“Okay,” she said slowly. “But…” She hesitated. She would never want to appear ungrateful.
“But what, my darling?” He asked.
“I was just hoping to spend some time with the kids before we leave and maybe have some dinner…” Her voice trailed off again.
“Don’t worry. You will be ready in under an hour. And I have a surprise planned for when you come downstairs.” He stepped out, toweled off, and helped Isabella do the same.
It was just as he promised. Isabella was ready in thirty-five minutes. Apparently, that was what happened when three people worked on an individual at one time. I’ll never get used to this, Isabella thought to herself. As she exited the bedroom after thanking the stylist profusely, she wandered down the stairs to the great hall. Halfway down, her jaw dropped. Gabriel, always the first to notice her, met her on the stairs, and offered her an arm as they continued to make their way to the main floor. She could feel her eyes tearing up, so she fanned her face in a desperate attempt to keep from ruining her makeup.
In the great hall were all the old familiar guests. Gabriel had invited everyone in their life to share in her special night. A full blown cocktail party was taking place, complete with hors d’oeuvres, wait staff, and a fully manned bar. Jessie walked over to greet her. “I swear I’m afraid to touch you. You look like you walked out of a magazine.”
“Stop,” Isabella said, blushing. “I just can’t believe he did this for me.”
“Why not?” Jessie asked seriously. “When are you going to accept that this man loves you and will do everything in his power to make you happy?” She shook her head as she and Isabella walked around with their arms looped.
She sighed. “I know. I’m just so blessed. And nervous.” She glanced around the room. “This is a whole lot of people to fail in front of,” Isabella admitted quietly. “I was kind of hoping it would be only a few close friends. What if no one shows up at the gallery? What if I get terrible reviews? What if no one likes my work?”
Jessie frowned at her. “How do you not know how talented you are? How do you not realize that none of us are here to judge you? Where did that confident woman go? I really liked her. I saw her emerging over the last few months, but tonight…” Her voice trailed off. “I believe in you. Gabriel believes in you. Nothing else matters.”
And Isabella knew Jessie was right, even if there were still some lingering doubts.
She sat quietly during the drive, staring out at the passing cityscape. Cars and lights passed by in a flash. A group of them were riding together in the limo. Normally, Isabella would be caught up in the conversation, but tonight, she felt apart from it. She tried to envision the reaction of the public to her work. She knew why she was so concerned. This gallery show wasn’t just her work; it was far more personal than that. She was sharing the culmination of her hopes and dreams with the world. She was sharing her life, her love, and her passions. Her palms were sweating seemingly uncontrollably. She wiped them frequently on her lap.
Gabriel noticed and reached out to her. “I don’t know what you are worried about. You are amazing. I’m sure your work is incredible, even though you wouldn’t let me see it.” He shot a glance her way.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. It is just so strange. It is our story, you know?”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand affectionately.
They pulled up to the curb in front of the gallery and walked up the dilapidated sidewalk together. Just inside the door they reached the hallway and Gabriel was greeted by the owner. “A friend?” She asked.
“No. In fact, I’m surprised he remembers me. I have only been here a few times. The last time was over a year ago. I was picking up a piece for my father.” He recalled the visit. “Oh, that’s right. I bet he remembers me because I helped him out.”
“Of course you did, darling,” Isabella smiled, imagining his heroics.
Knowing what she might be envisioning, he explained. “It was no big deal. A woman called to set up a gallery show and I had to translate for them…” His voice trailed off as a startling realization emerged. He looked at her with a smile. Isabella, too, seemed pensive as she bit her lip to contain her grin. This was the place where they began. They looked at each other. Isabella smiled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I hope so,” he smiled back, squeezing her hand. He drew her close and whispered in her ear. “I think that cinches it, Bella. We were meant to be.”
She sighed contentedly and nodded.
The room filled with people, many she knew, many more that were unfamiliar. The owner had asked that she introduce herself to the room. And although she knew this in advance, she still wasn’t certain of what she would say.
The owner gathered all the guests in the largest open area of the gallery. Gabriel had given her a last minute pep talk. “Don’t be afraid to speak out. You can talk very quietly sometimes when you are nervous. Don’t forget to make eye contact and draw them in. Don’t worry if you can‘t think of what to say...”
He had prepared to continue, but Isabella interrupted. “Okay, you have to stop now. You are actually making me nervous. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might have nothing to say and now I’m afraid of what terrible idea you might put into my head next.” She offered a weak smile.
“Sorry, Bella.” He bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right here.”
The owner motioned for her to stand by his side. Here, he presented her to the room and asked her to say a few words. She looked to Gabriel for a moment and took a deep breath. Slowly, she began. “Once upon a very recent time I thought my life was over. I could see no future; I had lost my passion for life and photography.” She spoke effortlessly, as though she had a planned and practiced speech.
They all seemed to be paying attention. Actually, they all seemed enthralled. Who wouldn’t be? “So, while you are all here to study what is on display, please indulge me for a moment as I tell you a story,” she continued calmly. “And as you walk around the room, I hope you will see this story in the pictures lining the walls.” She wove a magical tale. The hero just happened to be a foreign royal, tall, sandy blond, and handsome. The heroine was a wronged woman with a pure heart, not perfect, except for in his eyes. There were amazing settings, trips around the globe, an endless cash flow, and several villains, each worst than the last.
The audience smiled in all the right places. The women dabbed at their eyes and clutched at their chests when the heroine had her heart broken. They leaned in, hanging on her every word when the would-be princess, a commoner, ran from the prince and his web of lies. A few applauded when they reunited after weeks apart. And at least one woman sighed happily during the description of the proposal and wedding. Isabella knew exactly how she felt. She was almost home-free.
“I would love to end this tale in the nature of all fairy tales, with ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ That wouldn’t be accurate.” She paused for a breath, and a bit of drama. Gabriel straightened. Other guests leaned forward intently; unsure of what to expect, what twist might evolve. Isabella exhaled slowly, nervously. “You see, happy cannot adequately describe their lives. No words sufficiently describe how euphoric they were. So pure was their love, so devoted were they to each other that many would look upon them and wonder where one ended and the other began. No, they didn’t live happily ever after, they lived happily every day.” She stood there for a moment to gaze upon their faces, watch as they broke into smiles, relieved that their belief in fairy tales had been once again reaffirmed. “So, please, stroll through the gallery, and enjoy the photographs.”
A moment later she moved from the podium to stand once again at Gabriel‘s side. After all this time, she knew for certain that was where she belonged. Gabriel leaned over and whispered, “Beautifully done,” in her ears. He massaged her tense shoulders lovingly. Isabella watched as the guests looked at them, watched as they realized how much Gabriel resembled the hero, how the ring Isabella could
n’t stop touching appeared to be identical to the one in the tale. A few smiled. Others nodded. All of the guests moved to stroll through the rooms, staring at the walls with a new understanding of the works mounted on the walls before them.
Isabella watched as critics walked around taking notes, as photographs were sold, as wait staff circulated with hors d’oeuvres and drinks, as guests chattered animatedly. She watched as she herself was watched. And at long last she believed that she had seen this as through as she needed to. She tugged on Gabriel’s sleeve.
“Yes, Bella, my love,” he said wrapping an arm around her.
“Let’s go,” she said simply.
“Don’t you want to see how it turns out?” He asked confused.
She shrugged. “Not really.” She saw the surprise on his face and explained. “I thought this was so important.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her finger lightly against his lips. “This is nice. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll be thrilled if the show is successful. The money will be nice. I don’t like relying on you.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “That’s not what’s important about this evening.”
He moved her finger away and planted a kiss on her lips. “So, what is important?”
Her face radiated pure calm. “I found out I am capable of putting together a show. I have a new found confidence in my abilities. And, most importantly, I have you no matter what.”
“You’re right,” Gabriel admitted. “So, I’ll get your wrap.”
Isabella spent a few moments saying her goodbyes, thanking her friends for coming, and finalizing arrangements with the gallery owner. Gabriel came up behind her and lovingly draped the wrap around her shoulders. And together they departed eager to return hand-in-hand to their magical kingdom.
For Lindsay Blalock…thank you for indulging my crazy, for joining me in this new venture, for listening to my rants, for being my light in my storms. I couldn’t have survived these last five years without your soothing ways, your awesomesauce, and now especially…
Awesome Possum Formatting
XOXO!
Theirs was not the happiest of marriages. Feelings through the years had ranged from love, to one-sided love, to hate, then on to tolerance and they were now squarely settled into a comfortable indifference. They had sex, not in the heat of passion or the throes of desire so much as in the manner one might try to scratch an itch. For them it was the fulfillment of a very human very natural need. At the beginning of their relationship, which is not to say at the beginning of their marriage, which came two full years later, they would sleep together all in a tangle like puppies in a pile. They had to constantly touch each other. Now a scaled version of the Grand Canyon could fit between them in their Queen sized bed. Sarah used to stay up waiting, even if it took half the night, for Josh to return from work so that they could go to bed together. More often than not, the only home fire left blazing for his return now was the hall light. In short, to say that they had grown apart over the last seven years would be a gross understatement.
That is, perhaps, why Sarah was so surprised when upon leaving the old farmhouse for work one morning, she glanced into Josh’s black Mustang convertible and saw the pink striped gift bag. She threw the tote bag she had been carrying into the back seat of her silver Xterra and giddily turned to open his car door. The bag was on the floor of the back seat, not really hidden from view, but not drawing attention to itself either. Their anniversary was only a week away and in all those years he had never bought anything for her from Victoria’s Secret. She reached in, grabbed the bag off the floor then climbed into her front seat while she deliberated over whether she should peek or just wait the week for the surprise.
In the end, curiosity won out, and feeling slightly naughty, she reached between the crinkly pink folds of tissue paper and pulled out a black satin bra and panty set. Her smile turned to a frown. “This will never fit me,” she said to no one in particular, since she was alone in the car and the rest of the world seemed to be asleep. “I can’t believe that with all my bras lying around he couldn’t just take a peek at the size…”
Sarah stopped talking then, not merely because she felt ridiculous carrying on a conversation aloud with herself, but because she suddenly realized that he still hadn’t bought her anything from Victoria’s Secret. This package obviously wasn’t for her. There was a brief struggle over whether she should put it back in the car and behave as though she had never seen it, take it with her to work, or confront him. Almost immediately she came to the conclusion that she wasn’t putting it back. She had hard evidence, well actually it was silky smooth, but it was still evidence. She couldn’t confront him because she would be late for work and the light which had suddenly flickered on in the living room indicated that her five-year-old daughter, Chloe, was now awake and getting ready for school.
“Guess you’re coming with me,” she muttered, disdainfully tossing the lingerie so that it bounced off the passenger seat and ended up on the floor with the thong sticking out. With no alternative, she backed the SUV up into the turn around and drove down the driveway heading for town.
The best part of having a set schedule at a set location was that she could almost run on autopilot to and from work every day. Of course that was also the worst part. When Sarah arrived at the college that day she had no idea how she’d managed to get there. Every part of the drive between her mailbox and her assigned parking spot was a blur. She thought for a moment. Certainly she must have stopped at all the lights, she reasoned, had she not she would have a ticket or would have been in an accident. She was so consumed with what she should do about the evidence that she couldn’t focus on much else.
As she stepped from her vehicle she toyed with the idea of leaving the bag where it laid, but then it occurred to her that Josh might miss his little present and stop by to see if he’d been found out. With a sigh, she grabbed the bag and prepared to lock it in her desk. She wove her way through the parking lot heading into Sibley Hall. The sprawling one-story, bland, brown brick building was now gaining some color due to the arrival of spring. Having grass covering the mud and leaves breaking up some of the dull brick made a marked improvement on its visual appeal. Under normal circumstances, Sarah would be reveling in the song of the robins or the cooing of morning doves, and the distinct scent of spring in the air. Nothing about today was normal, however, as she was oblivious to the signs of seasonal change and instead planned to make a bee line for her office door and see as few people as possible.
With a loud frustrated sigh, Sarah found Brian Waite sitting outside her door in one of the chairs meant for students waiting their turn during office hours. “Dr. Waite,” she said, “to what do I owe this pleasure?” The look on her face was hard; she certainly wasn’t enjoying his presence at that moment. She fumbled to find the key that fit her heavy wooden door and grew only more flustered having an audience.
“Here,” he said gently, taking the keys from her hand to unlock the door. He would have offered to hold the gift bag for her so that she could do it herself, but since her knuckles were white from the death grip on the bag, he didn’t think it likely she would allow him to touch it.
They walked into her office and he made himself comfortable in one of the worn wood chairs opposite her desk. Sarah stood quietly. She clumsily searched for her desk key, looking as though she might tear up at any time. In frustration she gave up and tossed the keys on the desk. Then sitting down, she wrung her hands in an effort to calm them while they shook almost uncontrollably.
“This should help,” Brian said, offering her a cup from Nancy’s Coffee. “It’s your favorite, Cafe au Chocolate.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, bringing the sweet liquid to her lips. She leaned back in her chair. “Ahh.” The warmth was spreading through her system, soothing her.
“So, you mind telling me what has you so unhinged this morning?” Brian asked genuinely concerned. At first Sarah said nothing, so he tried a new approach. He eye
balled the bag and tried to ease the tension with humor. “So, is that for me?”
“No,” she winced, “and it’s not for me either.” He wore a quizzical look, so she sighed and continued. “I found these in Josh’s car this morning.” She plucked the lingerie from the bag and waved it in front of his face carelessly.
“Very nice,” he said admiringly. “But how do you know it’s not meant for you?” Sarah frowned for a moment, then dropped the thong in the bag and held the bra up in front of her chest. Even with her loose blouse on, it was apparent that the bra would never cover her ample breasts. “Oh, I see.” Brian was rendered speechless and distinctly pink, but decided to brave the next logical question. “So what are you going to do?”
“What are my options? Can’t live with him, can’t kill him.” She glanced at Brian, noticed his furrowed brow and felt the need to clarify. “I’m joking,” she insisted. His head tilted slightly. “Mostly,” she admitted. “Besides,” Sarah sighed, “orange jumpsuits look hideous on me.” She forced a hollow laugh. Calmer, she wrenched the bottom drawer of her desk open, tossed the bag into it, and slammed it resolutely. “Yes, I do think I have some inkling as for whom these panties were intended.”
Second Chances Page 57