His Perfect Woman (Urban Hearts Series Book 1)

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His Perfect Woman (Urban Hearts Series Book 1) Page 15

by Towne, L. E.


  “I want to sit by the window, can I?” Eli’s four-year old enthusiasm for his first airplane ride overruled his customary shyness. At least the first one he was old enough to remember.

  “Of course you can.” The flight attendant’s eyes smiled at Az’s son, glanced at her and lingered over her husband’s tall frame.

  Jonathan abandoned the terseness he’d had in the airport with Az and asked the attendant if he could retrieve his laptop prior to stowing his bag. At the sound of his West Kent accent, the flight attendant—not a young woman by any means, babbled like some teenager that he could take his sweet time. She stood by in case he needed even more assistance, never mind the glowering looks from the line of passengers in the aisle behind them. It was going to be a long flight. Az folded herself in half as she struggled to shove her bag under the seat in front of Eli.

  “Look, Mama, there’s my suitcase.” She leaned over to see that it was indeed a child’s bright blue suitcase on the luggage truck.

  “See, he’s loading it onto the plane. We’ll pick it up when we land.”

  Eli’s face crinkled in a brief frown.

  “I hope Elwood won’t be scared by himself.”

  “I’m sure Elwood will be fine, buddy. But we’ll ask the nice lady to check on him later, okay?” Jonathan spoke from the aisle seat.

  His laptop stowed on its side under the seat in front of him, Jonathan’s legs were tucked gracefully into the tiny space. She was the one who flew a lot, yet Az was disorganized and ungainly, squished into the center seat, with nothing but her cell phone within reach. She was cramped and uncomfortably warm, but some stubborn part of her refused to move. She sat there like a contrary cactus, prickly and untouchable.

  Az wore her new business suit, a red Ponte knit with black trim, so sure it would meet with approval across the pond. Too late, the realization came that after seven hours on a plane, she would emerge wrinkled, crinkled and frayed. Jonathan wore comfy faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt, his leather jacket stowed above them. Unlike her, he’d already turned off his cell phone and had the in-flight magazine open on his lap.

  “The nice lady would like nothing more than to check on Elwood,” she said and brushed some fuzz away from her jacket. Jonathan’s lips compressed into a thin line under his dark moustache—his disappointed look. He rarely got angry, but he’d learned his expressions from the queen of disapproval—his mother. At this point, she would have preferred pissed off. Pissed off you can do something with. You can placate, you can argue, get pissed off back, but the staid, ultra-polite, disapproval was tailor-made for no rebuttal. It really pissed her off.

  “Are you sure?” Eli’s little voice, sounding uncertain for the first time since they boarded the plane, clipped whatever irritation Azure had.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  Elwood was a stuffed animal, a rather dilapidated thin blue elephant with one eye missing, but he was as beloved as any live pet would be and traveled everywhere Eli went. Across the living room or across the ocean, it made no difference to Elwood and so off to England he went. Jonathan had thought their almost five year old was too old to hang on to such silly things, and had vetoed Elwood traveling in the plane with them, (he was a bit large, if floppy), but she couldn’t resist after seeing that the only thing Eli had packed in his little blue suitcase was a single pair of batman underwear and the ragged toy. They compromised by letting Elwood travel in baggage. After all, two weeks away was a very long time for a four year old boy, or a three year old stuffed elephant.

  After her reassurances, the issue of Elwood’s well-being was temporarily forgotten as the plane began taxiing toward the take-off runway. Unwinding the grey fuzzy scarf from her neck, she stuffed it in the seat pocket and checked her phone one last time for emails before shutting it off and slipping it into her pocket. Jonathan glanced at this action and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. Not quite disappointed, it was more disenchanted this time.

  As she’d feared, she arrived at Heathrow airport frayed, rumpled and sweaty, whereas Jonathan looked as fresh as if he’d showered on the plane. He’d donned his leather jacket, wove a dark paisley scarf around his neck and while he looked like a movie star going through the airport, she looked like his harried assistant. The rough edge of stubble outlining his normally trim goatee gave him a softer, more rugged look. His dark hair was tossed back sexily on his head. He’d run his fingers through the thick waves repeatedly. This nervous gesture being the only sign that he was somewhat reticent to see his family again.

  “Halloo!” Jonathan’s sister waved to them frantically from the across the terminal. Az wondered briefly if she was parked in a red zone or if there was some other deadline they were missing by not getting through the concourse faster. His sister was wearing a pale pink herringbone sweater over black trousers and low-heeled very sensible pumps with the exception of their color—a neon heart-stopping orange. They matched her pink and orange hat perfectly.

  Jonathan waved to her and Az lifted Eli up so he could see his only auntie.

  Jane was eight years older than Jonathan and a secretary at a prestigious prep school near Kensington. Az seriously doubted she got to wear orange pumps at work, so was happy that a trip to the airport was enough of an occasion for her to dress up. Behind her, Az spotted Reggie, Jane’s husband. A pleasant sort of fellow if somewhat pasty and malformed, he resembled a giant heap of mashed potatoes, right up to the sandy clump of butter-colored hair on the top of his head.

  After many exclamations of how big Eli was and how much she had missed her baby brother, Jane finally settled down to wait for luggage at the turnstile.

  “What sort of plane was it?” Reggie asked, bright blue eyes winking out from his starchy face.

  “Um? American Airlines?” Az had no idea what he was asking. Though she’d lived in Britain for almost four years, sometimes their colloquialisms still baffled her.

  “It was an A330, with first class upstairs.” Jonathan said, keeping his eye on the suitcases rolling down the ramp.

  “Oh, very good machine, very safe,” Reggie said. She’d forgotten Reggie loved all sorts of obscure facts that had nothing to do with anything relevant. It was sort of a hobby to pick out some odd trivia about the topic at hand and expound on it, to the absolute delight of her sister-in-law who found her husband’s odd ability to retain these factoids nothing short of amazing. Az sometimes wondered if Jonathan had been adopted.

  “There it is!” Eli yelled, seeing his blue suitcase come down the ramp. “I want to get it.” He wiggled his way to the front of the crowd, Jonathan not far behind.

  The drive to Sevenoaks was an hour, Reggie choosing to brave traffic through London center. Az sat in the back with Jane, who managed to keep up a lively conversation with an excited and abnormally talkative Eli.

  Jonathan’s parents’ house at number 16 Appledore Rd, was a former Rectory for the Church of St Margaret. Built in the 1700’s when the church owned a major chunk of land, it was one of the few buildings still standing. The church having sold off bits and pieces of property over the centuries until the town grew around it. Jonathan’s father dabbled in real estate fairly successfully, and had purchased the old building at its worst. They had since spent untold amounts of money to refurbish and restore the place.

  Azure did not love the house. It was cold and clammy, bare floors with high end carpets placed sparingly in the dining room and living room. The plaster walls and rugged beams somehow lost their charm with the high ceilings. She had been there several times over the course of her relationship with their son, and every time Az set foot in the place, Eloise Stanhope Worth endeavored to educate her on the varied past residents of the rectory. Her mother-in-law felt that an American simply could not appreciate the idea of living in such a historical treasure. Eloise was right, Az thought. Damn the history, give her central heating any day.

  There were only two features of the house Az liked. One being the library office of her fa
ther-in-law, a low ceilinged room with its own fireplace and walls crammed haphazardly with books and maps, with a view of the back garden through its wavy paned window. The other feature was the entrance. An enormous grapevine arbor—this time of year it dripped with blossoming wisteria hovering over a cobblestone path. The pathway opened out to reveal the stone-worked front of the house, and six foot wide steps leading to a huge oak double front door.

  Reggie drove up into the curved driveway and parked his Peugeot behind his mother-in-law’s Mercedes. Eloise emerged from under the lavender flowered arbor to greet them.

  “Well done, Reg,” Eloise complimented her son-in-law. “You made excellent time.” Reggie beamed, ducked his head and proceeded to unload luggage from the boot located in the front of the car. Jonathan bounced out to give his mother a hug. Az noted the absence of his father. Charles was probably still at the University, working. She wasn’t surprised, but she’d hoped he’d be there as his quiet presence balanced out Eloise’s sharper personality.

  “Hello, Eloise.” Az gave the shorter woman a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hello dear, you’ve cut your hair again. Oh look, here’s my lovely grandson. Eli darling, come give Grandmummy a kiss-kiss.”

  Az went to help Reggie with the luggage, while Jane yammered on to her mother about traffic and airports and whatever. Azure was grateful for her brother-in-law’s bland pastiness and his patter about the history of wisteria in England.

  “Az, please keep your voice down.” Jonathan’s own voice was barely controlled.

  “Why? They’ve got to know something’s going on. They’re not stupid. They can see that we—

  “That we what? Just what are we?”

  “We’re different. We’re not like we were when we lived here. I’m not the same. You’re not the same.”

  “That’s just it. I am the same. You’re the one who’s changed.” The words came out like some bitter spit of tobacco.

  They were closed off in one of the less drafty bedrooms on the east side of the house. Her in-laws were out in the garden teaching Eli the finer elements of croquet. He didn’t care about the wickets at all. He simply had a great time whacking balls with a mallet. Az had excused herself from the game to go upstairs, unable to bear Jonathan’s reserved anger another minute. And he couldn’t resist the urge to follow her to their room to tell her how rude she was being to his parents.

  They’d been in England a week—the first few days were filled with outings with his parents and Jane and Reggie, but eventually, his father went back to work and Eloise went back to her daily activities with the church or garden club—this solitude had been their undoing. Left to their own devices, she and Jonathan had disintegrated once again.

  “Maybe I have changed,” she said tiredly. “Is that so bad?”

  He walked to the window and watched their son playing croquet with his parents. Azure heard Eli’s shrill scream of delight as another wooden ball rolled away from his mallet.

  “I can’t seem to make you happy anymore.” Jonathan didn’t look at her.

  “Same here. And I don’t know how to fix it.” Her head hurt, tears threatened at the backs of her eyes. He turned from the window, looking at her for a long sad second. His hands and shoulders coming up in a gesture of defeat.

  “I need to get back. Mum will be up here, otherwise.” He was right. His mother had been watching the two of them with a careful eye since they’d gotten to the house. Az knew Jonathan hadn’t said anything to her, and she’d thought they’d kept their discord under wraps, but Eloise was no dummy.

  Two days later Azure awoke late on a Saturday to find Eloise alone in the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” Eloise was dressed and perfectly coifed as usual, wearing a tweed skirt and cream blouse. Az remembered that in the six years she’d been married to Jonathan, she’d never seen her mother-in-law in pants, or trousers, as Eloise corrected her. Trousers were for gardening and not much else.

  “Good morning,” Azure roused herself into some sense of wakefulness and smiled gratefully that there was still coffee left. The Worth’s were tea drinkers of course, and would make one pot of coffee for her and Jonathan in the mornings. Jonathan had been up awhile judging by the smidgen of coffee left in the pot.

  “The boys have gone on a jaunt this morning,” Eloise answered her unasked question.

  “A jaunt?”

  “Yes, Charlie heard about some map or other in Gillingham and the boys accompanied him to see about it.” Charles was a collector of old documents and rare books as well as real estate. Eloise watched her take this news in. Gillingham wasn’t far, but it would take at least half a day there and back depending on stops, or if they decided to have lunch.

  “When did they leave?”

  “Not long ago. Jonathan wanted to wait for you, but Charlie was itching to get away. I told him to just trot along.”

  “I would have gotten up, had I known,” she protested half-heartedly.

  “Nonsense. You must have been completely exhausted. Goodness, it’s almost half past nine. Besides, it will be good for them to spend some time together, just the men-folk.”

  Azure sighed. All day with Eloise. Okay, then.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She sipped the bitter coffee. Perhaps she was right. Jonathan and she could use a break from each other, and maybe he and his father would even talk some. She snorted.

  “Something wrong, dear?” Eloise was still puttering in the kitchen. Azure had hoped she’d be off to her club or church work or something. But no, she needed to stay and torture her all day.

  “Ah no, I think I need some sugar for this coffee is all.”

  “It’s in the right-hand cabinet.” Eloise sat down across from Azure’s chair. Az said nothing, just sipped her now, overly sweet, half-cold and miserable coffee. She almost longed for a good cup of hot tea, but wouldn’t give in and say that. Eloise sipped hers out of a delicate china tea cup, holding the saucer in one hand. Gradually, Az felt herself sitting up straighter just watching her and she hated her for it. “I’m glad they’re gone today. It will give us a chance to chat,” the older woman spoke. “You kids will be gone soon.” Her keen eyes watched Azure like a bird eyeing a worm. The younger woman squirmed in spite of herself.

  “Yes, well, both of us have to get back to work.”

  “Jonathan says you travel a lot still.”

  “Yes, that’s the nature of the job, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, I...” she broke off. Last thing Azure wanted to hear from Eloise was another lecture on how she should be home for her son. “I know that you two… have….well, I suppose you’ve had a spot of trouble.”

  Az tried to play innocent. Eloise’s eyes cut across the table. Azure faltered. “Well, yes. I didn’t realize he’d told you.”

  “He didn’t. But my heavens, I know my own son. I know when he’s unhappy, and I couldn’t let him pretend things were fine.”

  What could she say to that? Things were not fine.

  “I’m sorry he’s unhappy. And we certainly didn’t want to burden you with our troubles.” Azure especially didn’t want to.

  “Jonathan intimated that he might find a place closer to his work. I certainly don’t see how that’s going to help.”

  “It might make him happier. I don’t seem to these days.”

  “So you agree?” She looked at Az accusingly, as though she were kicking Jonathan out of his own home.

  “I don’t disagree. I don’t think we should be fighting around Eli so much.”

  “Of course not, but the solution isn’t to stay away from each other. You should work it out. How about the church? Can you both talk to the vicar?”

  Az smiled wanly at her mother-in-law and told her that they hadn’t been to a church save for Easter Sunday since moving to Denver. Perhaps they would have if their church had vicars. Vicar sounded so old worldly and comforting somehow. Az pictured them in long robes puttering around rose gardens outside ancient stone churches. She
could see Eloise fight to keep the disapproval out of her voice. A large undertaking for the woman as disapproval came so easily.

  “So, then some family therapist or something? No marriage is all fun, you know. There are bad times and you just get through them.”

  “And wait for the good times?’

  “Yes, they will come ‘round again. I’m sure. Charlie and I had our troubles back in the day, but we didn’t just leave. We had a responsibility—to each other, to our children. To stay together and work it out.”

  Azure smiled again. Her father-in-law was definitely a Charles and no one referred to him as Charlie except for Eloise. He accepted the nickname from his wife with abounding affection. “The last thing I want to do is to break up the family—especially because of Eli. But—”

  “Then why are you? Just go back and see a counselor or someone.”

  “I think it’s different with you and Charles.”

  “How so?”

  “You and Charles are meant to be together. I can see it in the way he looks at you. The way you call him Charlie and pretend to get all flustered when he says something nice. It’s nice. You guys are comfortable together.”

  “Thirty-five years will do that for someone.”

  “Jonathan and I don’t have that comfortableness. We’re uneasy with each other. He doesn’t talk. And when he does it’s about everyday things—surface things that don’t matter.”

  Eloise moved her teacup and it rattled impatiently. Both her hands pressed against the table, as though she were about to stand, but she leaned toward her daughter-in-law instead.

  “What do you mean surface things?”

  “I mean like what we’re having for dinner and the car needs a tune-up and did I pay the cable bill.”

  “Well, all of that is necessary to running a house.”

  “Of course, but it’s not all that’s necessary to keeping a relationship going. I need more. He’s unwilling to give me more.”

 

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