She waited for him to notice her.
He did not look up. He made a few quick marks on the paper in front of him, moved it to a pile on his left then took a second one from the pile on the right. He sipped his drink, then turned his attention back to the paper.
“Hi.” She waited, again, heart racing still. “Drew?” Her hands were shaking and her mocha sloshed over the side of the cup, splashing one of the papers. He looked at the coffee as it spread across the paper, then he frowned, his eyes cutting up to her.
“Sorry, Drew. Would you mind if I sat here, just for a minute? It’s crowded.” Amy waved her arm around the restaurant.
“There are other ways to attract my attention you know, besides spilling coffee—hot or cold.” He stared at her for a moment. “Sit down. I don’t mind.” As Amy sat, Drew reached for a napkin to soak up the drops, then he turned his eyes back to the paper in front of him.
“Sorry. It really wasn’t intentional…it seems as if I’m always spilling my coffee.” Amy forced a smile as she waited for a response, but Drew seemed not to have heard her. “I enjoyed seeing Lucas the other day. And Jennifer and Sarah. Lucas and Sarah have certainly grown. She is walking now.”
Drew sighed, leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. “What do you want, Amy?” He put down his pencil and shifted his position.
“I just…just wanted to sit. I guess I thought we should make the best of a coincidence like this…maybe just talk.”
Drew didn’t respond. He looked into her eyes, then back at the table. He reached for his drink and his hand shook a little.
“What are you up to? Cathy tells me bits and pieces about what happens at work. There is a rumor that you may retire soon.”
Drew gave a little smile. “I’ve heard the rumor.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Heard it last year. Heard it two years ago.”
“So it’s not true?”
Drew shrugged. “You never know.”
Amy looked out through the window, casting about for something to say. Drew seemed to be studying the ceiling.
“Cathy is excited about the convention, about presenting the paper.”
Drew nodded. “She seems to be. She will do a good job.”
“You aren’t going, I hear.”
Drew did not respond at first. “For hearing bits and pieces, you seem to know quite a lot.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “No, I’m not going.” He moved the papers around the table. “I’m going to the mountains when school is over.”
“To your cabin.” Amy smiled. “You once invited me to come up, to bring my family.”
“The offer…” He looked away as he wiped his eye. “The offer still stands.”
Amy bit her bottom lip. “Drew,” she leaned across the table and placed her hand on his arm, “please talk to me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I want us to be friends.”
“So I passed? I’m not too dangerous a person to be your friend?”
“Drew, I’m so sorry. I…didn’t know about the investigator until I heard about the…the will, and then everything seemed to run together in my mind, and…I’m sorry.” She smiled a little. “You passed.”
“I can be your friend but not your husband.”
Amy swallowed hard. “You never asked me to marry you.”
Drew stared past her, watching the blond barista who reminded him of Di. “I would have.” He looked back at Amy. “You didn’t give me a chance. You told me to leave you alone.”
“Drew, I couldn’t—”
“What couldn’t you do?” He pulled his arm away and she heard anger in his voice. “Couldn’t learn to use a pickle fork? Couldn’t learn to waltz? Couldn’t imagine lying in the sun in the south of France instead of the Isle of Palms?” He sighed. “Foolishness.”
Amy shook her head. He was wrong—it wasn’t foolishness. It was true. She started to look away, but Drew caught her eye.
“What you couldn’t do was imagine that I loved you for yourself, with no ulterior motive.” He paused and his eyes narrowed. “Or was it just that you couldn’t love me?” His pupils dilated as he realized what he had said.
“Drew, love was never a problem. I’ll never fit in…”
He cut her off. “It was the entire problem, wasn’t it? You saw a life, you imagined a life, that was very different from the one you knew, and you cut and ran. I never had a chance.” Drew began to collect his papers. “Ms. Barrett, you are a snob.”
“What?” Amy’s mouth dropped open.
“You can’t love me—you won’t love me—because of where I live, who my family is, and the amount of money I have.”
&
nbsp; “Drew…”
“The other issues—your husband, his will, all of the others—they are simply window dressing.”
“There you are.” Rachel Noble suddenly stood beside the table. She carried a bag of books in one hand and a drink in the other.
“Are you ready to go?” Drew stood.
“There’s no rush.” Rachel looked about for a chair.
“The two of you are here together?” Amy suddenly remembered that Drew might be dating Rachel, and she could feel her face becoming warm.
“Is that a problem?” Drew snapped.
“Uh, no, no, it’s not. Look, I’ll be going. You can have my chair, Rachel.” Amy stood to leave.
“Don’t rush off.” Rachel placed a hand on Amy’s arm.
Drew turned his head away. “Good-bye, Ms. Barrett.”
***
Amy hurried away. Rachel turned to watch her as she pushed through the crowd that had collected at the bar. She bumped into a barista, nearly causing him to spill the thermos of milk he was placing on the counter.
Drew watched her too, but his mind was not on Amy, rather, it was on what he had just said to her. You can’t love me. He had finally put it into words, perhaps just realizing it to be true, perhaps just then being willing to admit that it was true.
She didn’t love him. That is why her protests, her declarations of sorrow always rang false in his ears. Strangely, he realized, instead of causing his world to crash in upon itself, his admission was liberating, as if an anvil had been cut loose from around his neck. For a very brief period, he felt giddy, almost excited.
Rachel turned back to Drew, concern etched on her face. “Did something happen? What was that about? Are you all right?”
“I’m all right, thanks.” Drew reached for his drink. “Amy and I used to…to date.”
Rachel nodded. “I remember.”
Drew simply stared at the stain on the papers.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened, of course, but you know I will find out. You’ve never been able to keep a secret from me.” She smiled. “I have ways of making you talk,” she said, mimicking a character from an old spy movie.
Drew sighed. “Anyone ever accuse you of being an evil, untrustworthy, snob?”
“Not recently.”
“Not ever, and you know it.”
“Okay, not ever. Is that what she did? She called you those names?” She reached across the table and took Drew’s hand.
“Not in those words, exactly, but yes.”
“How could she?”
“You would think that—” He threw his hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. “I give up.” He looked up at Rachel. “She couldn’t love me, could she?”
“And think things like that about you? No way. She doesn’t even know you.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Good thing you were not thinking of marrying her.”
“You’re right.” Drew began to collect his papers. “Good thing I’m not thinking of marrying her. Are you ready to go?”
***
Amy glanced back as she reached her car and saw Rachel holding Drew’s hand.
You can’t love me. That’s what he had said.
She backed the car out of its space, then she laid rubber as she left the parking lot and pushed her way into the traffic on the highway. She was angry. Hit-something-and-make-it-hurt angry, so she did the smart thing. She pulled the car to the side of the road.
“I don’t love him? He doesn’t love me. If he did, he wouldn’t be carrying on with her while he’s leading me to believe he loves me—sitting there, holding her hand.”
Amy held tight to the steering wheel as her anger flooded out. “I’m a snob? He’s the one who believes me to be an object he can simply use for…for…” She paused, thinking. “How is he using me?”
She stared at the dashboard as she searched for an answer. It wasn’t for sex, certainly not for money. Why in the world was he dating her when Rachel was staying at his house, while he took her shopping for jewelry? Amy pounded her hands against the steering wheel. It didn’t make sense—it wasn’t fair.
Book Club
“Mom, what can I do to help?” Cathy stood at the door to the kitchen, watching Amy placing silverware on the table. The forks and spoons lined one edge of the table; plates were stacked on the other side; cups and saucers were in the center.
Amy stepped back, counting. “There are twelve ladies in the book club. All of them say that they are coming.” She sighed. “Twelve of everything.” She checked the coffee pot she had borrowed from a neighbor, glad she had thought of it. If she tried to use her Keurig, people would be standing in line as they would at Starbucks. The pot was full of water, and the ground coffee was in the drip pan. “Wine,” she said, hurrying to the refrigerator to make sure it was chilling.
“I need to move everything to the table in the dining room. I’ll put the cake out too.” She checked the refrigerator again. Strawberries and whipped cream filled two of her mother’s silver bowls.
Cathy picked up the stack of plates. “How about the cups and saucers? Shall I leave them in the kitchen?”
Amy thought for a moment. “Some of the other members have silver coffee urns, and they put the cups out with the dessert, but, yes, leave them in the kitchen.”
Amy placed the forks and spoons on the dining room table, arranged around the cake. She paused as she passed back through the living room, counted the chairs for the sixth time. “I’ll bring four chairs in from the dining room once everyone arrives.” She glanced around. “I wish I had more room, more chairs…”
“Mom, there is plenty of room. No one expects you to have twelve living room chairs.”
“You should see Rebecca Noble’s house.” Amy shook her head. “Even though those houses look small, they have huge rooms. No one else has to pull in straight-back chairs for the meetings.” Amy was about to cry.
“Mom, it’s fine. No one will notice. If they do, they won’t care.”
“I don’t know what got into me. I’ve avoided having the club meet here all year. This is our last meeting until fall. Surely I could have come up with an excuse.” She peeked out through the window. “I hope no one minds parking on the street…I wonder how many will actually show up.”
“Mom, stop. You’re just making yourself sick. Everything is beautiful—the windows shine, the crystal shines, the silver is polished, the flowers are gorgeous. The food will be delicious.”
“Wine glasses…”
“I’ll take care of them. Thirteen of them.”
“Twelve.”
“One for me. You’re so anxious that I need something to calm down.”
A few minutes later, Cathy appeared with two glasses of wine. “Don’t worry. It’s not the wine for the party. It is from another bottle in the refrigerator.”
They sat in silence for a minute. Amy rolled the wine around in the glass, glancing up every few seconds, her eyes darting about to see if there was anything she had missed. “I feel sick.”
“Mom, everything is perfect.” Cathy reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Now, I’ll be here until your meeting starts. Then, I’ll go to my room. Call me when you serve dessert. I’ll come out and help.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I’ll come and help. Besides,” she smiled, “I don’t want the twelve of you to eat all of the cake.”
The doorbell rang, and Amy sprang to her feet.
“Give me your glass, Mom. Now, what did that sign say?” Cathy chuckled. “Oh yeah, be calm and carry on.”
***
By seven o’clock, the living room, kitchen, and dining room were crowded.
“Everyone is here.” Anna Thomas raised her voice to be heard. “Let’s get started. Amy says that you can bring your wine with you.”
Amy carried two chairs in from the dining room, set them down, and then startled as she saw Rebecca Noble move a third chair into the room. Anna carried the fourth. She hadn’t expected tha
t. Hadn’t thought them so…so humble as to pick up a chair and help out.
When everyone was settled, Anna began. “Now, we’ve reached the last chapter. Someone summarize the story for us.”
The lively discussion lasted for an hour and a half, and by nine thirty they had finished dessert and the meeting began to break up. Finally, only Anna remained, insisting that she would not leave Amy and Cathy to clean up by themselves.
When the dishes had been put in the washer and the furniture rearranged in the living room, Cathy excused herself, saying that she had to study. Amy and Anna sat in the kitchen, drinking a last cup of coffee.
“Everyone seemed to have a good time.” Amy hoped it was not obvious she was fishing for a compliment.
“Yes, everyone did seem to enjoy themselves. Rebecca said it was one of the best meetings this year.”
“That was a nice thing for her to say.” Amy hesitated for a moment. “I met a lady the other day named Rachel Noble. She was introduced as Rebecca’s sister. Are they sisters-in-law?”
“No. They are sisters.” Anna laughed. “They married brothers, so they still share a last name. It confuses people all of the time. Their maiden name was Nelson, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that. Are they—”
“Related to Drew? They are. First cousins. Their mother was Drew’s Aunt Emily.”
Amy felt her face becoming warm. “I thought that Drew and Rachel were dating.”
Anna continued as if she had not heard. “Now, the Nobles are related to the Nelsons too. Let me see, what is the connection?” She thought for a moment. “Oh yes. Second cousins once removed. Rebecca’s husband’s grandmother was Rebecca’s grandmother’s niece.” She took a sip of coffee, a look of concentration on her face. “I think that’s right. Anyway, they are just distantly enough related to their husbands to legally marry them.”
“Are all of the old Charleston families related?”
“Oh yes, of course. Until the last couple of generations they tended to intermarry. Charleston was really a small town until the Second World War, you know. And people didn’t travel a lot.”
To Fall in Love Again Page 25