by Libby Malin
“Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?” Tom asked, picking up on her distraction.
“Kind of,” she said, exhaling heavily. “Oh, what the hell…” She plopped on the sofa, indicating he sit next to her, and explained the whole plan.
He listened in silence, his face a mask of stone. But when she was finished, his composure shattered.
“DeeDee McGowan, that’s just the absolute nuttiest idea I think I have ever heard in my life.” Thomas threw his hands in the air. “It’s crazy. You’re planning on walking down the aisle because you heard from a hairdresser that Buck will call off the wedding? A hairdresser?”
“The hairdresser didn’t have that piece of info. She had the info on Buck’s latest squeeze,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “But she’s reliable. All the information is reliable. It’s exactly as I thought. I’m sure Buck just wants to do to me what I did to him. I’m positive, Tom. He needs to publicly reject me to feel even. Half the town will probably cheer him on when he does it, too.”
“What does your lawyer say?” he demanded, and when she looked away he had his answer. “Great -- so your lawyer thinks it’s crazy, too. Or did you even tell her?”
“Well, I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet. It’s been happening so quickly.”
He stood. “Let’s call her right now. What’s her number?” He pulled out his cell.
“No!” she said, rising herself. She put her hand on his arm. “I don’t want to tell her.”
“Why not? Because you know what she’ll say?”
“She’s a lawyer. She doesn’t take risks.”
“There’s a good reason for that!”
“Sometimes risk pays off. Sometimes you have to stand up and, and…” She wanted to say “ be brave,” but she was afraid he would think she was calling him timid.
“And do something crazy?”
“It’s not crazy. It’s very logical, if you think about it.”
He stared at her, his jaw working furiously. It touched her that he was so concerned about her, but she couldn’t wobble now, and she couldn’t let him stay in the house long. Buck might come calling.
“You can’t go through with it,” he said at last. “What if he backs out? I mean, what if he backs out of backing out?”
“Hey -- I can always say no, like I planned to the first time.” She’d already thought of that.
“And then what? If he’s angry now -- God almighty, DeeDee, he’d be a nuclear explosion if that happened. He’d come after you with a fury neither of us has ever seen. You’d lose everything!” He gestured around him. “This house even. He’d go for you tooth and nail.”
She’d thought of that, too. It was one of the reasons she’d not called Jane-Ann. She’d had a feeling her lawyer would have said the very same things to her.
“Tom, I’m going to lose everything the way things are heading now. Dickie’s having too good a time with this case -- I hear it’s brought in new business, not to mention gotten him on TV -- and he just keeps goading Buck on. Not that he needs any goading. He could drag this out for months, even longer. He could bankrupt me with legal fees! All the while he’s watching my dealership go under. And I haven’t even begun to mention what he’s doing to you and your family!” She stared at him with grim determination. “Nope. I either go down slow or go down quick, if I lose. But I think I won’t lose if I just give Buck a chance to even the score.”
“DeeDee,” he said, softening his voice, “you don’t need to do this for me. I can fight my own battles. I’ve got Megan. She’s a dog with a bone with this stuff.”
A pinch of disappointment made her grimace. Tom was eager to have Megan fight for him but hadn’t mentioned joining the battle himself. She mentally shook off the feeling. What could he do to personally fight Buck? Did she want him to challenge him to a duel? Of course he needed to rely on legal solutions. But she didn’t have to.
“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t think you’re going to win. You’ll just feed the beast. Letting him humiliate you will only make him want to do it more. Trust me. I know bullies.” He closed his eyes and breathed out, talking more to himself than to her. “I can’t bear the thought of seeing the woman I love go through with a wedding to another man, especially one as disgusting as Buck Bewley, even if it’s a sham.”
Silence reigned. The air stood still. What had he just said?
“The woman you love?” she whispered when he opened his eyes.
***
He’d probably known he loved DeeDee from the very first date they’d ever gone on years ago. But back then, he’d told himself that he had bigger goals to pursue. Maybe he’d thought he’d come across someone his “intellectual equal,” someone with whom he could share his expanding knowledge and accomplishments. He hadn’t believed in love at first sight or even love much at all. He’d not dated a lot, and he’d adopted the consensus of many of his peers that love was a fleeting emotion, unreliable at best, traitorous at worst. And besides, a girl as hot as DeeDee couldn’t possibly reciprocate the feeling for a guy like him.
It was such a relief to finally say it. Even if she couldn’t bring herself to say the same to him.
But she sucked in her lips as she stared hard at him. Okay, so he was a fling while she got through this Buck Bewley firestorm. He’d have to accept that.
She moved toward him and hugged him, pressing a kiss on his lips that seemed more gentle than passionate. He braced himself for the inevitable “I don’t think of you that way, but we can be good friends.” He thought of the ultimate resolution after such an admission -- a growing divide when they were together, then less frequent contact, and finally a fade-out to annual holiday card exchanges. He swallowed hard as he breathed in the minty scent of her shampoo.
“It’s early days, Thomas Charlemagne,” she murmured into his chest, “But I have to admit I’ve been having the same feelings. I’m falling for you.”
What had she just said? Was that kind of a declaration of love? He relaxed. Yes, it was. It was an honest, heartfelt admission of exactly how she felt at this moment. No sugarcoating. No trying to please him. No cruel distance for fear he might fall harder than her. He realized this was one of the things about her he loved most -- her adherence to truth, as best she could assess it, no matter what the consequences.
Which made her scheme to perpetrate a fraud ever the more frustrating. It was out of character.
“DeeDee, I’m begging you. Please reconsider your plan. Buck’s a dangerous man to fool with. And you have no guarantee he’ll do what you expect him to do.”
Before she could respond, his cell buzzed. Expecting it to be Megan, he pulled it to his ear without looking at the caller’s ID.
“What’s up?” he asked, stepping away from DeeDee to take the call.
A man’s voice greeted him. “Dr. Charlemagne? This is Dr. Peter Gilbert over at St. Mary’s. I got your note -- I’d be delighted to meet you! But I’m going out of town this weekend, so if you’d like to get together, I can do lunch tomorrow if you can swing it. I’d very much like to talk to you and hope we can fit something in before I take off.”
Tom smiled. The man sounded genuinely eager to chat. How refreshing! He whispered to DeeDee that he’d be a moment and rejoined the call with Gilbert, thanking him for his generosity of spirit and setting up the luncheon meeting. That was perfect -- he had a doctor’s appointment with his father in the morning, and then he could drive over to St. Mary’s. After they set up the details of the visit, Tom signed off, eager to return to his conversation with DeeDee.
But she’d fled to the kitchen, answering a call on her cell. From the little he could overhear, he knew she was talking to Buck.
***
He let himself out, unable to stay to witness the first step in her degradation. How could he be so unhappy and happy at the same time? She’d admitted to falling for him. And yet she’d refused to consider his request to let go of a plan that would hurt and humiliate them b
oth.
Because that, he decided, as he walked to the corner where he’d stowed his car, was eating at him just as much as the lunacy of it all, too. By pretending to go back to Buck, she was publicly turning her back on him. And he’d liked the idea of winning the beauty queen for a change. He’d looked forward to the moment when he could walk with her on his arm for all to see.
But if she went through with her plan…Well, he could hear the gossip over store counters now -- oh, yes, that Timid Tommy got her to run from the altar but only a real man like Buck could hold ’er.
Sure, sure, he wouldn’t hold her for long, if DeeDee was right. But Buck rejecting DeeDee at the altar didn’t change the fact that she was giving the impression she was rejecting Tom.
Red-faced, he got into his car, draping his hands over the steering wheel and thinking. He could tell Megan. She’d blow the whistle on this escapade at the first whisper of the scheme.
And then he’d be lucky if DeeDee ever spoke to him again, especially as they dragged themselves through the minefields of litigation Buck and Dickie would be gleefully setting for them.
No, on that she’d been right. Those two ratbastards were having too much fun and were likely to stretch it out as long as possible. While they did, DeeDee would always be thinking, if not saying, why didn’t you let me give my plan a chance?
Timid Tommy.
Oh, she would be too polite now, too respectful of his feelings to actually utter those words. But they’d hang in the air all the same.
He was back on agonizingly familiar terrain.
***
That was the last he saw of DeeDee during his stay in Oyster Point. The very next morning, when he met his sister at Gentle Seas to pick up their dad for his doctor’s appointment, Megan had already heard the rumblings of the story DeeDee had set in motion.
“Good news and bad news,” Megan said as they strolled into the facility. “Good news first -- all this lawsuit stuff might be going away faster than we thought with no need for a settlement.” She stopped and looked at him with pity in her eyes. “Bad news -- I know you might have been pinning your hopes on actually getting to know DeeDee better, but it sounds as if she is rethinking her crazy decision to leave the altar.”
Crazy decision -- even his sister thought DeeDee had been wrong to throw Buck over for him?
He gritted his teeth and resumed walking. “Who’d you hear this from?” he asked as they got to the door.
“Dickie. I had to call his office to ask for some materials, and he got on the phone and told me that changing circumstances might be altering the ‘complexion of the case.’” She laughed. “That Dickie thinks a three-dollar phrase covered up a fifty-cent argument.”
Tom knew he should feel consoled by the fact that it appeared, on the surface at least, that DeeDee had pegged the situation correctly. Buck had obviously jumped at the chance to consider a do-over where he could turn the tables on her. After the vitriol he’d spewed at DeeDee in the past weeks, he certainly wasn’t motivated by affection. It was revenge, pure and simple.
“You okay?” Megan asked after they’d signed in and were heading to their father’s room. “You look pale.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
***
After a difficult visit to the doctor -- George Charlemagne was as cantankerous as ever, but the doctor declared him sound, so he canceled the medication and agreed that George should find a more comfortable living arrangement that “suited his temperament a mite better” -- Tom headed down the highway to St. Mary’s College.
Ringing in his ears was a conversation he’d overheard while waiting to sign out his dad. Had she heard, the receptionist asked the nurse, about how Buck Bewley was getting set to marry DeeDee McGowan all over again? News traveled fast in this town.
Of course it did. That’s why his reputation as Timid Tommy had taken hold so quickly as a kid. Everybody knew everybody’s business. That’s why he’d hated this place so much.
He was sufficiently low in spirits that he considered canceling the meeting with the St. Mary’s professor. Peter Gilbert was getting ready to go away and could probably use the free time, and Tom wasn’t in the mood to have his Aefle work discussed. He felt, at that moment, that his accomplishments were very small indeed if this one quest -- wooing and winning DeeDee away from the clutches of Buck Bewley -- was beyond his ken. What did Aefle matter in the grand scheme of things? He didn’t help Tom solve the puzzle of his life.
When he’d ripped up the offer from Buck for the dealership, he’d felt like the hero. Now he felt like the powerless bystander again, unable to raise a fist to the bully who was besieging his damsel’s happiness. If he’d been effective at that, she wouldn’t have concocted this cockamamie plan on her own. No, she’d known, implicitly if not explicitly, that she couldn’t count on Tom to win this battle for her. Not Timid Tommy.
***
If he’d doubted his self-worth when he pulled up to St. Mary’s, it received a boost from the greeting by Professor Gilbert. Before he even got out of his car, Tom saw a middle-aged man striding his way across the parking lot, broad smile on his face, hand extended as he neared the SUV.
“You must be Thomas,” he said, shaking Tom’s hand vigorously. “Glad you found us okay. I thought we could stroll on over to the café on campus and grab a bite. I brought a copy of my support letter with me. Figured you wouldn’t mind getting that worry off your back.”
Relief and wonder spread through Tom as he took the letter and placed it in his jacket pocket. Kindness of this sort was rare enough among his colleagues that it stood out. Tom’s mood brightened.
Off they went. Peter Gilbert was everything Tom’s colleagues were not -- affable, self-effacing, genuinely witty and committed to following research wherever it took him. His specialty had actually been Regency England, he explained to Tom, but at his first job in a tiny college in the Midwest, he’d taught courses across a broad swath of history, something he’d resented at first, thinking the college should have been a bit more generous with their faculty funding. He came to appreciate it, he said over coffee, as he learned more preparing for classes than he ever did studying during his graduate program. That was why he came across Tom’s research, he said -- because of the cross-specialty interests he’d picked up during his first job as a teaching assistant.
Tom smiled. “I’m somewhat embroiled in a debate at the moment over whether Aefle is even … valid.”
Peter laughed. “Well, he is an odd duck, isn’t he? Sort of stuck between two worlds, thinking he’s escaping his low-born past by high-tailing it to the monastery where he will be respected and esteemed.” He shook his head ruefully. “But he doesn’t quite fit in there either, now, does he? So he starts writing poetry.”
“Not just that,” Thomas said, excited by Peter’s affection for the little monk. “He falls in love.” He found himself sharing the story of Aefle’s love for Gisela, promising to send Peter his abstract when he returned to Baltimore.
“That’s magnificent, Tom. There’s your validity right there. No matter the time in history, some things are the same. People trying to better themselves for the wrong reasons. People learning to be comfortable in their own skins. Aefle didn’t seem cut out for the High Church life, now, did he?” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you find his writings cease some time soon.”
“What do you mean?” The thought of not perusing any more Aefle manuscripts pained Tom.
“I mean if he’s found the true love of his life, he’ll stop trying to prove to himself he needs the monkhood to make him feel like a man. He’ll get on with the business of living. But perhaps I oversimplify.”
“No, no… you might be on to something.” Still, the thought of Aefle’s writings dwindling created a hole in Tom’s heart, as if a friend were going away.
“We’re starting a new historical journal here -- got some foundation and alumni money for it -- and I’d love it i
f you’d consider submitting something about Aefle to us for our fall edition. Now, I don’t expect this as a quid pro quo for my letter of support. That’s free and clear. But I’m always looking for voices to make our little department a part of the bigger world.”
Tom eagerly nodded. “I’d love to. I could flesh out the abstract a bit. I’d be very happy to.”
They passed the remainder of the hour talking about their respective institutions, with Tom being careful not to badmouth his colleagues, not so much because he felt he owed them anything but because he knew it would make him look bad in Peter Gilbert’s eyes. He liked Peter. He was a man burning with the fire of learning -- of acquiring knowledge. He didn’t question whether what he learned had “validity.” He just wanted to know things, he confessed to Tom with a wink, because “one day, I’m hoping all this learning will turn me into a wise man.”
Tom thought he’d already accomplished that goal and wished he, too, could reach it himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE NEXT few weeks were harder than DeeDee had imagined they’d be when she came up with her plan. She’d known that floating the reconciliation idea would mean she’d have to actually get together with Buck before the new wedding, but her skin crawled whenever they were in the same room.
She managed to keep contact to a minimum, though, by gabbing excitedly about all the things she needed to get organized before the new ceremony, acting like a flustered schoolgirl late for every appointment. She kept his physical advances at bay, refusing to “sleep over” when he suggested it by telling him “there’ll be plenty of time for that after we do this right.” God, the thought of it made her want to puke.
Buck had done exactly as she’d predicted. After a calm phone conversation-- the day Tom had stopped by-- in which Buck had cooed at her like a lovesick pigeon and she’d responded with what she’d hoped was the right combination of remorse and affection, he’d suggested they get together.
