Carolina Mist (35 page)

“So what you’re saying is that Drew was a fake but his feelings were genuine,” Abby said sarcastically.

“Sort of. Maybe. What we’re saying is we don’t know who he really is or what he really wants.” Colin spoke up for the first time. “But we will find out who he really is, Abby. I feel pretty certain of that.”

“Until you do, could we refrain from assuming that he was a crook?” Abby stood up and dropped her trowel onto the ground. “Because that’s the implication you’re making.”

“You have to admit that it looks pretty suspicious, Abby. At least be open-minded. Someone definitely broke into the house. And Drew—or whatever his name is—hasn’t been seen since.”

“Do I need to remind you that Drew was with us at the same time the house was being burglarized?”

“True. But he could have had an accomplice,” Colin said gently.

The memory of Drew standing in the shadow of the bandstand, in a lively discussion with a woman, flashed through Abby’s inner vision.

“Even if he had, how would they—or Drew, for that matter—have known about the tunnels? He wouldn’t have known, Naomi. He didn’t grow up here, like you did.”

“Maybe he knows someone who did.”

The slight glimpse Abby had gotten of the young blond woman stumbling into Abby at the town fair played again through her mind. There had been something vaguely familiar about her, but Abby had paid little attention to her at the time.

“Well, I think we owe it to Drew to wait for an explanation from him before we all convince ourselves that he’s some slick ne’er-do-well con artist.”

They all nodded, all but Abby thinking that perhaps a con artist was exactly what Drew Cassidy—by any name—was.

“
I
don’t want him to be a bad guy,” Abby muttered sullenly as she sat down on the edge of her bed and kicked off her once-white sneakers.

“I know you don’t, sweetheart.” Alex stood in the doorway and tried to soothe her. “And, frankly, neither do I.”

“So what do we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do until we hear from him.”

“I’m angry with him for deceiving me.”

“You have every right to be. I’m not particularly happy about that myself.”

Alex clenched a fist behind his back. There were things that he, too, was anxious to discuss with Drew. Starting with the abuse of Abby’s trusting heart.

“You know, we could be blowing this way out of proportion. There could very well be a logical explanation.” Abby peeled off her socks and dropped them to the floor.

“I guess anything is possible. Just promise me that you will let me know if and when you hear from him.”

“I will.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and was about to pull it over her head, when she looked up and asked, “Don’t you think you should go and keep
your grandmother company while I
get cleaned up?”

“No.” He shrugged casually.

“Don’t you think she’ll get suspicious, if both of us are up here, together, for more than ten minutes or so?”

He closed the door behind him quietly and crossed the room with deliberate and clear intent. When he reached the place where she sat, his arms pulled her to him and surrounded her like a comforting thought.

“I think Gran has already caught on,” he said softly, tracing a line with his tongue along the right side of her face.

“How do you think she feels about it?” Abby tried to focus on her words as she awaited his response, knowing that if he didn’t back away in, oh, the next thirty seconds or so, she wouldn’t remember the question, so the answer wouldn’t much matter.

“I think she is delighted.” Alex’s mouth seemed to swallow her whole, and her knees began to shake.

Helpless to do anything else, Abby leaned back onto her bed and drew him with her. Within seconds, her world began to buzz and glow, as he led her back to that place where he alone could take her, where nothing mattered except his mouth and his skin and his body, and where the vortex of emotion and sensation swirled around her with frightening velocity and plunged them both into orbit, each with the other at the center.

Drew’s falseness, along with Belle’s opinions and just about everything else on the face of the earth, seemed to drop into a vacuum somewhere and simply ceased to exist.

39

“
D
on’t forget,” Alex whispered in her ear just before kissing her good-bye in the wee hours of a gray and rainy Monday morning, “call me the minute you hear from Drew.”

“I will,” Abby murmured sleepily.

“I’ll miss you,” he said. “Every week, it seems I miss you more.”

“Umm.”

“I’ll be out of town most of the week,” he reminded her as he tucked the quilt around her shoulders, “but I’ll be back on Friday night. It may be late, but I’ll be here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come downstairs and find something for you to munch on in the car?”

“Go back to sleep.” He patted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. “I’ll stop someplace and get coffee. That will hold me until I get to the office. I’ll be fine.”

“See you Friday,” she mumbled into her pillow. She heard him chuckle before the door closed softly.

As tired as she was, she could not fall back to sleep. After
almost a full hour of trying, she yawned mightily, then rose, groggy. A shower, she told herself. Maybe a shower would wake her up.

Feeling as if she’d been drugged, she thrust aside the flowered curtain and stepped into the pulsing stream of water whose sharp, hot needles pricked at her skin. She stood beneath the stinging drops until she felt sufficiently invigorated to face the day. Pulling back her still damp hair with a scrunchie, she slipped into a cream-colored fleecy top with long sleeves and a pair of worn but clean blue jeans. Awake now, she stretched into the new morning with pleasure as she mentally relived the hour between five and six
A.M.,
when Alex coaxed her from sleep with gentle kisses that banished all memory of the dream she’d been having when his lips had first fallen upon her bare shoulder. She shivered at the thought of it as she bounded down the steps.

Mr. Coffee was just beginning to do his thing when Belle appeared in the doorway, Meri P. close behind.

“Good morning, Belle.” Abby grinned.

“Why, yes, dear.” Belle’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “I believe in fact it is. Now where is that grandson of mine?”

“Alex left a while ago,” Abby told her, filling the pot for Belle’s tea. “He had to be in court this morning.”

“Drat,” Belle muttered.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted a word with him, that is all. I thought perhaps it was time for us to have a chat.” Belle took down her new favorite cup, which Abby and Susannah had bought for her in a gift shop in Nag’s Head, and set it on the counter.

Abby’s cheeks flushed red, knowing instinctively what was on Belle’s mind.

“You don’t need to blush, Abigail. I couldn’t be more pleased.” Belle beamed. “If the truth were to be told, all Leila and I ever wanted was for you and Alex to fall in love and marry and live happily ever after, right here in Primrose. And, my stars, it’s going to happen after all. I don’t mind telling you, Abigail, that there was a time when we—Leila and I, that is—wondered just how we were going to go about getting you two together, but it looks as if all’s well that ends well.”

Abby tried to smile wanly.

“What is it, dear? Oh, do forgive me, Abigail, I don’t mean to intrude into your private life. I’m just so happy that I
…
Abigail?” Belle peered closely at the young woman.

“Belle, I don’t want you to set your heart on Alex and me marrying and living happily ever after.”

“Why not, dear? You are in love, aren’t you? I mean, it’s obvious
to anyone who looks at you…
”

“Yes.”

“Then what, dear?”

“Alex and I haven’t discussed marriage, Belle.”

“Merely a detail.”

“Belle, it’s more than a mere detail. Alex may be transferred to another city sometime in the near future.”

“What?” Belle’s eyes narrowed with this latest bit of news.

“He apparently is in consideration for an office of his own within the firm. He expects to hear anytime now.”

“Alexander can have his own office. Right here in Primrose.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same, Belle.”

“Oh, of course, a small practice here in Primrose isn’t quite as good as a large practice in some far-off city, any fool knows
that
.
”
Belle puffed indignantly. “I don’t know what is the matter with you young folks. You simply have the oddest sense of values. Why, in my day, if you loved someone, you did what you had to do to be together. And it wasn’t always easy. I don’t even want to tell you what I went through, waiting for Granger all those years
…”

“But you knew you would be with him one day?”

“Yes, I did. And I never gave up. And I never took off looking for
fulfillment
in some big-city job, either.”

“How did you know that you would marry him?”

“I just always knew that we belonged together. And I knew if I waited long enough, it would come to be.” Belle
plunked a tea bag unceremoniously into the earthenware cup. “And it did.”

“Well, I’d say you were either very lucky or you were psychic.”

“Whatever it was, I never doubted for a second where I belonged. I’m sad to see that neither you nor my grandson has the same sense of who you are and where you belong.”

“Belle, this has nothing to do with who we are or where we belong or think we might belong.”

“Then do explain to me what this
is
all about. Explain to me, Abigail, what does matter in this life. Tell me what lasts, if not love.”

“Belle, it isn’t just about love.”

“Abigail McKenna, haven’t the past ten years of your life taught you anything? Child, when you get right down to it, love is all there is. Everything else—money, property, material possessions—can vanish in the blink of an eye. But love is always inside you, Abigail. It will always be with you. No one can steal it from you or rob you of its joys. No amount of money can buy it for you, nor can it be sold on the open market. It cannot be swept away by flood or lost to fire. It is totally portable, costs nothing, but outlasts everything else you will ever possess. There is nothing else that is
yours
that cannot be taken from you. Except for your memories, of course. Even death is powerless in the face of love, Abigail. And if you do not understand this most basic of truths, then I greatly fear for your future and pray for your soul.” Belle sighed heavily and, with a snap of her fingers, called Meri P. to her and left the room, her teacup in her hand and her air of indignation like a mantle about her tiny shoulders.

Abby was still mulling over Belle’s impassioned words when she stepped onto the front porch to collect the day’s mail. A card from Sunny and Lilly, postmarked in some little seaside resort in Maryland, was the highlight of the morning. As she passed through the hallway, the sudden shrill ring of the phone startled her. Hoping it might be Drew, she jumped on it before it could ring again.

“Ms. McKenna?” a woman’s voice inquired.

“Yes?”

“Ms. McKenna, my name is Jacqueline Post. I’m with Post Associates in Dallas. I received you
r resume several weeks ago…
”

“Oh, yes.”

“Ms. McKenna, we have an opening with a firm here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area that would be perfect for you,” Jacqueline Post purred. Abby could hear her shuffling papers. “As a matter of fact, the company has asked that I invite you to fly down here on Thursday—at their expense, of course—for an interview. They are most anxious to meet with you. Are you available?”

“Thursday?” Abby hoped her voice did not sound as much like a squeak to the woman on the other end of the phone as it did to her own ears. Abby cleared her throat. “I think Thursday is doable.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have the plane tickets sent by overnight mail.” Abby could hear the woman’s smile through the miles of phone line. “The folks at Lance and Sherman will be very pleased.”

Abby’s eyebrows rose involuntarily. Lance and Sherman was a major player in the financial world. “Can you give me an idea of the salary range?”

“They’d be willing to start you at eight thousand a year more than you were making this time last year.”

“Bonuses?”

“Absolutely. And a benefit package to die for. Every conceivable bell and whistle.”

“Well.” Abby forced an exercise of slow inhale followed by silent exhale. “Well, then. Please tell the fine folks at Lance and Sherman that I’m looking forward to Thursday.”

“Wonderful. I’ll send the tickets along with directions from the airport and everything else you need to know. Why not plan to stay over? We’ll put you up in a hotel, and we’ll have dinner, and I can show you around the city,” Jacqueline Post offered.

Abby paused, wondering if she should leave Belle alone
overnight in view of the recent break-in. She declined, saying she had a commitment on Thursday evening.

“We’ll do lunch, then,” the headhunter said agreeably before hanging up the phone.

Oh, my stars,
as Belle would say.

Abby replaced the heavy, old black telephone receiver onto its base and sat herself down on the bottom step of the front hall stairs.

A job. Not just any job. A job with a big firm. A big, stable firm. A big salary. A big future. Everything I wanted. Everything I’ve waited months for.

Abby waited for the reality of this longed-for moment to sink in. Waited for the surge of joy and triumph to flow through her. Waited for the exhilaration to kick in. She tapped one foot on the shiny floor of golden oak and waited.

Nothing.

I am happy,
she told herself.
Of course, I am. This is exactly what I prayed for. The exact job. The exact kind of company. I’m thrilled. It just hasn’t hit me yet, that’s all. But it will. It will. Soon. And I’ll be kicking up my heels. Just as soon as this good news sinks in
…

Abby walked across the street to
share her good news with Naomi.
She found her friend in the backyard, watering newly planted seedlings.

“Naomi, guess what?” Abby forced an excitement she still wasn’t certain that she felt. “I have a job interview on Thursday. In Dallas.”

Naomi looked up at her as if Abby had just sprouted a second head.

“Dallas? Why on earth would you want to go there?”

“Because that’s where this job is, Naomi. Isn’t it great? The headhunter just called. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Well, I’ll just bet Belle and Alex will both be every bit as ove
r
joyed about this as I am, Abby,” Naomi pronounced evenly.

“Alex will be. He’ll understand just what this means to me,” Abby said defensively.

“And just what, may I ask, does this mean to you?” Naomi stood and folded her arms across her chest.

“It means I can get my life moving again, for one thing.”

“Moving where, Abby? Just where is it that you want to go that you think you can only get to by way of Dallas?”

“Back into the business world. Back where I belong.”

“Well, then,” Naomi said with little enthusiasm, “I guess I should wish you well, Abby. If that is where you want to be, I certainly wish you all the best luck on Thursday.”

“Momma, Aunt Carole is on the phone.” Meredy popped her little head out the back door.

“Okay, sugar. Tell her I’ll be there in a second,” Naomi called to her daughter, who slammed the screen door as she ran back to the phone to deliver the message. “I guess I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need a ride to the airport.” Abby stood among the long rows of fledgling sweet peas and lettuce and watched as Naomi walked, her back nearly as straight and stiff as her leg, to the back porch without a backward glance.

Damn,
Abby thought to herself as the door slammed for the second time in little more than a minute.
Naomi is my best f
riend in this whole world. You’
d think she’d be happy for me.

With the very deepest of sighs, Abby started back home. Naomi’s reaction, she knew, would be a joyful noise compared to what Belle would say. Abby was wondering if it would be possible to make it to Dallas and back without telling
Belle
where she was going and why, when she happened to look across the road at the house directly in front of her, and smiled in spite of herself.

Alex’s paint job had worked wonders. Gone was the gloomy facade that had greeted her when she first arrived in Primrose. The shutters, half of which had been hanging sideways off the front of the house, had been repaired, repainted, and rehung. Once bland white, they now gleamed forest green against the taupe clapboard. Thin painted ribbons of terracotta wound around the windows to lend a touch of warmth. The front door, freshly washed down and polished to enhance the grain of the wood, stood ready to
welcome rather than to repel. The newly repaired porch with its tricolored railings had been just the right finishing touch. The once overgrown shrubs had been trimmed back to enhance rather than to hide.