by Linda Gerald
Now the couple enjoyed separate time, as the two women enjoyed the spa. The men played cards in a sheltered place out of the sun. Elizabeth found it easy to talk with Gwen. The fact that she knew Edwina and had been close friends added to the ease she felt. Quickly, Gwen accepted her as an equal. Maybe the “great Edwina” was not more special than she? Such a realization bolstered Elizabeth’s confidence.
Evenings, after dinner, were spent together attending musicals or other events. Such a closeness grew between the four. Fondly, they planned time together in the states. Gwen and her husband, Tony, knew Dottie and Tyler well. Together, they shared funny tales of Dottie’s hijinks. Everyone loved Dottie George.
Much too fast, the time came for them to disembark. The four arose early, on the last morning, to stand on the deck in appreciation as they passed the Statue of Liberty. On a glorious summer day, they waited to leave the ship while they promised to meet again soon.
Harry and Elizabeth assumed their place in line. Much too quickly, they waved “Adieu” to their friends. He hugged her closely. They disembarked. Then turned to wave a final time at the ship they cherished.
Once again, a taxi quickly collected them and their luggage. The Hotel Elysee waited for their return. When they entered the room, such tiredness overcame them.
“Elizabeth, I feel as if a weight wraps around me. I find it difficult to walk. What is wrong with me?”
Perplexed, she looked at him.
“Funny, I feel the same. I’m hungry but can’t phantom the idea of facing a crowd of people. A shower and the chance to sleep in a familiar bed is even more attractive. I am hungry.”
As if on cue, they both responded, “Let’s call room service.”
After long, hot showers, the Grovers enjoyed a relaxed meal in a place that they loved. Instead of starting home the next day, they spent two more days just sleeping and eating in their room. Finally, on the third day, the bellhop loaded their luggage on the trolley. Harry guided Elizabeth into the waiting car of Chase. He explained that Chase picked up their car immediately after they embarked on the cruise. How did Harry accomplish all of this? She never heard the phone call that must have taken place. Her perfect life was cherished. Chase talked all the way home. Happily, he relayed current information about Dottie, Tyler, and other of their friends. Elizabeth stopped listening when he said, “Harry, Don Donahue has phoned almost each day. He demanded that Dottie tell him when you planned to return. She said over and over again that she did not know your plans. He told her that he feared Elizabeth may try to push you overboard.”
Harry groaned as the woman with no memory snuggled closer to him.
THIRTY-THREE: HOME
Just as darkness gently spread tentacles of deepening blackness, the Lincoln entered the opening gates. The place that they loved most on earth glowed like a fairyland with sparkling white lights and soft music.
Grover looked at his love. Gently, they kissed. Even Chase, the driver, admitted a fondness for the woman without memory.
When they entered the kitchen, smells of savory chicken pulled them like a magnet to the oven. There, they discovered a small pot pie wrapped in foil warming in the oven. A bottle of their favorite Burgundy wine sat on the counter.
“Harry, we need to forbid Dottie going in the basement to the wine cellar. It would be easy for her to fall. She does think of everything.”
He agreed but was more interested in tasting her surprise. They dropped what they carried and sat at the kitchen table. They did not speak. Hungrily, hey sampled Dottie’s gift. Chase carried the bags upstairs, where he deposited them in the correct rooms.
The next morning, sounds of Dottie’s arrival caused squeals of joy from both women.
“Okay. Let me have all of the details of this trip. I can’t possibly work until I knows all.” A large grin followed those words. The green curler bounced happily in the back of her head.
Harry worked in his office upstairs. The dark-haired beauty recited everything relative about the trip to Dottie. Her story ended, as she handed a large package wrapped in gold foil to her friend. Dottie ripped the paper off in a second and put the large red bow aside. She gasped as she removed a large painting of an Italian scene. Flowers, surrounding a hotel by the waters, drew the observer’s interest. This hotel was the very place the Grovers enjoyed in Sicily. The dark, round woman clutched it tightly to her chest with pleasure.
“You didn’t have to, but I glad you did! I love it. Thank you.”
Elizabeth realized that Dottie enjoyed art. The two friends shared a cup of coffee. Dottie’s countenance clouded with concern. Sadly, she explained the recent tirade of Don Donahue. It seemed that he called each day, several times, demanding to know the date of Grover’s return. A few times, he phoned the police. He ranted that Elizabeth planned to murder Mr. Grover.
“That man’s crazy. He’s no good, and he’s crazy.” Dottie grabbed the hand of her friend.
“You need to be careful. That man hates you with a passion. I’m telling you; please be careful.”
Gaily, Elizabeth laughed at the histrionics since their departure. It would not be a difficult assignment for her to avoid the madman. The displeasure, he felt for her, was returned. Harry remained in his office, so Elizabeth walked outside.
This spring day was perfectly lovely. Clear skies without clouds shined on her as she walked. The intense heat had not developed yet. Instead, a fresh breeze brushed her face. Her heart soared at the pleasure of returning home. Joy for life burned passionately in her soul.
As she scanned the skies, her eyes checked for birds. She thought of the beautiful presents from Harry, which he purchased in Europe for her. Both, the red and blue birds, rested on the mantle in her bedroom.
Such contentment and peace flooded her once troubled mind. Her walk continued. Quickly, she moved deeper into the forest surrounding their home. Now off the road, she was startled by the sound of a deer. He jumped over a large rock in the deepening brush. Several wrens squealed with alarm, at the intrusion of the woman into their habitat. Fascinated, by the sounds and spectacles of nature, she trekked on without thought to her location. A new boldness pushed her ahead. Fears and anxiety no longer assailed her. Without sunscreen protection, her face burned from the welcomed streaks of gold. Still, she refused to return home. It was as if she must continue toward this pull from an unknown source. Only happiness shrouded her life now.
Hours passed. Still, she pressed forward into dense brush and trees. Ahead, she saw a gray structure. Confused by her location, she pushed tree branches out of her way. To her surprise, she stood at the little cottage where she spent a few hours on her first night. Time had passed so quickly since her arrival here. That night felt distant. Elizabeth walked around the house with fascination. The pool was clean. It sparkled with shining, blue water which beckoned to her. Instead, she chose one of the black rocking chairs. Everything appeared dusted and perfect. Surely, Dottie didn’t clean all of this? Were there other employees who Harry paid to keep the estate so pristine?
Only sounds of outdoors: chirps of birds, the crackling of gently moving branches, and water lapping in the pool from the soft winds. Elizabeth rested her head on the back of the chair. Peacefully, she hummed a merry tune that she heard Harry whistle frequently. All was well.
As the wind increased speed, it blew her hair into her face. Suddenly, she awakened from heavy sleep. It would be wonderful if the door was unlocked and she could cozy in that large bed for a nap. The young woman thought about Goldilocks in The Three Bears.
“This bed is just right.” She smiled at the thought.
To her amazement, the door was unlocked. Tiredness pushed her forward. The bed welcomed her with the lovely duvet which she remembered well. She began to pull the covers back when she spied an opened closet door. This sight stimulated her interest. Opening the door, she spied an old art easel. Various colors and many layers of paint attested to the fact that it appeared to be an antique. Elizabeth pul
led the legs apart. She set it up. Although it was a rickety structure, the old easel remained workable in spite of age. The woman with no memory carried it to the window. Returning to the closet, she noticed a large piece of plastic on the shelf. As she pulled it down, a small board tumbled out with a large box of various paints and boar bristle brushes of all sizes. It was such a gift.
Profound fascination stirred her interest. Any desire for a nap escaped. Excitedly, she laid the plastic underneath the easel. Again, she returned to the closet. There, tucked deep inside, sat several canvasses of varying sizes. Joyfully, she removed a smaller one and carefully placed it on the easel. Without hesitation, she began to paint a forest scene from today’s walk. Easily, she layered varying shades of green and brown onto the blank whiteness. Among the developing painting, skillfully she hid small birds. Different species and colors adorned the small figures nestled in branches of trees and shrubs. The birds she painted with quickness and skill. All at once, the scene came alive with green grass and blue sky. Soft, white clouds decorated the scene like marshmallows. They floated overhead perfectly formed in soft layers. Where had this talent developed? The painting seemed to finish itself. She stepped back while she studied it. Just as she decided that she possessed an incredible gift; a loud, obtrusive shrill rang through the silence. Elizabeth realized her folly. Poor Harry and Dottie must be terrified over her absence. How long was she absent?
Running toward the house, the realization that the entire day had passed, caused added concern. Twilight beckoned. Faster, she ran toward the main house. The alarm continued to blare. When she blasted through the kitchen door, Dottie and Harry turned. Harry looked pale and shaken. Without a word, he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.
“Don’t you ever do that again. We have walked and called for hours; where were you.” Again, he pulled her close.
Dottie held a tissue. Her eyes were puffy and red. Angrily, she stomped her foot as she yelled, “I just told you about Donahue, and you go walking alone? He hates you. Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”
Elizabeth smiled at the drama unfolding. It felt wonderful to be loved, after months of feeling unimportant by an apparent lack of interest from any family members.
“I do apologize and promise that I will never do this again. My day has been happy.” A broad smile greeted the worried others. They looked at each other in disbelief.
“Well, why don’t you tell us.” A fire burned in Dottie’s eyes, but Elizabeth was excited at her discovery. As they all sat at the kitchen table, the young woman described her walk. In great detail, she told of deer and birds who scurried into the thick forest. When she told them that she walked to the pool cottage, they could not believe the distance that she covered. Finally, she softly explained about the easel and paints. Darkness found the three gathered together listening in fascination to a woman without memory.
THIRY-FOUR: THE TRUTH
Jackson shook with rage. His beautiful wife did not now look so great. While she cowered on the floor with mascara running down her face, she looked more like a liar. She continued to beg. Angrily, he shook the invoice in her face. Again, he looked at the receipt for a hotel in New York during the same time that Christine disappeared.
“You know what Susan? I have caught you in a lie. Either tell me the truth right now or don’t bother coming back home. I refuse to deal with another deceiver.” He sat down on the side of the bed and waited. His words hung heavily in the air.
The strawberry-blonde woman stood unsteadily. Her body trembled with emotion. She knew that her answer could seal her future with Jackson. Without looking at him, she sat beside him. It was impossible to speak. Her breathing was labored. Perspiration broke out on her face and chest. For the longest time, she remained silent. The beating of her heart raged in her ears. Could Jackson hear it as well?
Softly, with extreme control, she described what happened on that night long ago in New York. Her words began to tumble out quickly but clearly without emotion. Susan had tired of her friend’s constant whining over Jackson and the girls. Each time that they were together, Christine described her resentment of the way he spent money so freely. They were constantly in debt. Her husband was a great provider, but nothing was ever good enough for him, according to his wife. When he insisted on the current, lavish house, she lost all respect for him. Instead of trips and beautiful clothes, she and the girls were forced to sacrifice. Eventually, she hated not just the house but found herself resenting him and the children. Demands on her time drained her energy, exhausted her love. As time continued to pass, she begged him to sell it and buy a smaller home. Quincey and Maddie didn’t care. They would prefer stylish clothes and braces for their teeth. Things got so bad that she flirted with the handyman, Charlie. The wife and mother felt caged and depressed. Susan became outraged that this woman would not want Jackson. Over profuse protests, Christine assured her friend that she never had an actual affair, even though her husband did not believe her. According to Christine, that was the final straw. The fact that he refused to believe that she had not cheated. Years of enduring his unrestrained spending, with mounting debt, became too much.
Time passed for the couple, but nothing changed or improved. Her “best” friend, Susan, remained her confidant. Just as they had been as children, they told each other everything. Slowly, she encouraged Christine to leave her husband. Susan’s description of life, without ties of a family, beckoned to the other woman’s sense of adventure and freedom. She began to dream of a world without a husband and children. It was all too much for Christine. Now tired of constant arguing over money and debt, Susan’s words became more and more appealing. While Christine’s descriptions of feeling, “Smothered with love” were just what the blonde woman desired.
When the two women received news of a Sorority meeting, Susan enticed her friend to accompany her. It was never her intention to go to Las Vegas. If she could get her friend, to an unknown location, she would somehow get rid of her. How could she know that inclement weather would play right into her plans? As they drove, weather conditions worsened so fast that the women feared for their safety. They decided, late one evening as they sought refuge from a storm, to divert their plans. Susan had visited New York several times, but Christine had never left Florida. It was easy for the friend to persuade the unhappy wife to, “Have some fun, for a change.” New York sounded even better than a group of old friends, who tried to top each other with exaggerated stories of their “perfect” life. Susan did not plan to murder Christine but entice her to leave Jackson, as she demonstrated the many facets of life to a starved and unhappy woman.
The two women changed their plans. Susan’s descriptions of an exciting place drove Christine’s desire for a new life.They headed for New York. When they arrived, Christine was already persuaded to divorce Jackson. Susan’s plan was to nurse his emotions and hold his hand through the ordeal, once his wife had left. Yes, she would be by his side during the plight that this selfish wife and mother forced on them. An instant family waited for her with plenty of love. She had witnessed the love which they freely gave to Christine. Meanwhile, her friend could have the life of which she now dreamed. New York would surely demonstrate all that freedom could provide. Christine was an accomplished artist. Her paintings of various birds, wowed the art world. Work should come easily for such a talent.
Weather in New York was glorious on that fall day when they arrived. Christine bought some fancy clothes for an event they planned to attend that evening. Posters and brochures were displayed in the hotel describing the lavish event. It was unlike anything which Christine had ever seen. This excitement and stimulation were the life of which she often wished. The two dined at a famous restaurant. Things seemed like a novel.
Christine and Jackson did not drink. Their budget was tight. They could not afford to spend money on such things. Susan watched as her friend hastily consumed two drinks at dinner that evening. When they reached the hotel, the dark-haired beauty
was angry and belligerent. She swore at Susan. Christine stated her disdain for her husband. Her words became meaner and more personal. Finally, the two began to argue. Someone in the next room complained about the loud noise. The hotel sent a male employee to check out the complaint. He insisted that the two quiet down.
Earlier in the day, the women had purchased admittance for an event at the Metropolitan that evening. The tickets laid on the bureau while they slept after the demands for quiet. Susan hoped that her friend may sober. Instead, she awakened to hits from the distraught friend. Christine had showered and dressed in the beautiful brown gown covered in gold, which she purchased that day.
Susan feared for herself. The drunk woman appeared insane. Rants and raves, with frequent hits to the resting woman, seemed to intensify. Finally, the smaller woman could not take any more of the incessant anger. She arose from her bed. They faced off. Christine shoved her friend onto the floor and kicked her hard on the side. Now, rage consumed Susan. She loved the man whom her friend hated. Rising suddenly, with great force and fury, she slapped Christine so hard that she knocked her down onto the floor. She remained there. Susan stated that there was no movement from Christine.
Susan paused the story. Her gasps for breath frightened Jackson, but he did not interrupt. Instead, the man waited for the rest of this tale of despair. He was not shocked by the actions of Christine. He had experienced her anger and unhappiness.
Susan finished this unbelievable tale by saying that she tried to wake Christine but could not. It was possible that she was dead. Terrified, she ran from the hotel into the crisp air of a fall day. It was the weekend. Streets bustled with traffic and pedestrians. As she walked, the realization that this may be her last walk of freedom resounded in her head. Most likely, her friend lied dead on the hotel floor. Dread overcame the blonde. When she finally would return, to phone authorities, her life would be hell.
