Honeysuckle Season

by Mary Ellen Taylor

  Olivia stared at the girl now, noticing her face was rounder and her breasts fuller. “That was a kick. A baby’s kick. You have a baby growing inside of you.”

  Sadie kicked the stone floor with the heel of her boot. “I’m getting fat, is all. That’s all it is.”

  “No, Sadie, you’re pregnant. Who is the father? You never told me about any young man.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “But you were with a man. Maybe in the spring.”

  Sadie buried her face in her hands. “I just went to the dance.”

  “You did more than dance.”

  “I didn’t want to do what he did. I thought we were just sitting in the back of his car. And then he started messing with my dress and was on top of me.” Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t have a baby inside of me. My mama will be heartbroken, and then she’s going to call the sheriff, and they’re going to take me away.”

  Olivia took Sadie’s hands in hers. “No one is doing that.”

  “They will,” she shouted as she snatched her hands away. “I don’t have a husband, and the sheriff already warned me after the accident that I’d go to jail if he had any more trouble with me.”

  “He did what?”

  “The sheriff came to my house after the accident and told me I was in big trouble.”

  “You didn’t do anything. I was driving the car, and even that wasn’t enough to lose the baby. The doctor said it is more to do with me than anything that happened.”

  “It doesn’t seem right, you losing babies and me with one I don’t want. I wish I could give you this baby right now; then you could carry it in your belly and love it like your own.” Tears now ran down flushed cheeks. “Then I could leave town, and you could have the child you been wanting so bad.”

  Olivia wished the same. She would like nothing better than to take this child and make it her own. But her husband would not accept it. She loved him but understood he would not raise a child that was not of his flesh.

  “When did this back seat event happen?” Olivia asked.

  “In March.”

  “Which means you’re nearly seven months pregnant and due in December.”

  Sadie’s face tightened with worry, as if the mere mention of the child terrified her. “December’s so close. I can’t have a baby in a couple months. What do I do?”

  “Do you have the father’s name, Sadie?”

  “He told me not to tell.” Her voice hitched with desperation. “He said no one would believe me.”

  “Who was it?”

  Sadie dropped her gaze to her calloused palm. “It was Malcolm. Your husband’s cousin.”

  “Malcolm Carter?” He had a reputation as a ladies’ man, and he had visited them in March to cheer up Edward after the loss of the baby. He had invited them both out to hear the band, but she had been feeling poorly. Edward, too, had declined his offer. If she had gone, she wondered if her presence would have spared Sadie.

  “Please don’t tell your husband.” Her voice sounded desperate.

  “Why not? He should know what kind of man Malcolm is.”

  “Malcolm said if I told, it would get me in more trouble. I don’t want to get sent away.”

  Olivia wasn’t naive. If it came down to Sadie’s word against Malcolm’s, everyone would take Malcolm’s version of events over Sadie’s. For girls like Sadie in this kind of situation, the reality was unjust and bleak. “Go home, Sadie, and tell your mother what is happening. You need her help.”

  “She’ll throw me out.”

  “Is your mother a kind woman?”

  “Of course she is. She’s my mother.”

  “Then trust that she’ll help you. You need her.”

  “I don’t want this baby.”

  “That doesn’t matter now. Unfair as this may sound, you also need to stay away from town until after the baby is born. If you weren’t so small, I’m sure someone would have noticed by now.”

  “I’ve been wearing my brothers’ pants because mine don’t fit.”

  “You have the advantage of the winter as well,” she said. “People tend to stay at home and not socialize as much.”

  “What about supplies? I got to go into town to get those.”

  “I’ll bring you your supplies.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I can drive.”

  “I thought you didn’t want your husband to know.”

  “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

  “What about Malcolm?” Sadie’s face was pale and stricken with fear.

  “Leave him to me.”

  “What are you going to do to him?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Sadie and her baby were not far from Olivia’s mind as she drove the car into Lynchburg. Driving alone, she found herself second-guessing each twist in the road. Several times she took a wrong turn and was forced to turn around. Once she found herself on a hill and had a devil of a time. But she kept driving until—at around two o’clock in the afternoon—she pulled up in front of the hospital in Lynchburg.

  As she sat in the car and stared at the place, she sensed a darkness emanating from the bricks and mortar. Her husband was a good man. She had seen pure kindness in his eyes.

  After Sadie’s visit to the house, Olivia had quizzed Edward more about this place and why he had chosen this line of work. He had sidestepped her questions and, in the end, had only said, “If not me, then who?” Then as now, she sensed in her bones that terrible things happened within the brick walls.

  She set the parking brake and shut off the car. After reaching for her purse, she opened the compact and checked her hair and makeup. She reapplied the red lipstick, taking care to contour the lines. After adjusting the collar of her dress, she opened the door and rose. She carefully smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt before reaching into the back seat for a picnic lunch.

  Drawing in a breath, she stared at the bleak building. It reminded her of an attic—full of unwanted items that could not be tossed away.

  She walked up to the front door and rang. Footsteps echoed inside before the door opened to a stern man with a thin face. She gripped the handle of the basket and, forcing a smile, walked up to the front desk, where an older man dressed in a frayed dark suit sat. “I’m Olivia Carter. I’ve come to see my husband, Dr. Edward Carter.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The man appeared both curious and hesitant. “Does Dr. Carter know that you’re coming?”

  As with the first time, she was hit by the smell of unclean bedding and the musty scent reminiscent of the London hospital during the bombing raids. As much as she had scrubbed and cleaned herself after her shifts on the ward, there had been no getting rid of the bleak smell.

  “He does not,” she said. “It’s a surprise. And before you tell me that he is busy, I must tell you that I know he finishes his surgery by two each day.”

  The old man raised the black telephone receiver to his ear and stuck a bent finger in the zero on the rotary dial. Next came the nine. Then the two.

  Olivia’s burst of bravery waned as she heard the ringing of a phone on the other end. Edward would be glad to see her, of course. Then he would wonder how she had gotten here. And then she would tell him she could drive and had been driving and was responsible for the accident with Sadie.

  The old man nodded and then hung up the phone. “He’ll be right down. You may have a seat.”

  She moved to a small wooden chair and sat, resting the picnic basket on her lap. The lobby was quiet, and there was not the fast-paced comings and goings of people that would be expected in a regular hospital. It was an eerie stillness, as in the moments after the air-raid-shelter doors had closed in London while everyone sat in silence, awaiting the rain of bombs.

  She had hated those quiet, in-between moments the most. In those gaps, the past, present, and future would be irrevocably changed for so many.

&nbs
p; “Olivia, darling,” Edward said as he pushed back a lock of his dark hair. “What are you doing here?”

  She raised her gaze to her husband’s bemused expression as she stood, allowing him to kiss her on the cheek. “I have brought you lunch. Roast beef and fresh bread.”

  “That’s marvelous. I’m starving.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the door. “But how did you get here?”

  “I drove.”

  His eyes brightened, as if she had told him a joke. But when she did not deliver a punch line, he grew serious. “Darling, how could you have driven here? You don’t drive.”

  “I do, as a matter of fact. And I’m fairly good at it. Though getting into first gear on a hill still vexes me somewhat.”

  He took her elbow in his hand and guided her out the front door to the porch. “Who taught you how to drive?”

  The crisp fall air did little to cool her warming cheeks. “Sadie.”

  “Sadie.” The softness hardened into disapproval. “When?”

  “Over the spring.” Though tempted to take a step back, she held her ground. “I was the one driving the car when we crashed. Not her.”

  He held her hands in his grip, tightening slightly. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Cover for that girl. I know you had a fondness for her. You have always worried about the less fortunate. It’s one of the things I love most about you. But she’s not the kind of person worth your time.”

  “I do have a soft spot for the girl, but I’m not covering for her. I was driving when we crashed. The front tire hit a slick spot and then seemed to have a mind of its own. Once in the ditch, I took the coward’s way out and asked her to switch places. She agreed.”

  He pressed his long fingers to his temple. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I don’t want you to blame her for anything. She’s a good girl.”

  He drew in a slow and steady breath, as if he was trying to control his annoyance. “I’ll not be rehiring her, if that is what you’re asking.”

  “I understand that is not possible, but I would like to visit her from time to time.” She nodded toward the Pontiac.

  “I don’t like this or the effect she is having on you.”

  “The only consequence of my knowing Sadie is that I have a friend, and I can drive. I could have visited her without consulting you. However, I would rather have your blessing.”

  “Why do you want to visit the girl?” he demanded.

  “Her mother is ill, and her brothers are away at war, fighting for my country. I don’t see why it would be so terrible for me to try and help out the family.”

  “The girl is trouble. Malcolm has warned me a couple of times, but I didn’t listen.”

  “Malcolm.” Anger rose up in her, chasing away any uncertainty. “I wasn’t aware you had seen him lately.”

  “He’s my cousin and calls me from time to time.”

  She tugged at the pearl button on the cuff of her sleeve. “And what did he say about Sadie?”

  “That she is a wild girl. He saw her at the spring dance unescorted, which is exactly the kind of thing I would expect from a girl like her. Johnny would be mortified. This was after I had fired her, so I didn’t give it much thought. She was out of our lives, so it all worked out for the better.”

  “It seems Malcolm knows quite a bit about Sadie.”

  “All I know is that he has sound judgment, and I take him at his word.”

  “So he was at this dance alone and drinking as well, I presume.” She tugged at the edge of her white glove, flexing her fingers against the soft cotton.

  “You and I both know it is different for men than women.”

  That Olivia knew all too well. “Where is Malcolm these days? I haven’t seen him since that March weekend.”

  “He’s in Richmond finishing up his law degree. He’s smart as a whip and already has several job offers.”

  “He is an accomplished man.” She did not confuse intelligence with honor.

  “So you understand why I would trust his assessment of a girl like Sadie.”

  When words poised on the tip of her tongue were too harsh to vocalize, her mother had always cautioned her to count to ten and then smile. She barely finished the count before she said, “Why do you trust him more than me?”

  He shook his head, as if he were unraveling a puzzle. “That’s not what I said.”

  “Of course it is,” she snapped.

  “Don’t challenge me on this, Olivia,” he warned. “I’m willing to forgive, even allow the driving, but my opinion takes precedence in our home.”

  “I’m sorry that my differing opinions and driving trouble you so, but I won’t be backing down from either.”

  His frown deepened, and his jaw tightened.

  “Edward, you’re talking to a woman who worked in a London hospital that was bombed. I survived under the rubble for nine hours. I’m sure if I could survive in the rubble, I can drive a motor vehicle on a regular basis and have a difference of opinion with you. Besides, my driving will free you up from those tedious trips into Charlottesville for shopping.”

  “I don’t mind taking you,” he quickly offered.

  “That’s sweet of you, but it will lift my mood. Get me out of this slump I’ve been in.” She took him by the hand and guided him off the porch toward the car. Glancing back at the hospital to make sure no one was looking, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips. She wanted him to feel the promise of a new and stronger wife and friend.

  He raised his hand to her waist and tugged her very gently toward him. His fingers curled into a loose fist, as if he was fighting the urge to take what he really wanted right now.

  She drew back, pleased with herself. “Let’s have lunch. And then when you get home tonight, I’ll arrange a special dessert for you.”

  A slow grin curled his lips. “It’s nice to have you back.”

  This was the first time since the rubble had buried her that she truly felt like herself. It was as if she had just tossed off the last rock pinning her down. “Good to be back.”

  She handed him a picnic blanket, which he spread out on their bench. She sat, curling her legs beside his as she unpacked the basket.

  “I feel as if you have somehow played me,” he said.

  “I have, darling. And I suspect you’re okay with it.” She served him a plate of fried chicken with corn bread, along with a red-and-white-checkered napkin.

  He took a bite, frowning a little as he regarded her. “I don’t like the idea of you driving on the roads alone.”

  “What if I promise only to drive in the daylight? No night driving.”

  “Good Lord, I had never even considered night driving.”

  “I’ll also never drive more than, say, twenty miles.”

  “In the daytime. When it’s not inclement weather?”

  “Yes, if that will make you feel better. My driving days will be picture perfect like today.”

  “It still makes me nervous.”

  She grinned and leaned toward him, ensuring him an ample view of her bosom. “That sounds like a yes to me.”

  “It is a reluctant yes.”

  “And I shall always take a slow yes over a fast no.” She plucked a piece of chicken out of the basket and raised it to her lips. “Do remember to invite Malcolm.”

  “Why?” Suspicion darkened his tone.

  “I know how you have missed him, and I would dearly love to catch up.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Malcom is family, Olivia. Don’t ever embarrass me in front of him—or publicly, for that matter.” His gaze hardened as he glanced up toward the brick building and then back at her.

  Her breathing slowed. “What are you saying? That you would lock me up in a place like that?”

  “I spend my days dealing with troublesome women, and I refuse to do it in my home.”

  “You didn’t
answer my question.”

  A heavy silence lingered between them. He smiled finally and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Don’t ever force me to make that kind of choice.”

  She met his gaze, absorbing the full meaning of his threat.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  LIBBY

  Wednesday, June 17, 2020

  The Woodmont Estate

  They did not have the luxury of cuddling or spending the night together. After they made love, they dressed, each tossing the other sheepish grins, and he drove her home.

  “That was nice,” she said.

  “Just nice?” he teased.

  “It was great. Just what the doctor ordered. But I don’t want things to get weird between us.”

  “Nothing about this feels weird to me. I’d like to do it again. Maybe a proper meal that doesn’t involve elementary school boy talk and does include a proper bed.”

  That felt a little like a commitment. Maybe not a huge lifetime thing, but it was a start. She could not even begin to think about anything beyond next week, but more sex with Colton was totally acceptable.

  “I have a bed.” She reached for her door handle. “And I can cook for us. Unless being here is a little too close to home. I know how small towns can be.”

  “Here is fine.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  “Weekends don’t work for me for the next few weeks, but weeknights do.”

  “Next Wednesday?” he offered.

  “Done.”

  She kissed him one last time and got out of the car, climbing her front steps as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Of course, the weight would return, but for tonight that was good enough. She opened the front door and glanced back to see him waiting. She switched on the light in the front entryway, and when she closed the door behind her, he drove off.

  She sat on the couch, grabbed a pillow, and hugged it to her midsection. Her phone rang. It was Sierra.

  “What have you been doing?” she asked.

  “I had a date, sort of.”

  “With Colton?”