His 1-800 Wife

by Shirley Hailstock

  Robert nodded in agreement. It was one thing to wish and hope, but they both knew people often acted one way and thought another. He had stood watching Catherine swim. She was alone in the pool and he'd had lifeguard training. If she got into trouble, he would be there to help, but he also liked watching her move. And he didn't think anyone had ever seen him looking.

  Together they walked back toward their cars. "I'll see you at Elizabeth's tonight?" Robert asked.

  "I'm going home to dress now."

  Jarrod heard the soft tone he used when he said Elizabeth's name. It was the second time he'd noticed it. Had it always been there and he not known it before? There was more going on with his friend than he had told him. Jarrod had his secrets too, things he couldn't, wouldn't talk to Robert about. It appeared the same thing was true of Robert.

  "See you there," Robert said in farewell.

  Jarrod got in the Jeep and headed home. Elizabeth Wakefield's masquerade ball was tonight, Halloween. While the children of Newport traipsed from house to house, calling "Trick or treat," the adults dressed and played similar games. The entire town would be at Elizabeth's.

  It didn't take Jarrod long to shower and dress. Cath­erine waited for him in the living room.

  "Ready?" Jarrod asked, coming into the room.

  Catherine was looking through the windows into the dark. She couldn't see anything. Jarrod wondered what she was thinking.

  "You look wonderful." She smiled. He remem­bered her telling him that he was beautiful when they were standing on the grass in the rain, naked and about to make love.

  "You're going to be the most beautiful woman there," he said. "In fact, I think we should stay home."

  Catherine walked up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "If Elizabeth wasn't my best friend, you'd have a date," she teased.

  For a moment, he thought of the old Catherine, the one he'd been with two weeks ago. He looked into her eyes and thought he saw something there, something that scared him. He thought about what Robert had said. He wanted to ask her the question, but the thread between them was too fragile. A sud­den move could break it.

  "Catherine, I know something is bothering you. Please tell me what it is."

  She stared at him closely. There was concern in her eyes. "There is something," she admitted. "We'll talk about it tonight when we get back. It's time to go now."

  She started to move past him. Jarrod tightened his grip. Catherine looked up at him. "You're going to have to fix your lipstick," he told her.

  "Wha—"

  She never finished the sentence. He cut her words off with his mouth. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her into his body. Catherine's arms hugged him and she returned his kiss with the power and need he gave her.

  The old Catherine was back.

  Chapter 13

  Traditions, once begun, are hard to forget or forgo. No one remembers the first October Masquerade Bash given at the Westfields', but Elizabeth was obliged to repeat it annually on Halloween with a flair that outdid the previous ball and anything Audrey could put together. Rivalry also abounded in the small community that might account for the tradition. No matter its origin, it was an event not to be missed. Some people spent the entire year determining what to wear and who they planned to come as. The costumes were lavish, and the decora­tions tastefully covered the entire house with spectac­ular arrangements of black and orange.

  Catherine was dressed as Nefertiti in her Queen of the Nile regalia. She wore a huge black wig with the traditional flat crown and eyeliner extending back to her hairline. Her dress was a slippery gold that poured like water when she moved. Jarrod chose to wear only a mask and the colorful robes of King Akhenaton, Nefertiti's husband. The mask was trimmed in satin and he discarded it before they got out of the car. He looked like a king, powerful, tall and commanding.

  Catherine slipped her arm through Jarrod's as they ascended the three wide steps leading to the col­umned entrance of Elizabeth Westfield's family home. The sand-colored stone was bathed in a light that could be seen as far back as the entry gate.

  "Are you going to wear this outfit in bed tonight?" she teased.

  With lightning speed, he tightened his grip and slipped his other hand under her arm, tickling her. Catherine broke into gales of laughter, trying to get away, shouting for him to stop. He did. She kept laughing anyway.

  "Say that again and you'll get more than you bar­gained for."

  “Promises, promises," she said, dancing a step away as he reached for her.

  "This is our third party this week. Doesn't anyone do anything else around here?"

  "Why, my lord," she drawled, doing an Elizabeth Taylor imitation that he'd taught her. "They're all doing this to honor your homecoming. You should be appreciative, sire."

  "Funny," Jarrod said.

  "We haven't had three parties this week. Those were dinners."

  They went through the door. Elizabeth greeted them immediately. Traditionally, the host and hostess didn't dress in costume, but wore contemporary for­mal clothing. It made it easy to find them for greeting and saying good night at the end of the evening. Elizabeth followed tradition. Her dress was a regal purple strapless chiffon. She complemented it with a gold chain that had a diamond heart dangling off center and matching heart earrings. Her hair was up except for one tendril that curled down the side of her face to her neck.

  "I see you two are fashionably late." She hugged Catherine and then Jarrod. "Everyone else is already here."

  She hustled them into the room. The place was thick with noise and people. There was no theme other than masquerade. Obviously, Audrey wasn't in charge, Catherine thought. Most people had opted for fictional characters this year. Several Laurels and Hardys skirted the room, at least three Denzel Washingtons dressed in the union uniform from the movie Glory. She recognized Carmen from Bizet's opera, a Dorothy Dandridge look-a-like and three Oprah look-a-likes, Star Trek's Georgi, complete with visor, and several versions of Tiger Woods.

  As they passed through the room, greeting and smiling at friends along the way, they eventually made it to the dance floor. Jarrod slipped his arms around Catherine's watery-gold dress and pulled her into his arms. They gently swayed to the music of a band hired for the night, but Catherine didn't really need any music. When she was with Jarrod, they made their own. She'd heard that before, read it in novels, but until she acknowledged to herself that she loved him, she never really knew it could be true.

  Catherine hadn't told Jarrod her revelation and he hadn't pressured her with any declaration since that day a month earlier. He just seemed to cherish her. He was always attentive, tender and loving. She couldn't remember the number of impromptu lunches they'd shared, or the weekends they had just picked up and gone somewhere. There was always a rose waiting for her at dinner, and often in the morn­ing, she would find a cute little note somewhere. Tonight he'd even tried his hand at haiku.

  Friendship, not enough

  Emotions like lava flow

  Lovers in the night

  She found the Japanese-style poem folded between Nefertiti's robes. When she confronted him with it, he only said it was something he'd made up. But to her, it was the most wonderful seventeen syllables she'd ever read.

  She wouldn't have believed it of him. Jarrod was such a man's man, virile, athletic, vigorous, even macho. Who would have thought he'd leave love notes for his wife? They weren't really love notes. They never said "I love you." In fact, they were never even signed.

  No matter what Jarrod intended them to be, Cather­ine thought of them as love notes. She had a collec­tion that she kept in her dresser drawer. Often she'd take them out and read them. They made her feel close to him when he wasn't there.

  Robert danced by with Elizabeth just as the music ended.

  “Looks like they made up," Jarrod spoke in Cather­ine's ear.

  She nodded. "They aren't nearly the enemies they claim to be."


  Jarrod looked over her head at his friend. He had to be blind if he didn't see their bickering was a coverup for how they really felt about each other.

  "Hello, Jarrod." Julianna Stone and Ted Ward stopped in front of them. Ted was a local high school history teacher who also coached the basketball team.

  Julianna had had her eye on Jarrod since they were in grade school. He even went out with her once. Julianna didn't know Catherine knew the details of that failed date. If she did, she might not stare at him as if she could eat him. Dressed as Bizet's Carmen, her cleavage threatened to spill over her top, and her short skirt had a slit higher than anything Dorothy Dandridge ever wore. "Catherine," she said as an after thought.

  "Julianna, you look. . ." Catherine trailed off. Juli­anna wasn't listening to her. She'd trained her atten­tion on Jarrod, even to the exclusion of her date.

  "Dance with me, Jarrod." The music began again, and Julianna stepped between Catherine and Jarrod. She put her arm through his and left Catherine and Ted standing alone.

  "Would you like to dance?" Ted asked.

  Catherine went into his arms. Ted's costume wasn't very original. He was dressed as Superman. She had to admit he had a great body: strong, muscular legs and broad shoulders. He worked with the team every day, and she knew he was very active outside of the school.

  "I apologize for Julianna."

  "You don't have to. I know how she feels about Jarrod."

  "He doesn't return her feelings," Ted was quick to add.

  "I know," Catherine said. She knew where Jarrod's sentiments lay. And she knew about Ted too, his feel­ings for Julianna. She wasn't one to give advice to the lovelorn, but it was time someone said something to Ted about how he allowed Julianna to walk over him. "When are you going to tell her, Ted?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Ted, I've seen you when you coach. You're de­manding, confident, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound." She raised her arm in a gesture.

  "Well, only as high as the basketball net." He twirled her around, his red cape and her gold gown following them like the colors of a flag.

  "The net's high enough. What happens to that confidence when Julianna walks in the room?" He looked embarrassed. It wasn't her intention to force him to share his feelings. "You've been trying to win Julianna for so long, you don't even see what's in front of you."

  Ted almost stopped. Quickly he remembered and continued dancing. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean look around. You might find someone who's just as interested in you as you are in Julianna."

  The music ended. Catherine left him looking around the room at every female who was unmarried or unattached. She walked to the bar and ordered an orange juice. Elizabeth approached her.

  "What did you do to the coach?"

  "I did nothing to him, and his name is Ted. Don't call him 'the coach.' That makes him sound like an old man, and Ted is two years younger than we are."

  "What did you say to him?" The music started, and Ted asked Meredith Windsor to dance. She smiled like a thirteen-year-old as he led her to floor.

  "I told him there might be someone with a crush on him."

  "Who?"

  Catherine hunched her shoulders and drank from her glass. "I have no idea, but he'll spend the winter trying to find out."

  "And that will make Ms. Julianna Stone sit up and take notice."

  “Or Ted just might discover there really is someone out there who turns him on more than Julianna."

  "Oooo, you are bad, Catherine." Elizabeth was shaking her head. "I am glad you're not matchmak­ing for me."

  "Matchmaking is my sister's job. By the way, where is Audrey?"

  "She called to say she'd be late. Something about her costume not being ready."

  Catherine mocked a shudder. "Heads will roll." Both women laughed. Catherine caught Jarrod's glance. He was back on the floor. This time Emily Colter was his partner.

  "Elizabeth."

  They both turned as someone called her name. Elizabeth went off to play hostess to another queen, while Catherine circled the room, smiling and talking. She was truly enjoying herself. She hadn't thought she could relax enough with all the fast-paced things that were going on in her life.

  "Catherine, that's a wonderful outfit." She smiled at Lois Brown and thanked her. Lois worked at the hospital and was dressed as a nurse. It wasn't much of a leap.

  "Catherine." She heard her name called again. Audrey had arrived and was waving to her from the end of the room.

  "That's my hat," Catherine said the moment she got close to Audrey.

  "No, it's not."

  "It is."

  "Well, it's part of the costume." Her sister was dressed as Dolly Levi. With the wig and the hat, she stood several inches taller than her real height. Cath­erine glanced at Dwayne, who was standing at the bar. She could see he'd refused to complement his wife by coming as the pestered Horace Vandergelder. Dwayne wore a fake mustache and eyebrows. His coat was a black cutaway from the early 1900s. He reminded her of a dark version of Mark Twain, with­out the long white hair, but he was more probably W.E.B. Du Bois. Catherine knew Dwayne enjoyed Du Bois's writing immensely.

  "Don't you think it looks nice?" Audrey turned in a circle, as if she was modeling, completely ignoring Catherine's anger over her pilfered hat.

  "You should have asked me if you could wear it."

  "Catherine, it's only a hat, and you left it on the swing."

  She'd forgotten the hat. Her life had changed so much since that day on the swing. But Audrey had taken her things since they were children and assumed she could do with them what she wished. Catherine still hated it.

  "And you built your entire costume around it."

  "Forget the hat. I've got something much more important to talk to you about."

  Catherine waited. Audrey's smile was wide and happy. She anticipated Audrey's news. She had to be pregnant. Catherine was prepared to holler and hug her.

  "I'm opening my own business," she said.

  "What?" Catherine was confused. She hadn't expected her to say that.

  "Come on over here. I can't wait to tell you." She took her arm and dragged her to an empty seat at the edge of the room. It overlooked the back gardens and the sea in the distance. "Dwayne has been sug­gesting it for years," she said as they sat down. "But I'm doing this all on my own."

  "Start at the beginning," Catherine said. Her sister was animated over this, much more jovial than usual. Exactly like dolly Levi when she set her mind to something.

  "All right," she said, taking a deep breath. "You know how I love giving parties."

  Catherine nodded.

  "I'm opening a business as a wedding consultant. I'll plan everything for the bride: her ceremony, reception, party favors, cake, everything." She looked at Catherine. "It's such a stressful time for the couple. I can deal with all the details while they keep their heads, remain ecstatically in love and avoid the small details that can cause disasters during the actual event."

  "Audrey, I'm so glad for you. This is wonderful, and you seem so excited about it." She would be good at this. Audrey took every detail seriously, and she was a good person to plan an event.

  "Mother is going to help me. You know how good she is at selling. She can be the receptionist and talk to all the brides, while I come up with ideas for their affairs. We'll share the details for each event and cross-check each other. We're also going to do parties, proms, any kind of social event. You know there are hundreds of them around here, and I know every caterer, photographer, printer, tradesman in the area."

  Catherine was astounded. "You've really thought about this."

  "More than that. We ordered the stationery, and Dwayne pointed me toward a small office on Spring Street that is just perfect. We signed the lease this morning. I've talked to the phone company about installing phone lines, and we'll accept credit cards, and. . ."

  "And I thought you were having trouble with the costume, while you
were becoming Cornelia Vanderbilt." Catherine felt a tinge of guilt accompany her happiness for her sister. Audrey would love doing this and she was perfectly suited for it. Despite Catherine's dread at some of the affairs she'd been forced to attend because Audrey planned them, she was very good at what she did. She and their mother worked well together. She was living proof of that.

  "You know me," Audrey said. "Once I get an idea, I'm off and running. And the costume needed a little bit of alteration. It's fine now." She paused. "We're going to have an open house around the first of the year, after all the holidays are over. Imagine the summer, with the tourists coming and all the events that they want to attend. We could—"

  "Look at you two," Robert said, joining them. "I'd never guess you were sisters."

  “Hello, Robert," Audrey said. Her face glowed with her news. Catherine was glad for her though a little surprised that she would take on a business. Audrey seemed to spend her full energy on her own parties and her house. This would take her into other areas, and Catherine knew her sister would master them.

  "Audrey, I am so happy for you." She reached over and hugged her.

  "Happy for what?" Robert asked.

  "Audrey is starting her own business. She's going to be a wedding consultant."

  "And you can be my first customer," she told him.

  Catherine stared at her, then at Robert. "Is there something going on I should know about?" she asked.

  They both waited for the other to explain. "Just an observation," Audrey finally said. "You have deal­erships all over the area. Maybe I can plan an open­ing."

  Robert let out a slow breath. Catherine didn't think her sister had been talking about a car party.

  “You haven't danced with me," Robert said to Cath­erine. He offered her his hand.

  "I would love to," Catherine said, rising.

  "Excuse us, Audrey."

  Audrey nodded.

  "Save me a dance," Robert told her, and she smiled.

  Robert took Catherine's hand and twirled her onto the dance floor. He was a really good dancer. They had once won a summer talent contest with a dance routine. Catherine loved dancing with Robert only slightly less than she liked dancing with Jarrod. In Robert's arms, she could have fun. In Jarrod's she had fun and more.