A Modern Day Persuasion (2 page)

The sound of a vehicle starting in the driveway disrupted Anne’s thoughts. She rushed to the window, feeling certain that with Rick leaving, so was her future. Looking towards the street with her vision clouded by tears, Anne still managed to watch Rick as he backed his old, rusty truck out of
her father’s driveway. She pounded on the window as hard as she could, yelling for Rick to stay—but he couldn’t hear her.

Mrs. Russell pulled her away from the window. “Anne, stop this!” implored Carol. Devastated, Anne collapsed onto the bed with even more heart wrenching sobs.

Rick sat in his truck, taking one last longing look at Anne’s room. Not seeing her, he squealed off into the night…bitterness filling his veins.

Over seven years later…

“Anne, are you listening?” Carol stared at the pleasant faced young woman currently engaged in daydreaming. The two were in the middle of a consultation in Carol’s upscale office to critique Anne’s latest card designs.

Carol’s suite was clean and orderly. Her spacious and impressive mahogany desk held an opened laptop where photo’s of the Elliot family could be seen. The walls of Carol’s office were filled with modern artwork created by local artists and on either side of the room were stunning floor to ceiling windows which showcased beautiful downtown Portland, Oregon. Both women sat at a gorgeous coffee table made from a huge redwood having a diameter of over 30 inches. On its smooth lacquered surface lay a multitude of Anne’s card designs, along with price perspectives in addition to Carol’s handwritten notes.

Anne, now 25, had a sweet demeanor about her, being blessed with a smile that showed her gentle heart. She had soft features and long, silky, deep brown hair which she usually pulled back into a bun. Her eyes, a vivid shade of olive green, were big and expressive, but their impact was diminished by a deep sadness harboring within. Her beauty was quiet and reminded Carol of a flower just waiting to blossom if only love would awaken its heart. Anne was not flashy or commercialized…she was just…Anne. Strangers often thought she had been trained in ballet, as Anne’s posture was
impeccable and she held herself in such a graceful manner. Carol often remarked of the resemblance between Anne and her mother, something which pleased her god-daughter.

“Sorry,” said Anne, blushing as she shuffled through the designs to disguise being caught in a moment of reflection.

Anne found her passion in creating quaint greeting cards which Carol sold in the teashop she owned in downtown Portland. Anne’s latest line was dubbed ‘Words from the Heart’ which featured calligraphy and hand drawn designs. Her other successful creations included picturesque home greeting cards, vibrant pressed flowers and dresses cut from assorted chic fabrics.

“What were you thinking about?” inquired Carol. As much as Carol liked the new designs, she was more curious to find out why Anne seemed so distracted.

Anne stopped, trying to decide whether to tell Carol what was truly on her mind. Anne did not always agree with Carol’s advice, but she knew that whatever wisdom Carol imparted would be seasoned with genuine love. Her godmother had always sought only the best for her, so Anne decided to take a chance, asking, “Do you ever wish that things had turned out differently? I mean, life-wise?”

Carol continued to make notes on Anne’s designs. “Certainly. I wish my husband had not died. I wish many things. But dear…we can’t live in the past.”

Anne looked down in sadness, “But, do you regret some of the decisions you’ve made? Do you ever think about what might have been?”

“I…” Carol paused, giving Anne her full attention now. She knew Anne well enough to sense this was not a general question.

Taking time to study Anne, Carol saw before her an accomplished young woman full of creative talent. A graduate from Willamette University at the top of her class with a Bachelor’s in Business, Anne had unlimited promise. Too much so to be dredging up the past and living with regrets.
If her suspicions were right, Carol knew what Anne was referring to. “Please, tell me this is not what I think it is—”

“Yes,” Anne interjected with slight defiance, “I can’t help but believe if I had only married Rick we would have been happy together.”

“But there’s no certainty in that, dear,” Carol said calmly. “When he proposed, you still had two months of high school to complete and had recently been awarded the scholarship to Willamette. What did Rick have? Just a high school diploma and no career to speak of. Most likely you would have needed to drop out of school to help make ends meet and—”

“But if we were in love…” interrupted Anne.

Carol paused and looked tenderly at Anne, “Sweetheart, love doesn’t pay the bills. Besides, if he’d really been in love, Rick would have stuck around to gain your dad’s approval, even if it took years. He also wouldn’t have left you hanging all this time with not even a word, now would he?”

The words cut deep and Carol regretted speaking so bluntly. Carol lovingly pressed her hand sympathetically on Anne’s in an attempt to soften the painful truth. Even though Anne did her best to mask her anguish, the wounds inflicted that cold March day seven long years ago were still with Anne as if it were yesterday, and hearing what Carol just said made the agony cut deeper.

“Come on, you have so much on the ball now, you certainly don’t need to be pining away for some immature boy who had no future. It’s time to move on and let things lie in the past. I’m sure Rick has.” Anne forced a fake smile and nodded, satisfying Carol who was ready to get back to business. “Now, about this design. It’s particularly good. I was thinking I’ll send this off to my friend at Hallmark today.”

Chapter 1

Anne reveled in weekends like this, having the house all to herself. Her father and older sister Elizabeth were out of town touring Napa Valley, and they weren’t expected to return until Monday. Turning on her stereo, Anne allowed the music to swell loudly throughout the house, simply enjoying the freedom to do so. She sighed with contentment as she sat in the refuge of her bedroom composing a letter.

She loved her room with its comfy full bed blanketed by a hand-made quilt. Sitting at a small desk situated in front of a window, Anne peered out to appreciate the beautiful gardens below. Opening the window slightly, a fresh aroma of Daphne Odora encompassed her nostrils as she breathed in the delicate scent. Scanning her cherished haven, she noted the tall bookcase holding some of her most treasured books. On its shelves sat the works of great authors such as Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskell, Charles Dickens, and Beatrix Potter—all of which were Anne’s favorites. Anne kept her room tidy, just like her life. It was her personal sanctuary, a place where, regardless whether others were home, she could find peace and solace. Her soft and inviting bed was perfectly situated next to a large bay window that overlooked the family’s stately landscaped drive. Her room was spacious, well organized and perpetually smelled of freshly laundered sheets with a hint of lavender. To Anne’s delight and joy, her room held a small cove area situated in the corner next
to the walk-in closet. In its recesses, Anne found she could reveal her most deep and secret thoughts onto paper. It was also where the inspiration for the majority of Anne’s card designs were created. Anne loved to curl up in the cushions with a good book or sit at her desk to keep up with correspondence. Her mother had helped Anne decorate this room just before becoming ill. The theme was pink and full of princesses. That was over ten years ago and even though Anne had outgrown such things, she didn’t have the heart to change a single detail because it reminded Anne too much of her mother. This room was Anne’s last connection to the woman who had so influenced her life. Sadly, her father had removed all other traces of Emma throughout the rest of the home. He did so to protect himself. It was his way of coping with the pain, as he too, had loved her mother very deeply. Seeing things which reminded him of Emma simply hurt him too much.

Anne thought back to when she was fourteen. Emma, their beautiful mother, had gathered her three daughters together: Elizabeth age fifteen; Anne; and Mary, age eleven; embracing each one as if to never let them go. With a calm voice she announced that she had cancer. The girls were devastated. Mary started to cry and Anne told her mother there must be a mistake. How could anyone so pretty as their mom be sick? Although Anne had noticed her mother’s diminished weight and lack of energy, she never thought to question why. Emma sadly shook her head and with regret etched in her eyes, told them she only had a few weeks to live. The cancer, which had begun as a small cyst in their mother’s knee, had spread to the lymph nodes, and then to her bones, and eventually to her lungs. Emma’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she told them she was not afraid to die, however, the thought of leaving them behind was causing her immeasurable grief. Emma’s sole concern was for her three precious girls. To leave them at the brink of womanhood seemed unthinkable
and so unjust. Emma also knew her beloved husband would be in no state of mind after her death to care for them as they needed. Fortunately, Carol, her best friend since childhood, decided to locate closer in order to be near Emma until the end. With the move, Carol promised to look after the ‘little Miss Elliot’s’, raising them as she would her own. Emma felt as if Carol was a godsend, for she knew her dear friend loved the girls almost as much as she did. This knowledge allowed Anne’s mother to have peace during her final days, knowing her children were to be left in good hands.

Emma managed to live another ten months, bravely slipping away quietly, surrounded by the ones she loved most. The doctor was surprised, saying it must have been sheer will power that had kept their mother alive that long. Anne rejected the doctor’s assumption. She knew it was love.

The intercom rang, indicating there was someone at the front door. Since Anne was not expecting anyone, she was half-tempted to pretend no one was at home but thought better of it. What if it was the friendly old lady next door needing some help again or Carol stopping by on her way home from work?

Anne hurried down the long staircase to the huge double doors. She peered through the peephole to see a messenger standing outside holding a large yellow envelope. Opening the door with caution, Anne left the chain lock in place. The messenger smiled, holding up an electronic slate for Anne’s signature, passing it through the cracked door. Anne signed off and thanked the messenger as he handed the envelope in return.

Closing the door, she looked oddly at the package. It was addressed to Mr. Elliot and said, ‘Immediate Response Requested’, bearing a return address of Shepherd, Zielinski & Steinburg, Attorneys at Law. Knowing it could be important, and also that her father wouldn’t object, Anne decided to open it.

Even in her wildest dreams, Anne could not have imagined what she read. The papers held a notification of a foreclosure on their home! She wondered at first if this was some sort of joke, but quickly realized the court seal was authentic, along with official documentation from their bank. A thought popped up unbidden into Anne’s head—
No wonder he left town
! She chided herself for thinking badly of her father, but yet was resentful at having to face this alone. How quickly things change! Wasn’t it only ten minutes earlier she had been thankful to have the house all to herself? Now, she couldn’t wait for her family to return!

Chapter 2

Carol was a fashion plate. Despite being a widow for many years, she didn’t let that hinder her from keeping up with designer trends or the social scene. Many admired Carol’s ability to dress with class and flair. Her hair was an exquisite shade of silver, which was the envy of older women, and Carol kept it short, much like Judi Dench. Her trademark was to wear either black or brown, using color simply to accessorize. Anne thought her godmother a lovely woman and admired the way Carol always spoke her mind. Carol never had children of her own, but didn’t feel cheated since the Elliot girls had filled that void, always making it her duty to guide and advise them. Of the three Elliot girls, she and Anne were the closest, forging a strong bond of love.

Carol sat looking at the foreclosure notice, “Has your dad seen this?”

Earlier that morning, upon receiving an S.O.S. call from Anne, she agreed to meet with her god-daughter at their favorite coffee shop. It was a little hole in the wall, but the coffee was exceptional. For a Saturday, it was especially busy, but luckily they had been able to secure a booth. Soft piano tunes played in the background, lending a relaxing aura to drown out the buzzing coffee grinders and chiming cash registers amongst the throng of people.

Anne shook her head negatively in reply to Carol’s question, taking a sip of her steaming coffee before speaking. “Dad, Elizabeth, and Susan won’t be in town until tomorrow.”

Susan Clay was Elizabeth’s friend. Anne didn’t trust or care for her, feeling she was just looking for her next meal ticket after a recent divorce.

“What’s your next course of action?” Carol asked.

“That’s the $26,000 question,” began Anne, “I don’t know, move I guess. I can’t touch my mother’s estate for another five years. The thing that gets me is Dad didn’t even tell me he was in financial trouble!”

Carol shrugged, “Maybe he didn’t know.”

Resentment showed in Anne’s face. “That’s hard for me to believe. More likely he didn’t care.” Anne took another sip of her coffee and wondered how tomorrow would play out with the return of her father and sister. She was not looking forward to it.