In the kitchen, minding the broken glass, Annie looked in the freezer and realized she had no ice cubes. She remembered now that she had been in a hurry that morning when she emptied the trays and had meant to refill them when she got home. She rummaged around for something she could use instead. She had a bag of frozen cauliflower and a bag of frozen broccoli. Those were going to have to do. She grabbed the vegetables and a couple of dish towels, and ran back outside.
Tony was gone. She looked around and saw him walking up the street toward Wedgewood. Andrew was sitting up now, and when Annie got to him, she wrapped a towel around one of the packages of vegetables and handed it to him. He thanked her and held the package against the left side of his face, over his eye, wincing as he did so.
“Annie,” Ian said quietly, “why don’t you take Dervla upstairs and help her change. I’m going to run Andrew over to see Doc Witham to make sure he’s all right.”
Annie nodded and looked into Ian’s eyes, saying “thank you” without speaking a word. She helped Dervla to her feet, and steadied her as they walked back toward the house. Annie picked up the hem of the wedding dress, but she was more concerned about keeping Dervla from tripping on it than she was about the dress. Inside Grey Gables, as she and Dervla climbed the staircase, Annie heard car doors slam and the sound of Ian’s car as he started it and pulled out of the drive.
Dervla still had not said a word. Annie wanted to ask her what had happened, but it seemed better to help get her out of the wedding dress first, and perhaps fix her a cup of tea. Then she could try to get to the bottom of what had caused the fight.
As Annie helped Dervla out of the dress, she saw the veil and gloves lying on the bed. It was as she had hoped—one of them had brought the veil and gloves upstairs and had had the foresight to close the door. Annie put them away in the box Molly had provided and placed it on a shelf in the closet.
When Annie had finished putting away the dress, she offered Dervla some tea and something to eat, but she refused, saying she just wanted to lie down for a while. Her eyes still brimmed with tears, and Annie thought it was best to let her cry if she needed to. There would be enough time for talking later.
Annie changed her clothes into something more suitable for a late Saturday afternoon at home and cleaned up the broken glass in the kitchen. A short time later, Ian called her on his cell phone from the hospital to let her know that Andrew was going to be all right. Doc Witham, who had been a trusted family doctor in Stony Point for almost forty years, had insisted that Andrew go to the emergency room for X-rays; fortunately, there were no broken bones and no sign of a concussion. It was lucky for Andrew—and for Tony.
Ian told Annie what happened while she went to fetch the ice. He said that first he had asked Tony what had gotten into him. Ian admitted, “I may not have said that in the friendliest of terms.” Tony was apparently still angry over something, Ian didn’t know what, and just said, “None of your business,” and then got up and walked away.
Ian then asked Andrew if he felt well enough to sit up and wanted to ask him how the fight had started, but upon seeing Andrew’s condition, he thought it was better to save it for later. It was only after Andrew was given the all-clear by the doctor that Ian asked Andrew any questions.
“According to Andrew,” said Ian, “he was standing in front of Dervla, positioning her for the portrait, turning her face for better lighting of her profile when Tony just attacked him out of nowhere. I had to ask him if he wanted to press charges and offered to call Chief Edwards, but Andrew said no. Like I said, it was lucky for Tony that Andrew wasn’t more seriously hurt.”
“I don’t understand why Tony was even at Grey Gables,” Annie said. “He wasn’t supposed to be back from Boston until Monday.” She paused and then said, “I watched Andrew work with Dervla before I went up to change for our … date. I think I understand how someone might look at that situation from a distance and think it was more intimate than it actually was.”
“I never thought of Tony Palmer as a hothead, but even so, his behavior was so far out of line. Even I could see how distraught Dervla was, but Tony never acknowledged her before he left to see if she was all right. I’d never treat the woman I loved in such a manner,” Ian said.
Annie smiled, and was glad they were talking over the phone and not face to face. “Dervla is still up in her room. I can’t persuade her to come downstairs, and she said she doesn’t want me to bring anything up to her. I’m worried.”
“Just give her some time,” said Ian. “I’m sure that things will look better in the morning.”
“I hope so,” said Annie.
“Andrew asked me to bring him back to Grey Gables when he’s finished here so he can collect his gear and get his car, though I’m not sure he should be driving. How would you feel about driving him back downtown? Then I could drive you home.”
“I’d rather not leave Dervla alone,” said Annie, “but I guess it won’t take too long. I’ll just have to let her know that I’ll be gone for a little while.”
14
Annie was watching out the window for Ian to return with Andrew when she saw Alice’s flashy red convertible pull into the drive at the carriage house. Annie went outside and walked the short distance across the lawn to Alice’s home. Alice saw her and waved, and then leaned against the car waiting to talk to her.
“Where have you been all day?” asked Annie.
“District meeting in Portland for Divine Décor,” Alice answered, yawning. “I had to leave at dark o’clock this morning to get there for the eight o’clock meeting. I’m not used to early hours. I’m beat. What’s been going on here today?”
“It’s a long story, which I intend to tell you in full, but Ian and Andrew are going to be here shortly, and I have to drive Andrew to Maplehurst Inn.”
At that comment, Alice’s eyebrows raised and her mouth opened as if she was about to ask a question. Annie saw the look and raised her hand, “No questions yet. But I have a favor to ask. I know you’re tired, but would you come over and stay with Dervla? She’s upstairs in her room, and she’s upset, and I don’t really want to leave her alone. I don’t think she’ll be coming out, but if she does, I want her to know that someone is there.”
Alice looked at Annie expression and simply said, “Of course. Just let me change, and I’ll be right over.”
Annie gave Alice a quick hug and said, “You’re the best. Thanks, Alice. I’ll see you at the house.”
Alice appeared at Annie’s door ten minutes later, dressed in a yellow T-shirt that had “I ♥ Maine” written in blue letters across the front, cotton pajama bottoms, and flip-flops. She carried her project bag with her, saying, “If Dervla’s upstairs, I’m going to try to get some work done on her present for the shower. I can stash it away if I hear her coming down the steps.”
“Thanks again for coming over. There isn’t time for all the details right now; I’m not even sure what exactly happened myself, but just so you know the basics—Andrew and Tony had a fight in my front yard this afternoon. Ian took Andrew to the hospital for X-rays. He’s all right, but we’re a little worried about him driving, so I’m going to drive Andrew’s car back to Maplehurst, and then Ian will bring me home.”
“That’s really all you’re going to tell me?” asked Alice.
Annie heard the sound of Ian’s car pulling into the driveway. “Yep—but only for the time being. I will definitely fill you in when I get home. I may understand this all better by then myself. Help yourself to something to eat and drink. You know where everything is.” And with that Annie stepped outside.
The sun was low in the sky, its angle casting long shadows, and Annie imagined that they made the familiar scene look very surreal after the violence she had witnessed there earlier. She wanted to scrub that image from her mind, but it was hard to forget. What should have been a fine summer evening was tainted with the aftereffects of the fight. Andrew and Ian had just gotten out of the car. Andrew was walking
slowly, as if every move was painful. The red splotch she had seen on his face earlier had turned into a real shiner that encircled his left eye. It looked like he had a couple of stitches in his bottom lip.
“Andrew, what can I do to help you?” said Annie.
“I’ll need to straighten up my work area and put away my supplies. When that’s done, I’d appreciate help getting the car loaded up. There are a couple of canvases, and they’ll still be wet, so we’ll have to be careful with those—I’ll lay them in the back of the car myself if you don’t mind. You may want to collect your sheet and the cooler. Thanks so much for thinking of all those things, by the way. It was really helpful—especially the camp stools—it gave Dervla a chance to rest now and then.” He paused for a moment. “Is she all right?”
“I think she’s still in shock. She’s been in her room ever since you left, and won’t come out. I’ve offered to take her something to eat or drink, but she’s refusing everything. Maybe a good night’s sleep will make a difference.” Annie wanted to ask Andrew more questions, but she thought it wasn’t the right time, so she set to work, picking up the sheet to shake off the grass.
Ian grabbed the cooler and stools and said, “I’ll just run these up to the house.”
“Alice is inside,” said Annie. “She’s going to stay at Grey Gables while we take Andrew home, just so that Dervla won’t be alone.”
Ian just smiled and said, “Good idea.”
Annie gave the sheet a couple of shakes and started to fold it up. She took a step back and nearly fell when she stepped on a small object that threw her off balance. She leaned over to look and found a small, green velvet–covered jewelry box. Curious, she opened it to see a gorgeous engagement ring. In the center was a sparkling clear diamond and around it, small petal-shaped green emeralds. She took it out of the box to look inside to see if the ring had been engraved—it had. It said simply, “Mavourneen”—the Irish Gaelic word Dervla had said meant “my beloved,” and the name of the place where she and Tony had met. Annie put the ring back in the box.
She walked over to show Andrew. He was intent on putting his supplies away and didn’t realize she was standing beside him. She didn’t say anything at first, but just held the opened box in front of him and watched his expression as it came into his field of vision. He was puzzled. “Beautiful ring. Where did it come from?” he asked.
“I found it in the grass just now. It must have fallen out of Tony’s pocket during the fight,” said Annie.
“You think he was coming over to formally propose to Dervla when he attacked me?” asked Andrew.
“I’m not sure what was in his head. The fact that he had it with him indicates that must have been his plan. I wish I could understand what happened,” said Annie.
“Well, if you figure it out, please tell me,” said Andrew. “I was just working, moving Dervla to a different position—I heard him shout something, and then he was there in my face. I don’t even know what he said really. He knocked me back and started swinging. It was like he was crazed. He was so angry.”
Ian walked out of the house and joined them. Annie showed him the ring. He raised his eyebrows and said, “The plot thickens.”
* * * *
After all of Andrew’s supplies and canvases were loaded in his SUV, Annie drove him downtown. He insisted that he needed to unload his supplies, or the paintings at the very least. She parked in front of Dress to Impress since Andrew had rented space above the clothing store to use as his studio.
Andrew got out and unlocked a side door that was next to the store’s front. Behind the door was a small vestibule. Across from the door to the right there was a freight elevator; to the left of that there was a flight of stairs that bordered a brick-sided wall. Andrew grabbed one of the paintings from the back of the SUV and headed inside and up the steps. Annie thought he seemed to be moving a lot slower than he usually did.
Ian had parked behind them, and from Andrew’s car he picked up the small folding table and easel to carry up, while Annie grabbed the vinyl-sided bag and another carrying case that Andrew used for supplies. They followed him up the stairs, matching their pace to his. When they reached the top, there was a landing with another door that Andrew unlocked.
Inside, Annie saw it was one large open room with long blind-covered windows at the front and back. Andrew flipped a switch and the entire room was bathed in light.
It was just what she expected an artist’s studio to look like. There were various easels and painted canvases sitting around, and there were several long tables—one was covered with sketches and photographs, another had stacks of books and writing materials—for research, she supposed. There were shelves full of books and other shelves full of art supplies. It looked chaotic, but not in an unpleasant way. It was like a great creative spirit had been let loose. Annie thought it was wonderful.
Andrew placed the painting he had carried up on a ledge along the side of the room. “I’ll get the other one in just a minute,” he said, leaning against a table for a moment.
“Please let me get it, Andrew,” said Ian. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“OK,” said Andrew. “I must be getting old—I feel absolutely done in.”
“That’s what happens when an older man gets involved in a brawl,” teased Ian. “I’ll be right back up.”
While Ian went to get the second painting, Annie looked at the painting Andrew had just set on the ledge. With all the excitement of the afternoon, Annie hadn’t looked at the canvases to see what he had done that day.
This painting showed Dervla as Annie had seen her that morning: She looked toward the ocean to the right, her face in profile with the sun lighting up her complexion in pinks and peaches. Her long, dark hair, with highlights of red, hung down over her shoulders, and the veil seemed to billow out slightly in the wind. She held a single pink rose in her gloved hand as it rested on the side of the dress’s skirt. Grey Gables sat in the background to the left, looking its best, like it was brand-new and had never been in disrepair.
Somehow, Andrew had captured the dress, gloves, and veil, not photographically, but in such a way that the mind filled in details easily. Annie could almost swear that she could count the stitches on the crochet. There were multiple layers of different shades of green in the grass and the leaves on the trees, and the sliver of ocean was deep blue with peaks of white on the choppy waves. The painting conveyed movement and vivacity.
Ian returned with the second painting and set it next to the first one on the ledge. While he went to look at the other paintings in the room, Annie turned her attention to that one. She almost gasped at the contrast she saw there. It was more than the absence of the veil and gloves, and the change in Dervla’s hairstyle. The model faced the artist this time. Annie said to herself “model” instead of “Dervla” because she no longer felt that it was Dervla, but some other person’s face that looked out at her. This woman’s hair and eyes were darker than Dervla’s, but somehow the face was familiar, as if she’d seen her before. The expression on her face was solemn, but not sad.
The wedding dress was different too. Whereas the crocheted trim on the dress was clearly visible on the first painting, it was completely absent from this one. The high collar stood bare with no embellishment on it or below it, and the cuffs were the same plain fabric as the dress. The woman clasped her hands together in front, close to her body, her fingers interlaced; Annie wasn’t sure if it was an anxious or pleading gesture, or if it indicated a posture of prayer. It seemed to be somewhere in between.
Grey Gables took on a different face too. Instead of benignly sitting off to one side, Andrew had painted it directly behind the woman so that it seemed to loom over her menacingly. Gone were the cheerful colors of the first painting. All the tones of this painting were gray, as if a fine film of silver dust overlayed the scene. Instead of motion and life, it was like a moment caught in time where change could never happen.
Annie shivered involuntarily
. Ian was on the other side of the room, but Andrew was watching Annie.
“Slightly different in feel, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.
Annie looked at him, but couldn’t seem to find words to speak.
“I was going to show this to you later, but I think now might be the time.”
With that, he walked to the table where Annie had laid his vinyl-sided bag and reached inside. On the day of the storm, in the library, he had removed his drawing pad and pencils from the same bag, but this time, he removed an old leather-covered folder. When he opened it and handed it to her, Annie could see that it wasn’t just a folder, but a double-sided picture frame. Within each frame was an antique black-and-white photograph.
She studied each picture with intense interest. In the left-hand photograph there was a round-cheeked baby with a cherub’s mouth, the picture of health, propped up against a pillow and dressed in a long, gleaming white christening gown. The baby’s lace-trimmed bonnet had been carefully placed on the blanket next to it, and the gown was arranged to show its finery. The baby had a swirl of black hair on its head and curious dark eyes that stared at something beside the camera; its delicate fingers were curled into two tiny fists.
In the facing frame was a photograph of a couple on their wedding day. The man was obviously older than his bride, his neatly trimmed beard streaked with white. He sat in a straight-back, wooden chair; his own back was equally straight. The chair was slightly turned so that his body faced toward the left of the photograph. He was dressed in a captain’s uniform—a double-breasted jacket with metal buttons and the insignia of his rank on the sleeves, over a starched white shirt with a stand-up collar; around his neck he had tied a dark cravat. His captain’s hat was perched upon his knee, and his highly polished black shoes glinted in the photographer’s lights.
The man looked at the camera with steady eyes and an unsmiling mouth. People usually didn’t smile for photographs in those days; part of that had to do with the amount of time the camera’s lens had to be left open for an exposure. Nevertheless, Annie had the impression that it was not his habit to smile much on any occasion. His skin appeared to be slightly weathered from contact with the sun and wind on the sea, but there were no prominent laugh lines in the outer corners of his eyes. While his countenance was not forbidding, it was, at least, stern, and she had the sense that he would not be a man who was easily swayed, either by circumstance or emotion.
The Wedding Dress Page 15
