She seized his face, looking into it with firm intensity. “You’re all I need.”
As they kissed, Faye’s mind returned to itself. Her feet suddenly began to operate in obedience to her wishes instead of on their own volition. She was running. Running, running. Without consciousness of doing so, she clambered into the boat, her trembling hands gripping the oar and pushing it away. The fatal purse lay safely in the bottom of the boat as she rowed down the stream. She could feel herself sweating. Beads came out on her forehead, and she longed to look behind her but refrained even though she knew the gazebo was now out of sight. Soon she would be back at the house.
What should I do now? I can’t tell Mr. Rivers. It would be gossiping. Wouldn’t it?
Honestly, she didn’t feel completely sorry for him, much as she despised Myrtle’s behavior. Which would make communicating the situation to him even more difficult. Perhaps it wasn’t really her responsibility to do so. No matter how badly Myrtle was behaving, her lack of interest in her affianced had been pretty flagrant before. He’d chosen to ignore it for his own motives, and now this had happened. I’d best get back.
She started as a creaking noise sounded ahead of her. She’d rowed the boat without thinking, farther than she’d imagined. Suddenly it was back at the little pier. And there, an upright, looming shadow, was Mr. Rivers—the man himself.
Faye gulped as her boat slid alongside him. Mr. Rivers was glaring. He looked furious.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing out here, young woman?” he snapped. Gone was the patented drawl of the condescending businessman. Even in the dark she could see the tight muscles of his face, his clenched jaw. “This is a restricted area.”
You betcha. And I’ll do my best to keep you out of it. “I’m sorry, I know it’s off-limits after dark. But Ed and I went here when it was open and I left my handbag.” She held it up. “A purse is a lifeline to a woman, you know. Couldn’t live without it.”
Mr. Rivers tapped his foot. He didn’t appear to have heard her explanation. His gaze was beyond her, out into the marsh. Faye, looking over her shoulder in the direction he gazed, realized in a flash that he might be aware Myrtle was in the gazebo. His affronted, receding eyes rolled down to look at her. His face was pink. Her face held what she knew was the definition of a plastic smile.
So this—this is what it means to feel awkward.
Chapter 9
Since Mr. Rivers made no effort to help her get out of the boat, Faye clambered out by herself and tied it to the pier. He was still looking into the swamp beyond as she innocently toddled up to him. His eyes lowered to her with a rather bad imitation of majestic calm, and his tone was dangerously stiff, coming through almost immobile teeth.
“And what was so important that you had to be in there, young woman? I needed that boat to get across into the gazebo. I had left my affianced and Mr. Carter there. They wanted to take a picture of me and her against the wild scenery, but my camera was in the house . . . .” He broke off, grinding his teeth. “And now you have delayed me! It is too dark for photography!”
Faye held out a hand to stop him, for he was still vigorously, almost fiercely clambering into the boat. He had clearly ignored her excuse about needing her purse, his mind on far more personal topics. Admittedly, being a man he’d probably never owned a purse and didn’t know how personal they could be. “Um, they’ve gone away. You needn’t follow them.”
Mr. Rivers’ head shot up. His eyes narrowed. “Gone? Gone where?”
Little white lie. Little white lie. Surely God doesn’t punish those? “I saw them going away in another boat when I was recovering my purse. I don’t know where they got the second boat . . . and it’s dark anyway.” She trailed off. “As you said, I think the photography session’s probably over.”
Bill withdrew his hand and let the boat drift back on the small, rippling current.
“Maybe . . . we should go on back to the house now? You think?” Faye suggested, quietly.
Mr. Rivers let out a deep sigh. Then, with a sudden venomous movement he tore the bulky camera strap from around his neck and dashed the whole contraption into the water. Faye watched openmouthed as the expensive camera slowly sank into the murky green depths of the inlet. Without speaking—or acknowledging her efforts to help him in his disappointment—Mr. Rivers marched back to the house. Faye quickly followed. Even though she knew the whole area was deserted except for her wayward cousin and Horace, she was glad enough to head out of the darkened trees. Not that Mr. Rivers was much company. His mouth was in a hard line, and his saggy chest heaved with fury as he stamped ahead of her. So much for thanks. Maybe I should have just told you the truth.
The twenty-minute walk passed in somber silence. As they approached the house, the party was in full swing. Mr. Rivers scowled bitterly at the painful irony of this mirth in contrast to his sunken camera and possible sunken dreams. I wonder whose idea the party was? Perhaps his mother’s? Oh, wait . . . probably Myrtle’s. No wonder he looks so sour. He seemed to find Faye’s presence a burden, and they soon separated within the crowd. Hot dogs were cooking, people were splashing into the pool, and Grover was trying to flirt with a peaky-looking producer’s wife wearing a fur wrap. A few sailors had also strayed in from the town nearby, drinking soda and hooting. Faye smiled. Her brother Warnie was in the navy, and it never failed to bring proud tears to her eyes to see those patriotic boys who served their country or who had served in the past. Even though it’s been twenty years since the Great War, people still remember. I’m so thankful we’ll never have a conflict like that again. But she hoped people would not forget even into their eighties the service these men of the armed forces had done for their country and continued to do, protecting it vigilantly even in times of peace.
The very sight of them reminded her how long it had been since she’d seen Warnie. He’d joked that he’d joined the navy only because it was always looking for poor white trash like him. But she knew he was honored to serve his country. He was currently employed training new navy recruits in the basics of life on board the U.S.S. California. And while she loved Warnie to death, he was a bit of rascal. His hobby was terrorizing women until he figured out what annoyed them, and it had worked like a charm on her cousins, who were loudly scornful and secretly terrified of him. He had visited Bellevere occasionally for Christmas, because Uncle Warren thought it a good gesture, and Myrtle and BeBe had never recovered. Faye smothered a smile at the memory, her eyes dancing. They weren’t used to the rough humor of the military, even though he’d gentled it down for them.
As she tiptoed through the crowd, trying to find someone—anyone—she knew, she passed two gents in plaid suits. They seemed to be advertising men and were comparing two colored posters to be displayed in store windows later in the year. Though the posters were not full-size, only samples, Faye could see they were lingerie advertisements. Faye had to admit a purchase of silky new interior wear always made her feel like a different woman. Oh goodness, is this what Ed would call the psychological effect of advertising? Laughing, she put a hand to her head. That Ed, what a hoot.
There they were! Ed and Helene had wisely come early to the pool and appropriated prime patio chairs in a comfortable corner. Lanterns attached to palm trees by Faye herself swayed over their heads. As Faye edged towards them—barely avoiding being knocked into the pool by some rowdy shirtless boys—Helene put down the drink she had been sipping and hallooed to her.
“Oh, there you are, Faye! We hoped you hadn’t had an unlucky time. We didn’t see you for hours.”
You have no idea. “Oh, no need to worry about me. I . . . uh . . . took care of myself.”
Ed latched his thumbs through his suspenders, leaning back on the patio chair. He looked unconcerned, innocent even, but Faye couldn’t help wondering whether some rakish idea of annoying her was in his mind. If he’d been flirting with Helene, Faye was pretty sure he’d like to taunt her about it at some point That was just like him
, the old darling.
“Hey, no need to worry about Faye. She was probably in the orange groves. She’ll graze—she’ll get along.” He shot Faye a cocky smile. “Just like a horse, right, Faye?”
Riiight. At the far end of the pool, Myrtle and Horace now trailed in with a mumbled excuse. Diverted from Ed by their arrival, Faye saw the sly look Horace gave his sister as Mr. Rivers took Myrtle aside and remonstrated with her. Faye could see them, but not hear the words. Mr. Rivers’ gestures expressed suspicious frustration. Myrtle was nonchalant. She stroked his arm and whispered something in his ear. Mr. Rivers seemed a little mollified and sulkily followed her towards the hot dogs.
When Faye broke out of the daze she’d entered as she watched their maneuvers, she realized that Ed and Helene had returned to the conversation they’d been having before she arrived. “Of course, the house is my father’s property. But it’s also ours. By law.”
Helene slapped his arm. “Ah, you bad boy. But, until he dies, it’s only yours in theory, and there must be some difference between theory and fact. For instance, when we talk about our attraction it’s theoretical, not actual.”
“Are you saying our conversations are not real?” Ed asked, lounging with both legs out in front of him and an arm around her chair back.
Helene giggled and tapped his hand with a fork. “No, I’m saying our relationship is fake. It is a puff of smoke. Our conversations are, sadly, quite real.”
“All great discoveries begin with theories. This is the modern age, after all,” Ed replied.
Helene reached over and squeezed Faye’s hand. “Faye, help me please. As a dear twin in crime, please let us conspire together to erase that smirk off his face. Or possibly erase him completely. There is too much of him, and I need your help.”
“Why do you call each other sisters?” Ed inquired, a teasing grin spreading on his face. He helped himself to a soda. “Didn’t know all women viewed themselves as related. Wait . . .” –he pointed the bottle first at Faye and then at Helene— “ . . . wait, this is about me, isn’t it? I’m what unites you, aren’t I?”
Helene let out a shocked gasp. “Nonsense! Of course, we both admire your vigorous interest in morning calisthenics.”
“Boring morning calisthenics,” Faye chimed in.
Ed looked a bit startled and bit his lip. “I didn’t know you thought they were boring, Faye.”
Oh, honestly. As if watching someone stretch on the front lawn every day for ten years, in full view of Parkdale, was interesting! “We don’t talk much about your exercise routines, you know, Ed,” she said, meekly.
Helene waggled her purse. “I’ll take Faye’s word for it, and I’m glad I wasn’t around to see the actual exercising. But it does keep you muscled and with that healthy outdoor glow. We look like little peppermint sticks next to you.”
“Absolutely,” Faye agreed, demurely. Peppermint sticks? Gosh, you’re really trying. And gosh, you’ll probably succeed. Ed is so vain he won’t see you’re lying.
Ed took a bit of bacon-on-a-stick and hummed it towards Helene’s nose. She rebuffed it, tossing her head. “This is a woman of culture you’re dealing with, Mr. Haverton. There’s no need to poke that food in my face. I can have a little fun and still keep my dignity, right Faye?”
“Sure,” said Faye.
A hush fell over the crowd as Mrs. Rivers came forward. The band music died down, and the girls in the pool stopped splashing, bobbing up to the surface as a silence fell. Clusters of lifeguards, sailors, and socialites looked up from their conversations around the potted palms and hot-dog carts. Mrs. Rivers, wearing a large cross on a twenties-style headband across her forehead, held up her hands.
“Now, now everyone! My son welcomes you all. We hope you have a load of fun tonight. But it wouldn’t be right to eat without first thanking our Creator, now would it? Please follow me in a moment of prayer.”
Bless her! Bless her heart. Faye’s eyes swelled with tender emotion. How perfectly true. It wasn’t right to have a party without God’s blessing. And how she respected the old woman’s temerity in the face of the flippant new generation. It was righteous, hardworking people like her who deserved respect, deserved to be heard. The roaring rush of the twentieth century sometimes made people forget to stop and think. There was so much that the wiser, older generation had to offer and when they spoke up people should listen. This subtle intuition was not felt by Faye alone. As if under the spell of Mrs. Rivers’ dignity and resolution, even the grease-haired young men and half-dressed swimmers bowed their heads—clearly not used to doing it—while she said a few words. Faye was glad to breathe quietly and hear the hushed breathing of those around her. It was a good feeling, a shared optimism focused on Christ’s power to change lives and direct them. The moment had a powerful effect on all. Men removed their hats, and not one person dared to make a noise even if they had no particular conviction.
I pray for each of the people here and for their lives. I pray you will touch Bill Rivers with your spirit of hope and forgiveness and that Myrtle and Horace will see the error of their ways. Lord, I pray for a peaceful resolution, even if that seems like a miracle at this point. You are the God of miracles.
She was sorry when Mrs. Rivers broke the calm with an announcement to let the fireworks begin. Movement was restored in a flash. Suddenly it was very noisy. Short skirts, pumps, and men with hats ran past her towards the lawn to get a better view of the fireworks. As Faye rose to follow them, she overheard Helene whisper behind her, to Ed:
“Doesn’t she know it’s over? Oh, don’t say she was really praying?”
Faye turned around, frowning. Helene, catching her eyes, seemed embarrassed her words had come out so bluntly. Ed’s face was noncommittal.
“Oh, not at all. I mean it doesn’t really matter,” Helene retreated, quickly. “I’m all about personal decision in these matters. For everyone.”
Ed shrugged. “Faye’s had to chip her way through life, and it makes her see things a little differently. Religion is very important to her. And I’ve got to say, faith still has some things to teach us.”
Faye had walked on in order to distance herself and make the moment less awkward. But she couldn’t resist turning back to see them, and when she did, she saw Helene’s face had gone cold. Looking at them both, it flashed on her that the topic of religion had never come up between them. Helene was struggling to sound suave, clearly extremely startled. She gulped, her eyes narrowed on Ed.
“I assume you mean she’s also different from you? After all, you’ve talked so much about psychology and science and—well, you did seem to have a hold on what’s relevant. On the future. It’s all very well for the older generation. But for younger people like you and me, and like Faye, it doesn’t offer anything.”
Ed smiled. “Well, I still think there’s a place for faith in these times. If only to offer some peace and guidance. The modern world, as you so rightly call it, isn’t the stable place our grandfathers knew. How do you know some disaster like the Great War won’t overtake us again? And in that moment, God is where I’d turn.”
Faye had assumed the Carters’ views on religion were slight, but Helene’s reaction indicated she was not indifferent to religion after all. She actively disliked it. So far, so good. Faye wasn’t truly surprised. But she could not understand why Ed hadn’t agreed with Helene to please her. Weren’t his convictions more like hers than like Faye’s? Helene had every reason to be surprised by his behavior. Maybe I haven’t understood him. She knew Ed was brilliant and slippery, always the right thing to say to everybody. Perhaps she’d been deceived by him too, and under that clever façade lay a real bedrock of honest appreciation for God and his ways. But then—with the right thing always said to everybody, why was Ed talking like this to Helene? He must know she’ll take offense. What’s going on?
During the fireworks show, Helene drifted away. The lawn was too crowded for Faye to feel comfortable, so she drifted back along the now deserted
pool and took Helene’s vacated deck chair. Ed had not moved from his and scooched over a little closer to her as she lay back to watch the sky. For a while she barely noticed him, her eyes on the red and blue firecrackers that lit up the sky. But then she glanced at him and noticed how his eyes glowed softly in the firework light, though she could still detect a roguish mockery under there. Dear Ed. Aside from her doubts that he could help Helene in her spiritual journey, she had complete peace about consigning him to her beautiful friend. It only made her better friends with him than ever. Fonder of him too. Helene would be pleased. Every woman wants a man other women like. Sighing happily, she dropped her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Ed reached into his pocket and took out a small black box. “Hey, Faye,” he whispered. “I got you this. A little birthday gift. I know your birthday was last week, but everybody forgot it because we were planning the trip. Hope you like it.”
Entranced, Faye opened the box. Inside was a pretty little pearl necklace. She smiled, tucking curly hair behind her face. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”
They shared a smile, but she quickly looked away. It was the gift of a friend—the friend Ed had always been and the friend he always would be. But nothing more. As she saw Helene coming back towards them, Faye knew Ed would never be anything more than that. A friend who was extremely charming, extremely conceited, and gave away extremely expensive pearl necklaces. But she was quite happy with that. It was more than most people had, after all. Most friends wore working clothes and didn’t give you any kind of jewelry at all. I don’t want anything more.
Chapter 10
By the end of the return journey from Florida, the Carters and Havertons were fast friends. They had bonded together like covalent atoms and now spent almost every hour of every day together. Ed was devoted to Helene, or appeared to be. To the extent his roving mind could ever be pinned down, she had an effect on him. He was . . . Faye could only describe it as more gentle. On another man it might have been called devotion or adoration. On Ed it was steady attention. They weren’t jerks about it and always took care to include her whenever she showed up or accidentally stumbled into their talks. And she’d found a really trustworthy friend in Helene (a soul-sister, as Helene jazzily called it), one that she didn’t want to lose over something silly like a man. I wonder why I didn’t bring this out in Ed? But secretly she knew it was because she hadn’t tried. Maybe she’d just never been quite sure she could trust him. Anyway, the opportunity that created wasn’t Helene’s fault.
Bellevere House (Vintage Jane Austen) Page 8
