Till Death Do Us Part

by E. Jamie

  "Nobody will care about that, Sara, honestly,” Victoria said, exasperated.

  "I care! Change the color. I don't care to what—yellow, blue, hell black would be more appropriate!"

  "Fine, very well.” Victoria closed the box with an exasperated sigh. “We'll see what we can do about the color. Now would you please go upstairs and make yourself presentable. Steven is coming over for dinner. We must plan your engagement party.” Victoria turned on her heel.

  "Wonderful,” Sara groaned.

  * * * *

  Sara hated lamb. She pushed the meat around her plate, and the conversation droned on around her.

  "What do you think, darling?” Steven's voice penetrated her thoughts.

  "What?” Sara asked, startled, not having heard him.

  "We'll have the wedding here in the garden."

  Sara's mind drifted back to the gazebo at the end of the garden path where Connor had first kissed her. She closed her eyes against pain stabbing in her heart, and she rubbed the spot over her breast through her white sleeveless blouse. “Whatever."

  "And lilies. I know you like those. We'll use them for the decorations."

  Sara's head pounded. Her bouquet had been of lilies when she married Connor. “No lilies."

  Steven shrugged.

  "Now about the engagement party. It will be late in the spring. This horrid winter will be well over by then so it will be the perfect time to announce this new beginning for our family. Don't you agree, Sara? We'll have it here, of course. You can invite your friends if you'd like,” Victoria said with a smug smile.

  "You mean Aaron and the guys?” Sara asked raising an eyebrow.

  "Of course.” She nodded.

  "Of course. So you can gloat, right? Shove it in their faces that I'm marrying Steven,” Sara said with disgust.

  "Well, I was just trying to be generous. If you'd rather not have them here—"

  "No, I want them here. There's no other way I'll be able to stomach any of it."

  "Sara,” her father said, placing his fork down next to his plate, ready to scold her, but Steven stepped in.

  "All she needs is a change of scenery. Once we're married, we'll find a nice house in the city. Would you like that, darling?” Steven put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder.

  Sara dug the heel of her beige shoe into the carpet. If he called her “darling” one more time, she promised herself she'd deck him.

  "I think we should be discussing more important matters right now. We should bring Nanny Atkins back,” Roger said.

  She glared at him. “Excuse me?” Her fork hit her plate with a loud clang. “I am going to be raising my child, not Nanny Atkins."

  "I thought you liked Nanny Atkins,” her mother said, fingering the strand of amethysts at her neck.

  "I loved Nanny Atkins. For the first ten years of my life, I called her ‘mommy’ because she was the only adult I ever saw,” Sara pointed out.

  "We also need to look into that boarding school in France,” Roger said moving on.

  "My child isn't even walking yet, and you already want to ship him off, don't you?” Sara pushed her chair back and stood up. She threw her napkin down, walked out of the stifling dining room onto the balcony off the living room, and gulped in great bursts of the night air. She could see the outline of the water fountain surrounded by lush greenery where she used to toss in pennies and make wishes ... when she still believed wishes could come true.

  "I think you're being completely unreasonable,” Steven said, coming out onto the balcony a minute later.

  "I could care less what you think.” Sara scowled, boiling inside with anger. What did he even care who took care of Nathan? When he visited her, he barely gave the boy a second glance and spent most of his time chatting with Roger discussing one sort of business or another.

  "Sara.” He reached out to touch her arm. She jerked away from him. “People of our class expect us to act a certain way. How is it going to look if you can't keep all your social engagements because you have to stay home with the child?"

  "Steven, listen to me. I will be your trophy wife to show off to all the big boys. I will even share your bed because my vows tell me I should, but my child is my responsibility. Don't ever presume to tell me how to raise him,” Sara snapped.

  * * * *

  A few weeks before the engagement party, Aaron arrived at the house with their friends all with their, invitations in hand, and identical looks of horror on their faces. “Tell me you're not marrying Sodomy!” he pleaded, using his and Connor's secret nickname for the man who was now her fiancé.

  "Aaron, don't start. Please!” Sara pleaded.

  On and on he went, pleading, begging her not to make the biggest mistake of her life. He kept going at it only stopping so that Marty, Jason, and Kevin could take up where Aaron left off.

  "But you don't love him,” Jason pointed out with wide blue eyes and tousled sandy-brown hair.

  At seventeen, he was the youngest of their group of friends, but he'd never looked as young to her as he did in that moment. He still believed in happily ever after. “Jason, the only man I'll ever love is dead. Why should I punish my child because its father is dead? My child will lack for nothing. Now if you're all my friends, you'll be there for me and will help me get through that ridiculous evening and not mention another word about Connor, please. Look at it this way. I'm just glad I know about this engagement party,” Sara said with a bitter laugh.

  The first time she had been informed of her family's intentions toward her about Steven Sondheim was at her eighteenth birthday party. What she thought was just a birthday party turned out to be her own engagement party except that her parents hadn't seen fit to clue her in on that fact. That had been the first night she met Connor. That was also the night Connor first kissed her. From that second, she couldn't imagine loving anyone else.

  Her mother came out to the backyard where Sara had taken her friends so they could talk privately. “Sara, darling, Steven is wondering where you are."

  "Tell him I jumped into the fountain and drowned myself.” Sara smiled with feigned sweetness at her mother.

  .Victoria threw her hands up in disgust and walked back into the house.

  "Sara? Darling, where are you?” Steven's voice drifted out toward them.

  "Oh shit. Here comes Sodomy,” Marty groaned.

  Steven placed a blatantly possessive arm around Sara.

  Aaron rolled his eyes, and Jason stuck his tongue out behind Steven's head.

  "I'm glad you all could come,” Steven said smiling, his eyes shooting daggers at Kevin and Marty. “I know it's important to Sara that you're at the engagement party at least since you won't be at the wedding."

  Sara stiffened. “Excuse me?"

  "Well, darling, of course you understand how inappropriate it would be to have his friends at our wedding,” Steven said, his voice taking on a sharp edge.

  "They are my friends. How dare you tell me who I can and can't invite to this fucking farce!” Sara exploded. She feared she'd kill him on the spot if she didn't get away from him that second. She pushed past the men and stormed back into the house, leaving them all staring after her.

  * * * *

  The night of the engagement party Sara made only the most perfunctory of appearances and then hid in the library for most of the night, feeling the numbness around her begin to slip, stifled by all the pretentiousness of her parents’ friends. Even having Aaron there didn't help. The longer she stayed among them all the more she felt as if she were about to crack and shatter, and this time not even Aaron would be able to put her back together. So for her own sanity, she stayed in the library alone with the door closed until the party was over. When she finally heard the front door close for the last time, she got up from the chair by the fireplace and braced herself for the explosion she knew was coming.

  "You stupid, stupid little girl! How could you insult your guests that way?” Victoria slammed the library door so hard i
t shook.

  "They weren't my guests, Mother. They were your guests. I don't know any of their names. Besides I'm sure all the champagne and caviar they were stuffing their faces with eased any hurt feelings they may have had.” Sara looked away from her mother.

  "Are you trying to embarrass Steven? Is that what this is all about? Your idiot of a husband went and got himself blown up, not before knocking you up of course, and now you want the rest of us to pay for it.” Victoria sneered.

  Sara took a step closer to her “If you say another word about Connor so help me God mother I will hit you!” she vowed, rage boiling through her veins. She could feel it coming. The anger she had tried to stifle at her situation was coming to the surface, and she was no longer in any control to stop it.

  "This is his fault. From the moment I saw him look at you, I knew that boy would be the ruin of this family. Look at what he taught you! You were always a sweet, innocent little girl. He taught you to be rebellious, to be a liar!” her mother said in disgust.

  "Oh yes, Mother. Connor taught me many things! Things that would make your little narrow-minded, aristocratic head spin. Why, have you ever fucked in the rain, Mommy Dearest?” Sara asked, grinning.

  "Shut your filthy mouth!” Victoria said trembling, her red lips tight.

  "You should try it sometime. It's really quite refreshing. Suggest it to one of your lovers. Why you must have one in each state by now right? Have you ever felt a man lose control inside of you, Mother, and know that it was because of you and not the size of your bank account?” Sara asked. “What's the matter, Mommy? Getting a little hot under the collar? Did you ever feel that way about Daddy? Even once? Did he ever make you feel like all he had to do was touch you and you'd catch fire? Oh no wait! I forgot Daddy doesn't give you orgasms. His checkbook does!"

  And with that, Victoria Hawthorne slapped Sara hard across the face for the first time ever.

  For a second, Sara was dizzy, and she grabbed the edge of the chair but she regained her balance and smiled at her mother. “I feel so sorry for you, Mother. I've had two glorious years with a man that will make every disgusting year I spend with Steven worth it. What do you have?"

  * * * *

  I've got to be the only bride in history who gets nauseated at the idea of marrying her groom, Sara thought to herself and groaned as she stared out the window. She fought off making comparisons between this farce and her wedding to Connor. The wedding planner and her mother chatted around her, and at times, Sara found it very easy to tune them out. She looked down at the massive folders and fabric samples spread out on the table in the dining room. A spur-of-the-moment plane ride to Ireland with a handful of guests had brought her so much more joy than a wedding that would make Today's Bride magazine applaud. “Excuse me,” she whispered, stood up, and rushed out of the den, needing to get some air. She stood in the backyard, taking in great clear gulps until her panicked heart slowed down to a regular beat again.

  Looking down, she noticed her wedding band was still on her finger, an elegant platinum gold band with a small leaf design. A tiny diamond dotted the end of each leaf. Connor said he had it made because it reminded him of the greenery surrounding them when they first kissed. She slipped it off and undid the clasp of her necklace that held Connor's wedding band around her neck. She slipped hers down to dangle alongside it and fixed the necklace back around her neck.

  Sara turned back to the open doorway at the sound of the doorbell from the front of the house.

  Aaron came running up toward her, and she watched him shake off Victoria's grasp before he grabbed Sara's arm. “I'm begging you, Sara. Don't do this! Give me five minutes, please."

  "What on earth is wrong with you? We are in the middle of planning Sara and Steven's wedding, and you were not invited,” Victoria informed him. “Now get out before I have you arrested."

  Aaron ignored her. “What do you say? Five minutes?"

  She nodded, relieved to put the planning off.

  "Sara, what are you doing?” Roger demanded, furious as he came up behind her mother. She ignored her father and walked across the backyard with her friend.

  "Why did you do this, Aaron?” Sara asked him once he closed the door behind him.

  "Leave with me, Sara. Now. Let's take off before it's too late. You don't have to marry him, Sara. I can't let you."

  Sara arched an eyebrow. “You can't let me?"

  "I'm sorry, but all I keep seeing is your little boy dressed in a ridiculous suit and tie going off to some butt-hole prep school, a carbon copy of Sodomy. Is that what you want?” Aaron's words were rushed in a desperate attempt to get her to see his point.

  Sara began to tremble. She was seeing it. Oh God, she was seeing it. Her son, they'd turn him into what they wanted, and she'd be powerless to stop it. She threw her arms around Aaron, terrified. “Oh God, Aaron,” she cried, shaking in his arms.

  "I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, sweetie. The choice is yours.” He stepped back and extended his hand out to her, waiting.

  Sara gratefully slipped her hand into his, and they walked out of the house through the front exit to where Jason, Kevin, and Marty sat waiting in Aaron's car. They cheered when they saw that Sara was with him.

  "You were so sure I'd come with you?” Sara asked.

  Aaron just smiled.

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  Chapter Five

  Sara opened her eyes and smiled. After six months, there were no more haunting dreams. Maybe it was this house. Aaron's house. Its effect on her was calming, and Aaron had been so wonderful to her. He insisted she could go on living there as long as she pleased, but Sara couldn't help feeling a bit guilty. She couldn't sponge off her friend for much longer. She had no other direction to turn though. Thank goodness, her parents didn't know about Aaron's house in Boston so the past few months had been blissfully uneventful.

  Still, they couldn't go on forever. What would she do? How would she raise Connor's child alone? Sara shivered and burrowed deep under the warm covers. It was snowing outside. Aaron had gone tobogganing with his brother, Jimmy, and their father. Coming from Florida, to her the snow was still a novelty, even after spending a year in London because of her father's business. Sara told herself she should get out there and experience it, but she couldn't make herself leave the comfort of the bed.

  Jessica, Aaron's mother, was coming by later, and they'd have supper together. Sara was a bit daunted by the task, having never actually planned a dinner herself, but Jessica promised to help her by coming a few hours early to help her get it started. Sara stayed at home most of the time, not really eager to face anybody.

  Aaron drew the line at missing out on get-togethers with the guys. He knew they were good company for her.

  Her life settled into a calm routine that she had been pleased with, but now she was getting antsy. She wanted a focus, a plan, and she had none. Sara popped up in her bed. Wait a minute. She'd once had a direction she wanted her life to take. She had just abandoned the idea because without Connor, nothing held any interest for her. When that deepest part of her died she thought all her dreams had died along with him. Fashion, she remembered. That had been her dream. Sara smiled again. It still was.

  * * * *

  At lunch, she couldn't contain her excitement as she spoke about her plan to design clothes. “I just need to get a few outfits out to show around see if I can get a distributor. I have one problem though, a big one.” She set her fork down on a napkin and bit her lip, and she looked at Jessica. “I need seamstresses,” Sara told her.

  Jessica's brown eyes lit up like the Christmas tree in the living room. “Oh let me sew your clothes! Oh my goodness, that would be so exciting!"

  "Are you sure you wouldn't mind? You can bring in a helper if you can't handle it,” Sara offered, feeling her heart begin to pound at the idea that was fast becoming a reality now. She picked her glass up off the black tabletop and took a long drink of her orange juice.

  "You kno
w what? I know Maggie, Kevin's wife, is great with a needle and thread. Ask her,” Aaron suggested drinking his beer.

  Sara grinned, an ecstatic thrill shooting through her.

  Aaron smiled with her.

  * * * *

  Sarah was getting ready for dinner when she heard the sound of the water from the bathroom being turned off, signaling the end of Aaron's shower. She went to him, intending to knock and ask him to hand her the hairbrush she'd left in there that morning.

  He came out with a yellow towel wrapped around his waist, which surprised her.

  Sara felt a tightening in her chest and a flutter of ... something as she gazed at his broad, muscled chest. Not desire. That's just stupid. He was Aaron. A good-looking guy, sure. But she didn't think of him like that. Her body strongly disagreed though, and she was shocked by the rush of arousal. Even more so when she lowered her gaze and saw that she wasn't the only one having thoughts of much more than friendship. She forced herself to look away, but he'd caught her, and out of the corner of her eye, Sara saw his cheeks go pink.

  "I ... um...” she stammered, nervous, her mouth dry. “I need...” You to touch me. The thought came with a rush of horrified guilt, and Sara turned on her heel and ran back to her bedroom. How could she even imagine thinking that way about him? She loved Connor.

  Connor's dead, a small voice reminded her.

  He's Connor's best friend!

  Connor's dead, the voice repeated.

  She guessed she must have embarrassed him because Aaron didn't come to see if she was al right.

  * * * *

  After dinner, Sara noticed Aaron had gotten quiet, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts. She said good-bye to his family and walked into the open archway between the living room and the kitchen.

  "Don't move,” Aaron whispered.

  Sara froze in place. “What? Is there a bug on my shoulder or something?” She watched him come closer until she could feel his breath on her face. Odd ... She didn't feel like moving back. His breath was warm. It felt nice. It smelled of the lasagna they had just eaten.