Burning Flowers (7 page)

Vince was able to rush in front of her and
open her door for her. She looked at him for the first time,
noticing his nice jeans without any tears with a lilac shirt tucked
in and a black suit jacket. He actually looked pretty good. “You
clean up well,” she commented before climbing into the passenger
seat. He followed, coming around the car and getting into the
driver’s seat. She laughed as he adjusted the seat backward and
down. She had never had a man in her car before, so she didn’t
realize just how small a space she left on the driver’s side.

He took off towards the address she’d
already plugged into the GPS, and they sat there in silence on the
way there until he finally turned on the radio. Now, instead of
whistling, he was singing along to none other than “Sweet Child of
Mine” by Guns N Roses. His voice was surprisingly good, but she
chose to ignore it and looked at the window, watching the
apartments and average size houses turn into large custom builds
behind large gates. She found herself wondering about networking
while she was at the party, but her mother had probably already
poisoned them all against her. Hell, they probably remembered her
from years past as Ms. Bennett’s pitiful spinster of a daughter.
Perhaps she wasn’t that unlike Elizabeth Bennett.

Once there, she found herself feeling
jittery and held onto Vince’s hand even as they walked up to the
dark blue door that led into the room where her fate would be
decided. Was her mother going to figure them out? Was she going to
embarrass her?

Luckily, it wasn’t her mother who answered
the door. It was a tall man in a suit that looked like it had been
around for the last 50 years; a butler. He gestured them to go to
the dining room where a group of overdressed people sipping out of
champagne flutes. Clarke spotted her mother near the front of the
group chatting it up with the Colemans. Was she really still
pushing that one?

She met eyes with her ex and looked away
quickly, inadvertently squeezing Vince’s hand harder. Hopefully her
mother hadn’t already talked to him and set up some kind of old
world betrothal; not that Clarke would put that past her.

“Oh, Clarke!” her mother called, weaving
through the crowd to get to her, causing everyone to turn their
heads and watch. It was the only time her mother would even pretend
to be enthused with her presence. Her mother got to them and leaned
over far, kissing Clarke on each cheek like some French movie star.
Clarke didn’t respond, just plastered an even smile on her face.
 Mrs. Bennett was wearing a fur shrug that made Clarke feel
sick over a dark green wrap dress that probably cost way more than
it was worth. “So, I see you brought your boyfriend,” her mother
said with a wink. It was going to be even harder to convince her
mother than she thought.

Vince let go of her hand and snaked his arm
around her body to her hip, tugging her to him. Clarke mirrored his
stance, taking cues from him. She would have to leave the talking
up to him since he definitely seemed to be more convincing than she
was. “It’s nice to see you again Mrs. Bennett,” Vince said, nodding
to her. Mrs. Bennett’s eyes trailed down to where their hands were
and back up, making her disposition turn as she narrowed her
eyes.

“Same to you,” she replied, a little
shorter. “Well, now that everyone’s finally here,” she said loudly,
like she wanted people to know it was Clarke and Vince holding
everyone up even though they were on time according to the
information they’d been given. “We can all have a seat and get
started.” She waved her hand in the air and ushered the couple
towards two seats that were labeled with name cards. It put Clarke
between Vince and her mother, and they were directly across from
the Colemans. It was clearly a purposeful setup.

Clarke bounced her knee under the table
nervously as two butlers in suits came around; one with plates and
silverware and the other following with food. She watched as
everyone smoothed napkins over their laps with perfection and sat
up straight in their chairs. Clarke was sure her back would break
if she tried to sit that straight. As the men came up to them,
Vince’s hand slid over to her knee to still her leg. His hand felt
warm and strangely calming. She glanced over at him for only a
second to see him mouth, “Calm down.” Then, she watched her plate
as the second man placed two meatballs in some kind of sauce that
smelled unappetizing on her plate.

Everyone remained quiet as the man serving
the food came around three more times with roasted asparagus, rice
pilaf and a stuffed date. For all the trouble that the cooks went
through to make the food, it wasn’t going to be that
satisfying.

Clarke looked over at Vince sympathetically,
thinking he was sure to be pushing the food around on his plate
with a sour look on his face. But instead, she saw him digging in
the minute everyone had been served, downing the food in record
time. She wasn’t sure if he did it to be respectful as fast as
possible so he couldn’t taste anything or if he was actually
enjoying it.

“You know you don’t have to take this that
far, right?” she told him, leaning in to whisper into his left
ear.

“What are you talking about?” he asked,
shooting her a look as her leg began to bounce again. He squeezed
her knee harder, forcing it to be still again. She was sure he was
leaving fingerprints in her skin, but she also needed his support.
“This stuff is great. Food can be such an adventure!” he whispered
excitedly back to her. Before she had a chance to comment, her
mother spoke up.

“What are you two love birds whispering
about over there?” Mrs. Bennett asked with that underlying hint of
hatred and annoyance that only Clarke’s ears were tuned into.

“Vince was just singing the praises of the
food, that’s all,” Clarke answered, trying to keep it together. Her
mother was starting to poke at their armor, and she knew the worst
part was coming.

“Oh, is that so?” her mother asked with wide
eyes. Clarke was sure she could see the wheels turning as her own
mother tried to think of ways to use that against her. “Well, at
least your date has good taste, even if you don’t.” Mrs. Bennett
let out a cackle after she said it, like that would suddenly make
the thinly veiled insult better if it seemed like a joke to
her.

The Colemans laughed politely and dabbed at
their faces as Clarke felt eyes on her from several people at the
table.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” Mrs.
Coleman said in hopes of changing the subject. “And with a man by
your side.” Clarke tried not to roll her eyes or do anything rash.
Vince somehow sensed that she might have a problem and moved his
hand from her leg to her arm, rubbing it up and down in a
comforting way. Husbands were nothing more than status symbols in
her mother’s world. Clarke wasn’t single because no one wanted her;
she was single for so long because she didn’t want them. She wanted
to be successful without emotions and other commitments getting in
the way and causing messes that couldn’t be cleaned. Plus, why
weren’t they on her mother’s case for being single?

“It’s nice to see you again too, Mrs.
Coleman,” she said quietly, taking a few bites of the
asparagus.

“So, what have you been up to lately? We
haven’t seen you in a few years,” Mrs. Coleman continued,
eyeballing her son like she was asking all these questions for him.
No way was he that hung up on her. Her mother had been up to
something.

“Well, I got my business degree at…” she
began, but she was promptly cut off by her mother.

“She’s been dabbling in some things for a
while now, you know, exploring her options. I think, though, that
she’s almost done with that and getting ready to really settle down
and do something great; maybe even be a full time wife or
something. I’ve been looking into some of my connections to help
get her a more stable career, so keep your eyes out. Isn’t that
right, Clarke?” Mrs. Bennett turned to her daughter with pleading
eyes and a big fake smile. Clarke nodded and then looked over to
Vince for help. There was no way she could stay sitting there after
that.

Vince nodded to her plate which was still
mostly full. So, she sighed, turned to it, and began to eat a
little bit, downing her glass of wine in between bites until at
least half of the food was eaten. “Well,” Vince began, clearing his
throat. “I thank you all for having us, but if you could excuse us,
I have work really early in the morning and need to get going.
Again, the food was fantastic.”

Vince stood up and pushed in his chair
before helping Clarke to her feet and pushing in her chair as well.
They walked slowly to the door as the man form before opened it for
them, knowing that there were dozens of eyes on their backs.

Chapter
Thirteen

As soon as they made it out to the car,
Clarke let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. It
was like she hadn’t taken a good breath at all while she was inside
that house. Vince was still holding her hand, trying to comfort her
in any way he could. She leaned up against the car, putting her
forehead up against her forearm. She just breathed in and out,
trying her best not to sob. She wasn’t a big crier; never had been.
In fact, only her mother seemed to bring it out of her. But she
needed to suck it up. She forced the tears away and turned around,
letting go of Vince’s hand and slumping over.

“I know you’re upset, but we should probably
get out of here,” Vince suggested, looking at her sympathetically.
That was exactly why she didn’t want him or anyone to be exposed to
that. She didn’t want sympathy, just to be seen separate of all of
that drama. She nodded, though, knowing he was right. The last
thing she wanted was for her mother or someone else to catch her
out there looking upset. She let him help her into the passenger
seat and shut the door before coming around to get in the car
himself.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she begged
through gritted teeth. “I don’t want that.”

“Okay,” Vince agreed with a simple nod. As
he started the car the radio came on, but he turned it down as he
slowly pulled off of the street. “So, do you just want me to take
you home?” he asked. Clarke looked over at him curiously still
sniffling a little.

“Not really; what’s on your mind?” she
asked, surprising herself by actually wanting to know. He had
really saved her back there, and it had impressed her a little.

“Well, I thought after that you could use a
little fun, but I know you don’t like that word very much,” he
teased with a wink. “I was just wondering if you’d let me take you
somewhere for a bit,” he clarified.

Clarke shrugged, knowing that she would just
go home and sit on her bad mood all night if she didn’t go with
him. If she was pretending to date him, then why not just let him
show her how to have fun? “Alright, but this is not a date.”

“Oh, of course not,” he answered with a
chuckle, and she braced herself as he cut over a few lanes to turn
towards the highway.

“So, where are we going?” she asked,
eyeballing him suspiciously.

“Have you ever been to Tuckahoe?” Tuckahoe
was a town just west of Richmond.

“No, I don’t really get out much.”

“You don’t say?” he teased, heading out of
town. She appreciated that he was trying to lighten her mood.
“Then, this is going to be a real culture shock for you.” He
laughed and hit the gas going at least ten miles over the speed
limit. His driving wasn’t unlike her own, but it had a whole
different purpose behind it. Clarke sat back against her seat and
relaxed into blank thoughts as Vince turned the radio back up,
singing along to every song. She even found herself quietly humming
to a few on the way, but not loud enough that he could hear.

Soon, they exited the highway and approached
the “Welcome to Tuckahoe” sign. She watched out her window as the
historic downtown area approached. It was booming with traffic on
foot and in cars. There were people blocking parts of the street,
and she could hear music playing over speakers that must be mounted
outside the bars and shops that lined the area. Vince pulled up
into an empty lot where cars were randomly parked everywhere with
no clear parking spots and helped her out of the car. He walked
with her up to the main street still lined with bricks from when
the original town was built. She looked around to see people in
shorts and cowboy boots or jeans and western shirts with cowboy
hats.  She suddenly felt very overdressed.

“I don’t think we’re dressed for the
occasion, Vince,” she commented loudly as they walked underneath a
speaker playing a Garth Brooks song. Country had always been a
strong culture in Virginia, but she had never really taken part.
She was more of a hip hop and pop kind of girl. But there was a
certain charm to the simplicity of everything.

“You look great, so why do you care?” Vince
asked, leading her into a shop at the end of the block. He opened
the door for her, and she looked at him for a second, contemplating
what he said. He was right; they weren’t at some high society
party. It didn’t matter what she was wearing as long as she felt
good.

Clarke stepped into the door and instantly
smelled alcohol; specifically beer. It was a small local brewery,
and there were a few people hanging around inside trying various
types of beer. Vince went up to the man at the counter and paid for
a couple of glasses with the business name on it; “Virgil’s
Brewery”. Vince passed her a glass. “Help yourself to whatever beer
you want to try. The amber is over there to the left, the lagers
are to the right and the ales are behind us.”

Clarke looked around, feeling lost. She’d
never had beer; only wine and champagne. She had always thought it
was more of a guy thing. “I have no idea what you’re talking
about,” she admitted, looking at Vince apologetically.