Jackie could say nothing. She didn’t want to remember that she’d known William as a little boy.
“But of course you remember,” Terri said when Jackie didn’t answer. “You were his baby-sitter, and he used to follow you everywhere. Oh, the escapades you two had! And now, Billy, how nice it is of you to help Jackie when she needs it. Well, please remember me to your parents, and maybe you can get together with my children.”
“Yes,” Jackie said in a very nasty tone. “Maybe we can arrange play dates for them. In a sandbox. Or maybe we can take them to the circus. They could ride the elephants and eat cotton candy.”
At her hateful tone, Terri looked surprised and confused. “Well, yes, maybe.”
“Jackie’s hand hurts her,” William said placidly, and his calmness made Jackie even angrier. “It puts her a bit on edge.”
“Walk me out to the car, will you?” Terri said to Jackie.
Her hands clenched at her side, Jackie walked with her friend to the car where her big son sat glowering behind the steering wheel. As they approached, he turned his head away, but not before Jackie saw a smear of dried blood leading from his nose across his cheek.
“Don’t think you can put me off,” Terri said cheerfully as they reached the car. “I mean to find out who the man in your life is.”
Jackie’s teeth were locked together. “William is not a child, you know. In case you haven’t noticed, he is a man.” She had not meant to say that.
Terri looked puzzled, as though what Jackie had said had nothing whatever to do with what was going on in the world. “Of course he’s a young man. I didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t. Do you think I hurt his feelings by asking him about his parents? Children that age can be so sensitive.”
“William is not a child!” Her words sounded more forceful than she meant them to. Why couldn’t she be sophisticated and cool-tempered? She might as well tell Terri the truth about how she was beginning to feel about William.
“No,” Terri said calmly, “Billy is not a child, but once you’ve seen a person in diapers you tend to always see that person in diapers.” She cocked her head to one side. “What is wrong with you? I think it’s very nice of Billy to take care of you. You’ve certainly taken care of him often enough. I remember how he was always on your heels. Everyone in school used to laugh about little Billy Montgomery following you around.” She reached out and patted Jackie’s arm and gave her a sad look. “Billy must be the closest thing you’ll ever have to your own child.”
“Only if I had given birth to him when I was ten years old!” Jackie snapped with a great deal of venom.
Terri looked startled by Jackie’s fierceness. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sure that your childlessness must be a sore point with you. I meant nothing by what I said. I just think it’s nice that Billy is here with you. It’s kind of him.”
Jackie could say nothing, absolutely nothing. Terri had meant well, but she had succeeded in making Jackie feel about a hundred years old. According to Terri, Jackie was infertile, an old woman who had already lived her life, and there was no hope of any future for her. According to Terri, Jackie should be grateful that a young man like William “helped” her when she was “invalided.” Instead of a cut hand, Terri made Jackie’s injury sound as though she had old-age arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair, and sweet young Billy Montgomery, out of the goodness of his heart, was wheeling her around.
Terri put her hand on the handle of the car, but then she quickly grabbed Jackie’s arm and pulled her away where her son couldn’t hear them. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that man you have in your life. You won’t be able to keep a secret from me.”
“I’m keeping no secrets from you,” Jackie said angrily—and honestly.
Terri looked as though she wanted to weep. Jackie was the highlight of her life, and she could not figure out what she had done to offend her. Maybe Jackie was telling the truth and didn’t have a man in her life. Maybe Terri had read the signs wrong. Maybe Jackie’s sudden, inexplicable hostility had arisen because Terri had assumed something that wasn’t true and now Jackie was embarrassed that there was no man in her life.
“You do remember that I told you about Edward Browne? He’s been asking about you again,” she said softly, glancing at her big son, sulking in the car. “He’s asked about you several times. He really does like you, and he’s a great catch.”
So many emotions were raging through Jackie that she couldn’t speak, so Terri seemed to take her silence as encouragement.
“He’s a very nice man, Jackie,” Terri said persuasively. “He’s about fifty-five years old, a widower. His children are grown, so you wouldn’t have any problems there. Stepchildren can be a handful, you know. He’s quite well off, so he could support you after you quit flying.”
Jackie felt that Terri meant, “When you come to your senses, decide to grow up, and quit fooling with those silly airplanes, there will be a man to take care of you.”
Terri didn’t have any idea of the thoughts going through Jackie’s head. To her, the prospect of Edward Browne was wonderful. The man owned every shoe store within a hundred-mile radius, and he had a lovely house furnished with antiques he had inherited from his parents. The thought of a steady, reliable man, of a house that was well cared for and orderly, was Terri’s idea of heaven. She no longer wanted excitement in her life. The drunken rages of her husband and the bloody fights between him and their sons were more excitement than she’d ever wanted. In Terri’s mind, happiness was buying something pretty and fragile and feeling sure that it wasn’t going to be broken within twenty-four hours.
“Edward Browne is such a nice man,” Terri encouraged. “He’s lived in Chandler for fifteen years, and everyone has only praise for him. Not a word of scandal. His wife was lovely, and they seemed to be very much in love. He was devastated when she died two years ago, and I understand he’s very lonely. Every unmarried woman in Chandler from twenty to fifty has been after him. He’ll go out with them now and then, but he never goes out with the same woman more than twice. Yet he’s asked me about you several times. I told him he should call you, but he said that he wants to know you’d welcome him. I think he’s rather shy, and, Jackie, you know that you can be intimidating. I think he considers you a celebrity, so he’s a bit afraid of calling you without prior permission.”
Terri was looking at Jackie intently. “Can I tell him it’s okay to call you?”
“I…I don’t know,” Jackie said honestly. Why did life have to be so complicated?
As far as Jackie could tell, there was no way to get rid of Terri except to agree to allow this man, Edward Browne, to call her. And why shouldn’t Jackie go out with this very, very appropriate man? Was she engaged to someone else? Even dating someone else? In love with another man? No, she was not. She was completely and absolutely free. And besides, her attraction to William was probably about ninety percent loneliness. She was used to being surrounded by people, and now she was suddenly so alone that probably any man, no matter what age, would look good to her.
“Tell him to call me,” Jackie said with some conviction—not much, but some.
Terri hugged her friend and then got into the rusty old car beside her angry son, who sped away so fast that flying gravel peppered Jackie’s legs.
Once Terri was gone, Jackie braced herself to face William. She didn’t like the fact that he’d so blatantly announced his presence to Terri. Had Terri been a little more astute she might have figured out that Jackie and William were…well, were whatever they were.
In the house, she found William sitting on the couch, calmly reading the paper. When he looked up at her he seemed to expect her to sit by him and finish reading the comics, just as though Terri’s visit had never happened.
“I want to talk to you,” she said sternly, the door barely closed behind her.
“What have I done now?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
She wasn’t going to treat
this matter lightly. Didn’t he realize what kind of rumors could be spread? “You may get away with playing the little boy with Terri, but it won’t work with me.” She had every intention of berating him for endangering her reputation by implying that he was living with her when he came into the room asking about his shoes. But to her horror, that was not what came out of her mouth.
“How could you have allowed Terri to treat you like a child?” she demanded.
William blinked at her a couple of times. “Is that what you’re upset about?” He put his newspaper back in front of his face. “Older people always treat younger ones like children. Forever. They never stop, no matter how old you get.”
It seemed to her that William meant to end the discussion there, but Jackie suddenly became very angry. “Older!” she sputtered. “What does that mean? Terri is exactly the same age as I am. Actually, she’s three months younger than I am.”
Obviously unperturbed, William turned a page of the newspaper. “Some people are old at twenty, and some are young at sixty.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?”
To further her anger, William didn’t bother to answer. He just kept reading that blasted newspaper, his face hidden from her view. It was difficult, if not impossible, to have a serious argument about one of life’s more profound issues with oneself. From the very beginning it seemed to her that William had failed to take this age difference seriously. He acted as though it mattered not at all.
“What did you do to Terri’s son?” she asked, trying another way to get a reaction out of him.
“Did my best to teach him some manners, something he needed to be taught.”
Part of Jackie wanted to thank him for interfering, and part of her was more than a little annoyed. Every woman wanted to be a beautiful princess whose honor was fought for by a handsome young man, who, of course, later turned out to be a prince. But in the real world Jackie didn’t like the implication that she belonged to William and therefore he had the right to do whatever violent thing he had done to Terri’s son.
Princess or no, William’s lack of reaction was taking the wind out of her sails. She wanted something from him, but she didn’t know what. “There’s a man in town who wants to go out with me,” she said, trying to sound as though this were an ordinary occurrence, but even as she spoke she knew she was trying to make William jealous. When he didn’t look around his paper, she continued. “Terri says he’s awfully nice.” Warming to her subject, she fairly purred as she looked at the newspaper William held in front of his face. “Edward Browne. Do you know him? Terri says he’s a wonderful man. Older, experienced. He was married for years, so he’s already broken in, so to speak. Must know a lot about women.”
She stood where she was, waiting for some reaction from him. After a while, he slowly folded the section of newspaper he was reading, neatly put it on top of the other sections—one could hardly tell that the paper had been opened—and opened another section.
“I think you ought to go out with him,” he said from behind the paper.
“Wh…what?”
“Mr. Browne is a nice man. My mother likes him a lot, and my dad too.”
“You want me to go out with him?” Even to her own ears there was disbelief in her voice.
“I think you should.” He looked at her from around the paper. “Really, Jackie, you need to get out more. You can’t just go from Charley to me. You need to look at the choices out there.”
She didn’t know whether that statement made her angry or just plain confused. “For your information, I’ve known lots of men besides you and Charley.”
“Mmmm,” he said. “Fancy foreign fellers.”
“Fancy…?” Those were not William’s words. It was almost as though he was quoting someone else. “What in the world is wrong with you?”
“I have no idea what you mean. You said Terri suggested you go out with Edward Browne, and I agree that you should. Have I done something wrong? I assume you do want to go out with Mr. Browne or you wouldn’t have brought it up, would you?”
What could she say? That she wanted to make him jealous? “Yes, of course it’s a good idea. I’ll…I’ll tell Terri.”
Before she could form another thought, the telephone rang. Listlessly she answered it. Terri was calling to tell her that she had just “happened” to see Edward Browne on the street, and they had started talking, and, well, it seemed that Edward would love to take Jackie to dinner tonight. Would that be all right with her? Terri asked this question as though she were asking Jackie if she’d like to be given a couple of million dollars.
Jackie refused to think about what she was doing. Yes, it would be all right, she told Terri. She’d meet Edward at the Conservatory, Chandler’s nicest restaurant at eight o’clock tonight.
“Oh, and, Jackie,” Terri said, “wear that beige silk dress of yours. The one with the gold buttons.”
“I thought I’d wear the coveralls I wear when I work on the planes,” Jackie said with great sarcasm. She’d had her fill of people implying that she didn’t know how to behave, how to dress, how to run her own life. Immediately she felt guilty for speaking to Terri so waspishly. “I’ll be there, and I’ll look as respectable as I can.”
“All right,” Terri said timidly, knowing that she had again done something wrong. But this time she felt that the end justified the means, because she knew that Jackie and Edward were perfect for each other and would fall madly in love with each other. Someday Jackie would thank her for having introduced them.
Putting down the phone, Jackie glanced at William, his face hidden behind the newspaper. “I have a date tonight,” she said and cursed her heart for leaping into her throat. She very stupidly had a vision of William throwing his paper aside, sweeping her into his arms, and telling her she mustn’t go out with any other man.
But nothing happened. In fact, William’s only comment was an uncaring grunt, so Jackie, her shoulders drooping, left the room. She missed seeing William ball up the section of paper he was reading and throw it into the fireplace so forcefully that he displaced a log, which made the front log roll onto the floor and nearly set the rug on fire. Jackie missed seeing William stamping the flames out of the rug, the floor, the hearth, and four magazines with a fury that would have wrecked a less solidly built floor. An hour or so later, when she returned, dressed for her date, William was quietly still reading the paper, as though Jackie’s leaving on a date meant nothing to him.
Jackie had to admit that, if judged by looks alone, Edward Browne was everything a woman could want in a man: tall, solidly muscular, with just enough fat on him to let a woman know that he would enjoy good cooking, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped. He had dark hair with just a bit of gray at the temples, and beautiful dark eyes. Although he was very handsome, there was a quietness about him that said he had no idea that he was attractive.
No wonder the women of Chandler are killing themselves over him, Jackie thought.
“Miss O’Neill,” he said, extending his hand. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you accepted my invitation. I have been an admirer of yours for years.”
“Not too many years, I hope,” she answered, eyes sparkling, but he looked puzzled and didn’t seem to understand her sense of humor.
Graciously, with the good manners that he’d probably had all his life, he held out a chair for her. There was a rather long, awkward silence as they looked at the menu. Then Edward competently ordered a bottle of French wine.
Once the orders were placed, Jackie had to keep herself from looking at her watch. This was going to be a very long evening. She hoped that William was wondering where she was and what she was doing. Sternly she reminded herself that it didn’t matter what little Billy Montgomery was doing or thinking. He was only a temporary part of her life.
“The entire ritual of dating is deplorable, isn’t it?” Edward said, looking at her across the candlelight. “It takes two perfectly ordinary people and makes them nervous
and uncertain. It puts them in an impossible situation and asks them to discover good qualities about each other.”
Jackie smiled. “Yes, I find it quite awful.”
His eyes were twinkling. “Has Terri told you as much about me as she’s told me about you?”
At this Jackie laughed. The FBI didn’t know as much about criminals as Terri had told her on the phone about Edward Browne, and Terri had emphasized repeatedly how interested Edward was in Jackie. “I think he’s been in love with you from afar for a long time,” Terri said. “He knows a lot about you and has asked me thousands of questions.”
“And no doubt you’ve made me out to be a saint,” Jackie said.
“Did you expect me to tell him about your bad points?” she asked, then said something that made Jackie groan: “He loved seeing my scrapbook about you.”
So now Jackie wondered exactly what Terri had told this man. “Yes. Terri could not stop talking about you. The only thing she left out was whether or not you have any tattoos.”
Again Edward looked puzzled. “No, none,” he said seriously. “Oh, I see. You’re referring to the fact that I was in the navy.”
Jackie was referring to nothing at all, just trying to inject a little levity into the situation, but she had not succeeded. The arrival of the salads kept her from having to explain.
“I guess we can skip the talk of our early lives,” he said. “Of course with you it’s easier since you are a world renowned figure.”
Jackie hated it when people said that. It made her sound as though she didn’t need what other humans needed: love, companionship, warmth.
For a moment Edward toyed with his salad, and Jackie watched him. She didn’t know him at all, of course, and she had accepted his invitation in a fit of pique, but as she looked at him, she thought, This is the type of man I should marry. This man was perfect: perfect age, background, education. This was a man she could introduce to the world and everyone would say, “What a wonderful man your husband is!”
The Invitation Page 13
