“Ah. I ‘ave just the thing.” Miss Wiggins rummaged through a tin under the mahogany counter and emerged with two spools of satin ribbon, one gold, the other royal purple.
“These will look so lovely with your ‘air. I’ll show you ‘ow to tie the bow just right so it will ‘old the blossoms properly. And look what we ‘ave ‘ere.” The shop owner bent over and rummaged through another box. She groaned as she stood up. “I ‘ate getting old. Everything fights back when I move.” She took in a deep breath and began dusting the object in her hands. She handed it to Mary.
“How beautiful!”
“It’s old, but the silver’s still good. Put your weddin’ picture in it so’s it don’t get messed up.” Mary started to protest. “Oh, now, I won’t charge you extra, and what am I going to do with it, eh?”
“You’re so kind, Miss Wiggins. Thank you.”
“Oh, my dear, it’s nothing at all. Now, you ‘ave to smell right nice, too, eh?” And with that, she liberated tray after tray of bottles and boxes of delicately wrapped cakes of soap from their shelves.
As they pored over the selections, Miss Wiggins’ sharp brown eyes looked slightly dazed as though she were far away, and she said, “I lost me love in WWI, and I’ve always regretted that we didn’t ‘ave any pictures. Never got a chance to get married, a bit like the poor girl who ordered the dress. Ah, well, something good’s come of it, eh?”
“I’m so sorry,” Mary said. “Surely you must have had other suitors since then.”
“Oh my, no. I wouldn’t ‘ave noticed if there were. There was only one man for me, and when Neville, rest his soul, went to his Maker, well, so did that part of me. Now let’s get back to you. Just one more thing.” She reached up on the shelves behind her and came back with a hatbox, which she opened. Inside lay a small wooden box, lined with black velvet.
Miss Wiggins’ voice rattled ever so slightly, “You’re a special one, you are. I knew someday, the right young lady would come in for this box. And now ‘ere you are. Every bride must ‘ave a special place for ‘er most prized possession, most important memory. Someday, you’ll make use of it, and you must pass it on to your daughter or granddaughter when the time is right.”
Mary’s eyes softened and misted at the older woman’s words. She watched as Miss Wiggins packaged everything up in an old, but sturdy, carton and fashioned a string handle.
“I don’t know what to say. You’ve made this all so special for me, like my mother would have. I am so very grateful.”
“Not at all, luv. You just ‘ave yourself a fine weddin’,” she said.
“Oh I will, I promise. Won’t you come, Miss Wiggins? I’d be so pleased to have you come.”
“So kind of you, luv, but I’ve got my nieces coming ‘round to visit. Just remember every moment, now. They won’t come again.”
“Thank you, for everything,” Mary said. “How much do I owe you, now?”
“My pleasure, luv. Well, now, it looks like four pounds, five ‘n six.”
Mary opened her purse and gave her a five pound note and refused the change. Miss Wiggins protested but Mary said, “Please, it’s worth all that and more to me.”
The bell tinkled again as Mary opened the door to leave. She turned and smiled at Miss Wiggins, waving goodbye with her free hand, and climbed back up the cobblestone steps.
Mary opened her eyes and found herself staring at her wedding picture in the silver frame. “Oh, God, Frank!” she whispered. “I must let you go, or I’ll just keep dying a little at a time over and over again.” Mary’s hands were damp, and they shook as she struggled to place her wedding dress back in the box. She stopped to wipe her face with a tissue and walked directly down the bedroom hallway. The cord that pulled down the attic stairs hung straight down with the weight of a wooden knob tied on the end. She jumped up to reach it and tugged until it unfolded in pained squeaks. Mary climbed each steep step gingerly, with one hand on the rickety rail and one on the box, until she reached the top. Leaning down so as not to bump her head on the low rafters, Mary searched until she found her old Navy trunk. The lid was stiff and rusty, but it finally came free. There was just enough room for the box. She lifted her old wool coat, kissed the top of the box and buried it beneath it the layers of musty heavy material.
“Goodbye, my love. It’s time. I hope you can understand,” Mary said as she closed the lid. She sat for a while on top of the dusty trunk and cried in hushed muffled sobs. When she descended the attic steps, climbing carefully backwards, she sensed ever so small a difference. And then she thought of Joshua with the silken bourbon voice that warmed her. His eyes were so alive with love for her. She knew she might, just might be willing to begin again.
CHAPTER 20
Zach arrived at seven-thirty, honking the horn on his customized purple and gold Corvette. Joshua was there as usual. He walked to the door, opening it as Abby emerged behind him from the kitchen.
“Joshua, is that him, finally?” she asked. She was wearing her mother’s pale green sweater with the pearl buttons.
“Don’t know. But whoever it is better stop that god-awful noise, or he’ll end up with a horn in his throat.”
Joshua walked out to the porch, down the steps, and to the walk. Zach saw him coming and stopped honking. The elder man leaned over the car and spoke through the open window.
“Young man, if you want to see Abby, you’d better come in now and meet her family. We don’t take kindly to antics like that around here.”
Zach clicked into gentleman mode and stepped out of his car. Joshua didn’t even blink at the quarterback’s size.
“Sorry, sir. I guess I got carried away. Pleased to meet you. I’m Zach Trudeau.” Zach offered his hand.
“Joshua Larkin.” He took the boy’s hand and gave it a cursory yank. “Come this way, boy,” he said and scowled.
“After you, sir,” Zach said.
“I’m Joshua Larkin, attorney at law,” he said, emphasizing each word. “I’m a friend of the family. Her daddy died in World War II, as she may have told you. I’ve known Abby since she was knee high, and her well-being is my concern, young fella. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Larkin. I’ll remember,” Zach said with a toothy smile.
Zach poured on the charm. He smiled broadly at Mary and Meaghan and greeted Papa Cory with respect. Abby’s grandfather had missed the fuss and was more accommodating, more of what Zach was used to.
“Well, me boy, you had a right fine game today, I see. Hard work, that. Keep it up, boy.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“So you and our Abby are goin’ out to kick up your heels, eh? That’s fine, just fine.” Papa Cory slapped Zach on the back, unable to reach all the way to his shoulders.
“You are a big one, you are.” And he slapped him again. Mary was cooler, but polite. She looked him over.
“Abby’s to be home by midnight, young man,” she said. “I’ll expect you to respect that.”
“Why, yes, ma’am. Midnight it is.” Zach said.
Abby set the record straight as soon as she got in his car. “Look, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, and I don’t sleep around. So if you want to call it off, that’s fine by me.”
“Whoa, girl! What’s this all about?” Zach said as he turned on the engine and listened to it rumble. .
“I figure you’re used to rich, fast girls, and I’m not rich or fast, so I just thought you’d better know, that’s all.”
“Okay, so I know, so what? What do you take me for?”
“Casanova, that’s who. You could go out with anybody. You know it, and I know it, so why me?” Abby said.
“Casanova, huh? Well, sure, I like girls, and you’re a girl and I like you, so what’s wrong with that?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you pick me?” Abby was prepared to open the car door, say so long and be done with it.
“Okay, you want an answer. O
kay. How’s this? I like your spunk. I like your looks. I like that you’re different somehow,” Zach said.
“Different? How?”
“Gees, do you have to know everything?” She stared at him with those eyes. “Okay. Different than the ones who smoke, drink and sleep around. Different because you don’t seem to care who I am. Is that enough of the third degree, or are we gonna play twenty questions all night?”
“That’s enough for now. Okay, we can go. Where are we going anyhow?” she asked him.
“Well, Cinderella, if you’re done grillin’ me, I thought we’d go to a movie and over to the Arcadian later. I mean, unless that’s not your style either.”
“No, that’s fine,” Abby said.
She laughed all the way through the movie. She gobbled up popcorn and threw some at him. People stared at her, not him, when the odd couple walked out of the theater. She mimicked her grandfather, slapped Zach on the back and said, “You are a big one, you are!” Zach didn’t know what to make of her.
He didn’t try to hold hands or put his arm around her in the movie. He didn’t try to kiss her goodnight when he brought her home, and he didn’t say anything about calling again. But Abby’s quick wit, luscious looks and haunting blue eyes would not leave his mind.
Two days later, he called.
“So Cinderella, do you wanna go out again?”
“I don’t know.”
”“You don’t know? What do ya mean, you don’t know?”
“Where?”
“The party at DKE Friday night.”
“Thought you had football practice.”
“I can break training, I’m a senior, like who’s gonna stop me? I’ll pick you up at eight.” He hung up the pay phone in the hall and shook his head. Tommy walked by.
“Hey, Tommer, how ya doin’, man?” Zach said, and socked his roommate on the arm.
“Hey, Zee, what’s up?”
“I gotta tell ya. Took that Abby girl out a couple days ago, and I’m taking her to the DKE bash. Don’t mind, do ya, bro?”
Tommy raised his hands like he was in a hold up. “Shit. I mean shit, no, Zee. I mean, she’s nothin’ to me. Hey, knock yourself out!” Tommy said. He started down the hall, and Zach followed him for a few steps.
“She’s one tight-ass little bitch, but I like her. She don’t seem to give a shit whether I see her or not. Can’t figure her, but I bet she’s a virgin. I get kinda itchy around virgins, ya know, Tommer. Like I gotta help ‘em see the light and get things straight. Ha! Straight, ya get it?” Zach was talking to himself.
Tommy was already down the hall.
“Yeah, sure, Zee, have fun man,” Tommy waved back at him and kept on going.
It happened slowly. At first Abby did not care if Zach called, and Emmy thought her cousin was crazy. “You mean, you don’t care if the biggest hunk on campus drops out of your life?” Emmy snapped her fingers, “Just like that?”
Abby waved her off. “Nope.”
Then came the wondering. “So, Em, do you think he’ll call? I mean, I’m not really his type.”
“All girls are his type,” Emmy said, her eyes flashing.
After a time, Abby waited in her room, waiting and waiting. Emmy was put out. For some reason Abby couldn’t fathom, Emmy had taken a sudden dislike to Zach.
“How can some fast-talkin’ guy take up so much of your time?” Emmy asked. “You’ve put your whole life on hold waiting for the gosh-darn phone to ring. God! Abby.”
She didn’t know when it happened, but then, Zach grew on a person. By Halloween, there was no turning back.
It wasn’t just his penetrating eyes or the square jaw with the slight indentation in his chin. It could have been his lips, turned up at the edges in a perpetual smile, or the bump on his nose from where it had been broken three or four times. Or maybe it was how his long, long legs slid into jeans that someone had creased and pressed, jeans that hugged his body all the way to his polished cowboy boots. No, it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was that his high forehead made him seem older, and his streaked blond hair was so much lighter on the top from the sun. It could have been the way he stared so you wondered if your hair was on backwards, or the way he laughed, like his life depended on it, or that he made you feel like you were the only one in a room of a hundred other girls. Maybe it was the way he called you “Cinderella” and “Sugar” and his “little girl.”
It was just something in the way he carried himself, so sure and easy. He filled a room when he walked in, his brand of charm bigger than life. Nothing bothered him and everything did—a walking, humming, whistling, brooding, contradiction.
It was none of that, and it was all of that.
It did not matter why; the spider caught the fly.
CHAPTER 21
The Arcadian was a dark, magical place. The music was country loud as it pounded through the thick plumes of yellow smoke that hovered above everyone’s heads. Little square tables decorated with bubble glass candles peppered the room, and the dance floor was oozing with sweaty bodies. Zach offered Abby a cigarette. He always did. This time she took it and let him light it. He bent the match over the cover and created fire with one hand.
Abby sipped cokes while Zach drank beer. All night people came over to their table to talk to him. When she got up to go to the bathroom, he didn’t even notice she was gone. On the way back, someone asked her to dance. She shot a glance at Zach, who was deep in conversation with some guy, and made her decision.
She moved with the music, loving the way the drums resonated through her body. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her waist and saw her dance partner go pale and back away.
Zach grabbed her arm and twisted her around to face him.
“If I’m not mistaken, you’re with me.” His face wore no expression.
“And if I’m not mistaken, you haven’t been interested in dancing with me or even talking to me all night,” Abby shot back.
Her quick retort stunned him. “Well, I guess I better pay closer attention then, hadn’t I, Sugar?”
“Guess so,” she said as her eyes burned into him.
They walked back to their table. He wrapped his finger through her belt as if she were on a leash, and pushed her forward.
“I don’t want you to dance with other guys, not even fast, not when you’re with me, understand?”
“You don’t own me, Zach,” she snapped.
“I don’t, huh? So you don’t care who I dance with, is that what you’re sayin’?”
“Well, no, I mean, that’s not what I’m saying. It was nothing, and you know it. I don’t even know who he was anyway.”
“So, you can dance with any ass boil that walks in here, is that it? But you’d have yourself a hissy-fit if I swung another girl around the floor.”
“What do you want me to say, huh? That I can’t stand the idea of you with anybody else, that I don’t want anybody else, that I just wanted you to notice I was here? Okay! I said it. Are you happy now?” Abby’s fists were clenched tight.
“Yeah, little girl, that’s exactly what I wanted you to say.” Zach smiled and motioned to the waitress. He ordered more drinks.
“So, now what? Is this our first fight?” Abby asked.
“Now we get some drinks, and you and me are gonna dance,” he said. The drinks came.
“This tastes funny. What’s in it?” Abby asked.
“Happy juice. It makes it taste better. Won’t hurt you none. Go on, drink up.”
Abby liked it and had another. And another. Zach took her to the dance floor giggling. He used the crowded room to edge her closer, rubbing the front of his jeans against her belly. She could feel the heat from his body and hear his heart next to her ear. He cupped her buttocks and helped her stand on her toes to reach him. Wrapped around each other like vines on a willow, they found niches where they fit and rolled gently with the tide.
Zach sent a message to the band. By the third slow, close dance, Abby didn’t care who or where she wa
s anymore. She just knew she didn’t want it to stop.
The beat was steady. With each beat of the drum and vibration of the bass, Abby and Zach became more like one body. Abby buried her head in his broad chest.
And the night wore on.
After the last dance, he escorted her to their table where she cooled off with one more rum and coke. Abby threw her head back and laughed at all his jokes. Her whole body felt so loose that she barely noticed when he moved his chair closer to hers, or when he slipped his hand up the back of her sweater. She felt a shiver go through her body. It felt odd to be hot and shiver at the same time.
No one bothered them now. It was clear that Zach was busy. He leaned over and breathed on her neck. Again she shivered.
“Zach, what are you doing? God, I feel so dizzy.”
“Let’s get you outside then. We’ll go for a ride,” Zach whispered in her ear.
He walked with her to his “Tiger” car, holding her up and helping her get in. Zach started the engine. It boomed and boiled as though it ran on rocket fuel. She fell into his lap, and he ran his long wide fingers through her hair and then over her sweater, lifting it from her skin and finding her firm breasts hidden beneath the soft green yarn. Abby barely felt the pleasant sensations; her brain had disengaged.
The car stopped just beyond Sugar Point. There were no lights, no people and no other cars. Abby was still semi-conscious when he opened her door. He picked her up and laid her down on the thick blanket next to the car. The night air felt fresh, autumn crisp.
“See the stars, Cinderella?”
“Mmmm,” she mumbled.
She looked delicious. Zach lifted her sweater off her body and over her head with little resistance. For a moment he just looked at her, pleased with his choice.
He covered her mouth with his. When she responded, Zach moved to her breasts.
He wanted Abby to ache for him. He licked her skin, kissing every inch as he moved down her body. He smiled when she cried out through the rum haze.
He worked his magic, a finely honed skill, and Abby’s body stiffened, building to crescendo. Zach consumed her. She moaned, breathing heavily, her body rhythmically responding to his touch. Suddenly, she let go, releasing all the tension, and dissolved beneath him, crying out to the heavens.
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