Despite flying first class and receiving plenty of attention from the flight attendant, Katharine couldn’t relax and enjoy the flight. Her mind kept returning to Natalie’s betrayal. The magazines the attendant had brought weren’t helping, and staring out at the clouds couldn’t distract her, either. She’d shared her most private secrets with Natalie. If need be, she’d have given her own kidney to save Natalie’s life. She couldn’t process the idea of Natalie gossiping with Vincent about such intimate details of her life, her marriage. Apparently, everything had a dollar value—even friendship.
She heard Vincent’s voice in her head repeating the title of his upcoming film, What She Did for Love. Natalie knew darn well that Katharine had enhanced her body for the love of her husband. It was no coincidence the main character in Vincent’s new script had done the same thing. Now, thanks to Vincent’s announcement at the open house, people all over the world would see her life on the big screen and soon afterwards on DVD in the comfort of their homes.
In her mind, she kept seeing herself as a scared, lonely woman, cut off from her husband and her best friend. True, she had cut off Natalie, but it felt like the other way around. She’d been dropped. Everyone had let her down somehow, walked away from her, lied to her. Betrayed her.
Katharine could sense a headache building behind her eyes. She was certain Natalie had told her family and friends everything about Carson. The private details of her failing marriage were now fresh gossip. People she didn’t know were already talking about her and what she’d done for love.
Katharine turned her head away to hide her tears from the passenger sitting next to her. The tears relaxed her exhausted mind and body, and she fell asleep.
* * *
It was wonderful to be home. The first thing she did after the cab driver dropped her luggage at the front door and drove away was to check the messages on the answering machine. Her dentist’s office had called to reschedule her appointment at her request. The other messages were from telemarketers, friends of CJ and Bethany, and a former high school classmate advising her of the meeting of the reunion committee. The last message was from Stephen.
“Hi, Kat. It’s Steve. Please hear me out before you decide it’s none of my business. You and Nat have been friends far too long to allow something like this to happen. I’m sure it’s all a mix-up and you just need to talk with her. Even though she maintains her innocence, and I believe her, Natalie’s a nervous wreck. Don’t let Satan steal a beautiful friendship from you, Kat. Please give me a call when you get this message. Love you.” He’d said it all quickly as if he’d thought she was going to hang up on him.
Katharine rolled her eyes. “Of course you believe her; she’s your wife!” she said sharply to the air. As far as she was concerned, nothing and no one could ever make her talk to Natalie again.
She quickly watered the indoor plants and despite the drizzle, the outdoor plants, too, and gave them a healthy dose of plant food.
Before phoning Sadie to tell her she would pickup CJ and Bethany as soon as she showered and changed clothes, she decided to check her overflowing mailbox. She dumped the pile of bills and letters on the dining room table and sorted through the pile, weeding out the trash and separating the bills and Carson’s mail from her own correspondence.
Coming across an Express Mail envelope addressed to Katharine O’Connor with a postmark from Mexico, she looked at it curiously for a moment, wondering what it could be, and then opened it to find divorce papers, stamped “certified copy.”
She closed her eyes and groaned, but tears slid through her eyelids and down her cheeks. What was Carson doing to her? Why was he toiling with her feelings? Forcing herself to sift through the rest of the mail, she found a brown envelope with the Chapel of Love, Reno, Nevada, as the return address. It too was addressed to Katharine O’Connor in an Express Mail pouch. She fumbled to open it and pulled out the contents with trembling hands. It seemed to be a set of three or four photographs.
She dropped the first photo, which showed Carson’s hand relaxed affectionately on Deanna’s shoulder, as if she was his own flesh and blood; she looked at the second snapshot. Her stomach contracted at the sight of Carson and Cindy in wedding clothes, his hand resting intimately around her narrow waist. Swallowing the dread that choked her, she moved on to the third picture, which showed them cheek-to-cheek. Nausea rose in her throat, nausea and rage.
Recalling that photographs could be faked, she studied Carson’s face closely. He looked younger and happier, but it was definitely Carson.
There was more. Beneath the last photograph was something even more frightening—a marriage certificate. This one had red lettering stamped, “certified copy.”
This can’t be. She closed her eyes, willing the nausea to recede.
Her puffy eyes fixed on yet another envelope. The return address read W. Freeman. Underneath it was the name Atlanta Ledger with its mailing address. What would Freeman be sending me in the mail? she wondered numbly. Whatever it was, she didn’t have the strength to open it, let alone read it. She had more pressing, more serious concerns awaiting her with Carson and Cindy.
She needed to talk to Natalie, to tell her all about it, but then she remembered that she’d cut off all communication with her former friend. Weakly, she lifted the phone and dialed Sadie.
The phone rang six times before Sadie’s voice said, “You’ve reached the Keller’s residence. Please leave a message after the tone.” Katharine wanted to talk to her sister directly, but the loud beep forced her to speak.
“Girl, where are y’all?” Katharine said in a fake, girlfriend-type voice as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m back, but, uh, could you do me a favor and keep the children for another night? I have some things I need to take care of this evening.” She swiped her fingers underneath her eyes and inhaled mucus. “I’ll call and talk to you all later. Love you much.” She’d managed to keep her voice cheery, but she felt miserable.
Everyone was deserting her. The two adults she loved most had betrayed her trust. She wouldn’t be surprised if Natalie knew all about Carson giving her a Mexican divorce and marrying Cindy. She entertained the thought that Natalie and Stephen had flown to Reno to attend the ceremony.
Then again, it could be a conspiracy of Cindy’s. But she quickly shook away the theory. A woman would have to be deranged to be so manipulative. Officially certified, seal-stamped documents don’t lie. Photographs could be altered, but these were real. She was sure of it.
She went to her room, locked the door, and fell across the bed with her clothes still on. Sleep overtook her within minutes, a murky sleep filled with the images of Carson and Cindy. When the telephone rang, she had to claw her way through a molasses-thick fog to reach consciousness.
Carson’s voice sounded amazingly cheerful. “Hi, Kat. I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked at Vincent and Alaina’s. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to—”
She caught her breath at the sound of his voice. “Why are you calling me?” she broke in. “Why don’t you leave me alone? Why don’t you go be with your—your new wife and daughter!”
“I need to talk with you about the article.”
“Article? What article? What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You’ve shattered my heart for the last time. Just leave me alone!” She slammed down the phone wondering why he didn’t respond to her statement about his new wife and daughter.
Of course! she thought. That’s why Carson made his cameo appearance at Vincent’s: to tell me he’d married Cindy less than two hundred miles away in Reno. And the article he was probably referring to was the certificate of divorce.
Her face felt tight from the dried tears. She grabbed her keys and fled out the door.
* * *
After driving around for hours, Katharine shoved forward the hood of her rain slick cape she’d always kept rolled up in the glove compartment, and knelt in the wet grass of her family’s cemetery plots. “I need your help, Father,” she
prayed aloud. “It’s all such a mess. Nat and Stephen. Carson and Cindy. Freeman and me. Tell me what to do. I can’t fix this without You.”
Observing the soft patter of the rain against the flowers was soothing. A raindrop trickled down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. She licked it with her tongue, tasted salt, and realized it wasn’t a raindrop at all. “I trusted Carson,” she told her heavenly Father.
“I’m so confused. You hold the key to all this. She swept a strand of wet hair away from her face. “You have to help me,” she said. “Give me something. Anything! Help!” she cried loudly.
There was no answer. Some people would call her crazy for sitting there in the rain, talking to a God she couldn’t see and surrounded by tombstones. But Katharine knew God was listening and that her dad and her granny, if they were listening, too, would understand her dilemma. And even if God didn’t answer her right away, He heard her heartfelt cries.
She lifted her head to watch a plane from afar lift off from the runway and climb until it disappeared into the clouds. She wanted her problems to disappear. In spite of her raincoat, she shivered in the dampness.
At the center of her jumbled emotions, one piece of knowledge shone suddenly, painfully clear. She was a free woman, permanently detached from the man she loved; from a relationship that seemed to have no future, no hope of anything beyond feeding the hunger that wouldn’t leave her alone. She cried silently as the rain fell around her.
At last, she raised her aching body, lowered her chin to shield her eyes from the rain, and found her way back to her car. Somehow she had to find the strength to pick herself up and move on with her life. “I can do all things through Christ Jesus,” she kept repeating. She desperately wanted to believe those words.
She had three days left of her vacation, but now that things had taken a drastic turn, she didn’t want to spend the time alone at home with her thoughts. It wasn’t healthy. She decided to forfeit the rest of her vacation and return to work.
What had all the passion been about a few weeks earlier when Carson had confessed his love and apologized for his behavior? Had he been trying to connive his way into bed with her for one final round when he really wanted to be with Cindy for the long haul?
“Oh, God,” she sighed heavily. “I feel so foolish. Cindy tried to tell me, but I just made a complete jackass of myself.” She shielded her eyes with her hand and wept.
* * *
Cindy lurked behind a huge tombstone, her umbrella protecting her from the drops of rain that splattered on the grassy field, turning it to mush. At first, she wasn’t certain it was Katharine she saw sitting in the midst of the small, private burial ground during a rainfall. Then, briefly at one point, Katharine looked straight ahead, and Cindy saw her face clearly.
Norman was buried there and Cindy had come to visit him as she often did, especially when her life became complicated. But what on earth was Katharine doing in her husband’s family plot?
Chapter 36
Katharine was preparing for her appointment with Phoebe Hill who had traveled from North Carolina. Phoebe’s eighty-seven year old aunt had spent the last two years of her life at Berkley prior to her death. It was Phoebe’s first trip to the facility. Phoebe’s mother had previously handled the business with Berkley, but she’d taken ill herself.
“I’ve come to settle my aunt’s bill and to pick up her personal belongings,” Phoebe Hill said, her lemon-colored face pale with grief, her eyes dark from fatigue.
“Thank you for keeping your appointment,” Katharine said. “I know you’ve had a long road trip. Why don’t you come with me?”
Phoebe followed her into a room that held floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined with a variety of finely crafted books. They passed a curved staircase leading to the second floor and entered a sitting room, adjacent to Katharine’s office, filled with Queen Anne furniture and collectibles. Two wingback chairs and a small sofa were arranged in a semicircle around the fireplace as if to encourage conversation.
Katharine pressed a remote control to an elegantly designed, large open hearth and a realistic-looking fire became visible. “Have a seat by the fire,” Katharine said. “It’ll help you to relax after such a long journey.”
Phoebe sat down in one of the wingbacks and Katharine sat in the other with a file folder in her hand. She placed it on the coffee table.
“We were terribly sorry to lose Mrs. Wellington,” Katharine continued. “She was an unusual woman, delightfully charming to the end.” She gave Phoebe a brief but friendly smile.
A staff member carrying a silver tray containing a variety of gourmet cookies, a long-necked silver cruet, and two teacups with matching saucers interrupted the one-sided conversation.
“I’ll take that, Lucinda.” Katharine rose and took the tray, holding it out to Phoebe, who declined the offer. She set the tray down on the table and picked up where she’d left off. “I’m afraid her time with us here at Berkley was costly. In the last two months alone, she required extensive medical treatments. I must assure you that none of this was superfluous. We only did what was necessary to maintain a degree of comfort and dignity.”
“I’m sure you did your best,” Phoebe sighed.
“Naturally we prefer payment in full, but, if necessary, we can arrange for you to pay in monthly installments.” Katharine hated this part of her job.
“How much do I owe you?”
Katharine riffled through the papers in the manila folder now on her lap.
“Let’s see . . . uh, here we are. Eight thousand seven-hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s after her private insurance and Medicare payments.”
Phoebe’s already pale face turned ashen. “But I don’t—I never expected—”
“I know it’s a shock, and I wish it were otherwise, but you were aware that the hospital wing was expensive. As I said, we’ll be happy to make financial arrangements to enable you to pay your obligation over an extended period.”
Phoebe nodded numbly.
“It’s one of the unfortunate circumstances of this business,” Katharine continued. “I’m sorry to impose a financial burden on you during this time of mourning, but I’m afraid I have no choice.”
“I understand.”
“Believe me, we’ll make every effort to accommodate you.” Katharine continued to talk while penning notes inside the folder.
For a long while, Phoebe sat staring at Katharine, obviously wondering where she would find eighty-seven hundred dollars. Finally, her eyes shifted to a five-by-seven photo of Carson encased in a plain black frame with a thin gold strip connecting the four corners. She caught her breath in a wave of surprise.
“I don’t mean to be intrusive, but is that your boyfriend or husband?”
“My husband,” Katharine said. She couldn’t bring herself to say “ex-husband.”
“I just asked because he looks exactly like a man I photographed a few months ago. Excuse me for saying so, but I never forget a good-looking man like that. You two must make a handsome couple.”
“Thank you. We’ve been together for a long time.” Katharine had thought about removing the pictures of Carson, but she hadn’t informed her staff of the divorce yet.
“It’s amazing. The resemblance is eerie. Well, let me tell you, Mrs. O’Connor,” Phoebe said in a gossipy voice, “your husband must have an identical twin roaming around somewhere.” She stared at the photo as if recalling the moment. “I’m not very good remembering names, but I think it was something like Lawson. But like I said, I never forget a handsome face.”
Katharine almost swallowed her tongue. “What was the name again?”
She put her index finger on her lips and stared into the air as if trying to recall the name. “Lawson or Dawson or something like that.” She maintained her pose for another second or two. “Well, anyway,” she said as if she’d thought it over, “I keep all my negatives, and I could email you a copy of the picture of him. You and your husband will get a kick out of seeing
it. Are you sure he wasn’t a twin and separated at birth?”
She’d said it as a joke, but Katharine was too engrossed in the coincidence to see the humor in it. “You say you photographed this man a few months ago?”
“I’m a freelance photographer. On weekends, I take costume photos at a resort in Asheville.”
Katharine looked at her, puzzled. “Asheville, North Carolina?”
Phoebe nodded. “The guests come into the shop and choose from a variety of vintage and modern costume to dress up in. Then I pose them and take their pictures.” She clicked an imaginary camera.
The photograph of Carson and Cindy in wedding clothes came into Katharine’s mind. “Oh, really?” A sudden excitement surged through her.
“Yup,” Phoebe said. A bit of color had come into her cheeks. “He and his wife—at least I thought she was his wife,” she shrugged—“dressed up in the bride and groom outfits. Their daughter was there, too, dressed as a junior bridesmaid. I remember the girl because she looked so pure. A chunky little kid, but she reminded me of myself as a girl.”
Katharine nearly slid out of her chair.
“Are you okay, Mrs. O’Connor?”
“Yes, I’m okay. Just a little tired.” She shook herself from a brief muse.
“I can understand that. I’m a lot tired myself.”
“I’m sure you are,” Katharine responded. She was anxious to think this through and decided to cut the meeting short. “I apologize, Ms. Hill.” She rose from her chair. “I didn’t mean to distract you. Will you still be in town tomorrow?”
Phoebe nodded wordlessly.
“Good. Why don’t you take some time to assess your situation and come back tomorrow? We’ll work out the arrangements at that time and have your aunt’s personal items ready to take with you.”
Phoebe looked uncomfortable but managed a polite smile as she stood to leave.
“Oh, one more thing before you go,” Katharine said.
Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance) Page 23
