by Penny Dee
“When I met your mother I was heavily involved with a girl I wanted to marry, Mary-Beth. But she left for the summer to be with family in North Carolina and while she was away I met your mother at a local dance.” He paused to remember. “She was nothing like any girl I’d ever seen. Darkly beautiful and glamorous. She seemed so worldly at the time. So exciting and mesmerizing. Beautiful, rich and spoilt, but at the same time, fascinating, witty and very charming. Of course, I was immediately drawn to her—as was every other boy in the county. She was visiting for a month from South Carolina.”
He nodded regretfully. “She was engaged to another man at the time. A Mister Will Starling. But he was serving overseas in Iraq. We were young and foolish. Both of us were meant for other people but, at the same time, unable to fight the attraction we felt towards one another. We were reckless. So we enjoyed the spontaneity and risks of such a brief affair, both of us understanding that it was only for such a short period of time.”
My daddy took another good sip of his brandy and something made me suspect it wasn’t his first glass. He looked pensive, almost remorseful. Then he gave a small smile and shake of his head. “Our affair lasted the entire month she was here and by the time Mary-Beth returned from North Carolina … well, your mother was well and truly gone.”
“So what happened?” I asked.
“She phoned me a couple of months later. She was pregnant.”
My eyes rounded as I paused my brandy glass at my lips.
“Harrison?” I asked.
My daddy nodded.
“Her fiancé agreed to raise the child as his own. But unfortunately, Mister Will Starling was killed in action before Harrison was born. I felt an obligation. After all, she was carrying my child. Of course, by this stage Mary-Beth had found out and, well … let’s just say that she removed herself from the equation.” He paused and the regret was deep in his face. “So, I married your mother.”
This wasn’t how I imagined my parents falling in love.
Did he even love her?
“Love came much later. Well and truly after my children were born. But it wasn’t the dizzying heights I had felt with Mary-Beth. It was through respect and compassion … an affection, if you will.”
“Did you regret marrying, Mama?”
“How could I? She gave me three incredible children.” His smile was close-lipped and contemplative. “I know she’d wished her Will Starling had come back from his tour and taken her away from it all. She had loved him dearly. She used to write him letters, even after his death. She showed them to me once, after a particularly nasty row we’d had. She said she wanted me to understand who she had become and why. So I sat on our bed and read every heartbroken word. One by one. About how unfair life had been to her dead beau. That he had died never knowing the true depth of her love for him. That she had betrayed him with another man because she had missed him so desperately and was so lonely with him gone. That my attention had only meant to be a brief distraction.” He looked regretful. “That she would give her life to have him back.”
I frowned. I couldn’t imagine living with that kind of regret.
Or that my cold mother was even capable of that kind of love.
“I asked her once, how she would look back on her life and do you know how she replied?” He watched me shake my head. “She looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘With regret, Jean-Jacques. With complete and utter regret.” They were her very words.”
In that moment I felt incredibly sorry for my mother. While my daddy was uncharacteristically empathetic.
“I knew how she felt,” he said simply. “I’d watched Mary-Beth marry a local man and raise a beautiful family with him. All the while regretting it wasn’t with me.”
My daddy had never opened up to me like this before. It was candid and completely unexpected, but honest and sincere. It was hard to imagine the formidable Jean-Jacques Montmarte as a young man desperately in love with a local beauty, and consumed by regret. His intimidating exterior belied his emotional past.
“My life has been marred by regret, Harlow. I learned to accept it. But your mother—it changed her. She was once such a charismatic and witty woman. Fun. Light hearted. A real beauty.” He sighed and looked regretful. “But what we did that summer destroyed four lives. Of course it gave her and I three wonderful children. And for that alone I was able to find acceptance. But your mother never got past losing her one true love. And it turned her cold.”
He drained his glass and put it on the table and leaned closer to me. “Despite my acceptance of where life has led me, I can’t help but wonder.” He took my hand. “I don’t want that for my daughter. I don’t want her to always wander. Always regret. Wish she’d done things differently. Because it eats into your soul and changes you. Regret is a powerful thing Harlow. It can corrode the steeliest of wills.”
I frowned into my brandy. “I’m so confused. I miss him.” I looked up. ”My friends in California, and Bridget … they all fit me perfectly. But then, I’m afraid, because he broke my heart and if he did it again … I’m not sure I’d ever be able to get back up again.”
“We always get back up again, Harlow. It’s human nature.” A small smile played on his lips. “And you’re too stubborn—too much like your old man to not get back up again.”
“It’s hard to be without him.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because he broke my heart.”
He nodded. My own sea-green eyes looked back at me. Although they were much wiser.
“So you’ve made your decision?”
I nodded solemnly and looked away.
He sighed. “You’re as stubborn as you are beautiful.”
“No, I’m just not in the mood for being very forgiving.”
“I’m a smart man Harlow. It’s made me enormously rich. Do you know why? Because I am always careful to consider every roll of the dice before making my decision. And once I’ve made up my mind, I stand by it.
Are you prepared to stand behind your decision for the rest of your life?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
My daddy’s question rang in my ears long after he’d retired for the evening. I sat at the bay window of his study overlooking the mill pond. The moon was high and flooded the room with bright light. Tomorrow was the debutante ball. I would be pushed and pulled in all directions. Which was nothing new really, considering my heart and my head were in a constant tug of war.
I sighed, got up and left the study. As I climbed the grand staircase I was stopped by a noise coming from upstairs. I stood very still to listen. And I knew exactly what it was. Instead of heading towards my bedroom, I went to Harper’s room and crossed to the large open window on the far wall overlooking the creek.
“Busted,” I said to my ninja sister who was creeping up the lattice work outside the window. She was almost at the top.
“Hells bells!” she gasped. Then, realizing it was only me, hoisted herself over the windowsill and into the room. “Geez Harlow, you scared me half to death.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Relax.” She caught her breath. “I was with Cooper.”
Cooper was her boyfriend. This week, anyway. My rebellious sister wasn’t one for commitment.
I leaned against the windowsill and crossed both my arms and my legs.
“At least tell me you’re being safe.” There was no point reprimanding her or sneaking out. Lord knows I’d done it enough times with Colton.
Harper scoffed as she crossed the room to her bed and took off her boots. “Sure, I am. There’s no way in Hades I will fall in love with that boy. I mean Cooper is good lookin’ and all, but he’s not exactly bright. If he threw himself on the ground he’d miss.”
I raised my Scarlet O’Hara brow. “I didn’t mean be safe with your heart. I meant safe sex.” God, when did I turn into a parent?
Harper swung around. “With Cooper?” She shimmied out of her jeans and top, leaving her standing with her hand
s on her hips in only her underwear. Modesty wasn’t Harper’s strong point. “If you think I’m givin’ anything away to a guy like Cooper Stone, then you’re crazier than what Mama says.”
Again, another raised brow. “Mama thinks I’m crazy?”
“Like a road runnin’ lizard.” She pulled an oversized t-shirt over her head and then sat on the edge of her bed, pulling her long hair over her shoulder to plait it. I sat down next to her.
“Yeah, well if I’m crazy it’s because of all this debutante bullshit. It’s like I came back from California and rode straight into crazy town.”
“Mama says you don’t enjoy it because you’re too damn stubborn to even try.”
“Crazy and stubborn. Boy, Mama was on a roll.”
She paused with her plait. “Do you miss California?”
Boom. There was that ache again. Every time I thought about it, which let’s face it was all the time, the crater in my chest got bigger.
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
Harper knew about Heath. Well, not everything. But she knew I had met someone and that I’d left them behind. Clearly she suspected things, but rehashing them with her would only make it harder for me to move on. Heath didn’t exist in this house. And it would make it easier to get over him if that’s the way it stayed.
“Have you thought of going back?”
I nodded and then sighed. “Every day.”
“Well, I think it’s crazy you even came back. When I turn eighteen, I’m out of here. No way Mama is going to put me through all this debutante malarkey. I’ll run away before I let that happen.”
“She’ll find you.”
“Maybe. But she’ll have to haul me back by the bra strap because I won’t come home willingly.” She thought for a minute. “If you go back to California, can I have your room?”
“I’m not going back to California.”
“Pity. Your room is so much better than mine.”
“That’s because our parents like me better.”
She grinned and nudged me with her shoulder. But her smile faded.
“Why did you come back here? You’re miserable.”
“No, I’m not.”
She scoffed. “Harlow, you look like you’ve been rode hard and hung out to dry.”
“I do not,” I protested. Did I? I mean, was I that bad? I frowned. “What do you know anyway, you’re only sixteen?”
Now she raised her eyebrow.
“I’m sixteen; not blind.” She climbed into bed and pulled up the blankets. “If I were you I’d catch the first flight out of here heading west.”
“And if I were you, I’d make the most of being sixteen and not having to worry about your debutante ball for another two years.” I grinned and stood up, leaning over her to kiss her on the forehead. “Good night, sister.”
She smiled up at me from her pillow. “One day I’m going to California and I’m never coming back.”
“Then I only hope California will be ready.”
In the quiet of my own room I sat at the large window and leaned against the sill. It had been a particularly tiresome week of last minute dress fittings, dance classes and gala rehearsals. I knew I should get some rest. But I hated closing my eyes. Because when I did, I saw him and my chest would ache from the great big fucking hole where my heart used to be.
I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them. The moon was large and bright. It cast a silvery glow across the immaculate lawns and gardens and its reflection shimmered in the duck pond. I exhaled deeply. I had never felt so alone or as broken hearted as I did tonight. I missed Heath. And I knew it had nothing to do with the nostalgic moonlight, and everything to do with the fact that I was still terribly in love with him.
* * * * *
It was the day of the deb ball and the day’s events passed by me like I was watching them from a car window. My mother had a professional makeup and hair styling team work on me while I stared sightlessly at my reflection in the mirror. It took an exhausting two hours and by the end of it I was ready to threaten anyone with pain if they came near me with one more bobby pin.
Outwardly, I looked like the perfect debutante. My strapless dress was such a pale blue it was almost white. It hugged my figure in all the right places and was heavily beaded with Swarovski crystals so it shimmered with light when I moved. To add to the sparkle, a thin diamond choker glittered around my neck and an exquisite diamond tiara was fixed into my hair.
My outfit was finally complete when I slipped two long white gloves up my arms. They were a last minute addition because apparently tattoos weren’t considered very ladylike.
Finally ready, I met my parents in the grand foyer of our home. My mother was striking in cream and gold with her hair pulled on top of her head in an elegant chignon. For her, it was an important day. As a part of the organizing committee, she had worked tirelessly to ensure the gala would dazzle everyone and she wanted it to be so spectacular that they would hear about it as far afield as Alabama and the Carolinas.
My daddy looked handsome in his suit. It was easy to imagine the handsome young man who had won and then lost the love of his life all those years ago. Our talk had brought us closer which meant the world to me. But it also took me that one step closer to perhaps being able to accept my mother for all her hateful faults.
Closer. Yes. But there was still a long way to go.
Colton arrived and there was no doubt that he looked handsome. When he saw me he whistled.
“Goddamn Miss Montmarte, I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” he said, kissing my hand and oozing charm. He was dressed in his West Point finery and smelled like Southern Blend.
I just smiled sweetly and prayed I would get through the evening’s events without wanting to throw myself off a cliff.
Harper joined us wearing a gorgeous Valentino dress, but much to my mother’s disapproval, had switched her Manolo Blahnik’s for a pair of Converse high-tops. She was lucky our mother was so distracted making my life hell to worry about her youngest child’s fashion rebellion.
We rode with my parents to the venue of the ball, which was at a sprawling plantation just out of town. Cameras flashed. Local media gathered on the gravel driveway. Everywhere you turned there was another stunning girl in a stunning white gown. As we pulled up under the antebellum portico, I felt sick and out of step with everything going on around me.
After posing for a trillions of photos, we left my parents and sister, and joined the rest of the debutantes and escorts in the backrooms of the Grand Oaks Plantation. Cristal champagne circulated on silver platters carried by waiters in white boleros. Diamonds glittered. Silver and gold glinted amongst precious gems. Everywhere you turned, white magnolias and ribbons festooned light fittings, furnishings and timber railings.
I snatched a long flute of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in seconds.
“Since when do you drink champagne?” Colton asked.
“Since my mother starting making me attend debutante balls,” I said grabbing a second flute of champagne.
“A debutante doesn’t drink like a trucker,” he said, and took the second flute of champagne from me. “
I took it back. “This one does.”
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a very pretty Laurie-Beth Westfield smiling back at me. She out-sparkled the champagne with the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. A friend from school, Laurie-Beth was one of the nicest girls this side of California.
“You made it!” I pulled her into a hug. Laurie-Beth was pure innocence. She loved these sorts of things. She was the good Southern girl that my mama so desperately wanted me to be. And she was so so sweet. Sadly, her daddy had passed away a couple of months earlier, leaving their family devastated. And broke. Unfortunately, that meant they no longer had the money for Laurie-Beth to attend the cotillion ball. There had been a communal call for the committee—the one my mother headed up—to waver the hefty registration fee for Laurie-Beth. It would
have been easy for them to do. But my mother had declined. There were certain commitments and traditions to uphold, she had said. Bitch.
Laurie-Beth’s smile faded just a little. “No. I’m just here to wish y’all good luck. You look so pretty.”
Disappointment hit me in the gut. Laurie-Beth should have been the one being presented as a debutante today. Not me. This ridiculous charade meant something to her while it meant nothing to me.
“I’m sorry Laurie-Beth. I know you were looking forward to this.”
She tried to remain upbeat and her smile broadened to mask her own disappointment. “I understand. Truly. It’s okay. Your mama was gracious enough to allow me back here to see y’all before it all starts.”
My mama was mean.
Laurie-Beth took my gloved hands in hers and looked at me with a heart-crushing fondness. If I could have swapped places with her, I would have in an instant.
“You’re the belle of the ball Harlow. The most beautiful girl here.” Her smile was so sweet, it broke my heart. “You make sure you have fun out there. It will be over before you know it.”
Promise? I smiled and nodded. I didn’t tell her that I’d rather be having all my teeth extracted than doing this. Somehow I didn’t think she’d get it.
Bells signaled the start of the proceedings and she squeezed my hands, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.
As a sudden act of rebellion I pulled the long white gloves off my arms and handed them to her. “Will you do me a favor and take these for me, Laurie-Beth?”
Her pretty eyes rounded at the sight of the tattoo on my wrist. But she didn’t say anything. She just gave me one last appreciative smile and then disappeared into the crowd of debutantes gathering at the top of the staircase, leaving me in a cloud of magnolia scent. I downed the second flute of champagne. It was time to rock n roll.
Colton, who’d been working the room, retuned to my side to escort me towards the lineup of debutantes. He took me by the arm and guided me towards the staircase.
“You know, there is a good chance we belong together,” he said simply.
