by Caryl McAdoo
“When?”
“I don’t know, but he’s sitting out by the fish pond staring into space thinking about whatever it was. I asked him. He admitted it was something you said, but didn’t want to talk about it because he wanted to keep his own council.” Vicki threw her hands into the air. “So what profound thing did you say to him?”
“Beats me.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Sorry.” Marge grinned. “So have you decided yet?”
“No, but Dub said I could model all three tonight. Then he’ll tell me which one he likes best. Said I could go first, third, and fifth.”
* *
Marge nodded. “Why not?” She didn’t think it sounded fair, but what did it matter? Since she wasn’t playing his silly game anymore, she had no compulsion to see that all was right, fair, and just. “That’s good. That way I’ll get to see all three, too.”
She’d go to Jefferson, have herself a grand time and then be done with him and his old apple vinery orchard. She’d miss the girls, though, especially Vicki. Thinking about missing anyone else in the house was against her own set of rules although there’d been more than a few times she’d though to go tell Holly something, but her gardening buddy was no longer around..
The girl jumped to her feet. “Well, better go get everything out. Haven’t done a quick change in years.”
Marge glanced at the wall clock. “We’re eating first, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” The young beauty spoke over her shoulder heading toward her room.
Marge tried to get Preston off her mind, but the young girl’s bit of news wouldn’t be denied. What had she said to him that made him sit and stare at the fish pond? She strolled toward the lone window in her room then peeked out. He still sat there. What would it hurt to go see? Maybe he’d tell her.
Forty-eight steps later, she sat on the other end of the bench careful not to touch him. “Vicki said you were out here.”
He looked over. “She did, now, and what else did she say?”
“Something about me saying something that upset you.”
“Didn’t wait long to run to mother, huh?”
His voice sounded harder, not as melodious as usual. Marge made herself not react. Didn’t matter that he saw Vicki as a child since she now enjoyed her ex-participant-in-the-W.G.-Preston-prospective-wife-sweepstakes status. “Thought I might help, but if you’d rather be alone.”
“No, no. Not at all.” He glanced at his wrist, stood, then extended his hand. “Shall we walk? We’ve got an hour before supper.”
She let him pull her to her feet then keep her hand in his. Didn’t mean anything. Just like him kissing her didn’t mean anything. The warmth that spread from his hand to her heart didn’t mean anything either, because she wasn’t playing his game anymore. He’d have to find his good-luck-girl in one of the others if at all. Her eyes watered, and she fought to make them stop.
He was so wonderful.
A few feet past the house, he gestured at an overgrown path she’d never taken. “Sometimes…” He pulled her forward once the trail widened and she could walk beside him. “I can’t remember what Nancy looked like. You know, the details.”
Oh, dear. She looked at his handsome face. Poor man. “Well, don’t let it worry you, Dub. It’s natural. Truly. Perfectly normal, believe me. Happens to all of us.”
“I know, but it still bothers me some.”
She didn’t say anything back. In a few steps, the path topped a small rise then veered off to the right. He stopped. A beautiful little clearing surrounded by trees beckoned just ahead. Water spilled over a collection of boulders into an acre pond. “Oh, how lovely.”
He pointed to the right. “There’s a bench over there.”
For the longest she sat next to him and studied the ripples on the water enjoying its sweet babbling fall into the pool.
Eventually, he interrupted the peaceful scene and broke his silence. “Over there.” He pointed to the far side. “That’s where I was going to build Nancy a house.” His arm flopped into his lap as though ashamed for pointing out the spot. “But… ” He shrugged then faced her. “I haven’t given legal the final go ahead on her story.”
“But why, Dub? You said it only needed a couple of changes. I was under the impression it was a wonderful piece.”
“It is, but it’s not complete.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Guess it’s your call, but what could be lacking?”
“Besides helping the boy who hit her, she asked for another promise.” He stood then held out his hand. She let him pull her up.
“So that’s what you’ve been brooding over?”
“Pretty much.” He rose and started back. “You know who Andrew Carnegie was?”
“A rich old man who appreciated good music and good books?” She followed. “I know there were libraries all over the country that he built, and there’s Carnegie Hall in New York, right?”
“Sums him up. History may credit him with accomplishing more than that with his money, but yes, he’s that one.”
“So what about him?”
“Nancy asked me to do what Carnegie did.”
“Build libraries?”
“No. Give all my money away.”
“But why?”
“Why not? I can’t spend it all. It’s not like I’d give the orchard away, and I make more off it than it takes to live. It’s so appealing to know there wouldn’t be such a huge estate left for the in-laws to fight over. Besides, the government would get almost half of it. I’d sure rather give it away to worthy causes than to them.” He moved a branch back and held it letting her pass. “Think of it. It can make such a difference for generations. I mean, it’s not like I tried to get so rich. I haven’t done a deal in more than ten years.”
Marge stopped walking and toyed with Preston’s words. The more she thought about them, the better she liked the idea. “That does sound wonderful.” She leaned back and tried to look into his soul. “Are you going to?”
“I’ve been trying, but I’m running into the same problem as Carnegie himself. My income is greater than what I’m able to give away.”
She stopped and studied him a moment. Was he teasing her? He didn’t appear to be yanking her chain. “How can that be?”
He shrugged. “Take the church fund. I seeded it with a billion dollars and told the board of directors there’s more where that came from.” He flipped his right hand in the air like the world had gone mad. “Because it takes so much red tape and time, they’ve only given away two hundred million, but that doesn’t even cover the interest the money made in the last five years.”
She nodded. He continued on his plan to aid struggling churches then started comparing that fund to three other charitable foundations he set up that experienced the same difficulties. The legal aspects intrigued Marge, but the zeros he tossed around threatened her non-calculator-brain with overload.
The house came into view, and he stopped talking. She loved listening to him even if she didn’t understand it all. Could she live her life without hearing the sound of his voice? Should she reconsider her decision to leave? “What else can you do?”
“I’ve got so many lawyers working on this they ought to rename the firm after me, and they all say it has to be done this way. I don’t know, it’s rather frustrating.”
“A nice frustration, I would imagine.”
“Not really. I didn’t set out to be rich. Enjoyed the wheeling and dealing for a while, but one day I realized I had more than enough. Forget spending it all. I can’t even give it all away.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Journal entry - June 27th
Jorje called. Said he and the gang had everything wired.
Vicki scooted the eggplant parmesan around her plate. She was so ready for this fashion show to start. She nudged her shoe against his. He wiped his mouth then turned toward her.
“You’re not eating much. You sick?”
&nb
sp; “No, more like past ready to get my promenade over, so I can decide what to pack for Jefferson. We leave in the morning after breakfast, if I remember the itinerary.”
He smiled. “Snow White sounds mighty sweet, but what if I like Cleo or Maid Marian as much?”
“Now, listen carefully. You will like one at least a tiny bit more.” She nudged his foot again then added under her breath, “You better help me out on this one.”
“Darlin’, you don’t need any help. You’ll be fine.” He winked. “Trust me.”
She wanted to believe him, but knew how much he valued his dear rules. And he already had a list drawn up, of that she was certain. “Of course, I trust you. It’s those judges in Jefferson I don’t even know, so pretend you’re a judge this year, and tell me what you really think. Okay? Please?”
He half-nodded, winked again then forked another bite. “Delicious as usual, Audrey.”
“Thanks, Dub. You’re an easy man to cook for.”
Vicki glanced around to see if anyone had been paying attention. The other ladies pretended not to be eavesdropping on her conversation with the man, but even as she checked each one’s face, she discerned the truth. In the end, did it really matter all that much if they knew now? Surely by then everyone had already decided who they were going to be. She pushed her chair back and stood. “Shouldn’t I be getting ready?’
“Any time, darlin’.”
“Good. Want me to come on back soon as I’ve changed?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
She returned his smile then hurried to her room. Before the echo of the door closing died, she had her blouse off and her jeans unbuttoned. She froze at her bed. Suddenly the order she’d planned didn’t seem right. She grabbed the costume she thought to wear second, held it up against herself, then twirled and studied the mirror. She’d wear it, especially since he’d mentioned it first.
* *
Shortly after the youngest of Preston’s ladies left, the others decided on their order of appearance and scampered off to don their costumes. While he waited, he pondered who they might’ve chosen to appear as. He already knew the three characters Vicki agonized over.
Before he made any hard mental guesses, the sound of beauty sliding over hard wood brought him to the here and now. The vision with a red ribbon in her hair glided into the room. Her full yellow satin skirt floated across the floor like she rode on air. Vicki wasn’t just dressed as Snow White, she was the beautiful princess of Disney fame.
She cupped her hands together beneath her chin and sang a high-pitched aria like Snow White sang to the forest critters in the movie. He stood and clapped. “Well done. This one sure has my vote.”
“But you haven’t even seen the others.”
He spun his finger around. She obediently twirled in a loose circle. “Excellent.”
“Then I shouldn’t even try the others on?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”
She hurried to him, stretched up on her toes, then kissed his cheek. “Don’t you dare send me home. No matter what.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, not with that costume.”
She stepped back beaming and curtsied. With her arms in the air ready for him to step into, she smiled. “Care to dance?”
He waved her away. “Later. The others want to show off, too.”
Her lips turned down into a little girl pout, but her eyes still twinkled. “Okay, but you’re dancing with me sometime before the night’s over. Promise?”
“If you want. Go on now. Marge is next.”
As if it had been planned for weeks, the oldest lady strolled in sixty seconds after the youngest left. She couldn’t have looked more beautiful, from the subtle sparkles on the pale green material that draped her head to the jeweled sandals on her feet, her costume was perfect, even if he wasn’t sure exactly which Bible character she’d chosen. Her darker green shift hung loose from her shoulders. The gathering at her waist by the multi-colored sash modestly accentuated her curves before the material fell in graceful folds to her ankles.
“Lovely. You look perfect.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve always admired Esther’s story.”
He searched the corners of his mind then remembered the tale from Sunday School about the lady who saved her people from being destroyed by pleasing the king. Nancy had a cat named Xerces, Esther’s king she explained after naming the kitten. “Wasn’t she a queen?”
She nodded. “Named in place of Queen Vashti who basically refused to come when the king called. Esther saved her people from an evil man who’d planned their annihilation.”
“I remember now. Yes, I like that story, too. But she couldn’t have been more beautiful than you are right now.” He twirled his finger again, and she turned. “It’s you.” He stood and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
She nodded and met him halfway. He took her in his arms and waltzed around the kitchen. Shame he wasn’t going to Jefferson. He’d love nothing better than dancing the night away with all the ladies. After the second trip, he eased to a stop then held his hand out toward her chair. “Let’s sit a while. I think Vicki’s dying for me to see her second costume.”
Marge slipped into her seat. “She’d have to go some distance to beat the first. Her Snow White outfit was stunning on her.”
He took his chair. “I thought so myself.”
Shortly, Vicki slithered in crowned by a coiled golden serpent. A copper tubing wound from beneath her chin to lay in graceful rows on her chest and made her neck look long, her head held regally high. The shimmering, skin-tight dress dazzled him. She probably had on more make-up than necessary, but it sure transposed her into an Egyptian queen with her eyes fixed on the future of the upper and lower Nile and all those whom she ruled.
“Wow. You look more like Cleopatra than Elizabeth Taylor ever thought about.” Preston shook his head. “I take back my vote for Snow White. This has to be it.”
She seemed to melt. “Are you sure you love this one better?” She looked to her honorary mother. “What do you think, Lady Bug?”
Marge held her chin and shook her head. “Well, as Snow White you definitely portrayed the epitome of innocence and purity, but this, well quite the opposite, but you do look exquisite, dear.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know which is better, darling. They’re both so good.” Preston winked and shooed her out. “Be off to Nottingham. Audrey’s next, then we’ll see your merry maid.”
A few minutes later, the cook marched through the door. For a second, he wasn’t sure who she’d chosen. Her hair clung to her head in soft waves with a twenties look, but her outfit seemed pretty normal to him, except for the Peter Pan collar and red checkered pinafore. Then it hit him. An apron. He should’ve known instantly. “Well, well, Miss Crocker. Or may I call you Betty?”
She grinned. “Oh, definitely Betty to you, kind sir. I know she may not be a who’s who in the literary world, but she’s in a hundred books—or a thousand at least—and once I thought about it, there really wasn’t another choice for me.”
Marge laughed. “Oh, you were so right, Audrey. It’s perfect!”
Preston jumped to his feet, hurried to her chair, and held it out for her. “When you’re right, you’re right, Queen Esther. It’s great.”
Audrey eased into the seat and leaned toward her friend. “So you really think it’ll be all right? I got worried it was too stupid once I had everything ordered.”
“Oh, no. It’s so original. Did you see Vicki’s first two?”
Audrey nodded. “Yes, no wonder she can’t decide.”
Preston took his seat. “She wants me to choose, but I don’t know. Which is your favorite?”
“Oh, both looked great, but if you think about the characters, neither is really her.”
Marge shook her head. “Really? I thought either fit her to a tee.”
Before the debate could continue, the object of thei
r discussion hurried into the room. The rustle of angels’ wings announced her arrival. Yards upon yards of powdery blue, sheer material hung from a pointed hat as though enveloping Maid Marian in a little bit of heaven. Vicki had done something to her hair - twice as much as normal haloed her face with dark ringlets.
She shielded her eyes with her hand then looked around frantically. “Oh, Robin, my love. Where are you? Has anyone seen my Robin?” She hung her hand from her forehead. “Off to rob the rich so the poor may have bread.”
Preston held up his hands. “Forget the others. You look like an angel. Lady Marian is the best.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
She looked to Marge, who nodded, then to Audrey who confirmed it with a nod of her own then added. “Without a doubt.”
He pulled her chair out. “We still haven’t seen Natalie’s. Have a seat.”
Like she’d been hiding in the hall waiting for her turn, Natalie appeared in the doorway with her housecoat draped over her shoulders. She stepped into the room and flipped off the wrap, held out her hands, both to the left, then began to wiggle everything.
Preston couldn’t make his eyes not look, even though he knew he shouldn’t. It had been a long time since he’d seen that much female flesh.
Natalie swished her hips. Her too-short grass-skirt swayed. “What do you think? I’m Princess Liliuokalani from Hawaii.”
He shrugged and managed to avert his eyes. “I don’t know. The folks I judged with were pretty conservative.”
Vicki shook her head. “Don’t listen to him. It’s cute.”
He stood and nodded toward Natalie’s chair. She hula danced her way there.
“You ladies excuse me for a moment.”
* *
Marge watched him disappear then faced Natalie. “I’m with Dub, dear. It’s too, too much. Maybe you should at least rethink the top.”
“Yeah? Well, forget what he said. Didn’t you notice how he couldn’t take his eyes off me?”
Marge wanted to say more, but let it drop. Indeed, she’d seen the look on Preston’s face, one more of shock than anything. Would he ever cease to amaze her with the depth of his goodness? If only things were different. If only he would forget this stupid game he had them playing.
