Arthur laughed and mimicked an injury to his chest. Spreading their arms wide they joined in a union reminiscent of long separated siblings.
“And H. Trent…how good it is to see you. We are so excited that you’ve been able to join us.” The men locked hands in genuine warmth and Christina stood back in the pleasure of witnessing their greeting.
Arthur turned his appraising eyes back to Christina. “It seems that a young girl left the islands and a rather independent woman has returned in her place. You look…different…great…Christina. Really…your hair…everything. Oh I’m glad you’re here. He embraced her again.
Christina knew intuitively what Arthur meant. She had lost weight not of her own choosing but such that her cheekbones were more defined giving her face a more mature somewhat sophisticated quality. Her hair too, was more tailored as were her clothes. She looked much more the image held of a university teaching assistant. But Arthur had sensed more. He saw the barrier, the distance she had developed between herself and life. That was it she thought to herself suddenly, life, she had protected herself now from life. It made coming to Tortola possible.
“Do you approve?” she asked spreading her hands casually before his appraisal.
“How could I not? It’s hard for me to imagine you any lovelier.”
“You’re a diplomatic rake, Arthur Vaughn and flattery will get you everywhere…particularly to helping me with my luggage.” Christina laughed as she directed the two men toward the customs check.
“Christina seems to have, for some reason, been quite indecisive about what to bring to wear so I fear she’s gone a bit to the side of excess.” H. Trent evaluated mockingly.
Arthur motioned for one of the many zealous porters. “Then we will meld her indecision with a decisive tip.”
The three of them joined in a shared moment of laughter over Arthur’s sidestepping the labor of the luggage.
Arthur and H. Trent settled into a comfortable conversation that began to breach the years over which they had not seen each other. Christina sat in the back of the car alone and letting the smell of citrus flowers blend with the tropical sun in a soothing sensation across her skin.
“…and the cannon’s bore. I was quite pleased to see it covered with encrustations. But for that singular happening the box might well have disintegrated. Perhaps even been thrown out by some marine inhabitant.”
“I thought that too,” Arthur replied. “You would have been so proud of Christina, H. Trent. She was very professional. She was a fitting and qualified emissary. I’m sorry our experience together was so brief.”
H. Trent looked over his shoulder and smiled at Christina.
The reality of her presence on the island began to stir uncomfortably within Christina as the car passed through the picturesque, sleepy town, its late afternoon colors radiating warmth between the pale stucco buildings. Her encounters with Clay, her conversations with Arthur and Emily, her tasks affiliated with the dive had all occurred in the many familiar landmarks around her. The past seemed closer than she had anticipated. The thoughts gave her cause to wonder about how she would deal with what would inevitably occur during the next week. In Seattle she had regained a control on her feelings. She had felt safe, but here…
Chapter 22
As the car traveled the long driveway of the Vaughn home, Christina’s feelings of circumventing an understanding of time began to rise. She had experienced this arrival before, yet was not experiencing it at the moment. Staring out the window and away from Arthur and her father she could not place herself either in time nor with whom she was now riding. Was she with her father, Arthur, Clay, alone? Was she arriving for the first time, just back from a dive or trying to calm her body after one of the many encounters with Clay. Would she look down at her hand and see the newly discovered ring of a Spanish noblewoman or the sack containing the black dress she had purchased for the party at which she had first met Emily Sinclair. Her confusion was pushing its way forward pulling a degree of anxiety along its path.
As they arrived at the house and Arthur spoke to Christina her mind left her disassociated state and traveled on a zip line into the present.
“How does it feel to be back home?” Arthur asked, expectation in the soft interest of his voice. He reached to help Christina from the car.
“Isn’t it lovely, Daddy?” Her eyes traveled across the vine covered walls, her ears listening for the familiar sound of the water fountain in the courtyard.
“Christina, darling,” Agatha cooed, as she welcomed them into her home…. “Oh look at you all thin and your hair finally redone. How charming. Christina I’ve invited many reluctant guests to tea before, but no one has ever taken an early flight and left the island to avoid my invitation. You were very naughty but I forgive you. H. Trent….,” Agatha had turned away from Christina in a dismissive manner, “my dear, dear friend. How well you look. My, yes…aren’t you a handsome sight for this old woman.”
“Agatha, the same as ever. You’ll never be old and you know it.” He momentarily redirected his attention to Christina. “What did my rather impetuous daughter do?” His face looked quizzical.
“Never mind that…just a little joke I have with her. How long has it been?” Agatha took both of H. Trent’s hands and stood back looking seductively into his face. “It doesn’t matter; it’s been much too long. Come, come..,” Agatha tethered her willing guest into the living room.
Arthur and Christina followed the pair in what seemed to Christina a miniature pageant celebrating Agatha’s flamboyance.
“Oh, I have such plans, such plans,” she dramatized, “H. Trent, I trust you still dance?”
“Now that she has seen him, my mother I fear, may try to overpower your father with social events and private happenings,” Arthur whispered to Christina.
“It will be good for him,’ Christina replied, “He hasn’t kept his libido in the forefront of his consciousness for a long time. Our biggest concern will have to be keeping up with them, I suppose.”
“H. Trent,” Agatha announced, “I’ve prepared your quarters here in the house and Christina of course the cottage is just as it was when you visited last. I’ve even left those silly little souvenirs on the nightstand just where you left them. I hope that you will still approve of your arrangements in the cottage.”
Christina knew that this was not a question but rather an instruction but she was in ready agreement and looking forward to the privacy of the cottage once more.
H. Trent having been seduced by the veils of Agatha’s attention began to busily tell Agatha of some friend that Christina had never heard of and both seemed thoroughly engrossed in the small talk of reunion. Christina considered, for a moment her degree of surprise at her father’s apparent acquaintance with the Vaughn’s. It seemed odd, that she had not thought about it before but it was apparently a relationship in which she had not been included during her childhood. She wondered, briefly, if her mother had.
“I think I’ll freshen up in the cottage,” Christina informed the small group. “I’m suddenly very tired.”
“Of course you are, my darling. Arthur, help Christina with her things. Jonathan is off today, I’m afraid.”
Christina whispered playfully to Arthur, “Ah, Johnathan off today, didn’t I know that at the airport,” her tone was teasing.
He bumped her with the suitcase, “Get going.”
“Dinner will be at eight, dear. Why don’t you rest until then?” Agatha’s attention returned coyly to H. Trent. “Eight sharp,” she called a second time, not looking away from her handsome new guest.
The cottage was just as she had remembered it. The late afternoon sun was dancing across the beautifully kept floors and through the scented foliage around the windows. Christina walked slowly through the cottage touching the carefully selected books and objects of art. She paused at the window and looked down into the harbor and out into the direction of the shipwreck. Sea birds crisscrossed the airway below her w
indow and Christina wondered for a moment if someone might be looking back up at her white clad image in the green framed window from far below. If they could see her would they sense her fear? Would they speculate about her apprehensions? She turned and entering the bathroom began to run water into the deep, cool tub.
Within minutes Christina stepped into the water’s silky, perfumed depths and lowering herself slowly she evaluated her thin body which was still probably considered attractive by others, but too thin to her liking.
With all of the intentional controls she had put around her life since her relationship with Clay she had not been able to eat or sleep as well as she knew she needed to.
The water engulfed her; relaxed her and the security and privacy of the cottage began to radiate a sense of relief through her. In this place, this tiny sanctuary in the garden she was secure, safe, alone. She opened her eyes and looked out at what represented the other side of her feelings, the harbor, the docks.
…
The next morning, at mid-morning brunch, Agatha made certain Christina ate a substantial meal, making public note of how little she had eaten at dinner the night before. “You are starting to look like one of Emily’s friends….Ah….H. Trent, men’s tastes in women’s figures have changed so much, don’t you agree?” Her hand reached to his arm.
“Christina has actually been gaining some weight I believe, haven’t you?” Her father gave her an evaluative glance. “I was worried about her for a while when she first came back.” H. Trent took a sip of tea. “I think she looks rather good now.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Christina acknowledged. “Actually I don’t weigh too much less than when I was here, Agatha but thank you for your concern,” Christina’s tone was cool.
“You’re right, it is none of my concern….Well, tell me about your plans for the day….up until four o’clock that is.” Agatha was leaning forward on her elbows, looking up into her father’s flattered eyes.
“I think the three of us are going to see the ring at the Office of Registry, aren’t we Arthur, and we should be back…oh…by mid-afternoon…hum?” He looked at Arthur for affirmation.
“I’m sure that we will,” Arthur replied.
“I’d like to do some shopping,” Christina injected. “I might stay a bit longer, if I can have someone pick me up later.”
“Certainly. Why don’t we take both cars,” Arthur suggested. “You know your way around this place as well as anyone.”
…
Under the admiring scrutiny of Mr. Pennwalter’s gaze H. Trent held the ring before him with such fascination that Christina’s eyes moistened with emotion. To see the realization of years of speculation was for her father a link to his past of particular significance; a personal resolution to a long delayed dream.
After a lengthy discussion with Mr. Pennwalter the group made the necessary decisions about the presentation on Friday. Christina was not totally happy with the decision to have her speak before a large group but she relented, agreeing to speak if her father would join her on the stage and speak first about the background of the discovery.
“I think I’ll go now Arthur. I have some errands to run.” Christina was the first to rise.
“H. Trent interrupted, “Which is to say that Christina will buy at least two new outfits….” He smiled at the other man.
“Which is to say gentlemen…” Christina smiled, “… that my father is right.” She joined the humor of the moment and bid the men to sit again and continue their discussion.
Walking the short distance from the Office of Registry to the commercial area of town Christina took particular time to look in shop windows at the brightly colored vines and flowers scaling stucco walls and at the costumes and faces of the people. She had learned to see things differently through Clay’s book and his instruction. There was now in her perceptions more quality and greater depth and meaning to the things and people she looked at, she thought, despite the hurt that she had also come to know through her experience with him.
In a small shop where she had earlier purchased the dress for Agatha’s introductory party Christina indifferently looked through blouses and swimsuits. Buying something seemed pointless but yet she felt as if she should get something…be again fond of something.
She wandered through the market and bought a piece of fruit. She walked purposefully past the jail building and back towards a fabric store near the docks. Just near another store front, its window a colorful display of tropical prints, someone called her name. The voice was hesitant and inquisitive.
“Christina. Oh hello; good it is you.”
Christina had turned and found herself looking - to her dismay - at Penny, whose arm was entwined in that of a handsome casually dressed young man in sandals.
“You are Christina, aren’t you…Clay’s friend?”
“Yes, I am.” Her voice faltered; her legs threatened betrayal. “We met at the parade; I believe…you have a very good memory, indeed.”
“Oh, not really,” Penny explained. “Clay showed me the pictures of the dive and I recognized you from them. You must have been very proud. Clay was certainly sad when the project was completed. Turned into a veritable grouch.” Penny grimaced and laughed.
The young man with Penny extended his hand, “I’m Doug. Penny likes to keep my identity a secret.” His wide amiable smile greeted Christina and then he turned the expression towards Penny who had poked his ribs.
“Doug is my husband, Christina; can’t stand being left out of things for a moment.” She playfully bared her teeth at Doug and looked back at Christina.
Christina’s confusion over the meeting and Penny’s introduction of Doug, gave her an awareness of their relationship. “…but I thought you and Clay….” she caught herself, embarrassed at such a suggestion in front of Doug. She immediately apologized, “I’m sorry…that was….”
Penny saved her from a clumsy apology over the implication. “You thought Clay and I were….” Penny paused, her words light with disbelief. Penny’s voice cracked in realization of Christina’s thoughts and her head moved back in embarrassed laughter. Doug scowled, a smile still present, but mixed with an expression of confusion.
Recognizing Christina’s apparent distress Penny insisted, “No, no, no…I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you Christina,” Penny touched Christina’s arm, “I just have never thought of Clay and myself in that way. He’s like, well…my brother or father or something like that. In fact, he was our…,” she squeezed Doug’s arm, “bridesmaid - sort of - at our wedding.”
Doug injected, “We didn’t think, now that I remember, that Clay would even make it back from his trip with you in time to get Penny to our wedding in St. Thomas. I was working over there at the time.”
Christina’s temples were pounding, her face red with emotion and embarrassment. “I feel sort of stupid…I….” She was without words.
“Christina,” Penny let go of Doug’s arm and redirected her words to him, “Doug why don’t you go check on the boys. They are probably terrorizing the bakery.”
“Okay,” Doug replied. “Christina, it was nice to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.” He redirected his eyes to Penny, “I…ah…hope you’re not right about the kids.” His look teased Penny and turned back to Christina, “I’m gone from home quite a bit. Always have been glad that Clay is around to look after Penny and the boys.”
Penny playfully hit Doug in the shoulder, “Go!”
“It was nice meeting you Doug,” Christina’s voice was relaxing, warming with a tone of self-consciousness.
Looking after Doug’s departure, Christina offered, “Penny, I’m so embarrassed, I don’t know why I blurted that out…I….”
“Don’t be silly. Doug has an odd sense of humor. He didn’t think anything of it Christina. Clay was my first husband’s best friend after we moved here to the islands. Jim worked as a research diver for Clay’s parents’ oil company. He…” Penny’s words stumbled, “…Jim died off th
e gulf in an oil rig accident.” Penny’s expression reflected an inner pain that she had learned to carefully control. “Clay has looked after the boys and me ever since.” She quietly laughed in embarrassment. “He took a year almost to decide whether or not it was all right for me to date Doug. Without him, I don’t really know what would have happened to us.” Her words were sincerely doubtful of her fate.
Christina was silent for a moment and then momentarily turned away. Taking in a deep breath she finally said, “Oh, Penny, I’ve been so foolish.” Christina raised her hands to her eyes. “I left the island because I thought you and Clay were having an affair.” Her eyes were moist and she searched her bag for a tissue.
“Here,” Penny moved to her side and offered her a napkin that had held a biscuit from the bakery. “Christina, Christina…why didn’t you ask someone. Everyone knows about Clay and me.”
Through her tears, Christina laughed, “That’s exactly what Emily Sinclair said…everyone knows about Clay and Penny, but I thought….”
“Don’t stay hung up on what you thought, Christina. It’s already obviously, hurt you enough. Why don’t you go talk with Clay? He’s probably been hurt by his pride too. He has been in a brooding mood ever since you left and while you were here it was obvious that he was crazy about you.”
“I couldn’t,” Christina replied, shaking her head.
“Isn’t that what caused the problem for you to begin with…reluctance and assumptions about Clay? Give him a chance, Christina. He’s cautious but never unforgiving…especially in your case, especially when it was his damn sense of privacy that probably led to your misunderstanding about me.”
Penny’s children came running up behind her, “Mom, Mom, Doug said if it was all right with you, we could get some ice cream…can we, can we, please?”
“Doug believes the way to a child’s heart is through blackmailing their mother into non-stop junk food purchases.”
Courier of Love Page 19
