“Annabella,” a strong, groggy voice started.
“Warren, what on earth would possess you to call me here? Can’t you bear the thought of me having a little vacation? A little fun, perhaps?”
“Under normal circumstances, I could care less what you do with your inane life. However, since the matter involves me and my good name, I felt compelled you call you.”
“Warrenton, the only thing you and I have in common is a street name. What matters of mine would ever involve you?”
“Yes, and it was on that very street that you mowed down one of my lovely guests. As it turns out, she is suing the both of us. I need you to return home, so we can begin preparing our defense.”
Annabella was floored. She gasped, clutching the delicate strand of pearls around her frail neck. There must be some mistake. Annabella barely struck the girl and what’s more, she was oh, so kind to her. How could Marigold be suing her? Annabella hung up the phone with Warrenton still on the other end. She was in disbelief, wondering how Warrenton’s perpetual lapse in judgment somehow has her life turned upside down. She felt like suing Warrenton herself. After all, he did trespass on her property to park that asinine vehicle in her driveway. She was as much a victim as Marigold and now she was being punished for having a selfish, dolt of a neighbor.
“What’s wrong, Bella?” Caroline asked, after what seemed like hours of not caring in the least.
“I have to leave,” she told her friend.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“It seems Warrenton’s jezebel would like to get her impoverished paws on my purse strings.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I am so tired of poor people trying to capitalize off the rich. Even when they are successful, they end up squandering it and go right back to being poor. When will they ever learn. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.”
Annabella glared at her clueless friend. Caroline dropped her head.
“I know what you are thinking, but my family is the exception, Bella. We were always meant to be rich and so it was God’s destiny when my father finally made his fortune. You see, it’s not the money, it’s the mentality.”
“Caroline, give it a rest. You are not exactly Warren Buffett. More like you’ve been sitting on your tuffet. In any event, I must leave now. I will see you back home.”
“Don’t you want me to come with you?” Caroline offered.
“No, you stay here and finish what you started with Chad. No sense in both of us ending up without a man.”
“You have a man – just not the one you’ve been dreaming of your whole life. That one does not exist.”
In all of her cluelessness, Caroline failed the friend test miserably. She was supposed to insist upon accompanying her long-time friend back home to fight the fight of her life. Instead, she chose to stay in the lush summer home and frisk about with a man she had just met. Caroline was incredibly selfish and felt she had good reason to be. After all, no one had ever done anything for her. She was young, rich, and, by her standards, beautiful. She had no husband and no obligations. She had finished her schooling and she was sure she was a woman of the world. Ms. Caroline, as she often liked to refer to herself, could do whatever she pleased. And today, it pleased her that she was going to see Chad again. She was fascinated at his ethnic makeup and wondered what life was like for him. She knew he was a Negro, but he certainly did not look it. She wondered if he liked being who he was and if being rich made life easier for him as a Black man in America. She looked forward to seeing him so that she could ask him all of those questions. She also wondered what he was like romantically. She was unable to ascertain that information on their previous date because he was a perfect gentleman – almost too perfect for Caroline’s taste. She wondered if she was his type at all. Maybe he was not attracted to White girls. With all his money, he had better damned-well get used to them, she thought, because that was mostly what he would attract. Caroline giggled in the mirror as she got dressed to go meet him on the golf course. She knew nothing of the sport and hoped he was just as much a neophyte. She didn’t mind embarrassing herself playing the sport, but she did not want to bore him and cause him to think she was uncouth. The only thing she knew she could do well was something he did not seem interested in at the time. She hoped at some point she could seduce him and make him forget all about her other deficiencies.
Caroline was used to getting attention, but not the kind that she was garnering as she strutted onto the greens. The local ladies snickered as she arrived in a tennis dress and dock shoes. Chad looked around as if he was assessing who exactly witnessed the fashion fiasco. He then pulled her to the side and whispered into her ear the faux pas. She turned Roma, but tried not to show her embarrassment. She did not want to perform the walk of shame and pass the same girls who thought her get-up was outlandish. She asked Chad if he would go with her to buy an appropriate outfit. He happily obliged. Chad wrapped his strong, bronzed arm around her neck and looked down into her eyes. She felt her face cool down and they walked slowly, as if on a date. Caroline felt safe and, for once, saw Chad as a simply as a gentleman, free of race. Still, she wondered what it was like for him being a Black man in what she considered a White man’s world. She did not resist the urge to inquire.
“I hope you don’t find me a bit inquisitive. It’s just that I have not had the pleasure of interacting with Blacks in such an intimate setting. Tell me, what is it like being Black?”
“I cannot answer that because I don’t know anything else, Caroline. I mean, it would be like me asking you what it’s like to be woman. Have you ever been a man? What would you compare it to?”
“Do you ever feel like you are less than anyone else?” she pressed.
“No, I have never felt like that. I can trace my family tree further back than the history of the United States. I and all of my ancestors have known nothing but freedom. I am not blind to the plight of African Americans in this country, but I have never been affected by it. I enjoy great wealth, good friends, and a leisurely lifestyle. Each generation stood on the shoulders of the generation before them. We made it the way anyone else made it – with hard work and honesty. Above all, we treated everyone as if they were human. Now, let’s find you something appropriate to wear. By tomorrow, you will be the hit of the golf course.”
Chapter Six
“I will be damned! I will just be damned!” Annabella screamed.
Annabella’s outburst had long been in the making. What started out as sheer apathy and utter boredom turned into extreme discomfort and severe discontentment. Warrenton’s attorney was not the only hot air in the room. The brick building, which housed his office, was a virtual oven where the air conditioning either did not work at all or was no match for the sweltering southern heat. Annabella tried desperately to cool herself with her lace fan – no proper Southern woman would be caught without one – but it was to no avail. She was a pink as a prized pig and the frilly fan was doing nothing more than delivering more heat. The cold glass of ice water she was given had turned into a cool puddle on the antique wooden table. From the numerous water stains embedded in the table, it was apparent to Annabella that the problem was not a new one. She tried desperately to act cordially and remain alert in the meeting, but the conditions were not suitable for optimum alertness. She tried to think pleasant thoughts, but often found herself staring at Warrenton. He was a devilishly-handsome man. He had a strong brow, thick blond eyebrows, and a perfectly square jaw. His hair was thick and shiny and he had absolutely immaculate teeth. Annabella reminisced about the handful of times she felt his strong embrace. Usually it was when he had no one else to turn to, but it was a strong hug nonetheless. Warrenton was fickle and he could easily turn his emotions on and off. Annabella treasured the few times he wrapped his hulking arms around her frail back and hugged her, practically lifting her off the ground. At six feet tall, Warrenton was not exceptionally tall, but to a tiny woman like Annabella, he may as well have been Paul Bunyan
. But alas, as quickly as he gave his affections to her, he abruptly took them away. Usually, Warrenton found his solace in Annabella when he was having a difficult time coping. Annabella could always tell when Warrenton was going through something because he would immediately seek her out. Many a night Warrenton ended up outside of Annabella’s window, trying to garner her attention. As a teenager, she often responded amicably, letting her guard down and allowing Warrenton inside her heart. But, soon she learned that he was just using her as an emotional segue from one mindless girl to the next. Later, she rationalized her role as one of providing her friend and neighbor with the only healthy love he will ever receive. In that respect, she was able to function as the pale, boney shoulder on which he could lean. Through it all, though, she developed an unhealthy love for him that stemmed from his need to be nurtured and her need to be needed. She was never able to connect emotionally with anyone else because her heart was all tangled up in Warrenton’s web of uncertainty and insecurity. Although he certainly sewed his wild oats, Annabella was sure he was just as tangled up in her emotionally as she was in him. Although she had never known the pleasures of the flesh, she somehow found satisfaction in the unhealthy attachment to Warrenton. She knew her fantasies about the dashing playboy were just that – fantasies – but she didn’t care. She had never really pinned her hopes and dreams on a life with him. She wished things were different between them, but she dared not believe for a moment that they could be. What Annabella wanted was all but unattainable. The man of her dreams, as Caroline suggested, probably did not even exist. For as handsome as Warrenton was, he did not nearly fit all of the qualifications Annabella sought in a man. Warrenton was an empty shell. All of his money and looks could not buy him a soul. Annabella could do without a lot of things, but a man with a soul was not one of them. They were too different and she was cognizant enough to realize that Warrenton was not the right man for her. She was lonely, but she was no desperate fool.
Annabella snapped out of her daydream just long enough to be insulted for the last time. Annabella was fed up with Warrenton’s attorney and it was apparent to everyone in the room with her uncharacteristic outburst and language. It was clear to her that the stuffed shirt of a man was there for the sole purpose of protecting his family’s wealth. And with Warren’s father’s failing health, it was just a matter of time before Warren would be the heir to the Boatwright fortune. No doubt, he would squander it all on cheap women and shoddy investments, but it would be his for the squandering and he wanted every penny of it to be intact for that sole purpose. Annabella knew that if she did not hire her own attorney, she would surely end up in prison with the likes of women who rival men in terms of facial hair and testosterone levels. She had stomached Warrenton’s bloated, eel of a lawyer, with his cheap cologne that barely masked the Polish Sausage smell that emanated from his pores. It was apparent that he was a hopeless alcoholic and judging by the way his stomach protruded his belt line, he was storing some for future use. With each use of the word “litigious”, the breathable air in the room served as his personal spittoon. His voice was raspy, his words often incoherent. Annabella was not sure if Warrenton was aware that he was being represented by none other than Yosemite Sam. It was of no consequence, however, to Annabella. She was intent on procuring her own representation, and hopefully someone who did not smell like a Jewish deli.
After her very unladylike outburst, Annabella composed herself and very graciously excused herself. Normally, she would have been embarrassed beyond measure, but this particular day she simply did not care. She had conceded to leave those two pigs to their conniving ways. She was going to enlist the finest help her daddy’s money could buy. When she returned home, Hattie was there waiting for her as if she knew what Annabella was going through. She gently stroked the girl’s corn-blonde hair and Annabella soon dropped her heavy head on Hattie’s shoulder.
“It’s just awful. It’s just terrible, Hattie. How did my life become some complicated?”
“God is just preparing you for the next chapter in your life, Sweetie. Difficulties build character, Anna. You will come out of this much better than you were before. Stay strong, my child.”
“But Warrenton’s attorney is going to get us railroaded to the big house! He is so incompetent!”
“Don’t you worry, Angel Face. I have someone in mind for you. She comes highly recommended. And I guarantee you one thing – she is going to shake things up. Those boys ain’t gonna know what hit them. I will call Ms. Mary Jane De Bergerac. She’s Gloria Allred in stilettos.”
Annabella smiled a little. Hattie always knew how to make her feel better. Her own mother did not comfort her the way Hattie did. For starters, her mother’s shoulder was too boney to rest a weary head. Secondly, Annabella never felt compelled to confide in her mother. She felt that was why she had Hattie. Hattie’s job was to love Annabella. A job, Annabella was sure, Hattie would do it for free. She gave her trusted friend and deep, meaningful hug and retired to her quarters. Annabella wanted to forget the day’s events and just go to sleep. She tried to forget how she got into this mess in the first place, but each time she remembered that it was Warrenton who vandalized her family’s property with that pimple of a car, she got flustered all over again. Warrenton was the bane of her existence. He had been her childhood friend and lifelong neighbor. She had watched him parade hundreds of slinky women through their exclusive neighborhood. She had put up with his menacing ways for as long as she could remember. But that was about to end. In that moment, Annabella had decided that she had all she could take of Warrenton. Once the lawsuit was settled, she was leaving. She did not know where she was going, but she was sure that she was leaving the sweet, southern town she loved. She did not want to leave her home, her family, but she could not stand to be near Warrenton another minute. What she was even more sure of was that he was going nowhere. He planned to live out his days as a perpetual bachelor, sucking his parents’ estate dry and using up women and discarding them like facial tissue. Annabella was tired of his disgusting ways and she was not going to put up with it another minute. Since Warrenton refused to grow up, she was going to have to get as far away from him as possible. She often reflected on her school days in Mother England and she was sure that, like Princess Kate, she could find her prince in such an enchanted place. She was certain it was not too late for her. After all, she was unspoiled. She was positive that some man would find her a great catch. What’s more, all the values that she holds dear would be more than becoming of a princess. Annabella was convinced that the life she coveted was thousands of miles away from the thickening heat and loose morals of southern town turned dreadfully secular. Annabella closed her eyes and imagined herself living a charmed, royal life in England with her dashing groom.
Chapter Seven
Eudora gently touched the dandelions with her left hand as she kneeled down. She then looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes with her right hand. She so enjoyed the summer, unlike her daughter. She was now more than 50% gray and she could care less. She was sure she would never have to be attractive for her husband again and she was fine with it. She had spent most of her adult life being the perfect with to a Methodist minister and for the first time in her life, she was free to be who she was. She was not without her forgetful moments, but she was not nearly as demented as her family believed. She remembered very vividly the day that her husband dropped her off at the posh medical facility. Most people had to wait years, but because her husband was rich and highly revered in the community, they immediately made room for her. It was a bittersweet time for her. In one respect, she was angry with him for basically abandoning her there. But, in another respect, she was relieved. All the years of putting on airs for her husband’s constituents, she was finally free to wear what she wanted, say what she wanted and do what she wanted. She would miss Annabella, but she knew her daughter would be well-taken care of. She trusted Hattie like a second mother to Annabella, so Eudora took the opportunity t
o live out her twilight years in peace. After the first year, her husband visited less and less. Soon, she realized he would never come back for her. So, she stopped trying to convince everyone that she was well enough to go home. She just retreated to the condition in which they hoped and thought she was. She settled into life in the facility and she was content. She never wanted for a thing. It was the best confinement money could buy. Once a week, she had to report to the on-site psychiatrist. Other than that, she was free to do whatever she wanted. She spent most of her days walking around the grounds. She loved nature and the summer was particularly beautiful. The most amazing colors could be seen from great distances and she never passed up the opportunity to walk the perimeter of the property to take in the full view. Today was an especially pleasant day, although she was unsure why. She just felt in really good spirits and everything seemed to be going her way. She was feeling bright, alert, and energetic. She thought about her family and what it would be like to go home. She knew she was well enough, but she was sure that they didn’t want her there. Once people make up their mind that you are sick, especially mentally, there is little you can do, besides earn a PhD in Physics, to prove otherwise. So, she kept quiet and enjoyed her life free of obligation. She knew that her husband remaining married to her was an act of mercy, for surely he could have divorced her and left her there. But, being the religious man he was, he did not want to have his name tarnished with the reputation of divorcing his sick wife. Besides, Annabella would never forgive him if he did such a thing. So, Eudora stayed there and pretended to be the frail woman that everyone obviously wanted her to be. She had the occasional visitors - from church members to family members. But, her husband no longer visited. She wasn’t sure if he could not bear the thought of seeing her like that or if he had taken up with another woman and simply could not face her. She did not care one way or the other. She had learned to function without seeing him, so if he ever did decide to show up, it might set her back in terms of emotional healing.
An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel Page 3