The Gardener of Aria Manor

by A. L. Duncan

  Ilene picked up the Star of David and pondered over it. “Do you miss your life in America?”

  “No.” Janie surprised even herself with the swiftness of her answer. “I knew the streets, I knew the people. I felt so much a part of it all. And yet, I had begun to realize that it wasn’t where I wanted to be. I guess I had grown tired of being that person, but I had somehow stopped expecting something different. It wasn’t until I came to Aria Manor that I began to find a meaning to my life. I discovered devotion, dreams and desires I never would have believed I would want. I found you. I found love.”

  Moved to tears, Ilene was hesitant to speak. After a long pause, she cleared her throat and said, “Are you sure living at Aria Manor is what you want? Crazy and all?”

  Janie leaned into her. “Actually, there’s something charming about all this craziness.”

  They stood and Janie accepted the pendant from Ilene, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I suppose I’m not making much sense.”

  Ilene exhaled. “You are brilliant and beautiful, brave and foolish, witty and deliriously delicious. I couldn’t imagine life being more wonderful.”

  After a moment, Janie grinned. “You’re right. It’s quite something isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Janie took one last look at the pendant, one last rub. Then, stepped back and hurled it into the surf. The water rose and ebbed, swallowing the pendant as if it were a speck in the great tide of the universe.

  “Why did you do that?” Ilene gasped.

  “I’m letting go—of all of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Even though that pendant has had a profound influence in my life it also has represented everything I have been hanging on to, everything I believed I could understand and change. But those things are from a past that I no longer wish to live.” Turning to Ilene, she held out a hand. “Now my hands are free and open to embrace all of my new world.”

  Ilene smiled warmly as she clasped Janie’s outstretched hand. Arm in arm, Janie and Ilene walked back toward Aria Manor.

  “Think I’ll start with a pickle,” Janie said happily.

  “I’ll ask Anna to fix us a picnic.”

  “That thought is almost as lovely as you are.”

  “Oh, you.”

  ILENE AND JANIE sat alongside the one-acre pond in the pale grasses where they had shared the first stirrings of their love. The peacefulness of this pond already held special meaning to Janie, where poems where formed from hearts already swollen with desires. A lemon-colored quilt was spread with the remnants of a picnic that Anna had prepared, fruit and iced tea. Janie’s head rested in Ilene’s lap while Ilene read Byron, her voice a soft mingle with the clouds above, a warm breeze brushing over them, and crickets creaking a chorus of accompaniment.

  “This faint resemblance of thy charms,” Ilene quoted, “though strong as mortal art could give my constant heart of fear disarms, revives my hopes, and bids me live. Here I can trace the locks of gold which round thy snowy forehead wave, the cheeks, which spring from beauty’s mould, the lips, which made me beauty’s slave...”

  The sound of a bicycle bell sounded from the hill above them, distracting Ilene from her reading. Laying the book aside, she grumbled, “Who could that be?”

  Janie stood. “Sounds like the postman’s bell. I’ll go see what he’s got.”

  Ilene reached for her hand. “Can’t it wait?”

  Janie smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  Cresting the hill, Janie spotted the old postman peddling his bike along the dirt road and fast approaching the manor. Janie stepped out onto the road to greet him, but he flew by her.

  Janie sent a loud whistle after him, and his brakes squealed as he came to a halt.

  Old features peered back over a shoulder and aged eyes squinted through the wafting dust trail. Leaning the bike against a lime tree, he removed his hat and patted the sweat from his brow. Janie hurried to catch up with him.

  “What’s the rush?” she asked as she reached the bike.

  Catching his breath, the postman shoved an envelope toward her. “Message from dockside. It’s urgent, they tell me. It’s for Mrs. Eldridge.”

  “I can give it to her for you.” Taking the envelope from his hand, she smiled. “Thanks, Walter.”

  He nodded and turned his bicycle around. “Thank you, Miss Vaughn. Feeling quite rushed. I ’ave to get the news over to the paper now.”

  As he peddled off past her, Janie called after him. “What news?”

  The brakes screeched again as he stopped to answer. “Mr. Richard Eldridge. Seems ’e wasn’t lost at sea after all.” He chuckled. “Been on some Greek island all this time, mending after a shipwreck, they say. Looks like Aria Manor’s in the headlines again.”

  With a sinking feeling, Janie slid the note into the pocket of her cardigan. She felt the sting of loss cut deeply into her soul. Desolate, she went at once to face Ilene with the distressing news.

  Not noticing Janie’s desolated features, Ilene asked brightly, “So, what did the post bring that was so ungodly urgent, darling? I simply am not feeling like attending another party at Huet Hall. I hope to God it’s not...”

  Ilene looked up to Janie’s obvious despondency. Pulling herself to her feet, she flushed. “Is it news of Father?

  Janie shook her head and pulled out the telegram. “I sort of wish it was,” she said finally.

  Ilene hesitated. With another glance at Janie, she took it and opened it.

  Mr. Eldridge has been located Stop Alive and well Stop Will be at harbor this afternoon Stop

  Ilene gasped and raised a hand to her mouth in shock. “Oh, my God!” She raised her eyes to Janie. “What will we do?”

  JANIE PACED THE servants’ hall and overheard Anna and Liz cackling like hens over the exciting news of Mr. Eldridge’s return. They bustled about, cleaned this and baked that, arranged flowers and even brewed a fresh pot of Earl Grey, Richard’s favorite tea. Once in a while, Ilene, who couldn’t help but nervously measure the black tiles in the entrance hall, would glance up to Janie’s drawn features and meet her eyes. Janie had begun to withdraw herself. Ilene could not know her heart was filled with such despair. Janie was conscious of the anxiety between them in anticipation of the imminent meeting that would so affect their fate. Would Richard expect to find Ilene as the same woman he left so many months ago? Janie wondered briefly. The sound of a motorcar’s horn distracted her from reflecting any more on the subject. She slowly made her way to stand at the door with Ilene and watched impatiently, and with much dread, as Bartley ambled to the door in his usual stiff carriage. He took one glance at the women then opened the door wide. Ilene wiped her sweating hands on her dress and stepped outside. Janie followed close behind, removing any possibility of Ilene retreating.

  A tall, slender man with dark hair pulled himself from the car. He was distracted at first by a cooing welcome from Liz and Anna who had come out to greet him. His dark brown eyes slowly turned their blissful gaze upon Ilene, then darted away as if another thought came to mind, afraid she would notice. Ilene nervously brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead as their eyes met again. She froze for an instant, flushed, then ran up to him. After a breath of hesitation, she leapt into his arms. He laughed, clasping her tightly to him.

  Janie drew a deep, sighing breath and felt tears trickle down her face. She wiped them away and hoped they were not noticed. She turned and went back inside. Her sorrow deepened as she climbed up the stairs. The eminent expanse of the foyer echoed all manner of misery to her. She reached her room and closed the door behind her. Leaning hard against it, it was all she could do to fight the tears and aching heart that pounded, pulsing in her ears her spirit’s desperate protest. She knew what had to be done, and went on resolutely to pack.

  Within the hour, Janie stepped out into the hallway and set two suitcases at her feet. She hesitated before hearing sobbing coming from Oliver’s bedroom. Ilene stood near the window t
hat overlooked the courtyard. Her eyes were fixed on the sprinkling of rain that fell against the glass. Janie stepped in and closed the door behind her. A wistful sigh from Ilene ended in more sobs as she dashed over to her and threw herself into Janie’s arms. For a long moment Janie held her, fighting back tears of her own. Her whole zest of life with Ilene had suddenly vanished. But, this moment, this moment she wanted to last forever. She disregarded her envy for Richard, and the self-deceitful judgment that he could never love Ilene as completely as she had. To escape this sweet pain, to renounce this happiness, Janie didn’t understand how this could be against nature. Finally, Janie firmly held Ilene at arm’s length.

  Ilene searched Janie’s eyes with dire concern. “What is it?”

  “Ilene...I have to go.”

  Ilene was startled, but recovered in an instant. “I see. How long will you be gone?”

  A tear streaked down Janie’s cheek as her eyes cut away. Ilene pulled back. “You’re not coming back,” she breathed.

  “You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to go.”

  Janie snorted and staggered backward. “He’s your husband, Ilene. I can’t stay. Not now.”

  “You can’t go. I won’t let you.”

  Janie winced. “Don’t do this.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Ilene shouted. “You want me to confess my love for you? Well, here it is—”

  “Don’t.”

  “I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone. You’ve shown me a world I only dreamt about. You filled my aching heart with emotions and passions that only two like souls could ever experience. Whoever you were, whatever you’ve done—in this life or the last—it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you were meant to come here to me. Can’t you see that? God cannot have been so cruel as to bring us together just to have our souls torn apart, never to see each other again. I can’t believe that, I won’t believe that.”

  With quiet resolve, Janie said, “I won’t take you from your husband, Ilene. That’s not who I am.”

  Ilene regarded Janie for a long moment. Finally she folded her arms over her chest and turned for the window, staring blankly at the rumbling skies.

  “When would you leave, then?” she asked with forced composure.

  “Michael’s waiting for me now.”

  Ilene’s features paled. “And...where will you go?”

  Janie shrugged. “I hear Vienna’s nice this time of year.”

  Ilene huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes to the heavens.

  Janie grasped hold of Ilene’s arms and parted her lips into the hair that became the essence of her mystery and beauty. In a broken whisper, she added, “I’ll always love you, Ilene.” Janie then forced herself toward the door.

  Janie brushed past Richard in the hallway with slight regard as she strode to the landing. She hesitated briefly as she glanced back at the room, the life, she was leaving behind, then she steeled herself and descended the staircase. In the entrance hall, she meandered pensively, recalling the gleam of the giant Christmas tree in all its splendor. She could still hear the sounds of song and laughter, echoes of which now only haunted Aria Manor for her. She smelled Anna’s cooking wafting from the servants’ hall, and knew she would miss her delicious meals.

  Aria Manor had been kind to her. She had been swept away by the call of seas and chants of birds in their morning prayers, so different from the city life she had known. She had shared poetry on a pond, and lemonade among the roses. And beyond all of this, she had been carried on wings of passion’s brightest star, to have fallen in love. As painful as leaving was, Janie would forever be grateful for her time there.

  With a bittersweet sigh, Janie turned for the door. The ever dutiful Bartley took her baggage. No sooner had she stepped off the stoop than she stopped, tears welling up in her eyes. All the servants of Aria Manor stood in a line, attending her departure. In solemn silence, Bartley stepped into line beside Anna.

  Michael stepped forward to gather up her luggage.

  “We won’t know how to act without you,” Anna said, sniffing.

  “Who’s going to eat all the pickles?” Liz asked.

  Janie choked out a laugh. “I think your girls will love pickles, Liz.” Looking to the ever stalwart Gil, she said, “You don’t mind being head gardener now, do you Gil?”

  “I said I’d take care of it, woman,” he said gruffly.

  Janie smirked at the twinkle in his eye. “Yeah. You sure did.”

  Standing beside the car, Janie looked up at the window above. She swallowed hard at seeing Ilene standing there, gazing back. And there Ilene still stood as the car pulled away.

  The car passed beneath the neatly trimmed boughs of the lime trees and away from the manor. Janie did not look back.

  SHOWERS BURST FROM the low lying clouds, and rain pelted the glass, distorting Ilene’s view of the departing car. So lost in thought was she that she did not hear Richard’s entrance, nor did she acknowledge his presence until he spoke.

  “Um...we have to talk,” Richard said quietly. “I’m not quite sure where to start, seeing there’s no good way to say this. But, well...there’s something you must know, I believe. And I know that you are never one to beat about the bush. I believe under the circumstances...well, you see...” After a deep breath, he added in a rush, “I don’t believe I’m staying on at Aria Manor.”

  Her mind on Janie’s departure, Ilene had paid little attention to Richard’s words until she heard him say that he was not staying. She abruptly turned toward him and lent an attentive ear.

  “While I’ve been some time away,” he continued. “I...that is...well, I was quite ill and required constant care, and, well, this woman, she took very good care of me, nursed me back to health. I mightn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for her. You’d like her, I think, under different circumstances, of course.” He nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Greek girl. She...we’re...in love. You see, we...we have a baby.”

  Stunned and elated, Ilene stared at him blankly as her own concerns raced through her mind. Her pulse quickened with hope and then she grew pale at the thought that Janie was already gone.

  “I know this must come as quite a shock to you,” Richard said, noting Ilene’s pallor and suddenly rapid breathing.

  Ilene whisked past him wordlessly, leaving him alone with his confusion.

  “Poor girl,” she heard him mutter. “You’re taking it harder than I thought.”

  Dashing down the stairs, Ilene almost ran over Anna and Liz in the entrance hall, scattering Liz’s basket of flowers.

  “Great saints, mum!” Anna hooted. “What’s wrong?”

  Scurrying to the door in joyous tears, Ilene shouted, “Richard’s leaving! I’ve got to stop that car!”

  Anna looked after her quizzically. “But, he just got here.”

  Ilene shrieked at the first cold slap of rain as she ran outside, yet she continued across the pebbled drive and through the puddles to lay open the doors to the carriage house. Deathly afraid, she steeled her resolve and jumped into Oliver’s red convertible, hoping to God that she could make use of her one driving lesson.

  The car bucked and barreled out of the carriage house at full tilt, swerving this way and that, practically running over Gil, who lost his balance and dropped his armful of logs.

  WIND AND RAIN gusted against her window, but Janie was oblivious to it. Her gaze was cast out upon the breakers at sea, their thundering din calling to her a farewell of sorts. The rain kept Michael’s speed slow enough that she could take in the familiar sight one last time.

  Michael raised an eye to check on Janie when he noticed a vehicle in his rearview mirror. “Carolyn?”

  “Hmm.”

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  Janie looked behind them and saw Oliver’s car in apparent pursuit and moving dangerously fast. It took every bump and curve, dip and sway the rutted, muddy road threw in its path,
and stayed on its course.

  Staring in dismay, Janie waved at Michael. “Stop the car, Michael.”

  Janie turned to watch the reaction of the other driver in time to see the car go into a skid as the driver stomped on the brake. The motorcar lunged sideways and slid to a stop, balanced precariously on the cliff’s edge. Screams were swept away by the wind as Janie and Michael climbed out of their seats and ran towards the car.

  “Ilene!”

  Janie tore open the door and pulled Ilene from the vehicle just before its weight carried it over the cliff and into the ravine far below. Ilene clung to Janie with desperation. Her body shook as they both watched the vehicle slumped to rest upside down. Pushing Ilene an arm’s distance away, Janie shouted, “What are you, nuts?”

  “I had to stop you.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You must listen to me. He’s not staying.”

  “Ilene, please don’t do this.”

  Janie turned and marched back toward the manor.

  “He has a baby!”

  Janie was afraid that the incessant rain was distorting Ilene’s words. She was afraid to hope, afraid that she was reading something unintended into what she thought she had heard. Reluctant to snuff out the last ray of hope, she finally looked back at Ilene.

  Ilene was shaking uncontrollably. “For God’s sake, he’s in love with somebody else,” she sobbed. “Please,” Ilene begged through her tears. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Her heart swelling with relief and love and gratitude, Janie hurriedly slipped and slid back to Ilene until they were close enough to sweep each other into a fervent embrace.

  Epilogue

  JANIE STILL COULD’T believe her twist of fate. After all these years she had realized there was nothing more precious than grasping hold of something that comes out of nowhere, and making the best of it. She had heard it said that’s how dreams come true. Beautiful dreams she never knew she had, influenced by the common burden of wanting. The old manner of life had changed for Janie. But, the blush of life, inspired by such a lovely and truly encouraging admiration of each day, had softened the smile and deepened an unshakable spirit.