4

 

There was such a comfort in coming home, being in her house once again, feeling it all around her and herself safely inside it.  The two weeks she'd spent at Laurel's were the longest she'd been away from the house since they'd moved in.  Now there was such a sense of joy in her at being back, even though the house was much too silent and she was lonely.  She yearned for R.J. and wished each day that her life was back the way it used to be, that her husband would be coming home to her as he used to do.  He had done something awful, had hurt her terribly, but she loved him still and missed the only life she'd ever known.  She could forgive him, forget the hurt, move forward with him, if only he'd come back.  Was it so terrible that she felt this way, that she wanted to preserve the status quo?  Didn't most people want that?

Sally's party was coming up and Annabeth threw herself into the work of planning for it.  R.J. loved parties, and he would be there.  She'd lost a little weight while in New Orleans and she had two new outfits--a pink party dress and some gray silk palazzo pants with a matching knitted top.  This would be her opportunity with R.J.

When Maggie, Sally and Annabeth sat down to discuss the menu, she began offering suggestions in as confident a manner as she could, thinking all the while of Laurel and how she would handle the situation.

"Jambalaya?" asked Maggie, flashing a look that said Annabeth must have lost her mind.

"And what is that again?"  asked Sally.

"It's this Creole rice, you know, New Orleans rice.  It has tomatoes and lots of spices plus shrimp and chicken and sausages.  It's elegant yet simple, and it's easy to make in big batches," answered Annabeth.

"Oh yes, I love that," remembered Sally.

"I planned to do the sort of party food we always make," said Maggie, "Ham and a turkey.  There are lots of people coming."

"That sounds good.  I just thought some Jambalaya would go with it.  I brought back all the spices with me," said Annabeth in what she hoped was a firm manner, without being too pushy.  "It's just really important to me that we make this party special, that the food is interesting and that it all looks good."

"I know what you're doing," said Sally, "You're trying to impress Daddy and win him back by making this extra special stuff.  I get it…."

"When did R.J. ever notice anything but the beer," asked Maggie.

"I have to try, don't I," said Annabeth, "So just please go along with me on this."

"Okay, sure," conceded Maggie.

"Look at this recipe for chocolate mousse cake--fantastic--huh?" continued Annabeth, hoping the enthusiasm in her voice would be catching.

"I was going to make my chocolate sheet cake," said Maggie, scowling slightly.

"You can never have too much cake," interjected Sally.

"I thought you'd make a platter of cookies," continued Maggie, looking at Annabeth.  She had never sounded so indefinite before.  Annabeth should have stood up to her more often.  No wonder R.J. found her so dull; she never pushed for her own ideas and she was more creative than Maggie.

"Well I could do that, but wouldn't it be fun to try some new things?"

"Are we going to have my stuffed mushrooms for appetizers?" asked Maggie.

"Oh!" enthused Annabeth, "We could stuff them with crawfish étouffée, or spinach soufflé.  Or we don't have to do that.  We could use the stuffing you usually make."

It had gone well.  Annabeth had done most of the planning and they had come up with a very good menu that promised to be much more interesting than the usual party fare they prepared.  Annabeth began shopping and cooking right away, tucking into the freezer whatever could be prepared in advance.  Her trip to New Orleans had been expensive and now with all the shopping for the party, the money in the checking account seemed quite low; R.J. hadn't made a deposit in a long while.  She could make a withdrawal from the savings account, but they'd both agreed not to touch that money.  It wasn't a very romantic reason to call her husband, but at least it was something important.

She reached him on his cellular phone.  "What's up," he said on hearing her voice.

"How are you hon?  It's been a while."

"Great.  What's up?"

"I hate to bother you with this, but I need some money.  I'm doing the party for Sally you know and the checking account is very low."

"What, already?"

"I went to New Orleans to help Laurel with her apartment.  That was expensive and party food is too."

"Yeah I saw charges on the credit card bill.  She's gotta job, you know.  Why are you buyin' her stuff?"

"I tried not to spend too much."

"Okay, look I can put some money in for you, just not a lot."  He stammered a bit then continued, "I have more expenses now--um--a friend--needs some very expensive dental work."

Once again, Annabeth thought of Laurel, her remarks about her father, and of her strength.  She took a deep breath, then said, "Remember when you refused to pay for Laurel's braces?  She had a paper route and babysat and I did all that mending work to raise the money.  Don't you think…."

He cut her off, saying, "That's the spirit.  Raise that money yourself."

Her jaw dropped, but Annabeth forced herself to reply, "Stop it R.J.  It's for Sally's party and I need the money."

"Okay, I'll make a deposit.  Now I gotta go."

He clicked off on her before she could say anything pleasant.  What a depressing conversation.  He could be awfully insensitive at times.  It was such a shame to miss someone so much and then to have an awful conversation like that, to feel annoyed, angry even, and not to feel any better after it.  All she could really do now was concentrate on the party preparations.  When the party actually happened and she and R.J. were face to face, hopefully things would improve.

She worked for hours in the kitchen, and then in the evenings Annabeth would undress and scrutinize herself in the mirror.  Was she any thinner?  Did she look any better at all?  At night she lay alone in bed, thinking of her marriage and what she yearned for.

The day of the party, almost before sunrise, Annabeth was up and hard at work in the kitchen. She assembled the mousse cakes and an assortment of other foods.  Her feet aching from hours of standing, Annabeth peeled and deveined five pounds of shrimp, sautéed chunks of chicken and spicy sausage, peeled and chopped two dozen tomatoes, assorted peppers and onions and then set about preparing the Jambalaya, which was hot and fragrant, kept warm in her oven while she dressed for the party.

Annabeth examined her reflection carefully.   She looked quite lovely in her pink dress.  This had to work.  The party would be wonderful and R.J. would see that he belonged at home with her, not with some young girl.  For all she knew the girl was already history.  Mid-life crises didn't last forever and the men always came home.  Then they could have a new beginning.  Annabeth glanced at the clock.  It was just a bit past four.  She was expected to arrive at Maggie's by five to help with all the hostessing chores.  There was plenty of time. All she needed to do was pack the car and take off.  Carefully she filled two Styrofoam coolers with ice, then Annabeth lowered the cakes gently into them and placed them in the back seat of her car.  The breads and hot Jambalaya fit neatly on the floor of her trunk.

The car started on the first try.  She put the car in gear and pulled smoothly out of the driveway onto the road beyond.  Maybe the old clunker was learning to behave.  Where was that annoying clanking noise?  The car was running much better; it must be a positive omen.  The August heat was unbearable, and it had been years since the air conditioning in her car worked properly.  The cakes were on ice, though and should be fine for the short drive to Maggie's.  Annabeth glanced in the rearview mirror; she really did look good.  Her plan was working perfectly.

She drove another few blocks until she was maybe two miles from the center of town, then the car stopped.  The engine died, and Annabeth used the ongoing momentum to steer it toward the curb, cursing softly under her breath.  She twisted the key in the ignition, but the motor refused to turn over.  She tried again.  Nothing.

There were no houses for at least a mile.  She got out of the car and walked toward the front, releasing the hood and peering in at the engine, somehow hoping that something she'd seen R.J. do over the years would come back to her, inspiring her about how to get the car moving again.  All she remembered clearly was to check inside the radiator.  She removed an old rag from the trunk and twisted off the cap, making sure to stand well back.  There was a hissing sound she had never heard before, and then an eruption of fluid, a spattering of color as Annabeth screamed and jumped back, although not quickly enough.  A stain of iridescent greenish yellow streaked across the front of her dress, soaking into her skin and burning her.  "Ouch," she screamed, pulling the dress away from her body.  She looked down, noting that she wasn't really hurt, although the dress was ruined.  She put the radiator cap back on and tried again to start the car.  Nothing.

Annabeth got out of the car, slammed the door, then weighed her options.  How long would it take to reach a house at which she could use a telephone to call Maggie?  She shook her head.  It was far.  It made more sense to go back to Billy's Garage and maybe the mechanic would still be there.  It was four long blocks, which Annabeth walked as quickly as she possibly could, thinking of the food in her car and glancing often at her watch.  No luck; the station was deserted, so she inserted two dimes in the pay phone and dialed Maggie's number.  The phone rang and rang. She hung up, reached for her money in the change shoot, but it was not returned to her.  She inserted two more dimes and dialed again.  This time she heard a click and knew the phone was being answered.  "Thank goodness" she said aloud, but there was no familiar voice at the end of the line.  Instead she heard a recording imploring her to dial a one and the area code; the phone was out of order. 

Annabeth walked on, expecting to reach the Ford dealer whose showroom was just outside town. She could see the tall blue sign in the distance and was certain they would be open, and someone there would have a jumper cable or whatever quick fix the car needed this time.  It was a bit farther than six blocks, and Annabeth walked quickly, her new shoes rubbing blisters on her ankles and little toes.  Entering the dealership, she heard two male voices and walked in that direction.

"You think you're just so smart, don't you?" 

"Look, we're on the same side here. We're both trying to save this business."

"The business was just fine until you swooped down like some damn crusader rabbit.  Dad and I were doing just fine."

"Dad asked me to come back.  You know that."

"Yeah, Mr. Big Shot Financier.  Reorganize the whole business so I don't have a clue.  Set new hours.  Act like the boss around here."

"Grady, what is it you want anyway?"

"I want a life, the life I had, when we were doing just fine.  I don't want to be a slave to this place."

"If we don't make some changes the business will go under in a year.  You know that."

"I damn well don't know that.  And besides...."

Annabeth walked up to the door where all the shouting was, but she didn't want to barge in, so she waited outside a bit, hoping the voices would calm.  She looked down at her watch.  It was a few minutes after five.  Maggie would soon start to wonder where she was.  She coughed, hoping she would be heard and the men inside would stop arguing.

"Oh, go to hell!" said the first man, pushing out the door and past Annabeth without even seeing her.

Annabeth took a deep swallow and walked toward the door.  She hated angry scenes like this and didn't want to appear an eavesdropper.  "Excuse me," she said softly.

The man behind the desk looked up from his computer.  In one glance he took in Annabeth's situation and rose to greet her.  He was quite tall, and his white shirt was crisply starched.  His hair, formerly dark, but now shadowed with silver, was neat, as was the nicely trimmed beard he wore.  He smiled at Annabeth in a way that made her relax.  His eyes, black and sparkling, were confident yet kind, honest but also shrewd.  "Annabeth Copeland," he said.  "You cut your hair."

"Yes," she said, startled, touching her hair, "But it's Welner now."  He was familiar looking….Her eyes opened wide, "Doug Hawkins!  My goodness!  Look at you--you have a beard! I thought you left town years ago."  She smiled at him then.  "It's so nice to see you again."  He remembered her long hair.  How amazing.

He smiled back.  "How are those math skills?"

She laughed.  "Probably no better than when you were my tutor.  Luckily I don't need them very often."

"You were always an artist anyway, not a mathematician."

Annabeth smiled at him again, thinking him sweet to remember her silly hobby.  "And you were always good at noticing the details about people."

"Yes," he smiled, "And you look like a damsel in distress to me right now."

"My car broke down a few blocks from here.  It needs jumper cables or something.  It breaks down all the time.  And I have food melting inside."

"The mechanics are gone for the day, but let me see if I can help you."  

"Thank you so much.  The car's parked a few blocks from here toward town."

Annabeth looked down at her dress as Doug peered under the hood of her car.  He attached the jumper cables, but the engine wouldn't turn over.  She walked to the trunk and opened it.  The Jambalaya was fine, still pleasantly warm.  She lifted the lid of one of the coolers in the back seat.  The cake was sweating and looked ominously soft.  Carefully she lowered the cooler lid.

Doug sighed as he raised his head from the hood, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can get this vehicle going again.  I think the fuel pump is gone, and there are a lot of other problems as well.  I'd be glad to have our mechanics look at it on Monday, to give you an estimate.  Then you can decide if it's worth fixing or not."

"Oh my.  I should have called Maggie from your office.  They're waiting for me and this food."

"Let me take you where you need to go.  Then I'll come back and have your car towed to the garage."

"Oh thank you so much," she said, relieved.

He walked to the car, carefully lifting the coolers into his back seat.  Annabeth opened her trunk, removed the breads in their bags and Doug placed the Jambalaya on the floor of his trunk.  "Smells wonderful," he commented.

"Thank you.  I hope it isn't spoiled."

In a few moments they arrived at Maggie's and Doug helped her in with the food.  "Annabeth!" exclaimed Maggie as she spotted them, "What happened to you?"

"Damn car," said Annabeth.  "Maggie, do you remember Doug Hawkins?"

"Yes, of course, Grady's brother."  Maggie said.  "How are you?"

Doug glanced at Maggie.  "Always the brother of the football hero.  My claim to fame."  Then returning his focus to Annabeth, he continued, "All right, we'll have your car.  Come around on Monday and we'll give you that estimate."

"It was so nice to see you again."  Annabeth smiled.  "I'm sorry we didn't have more time to talk.  Why don't you stay and have some food with us?"

Doug looked around at the party preparations.  "No, I can see it's a family affair.  I don't want to intrude."

Maggie, not wanting to be topped in courtesy by Annabeth, insisted, "Please, stay.  You're welcome to stay."

"Another time," he said, backing out of the room.

Annabeth followed him, saying, "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure."  He smiled at her then, an open and friendly smile, one which caused his dark eyes to flash. 

Annabeth smiled back, and watched him walk down the driveway and pull off in his car.  Then she turned back toward Maggie.  "I need to go home and change my clothes.  But first let's get these cakes into the fridge."  They walked back toward the kitchen, and Annabeth carefully lifted the lid of the cooler.  She gently pulled the cake up and out, slowly turning toward the refrigerator which Maggie held open.  It was the slight turn that did it. The mousse, already melting, separated from the cake, causing the top layer to spin off, landing on the floor.  On seeing it swirl off, Annabeth jumped, and that movement caused the final layer to fly off the plate.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Annabeth and Maggie simultaneously.  Annabeth scraped the soggy cake and puddling mousse off the floor and into the trash can,  walked to the sink, rinsing her hands and drying them, then opened the other cooler.  The second cake was collapsed, the mousse puddled around its sides.  There was no way to remove it from the cooler in one piece, and it wasn't fit to eat anyway.

"Now what?" asked Maggie.  "I didn't make my sheet cake.  We do have some cookies."

"Oh God!" sighed Annabeth, "I'm really sorry, Maggie.  I have to go home anyway.  I'll stop at Ed and Betty's and get a cake."

"Fancy food just doesn't work in this climate," complained Maggie, her face a mask of aggravation.  "I'll give them a call while you go.  Take my car."

"Thanks, hon."  Annabeth touched Maggie's arm gently.

Annabeth pressed her hand to her head.  It was pounding.  She looked down at her party dress, now utterly ruined.  Could the cleaners remove that stain?  It was doubtful.  At least she still had her other new outfit.  She pulled into the open spot in front of Ed and Betty's Bakery and walked the few steps to the door.

Betty smiled warmly at Annabeth.  "Hi.  Your friend already called me.  I wish we had more cakes left."  Betty pointed to the nearly empty display case.  There were two small cakes, one frosted in pink, one chocolate.

"These will be great," said Annabeth, smiling courteously.

Betty went about boxing the cakes while Annabeth fished in her purse.  She retrieved her credit card and handed it to Betty, who ran it through the machine.  "That's odd," murmured Betty, who then swiped the card again.  She picked up the phone and started speaking, then turned toward Annabeth, "They say this card has been canceled.  Did you bring the wrong one?"

Annabeth blanched.  "My goodness," she exclaimed, "There must be some mistake."  She looked in her purse for her checkbook, but she had left it at home.  In her wallet were two five dollar bills, which she pulled out.  "This is all the cash I have with me."

"Listen I understand about these credit card mix ups.  Why don't you stop by on Monday with the cash."

Annabeth smiled at Betty.  "Oh thank you.  I'm already late now."

"No problem."  Betty handed the two boxes to Annabeth and followed her to the door, placing the closed sign on it and locking it behind Annabeth.

Not wanting to take any chances with these cakes, Annabeth walked to the kitchen to deposit them in her refrigerator, despite the fact that she knew there was no cream in them to melt.  "What's this?" she said softly to herself, removing a note held to the door with a magnet.

Sorry I missed you, it read in Julie's handwriting.  I needed you to take a seam in that black dress you made for me, but I guess it can wait.  I borrowed those gray palazzo pants from your closet for tonight.  See you at the party.

Julie had borrowed her new silk slacks.  Annabeth dashed up the stairs, wondering what she would wear to the party.  She flipped through the clothes in her closet.  There was nothing special enough.  Annabeth shook her head, which was still pounding, and she slumped down onto the bed.  She sat there silently, trying to banish from her mind the thousand thoughts that were overwhelming her.  Finally she rose, walked into the bathroom, downed two aspirins with some water and then reached into the closet for one of her cotton skirts.  She thought of wearing the gray silk top that belonged with the pants that Julie had borrowed, but she knew it would look odd, so instead she settled on one of her soft knit tops.  She looked in the mirror and sighed, shaking her head.  There lay her pretty dress on the sewing machine.  She held it up briefly.  No, it was unlikely it could be cleaned.  All her plans for this party….  At least now nothing else could go wrong.

Mother Welner was the first one to spot her as she walked in Maggie's door.  "Do you ever take off that uniform, Annabeth?" she asked. 

Laurel, having arrived late and gone directly to Maggie's, walked over to her  rescue, steering Annabeth away from R.J.'s mother.  "Mom!  What happened to your pink dress?"

"The car exploded all over it.  I'm ready to lose my mind."

"Why did you let Julie borrow your new slacks then?"

"She took them while I was out.  She didn't know I needed them. Is your father here yet?"

"Nope."

Annabeth looked at her daughter.  "Don't you look beautiful."  She stopped to give Laurel a hug, an act that calmed her.  They walked about the room together, stopping to talk to family members and old school chums that Laurel hadn't seen in a while, then Annabeth went to help Maggie with the food.  The party continued for a couple of hours, people laughing and chatting, balancing plates of excellent food on their knees, while others rose and offered toasts to the smiling couple.

It was nearly eleven when R.J. Welner entered the room, his arm around a young girl who was easily a head taller than himself.  She wore a tight-fitting, low-cut black vinyl dress that would not have been suitable for any event held in Gull's Perch, let alone an engagement party.  Her hair, bleached an even brassier shade of blonde than it had been when Annabeth first saw her, was piled high on her head, and adorned on each side with rhinestone clips.  She wore heels so high that each step required careful concentration, and because the skirt was so tight, she could move only a few millimeters at a time.  Sally took one look at her father's companion, held her hand to her mouth and raced for the downstairs bathroom.

"Where's my little girl?" asked R.J. loudly, first shaking Jackson's hand.  "Jackson, this is Linna--isn't that cute--short for Linda." 

"Hello," said Jackson politely.

"Nice to meet you," said Linna in a soft, little girl voice.  She looked around appraisingly, "Nice house you have here.  I love these old houses."

"Thanks," said Jackson, peering down her neckline.

"You look familiar to me.  Do I know you?  I used to tend bar at the Rusty Lantern."

"Don't think so."

Linna continued her conversation with Jackson as Sally approached, prompting R.J. to walk toward his daughter, reaching his arms out for a hug, which Sally granted stiffly.  "You brought a--" and here Sally paused for a long time before continuing her thought "a--a--date--to my engagement party.  How could you!"  Sally once again held her hand to her mouth and dashed toward the bathroom.

Linna was enjoying herself immensely as she regaled several of the men with barroom jokes.  One by one, their wives came over, standing by their men in a protective manner that was quite clear in its intent.  "Buzz, could you get me a drink," she called to R.J., who was walking back toward her.

Annabeth watched this scene from the corner of the room, her stomach churning.  R.J. hadn't said a word to her and had brought this girl to the party.  All the hopes she'd had about a reconciliation, about wooing him back, and then he pulls a stunt like this.  How could she ever forgive him now?

"Are you feeling all right?" asked Maggie.  "My stomach is upset."  She rushed off then, up the stairs toward her private bathroom. 

"You know, I feel odd too," commented Julie, holding her hand over her mouth and walking swiftly toward the bathroom where Sally was once again throwing up.

Annabeth walked toward her husband.  She wanted to shout at him, to eject him and his companion from the party, but instead controlled the anger that was rising from her knotted stomach and said,  "There's something wrong with my credit card, and the car broke down today.  It needs major repairs."

"I'll stop by tomorrow and we'll go over it all," he said calmly, then filled a glass with some wine and walked back toward Linna.

Annabeth looked around the room.  Everyone would be thinking the worst about R.J. and about her.  It was humiliating.   She spotted her father and walked over to where he and Ginger were standing.  They both looked a bit green.

"Are you all right?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her own problems.

"No, I feel awful," answered Ginger.  "Something I ate," she continued, pressing her hand to her stomach and cringing.

"I think we'd better head on home," said Will. "Thank Maggie for us."

In a matter of minutes the room was cleared, the weary and nauseated guests praying they would arrive at their homes in time to lock themselves in the privacy of their own bathrooms.

Annabeth remained, along with Laurel, Sally, who was now recovered, although looking quite pale, Jackson, Maggie and Hugh.

"That damn Jambalaya nearly killed us all," said Maggie sharply. "The shrimp must have turned.  Or the sausage.  Did it taste odd to you?"

"I didn't eat at all," commented Annabeth.  "Gosh, Maggie, I'm really sorry."

Maggie looked at her with annoyance.

"Um, I have something to say," interjected Sally.  Jackson reached his hand to cover hers, as she continued, but she removed her hand from beneath his.  "Maybe we are too young.  I'm sorry Jackson, but I don't think we should get married now.  I think I should go back home to Mom for a while."

All eyes turned toward her.

"What?" said Jackson. 

"You're kidding, right?" said Maggie, glaring at Annabeth.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Annabeth.

"What's the hurry?" said Laurel as Jackson scowled at her.

"Why don't we go in the other room to let the kids work this through on their own," said Hugh.

"Jackson and I can talk alone tomorrow.  Tonight I just want to go home to my own room and get some sleep," said Sally.

"Let me help Maggie clean up a bit first," said Annabeth.

"No need to bother," answered Maggie coldly.  Annabeth reached to hug her friend, who was wooden and unyielding, and then glared at Annabeth as she walked through the door behind her daughters.