It's Only Make Believe

by Roseanne Dowell

  He put his hands on her shoulders, kissed her cheek, as if he were afraid to do more. “I have to leave. You have no idea how it pains me to do so.” He turned her toward the closet, gave her a little push and swatted her behind. Hurry and get dressed, I’ll take you back to your car.”

  Later, she arrived back home just as Louise was getting ready to leave. “Louise, I’m glad I caught you, I want to talk to you.”

  Louise held Mikayla and lowered her eyes. “Yes, Miss.”

  Michele walked toward the kitchen. “Come in here, would you like a cup of coffee, soda?” She took a cup out of the cupboard and poured coffee. “Anna, something smells delicious.” The aroma of roast chicken filled the air.

  “No thank you, Miss.” Louise’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  Michele took her coffee to the table and motioned for Louise to take a seat. “Louise...” Michele wasn’t sure where or how to start. She looked at the frightened girl and felt an overwhelming sense of compassion. “Louise, for starters, please quit calling me Miss. I’m Michele, okay?” She hoped her smile reassured the girl, but could tell from Louise’s face she felt uncomfortable. “Okay, skip that, Miss will be fine. Louise, I want to help you. Mr. Lawson and I both do.” Shock registered on Louise’s face. “When he comes home we’re going to figure something out for you and Mark. In the meantime do you have enough money, do you need anything?”

  “No, Miss, I’m fine. Mark provides for me and the baby and the job here helps.” Tears filled Louise’s eyes as she spoke. “But I don’t understand, what can you and Mr. Lawson do? Mark’s parents will never consent to our marriage and Mark won’t go against them. Even if he would I won’t.”

  “I’m not sure.” Michele stood. She didn’t want to detain Louise any longer than necessary. The girl wiggled her foot. Any more nervous and she’d jump off her chair. Obviously, she wished the conversation was over.

  After Louise left and Michele finished dinner, she took her coffee into the living room, curled up in a chair and picked up a book. Laying the book across her lap, she tried to formulate a plan. There had to be a way, maybe if she appealed to Jane O’Neil. Surely, a mother’s love for her son took precedence over social status. After all, wasn’t it the most important thing a mother wished was for her children - to be happy. Mikayla was her granddaughter, what mother could give that up?

  Right like her mother cared about her happiness. And Brad’s mother didn’t care either when they insisted on this marriage? Even her grandmother didn’t care and hadn’t their grandparents forced their own children into arranged marriages. Social standing meant everything to these people. She stood and wandered around the room, moving things from here to there. Things purchased by either her mother or Brad’s. Things no one cared if either she or Brad liked, decorating the house to suit their own tastes and flair. Surely, her mother knew her better than that. Didn’t she? Didn’t her mother ever listen, or pay attention?

  Maybe Jane wouldn’t care about her son’s happiness either. Standing in the society came first. The ‘right’ marriage to the ‘right’ person. If love happened to come with it, then good for them, if not oh well, all they asked for was discretion. Michele shivered at her own thoughts. She wanted more than discretion from Brad. She wanted faithfulness. Wanted love. The vision of Ruby’s face entered her thoughts, and she tried to push it away.

  Ruby had been waiting for Brad when they arrived at Michele’s car. After throwing a victorious look toward Michele, she leaned over and kissed Brad’s cheek. And he didn’t seem to mind. The picture brought tears to Michele’s eyes even now. Fresh from her bed, he had looked so happy to see Ruby. Something Ruby said had made him laugh. The last thing Michele remembered was Brad throwing his head back in laughter and Ruby’s smug smile and nod. She’d been so hurt and angry that she threw her car in gear and sped off, peeling rubber.

  She stood squeezing a small gaudy abstract sculpture she’d picked up off the mantle. Turning it over in her hand, she tried to figure out what it represented. Unsure of its purpose, she set it down and picked it up again. Whatever it was it had to go. In fact, everything had to go. She went in search of boxes. It was time to pack this stuff up and get rid of it. Surely Brad didn’t hold an attachment to any of it. He probably never looked at any of it. Just in case the garage would be a good place to store it. She found some boxes in the storage room and began packing up all the gaudy knick-knacks that the decorator had placed in strategic locations about the room. Though expensive, it wasn’t her taste and she seldom recommended them to her clients. Unless they insisted, but so far she’d been fortunate not to have one that didn’t like what she suggested. It was important, however, to bring the owner’s taste into their residence. Otherwise, she wouldn’t get many referrals. Making sure the owner’s taste reflected in the rooms was important.

  When she finished the living room, she went into the dining room, den and library. The only item she kept was a brass kaleidoscope on a stand. She moved it from the den to the fireplace in the library. After taping and marking the boxes, she stacked them in the corner of the garage.

  Satisfied, she picked up her book again and spent the remainder of the evening reading. The phone rang about midnight, jolting her out of the trance of the novel. Stretching, she looked at the clock and picked up the phone. Brad’s voice on the other end cheered her, and heat burned her cheeks as memory of their unexpected afternoon returned to her. His voice was low, sexy.

  “Hey, I just happened to think about this afternoon and had the irresistible urge to talk to you. I didn’t wake you did I?”

  “Hmm, no, you didn’t wake me.” Michele leaned back in the chair. Just the sound of his voice sent her insides reeling. “When are you coming home?” Dare she tell him she missed him? No better to leave it unsaid. She could tell he’d been drinking, though not drunk.

  “I have a late business meeting, but just wanted to call and say hello.”

  “Come on, Brad, we’re going to be late. Edgehurst insists on promptness.”

  Michele sat forward in her chair at the sound of Ruby’s husky voice in the background. Her voice in Brad’s room destroyed the mood. Ruby was always there, ready to surface, ready to remind her she was with Brad. She’d spent more time with Brad since they were married than Michele did, and Michele resented it.

  “I have to go, Edgehurst is waiting, and we can’t have that. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we’ll talk about that little problem, okay?” Brad’s voice changed.

  Her own disappointment must have showed through her tone when she said okay because Brad’s voice reflected something like annoyance when he said goodbye. So ended an almost perfect day. She decided to go to bed, not that there was much hope of sleeping with visions of Ruby and Brad playing in her mind.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The next morning, Michele awoke earlier than normal. Stretching her arms, she sat on the side of the bed. Only seven o’clock, why was she awake so early? After going to the bathroom, she decided to lie back down. Hugging the pillow to her, she thought of Brad and their afternoon of lovemaking. He was a passionate, considerate lover, and she hugged the pillow tighter, remembering the abandon with which they made love. She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep, content. She imagined the warmth of his arms around her as she held the pillow close. The alarm woke her an hour later from her dream. She sat up smiling. Somehow, she was going to make this marriage work.

  After her shower, she went down to breakfast. Anna stood at the stove flipping an omelet. The smell of fresh brewed coffee mingled with onions and green pepper made her mouth water. She poured her coffee and carried it to the table when the door suddenly burst open. Louise stood framed in the doorway, her brow scrunched. She held a piece of paper. “Louise, what’s wrong?” Michele immediately thought of the baby, but the anger Louise displayed couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the child.

  “Miss, I...” Tears filled Louise’s eyes when she tried to talk. She held the paper out
to her.

  Michele took it and saw the O’Neil family crest on the top of the letterhead. She read the letter to herself than aloud, so disbelieving its content.

  “Dear Miss Ramerez,” Michele read. “I am aware you have not severed your relationship with my son. I wish to inform you that if you continue this relationship I will have you brought up on charges of harassment. Your continued residence in this area, and working for a prominent family, is an embarrassment to us.

  However, if you agree to leave the city and find work elsewhere I will pay you one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. You have until Saturday to make this decision. I assure you I can, and will, have your child removed from you if you go against my wishes.”

  Michele let her hand fall to her side, bewildered and shocked that anyone dared threaten and bribe another person this way. Although, the bribe shouldn’t surprise her. After all, these people had a phobia that everyone was after their money. Patrick O’Neil had just about enough influence in the community to pull off something like this. Michele looked at Louise who stared at her with a pathetic look. Disillusionment and fear filled her dark eyes. Eyes that no longer held a mysterious secret. Michele led the girl to a chair and poured her a cup of coffee. The omelet remained untouched on the table. She tried to think, but frustration welled up in her and turned to tears. How could any parent act this way? She didn’t understand it.

  Think, she had to think. She paced the room. Where was Brad when she needed him? Surely, he’d come up with a solution. Today was Thursday. Patrick had given Louise until Saturday to make a decision. How mighty big of him. Anger replaced her frustration. How dared this man play God and interfere in the lives of others?

  “Louise, Mr. Lawson will be home tomorrow.” She hoped her voice sounded calm, because her whole body shook with anger. “We’ll come up with a plan. I promise.” She had no idea what they were going to do, or even if they could do anything, but she knew they had to try. “I have to go to work now, but we’ll talk later okay?”

  Louise sat unmoving on the chair. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Can he do that, Miss, take my baby?”

  “I promise he won’t take your baby. The Lawson name holds a lot more influence in this community then the O’Neil one does. Trust me on this. You will not lose Mikayla. I have to run, but I’ll be back early, and we’ll talk.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Michele drove to the office, wondering how she and Brad were going to solve this latest development. She’d enlist her parents and grandparents if she had to. They were partly at fault here, hiring Louise like they did. But, would they help? Were they as big snobs as the O’Neil, believing that classes shouldn’t cross? Still, her grandparents hadn’t always had money, had come by it the hard way. Maybe her grandfather would help. Michele often thought he didn’t share the views of the ‘elite’. He often did as he wanted and flaunted the wealthy snobs. Because of his standing and influence, he got away with it and people shook their heads and laughed at the eccentric old Daniel Markey. Surely, he’d help her. Hadn’t he often said how he married for love? He and her grandmother grew up together. They’d been best friends. She smiled remembering the story he often told with a gleam in his eye. “I knew that first day of school when I met Sophie. Right after she sucker punched me for teasing her and pulling her pigtails, that I was going to marry her.”

  Michele pulled into the parking lot at work and hurried into the office. Sarah looked up with a worried expression.

  “Oh Michele.” Sarah began as soon as Michele opened the door. “I talked to Mark last night and his father did a horrible thing. He’s beside himself and threatened to run away with Louise, but she won’t agree.”

  Michele sighed, walked to the coffee pot. Looked like it was going to be one of those days. She turned around and sat next to Sarah. “Okay, Sarah, calm down. I know about the letter. Louise showed it to me.”

  “What are you going to do about it? You have to help them, I promised Mark.”

  Michele looked at her best friend. How dared she make such a promise? Because she knew her so well. That didn’t change the fact. Sometimes Sarah’s assumption annoyed her. Michele hated anyone taking her for granted. Sarah took a few liberties with their friendship from time to time, and this was one of them. She wondered sometimes at the faith Sarah put in their friendship.

  “Do you think I’m a miracle worker?” Her voice reflected her irritation and the look on Sarah’s face fell and turned red.

  “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have promised without talking to you first, but...” Sarah wrung her hands as she stood and paced the tiny office. “You have to see him, Shell, he’s beside himself.” Sarah put her hands on Michele’s shoulders, her eyes pleading as she stared into Michele’s. “He doesn’t care about the money, but Louise refuses to marry him under these conditions. Mark said she’s terrified that Patrick will take the baby.”

  Michele let out a long sigh. “I know. Louise showed me the letter. I wish I had the answer, I really do.” Michele went to the coffee pot and poured another cup, took a sip and looked at Sarah. “I have to talk to Brad I don’t know what to say or how to help. Maybe the best thing would be for Louise and Mark to elope. The only thing Patrick could do then would be to disown him, disinherit him. That’s not the worst thing in the world.”

  She sat in one of the chairs across from Sarah’s desk. Her head hurt. Already the morning held too many pressures. “Mark’s a smart man. He’ll be successful on his own he doesn’t need ‘Daddy’s money’.” The remark sparked something in her about why she and Brad had married, wasn’t it for the money. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Hers and Brad’s situation was different.

  Or was it? Didn’t Brad marry her to satisfy his parents and grandparents to stay in the will? Isn’t that why she married Brad? She got up and went into her office. “I’ll figure something out.” So what if the Ashcrofts took over the business. Why was that so terrible? She didn’t want it. Wasn’t interested in it, never was. Never would be. She foolishly married Brad to save the business for the family. For Brad, actually. He was the one working there. What good was it doing her? Granted, she’d get half of the profits eventually, when Brad took over. But money didn’t matter to her She had her own business. Brad would make it on his own. She should have stood her ground. Now she had this problem, and it was all her parent’s fault.

  She put her hands to her head. This was too much. She couldn’t deal with it, at least not without Brad’s help. He wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, and she had no solution. Maybe he did. At least he remembered it. The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts. Sarah put the call through to her.

  “Hello, Mother.” Just what she didn’t need right now. She leaned back and rubbed her temples as her mother’s voice droned on, complaining that they never saw her anymore and was she free for lunch.

  “Myra and I have something to discuss with you.”

  Michele shuffled papers only half listening. They were the last people she wanted to see right now. She took a deep breath, trying to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. May as well go and get it over with.

  “It’ll have to be a quick lunch. I have an appointment at two,” she lied, “and I can’t get away before one. An hour with her mother and Myra was about all she could handle.

  Her mother sighed. “Well, how nice to spare us an hour.”

  Michele rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension. She didn’t bother with a reply.

  “Okay then, I guess we should be honored to have you join us at all. I’ll see you at one.”

  The phone disconnected before Michele could answer. She leaned back, trying to extract the comfort her office usually gave her. Drawing strength from the calming pewter blue walls, the tension in her neck and shoulders began to ease. Many people didn’t understand how a room and color affected your mental state. Besides being functional, a room needed to express a mood and create harmony. The pewter colors combined
with the soft dusty blue carpet and tans, browns, and cream of the upholstery complimented the rich mahogany desk and created a peaceful harmony. She took deep cleansing breaths to help wash the frustration from her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Michele opened a file and stared at it, unable to concentrate. Between Louise’s problem and Brad being with Ruby, her mind worked overtime. Add her mother and mother-in-law into the mix and the day had become a complete disaster. Putting aside the problems, she focused on one of her clients, Joseph and Linda Kirby. They wanted a room converted into a nursery and a round crib with a canopy. Linda had seen one in a magazine with butterflies and dragon flies on the panels. They wanted to carry the theme of butterflies and dragon flies throughout the room. Their first child was due in two months, so time was of the essence.

  Drawing out some plans, Michele smiled, picturing a forest scene. Shaking her head, she knew that wouldn’t do and began creating her own special world. Vanilla colored walls with butterflies and dragonflies of various sizes. The baby’s sex was unknown. Rare in these times of ultra sounds, but Linda and Joe said they wanted to be surprised. The room had to be colorful, yet serene. She colored the ceiling blue to represent the sky, drew in a pond with lily pads and frogs some of them 3D. In one corner an old fashioned ice cream parlor table and chairs in the other corner, a chenille adult rocker with green and yellow plaid covering, and a floor to ceiling bookshelf along one wall.

  Michele sighed and set her colored pencils aside, satisfied with the plan. Time for the lunch date, she stood, reluctant to leave. Nothing worse than interrupting the flow of a project. Half tempted to call and cancel but something told her not to. May as well face the music and be done with it.