The Awakening (8 page)

      It took Jefferson ten seconds to make it into the living room. He bolted around the corner and charged into the room.
       “I can explain.”

      Adele rose, looked him square in the eye and said, “You can? Oh good, I’d love to hear it.”

      Jefferson gave Adele a blank stare. He inched his way toward her.

      “Adele,” he said. “I…I ─”

       She raised her hand. “Never mind,” she said coldly. “Save your breath.”

       Jefferson’s eyes grew instantly cold, his body rigid.

      “You’re not being fair.”

       “Fair? You want fairness?”
       “I’d like a chance to explain. I mean, I never said I’d never dated before.”
       “That’s true.”

      “Thanks for listening,” he said.

      “Oh honey, I’m not listening, I’m just letting you sweat.”

       “Huh?”

      “You were flirting, Jefferson! While I was in the next room, the love of your life. You two timing jerk!”

    “You were listening in on a private
conversation.
That makes you a snoop.” Jefferson blurted.

      She glared at him. “I can’t stand you; you two-timing ladies’ man. Not sure when,” she shook her head. “But I’m leaving. You and Louise make a perfect couple.”

      “You can’t mean that. Adele I love you. I was planning on asking you to marry me. Will you?”

      “Not in a million years!”
       Then like a whirlwind, she stormed upstairs. She spent the day in her room sulking.

     Adele lay in a depression, miserable on her bed. She’d had nothing to eat that evening. Instead she searched for a pen and paper. She found some and began to write. Tears filled her eyes, and she wept until hours later she lay exhausted. She thought to pray, but didn’t. She wanted to go home, and now hated the mansion, and Jefferson.

      She kept remembering Jefferson’s casual conversation to Louise, his sleazy girlfriend. The memory sickened her.

     How could she have been so stupid to think Jefferson would be interested in her, a poor little farm girl? Why hadn’t she seen what a flirt he was right from the start? The canoe incident was a dead giveaway.

     Obviously, he could have as many girlfriends as he wanted.

     They can have him!

Chapter 12

     While Adele was brooding, Jefferson was in his room rehearsing the events of the day. His so called friend had ruined a perfectly good the day.

    Deep in thought, he remembered Adele’s cruel words and wondered how their love could go from passion to hatred in one afternoon. The thought of her hating him was more than he cared to think about. He’d seen such a different side of her, not understanding any of it, or her, and that caused him to question if he should be dating anyone.

    Time passed with him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, a blank look on his face. When he heard a knock at the door, his heart leaped.
Maybe it’s Adele.
When he opened the door he saw it was Aunt Eva, and that warmed him.

    “Can I come in?” she asked, leaning her hand against the doorframe.

    “Of course. I don’t understand how things got so out of control, Aunt Eva. How could Adele turn everything around and become so angry with me? Did you hear her?” he asked, before falling back on his bed, exasperated with the situation.

    Eve shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding. You mean to tell me you don’t understand?”

    Jefferson turned his head and looked up. “No, I don’t.”

    Eva sat beside him and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh honey, you have a lot to learn about women.”

    Jefferson sat up. “Adele had no right listening in on my conversation.”

   “Do you love her?” Eva asked.

    “Yes.”

   “Were you flirting with the other girl?”

    “Guess, sort of.”

    “Why flirt with other women?” Eve scolded. “Adele has every right to be upset even if she had no right to listen in on your conversation.”

    “I guess?”

    “I know.”

     Jefferson sat staring at the blue quilt on his bed. “What was I supposed to do? Hang up?”

    “Yes. You should have told her to fly a kite, get lost, never call again because you are in love with Adele. You do love her, right?”

    “Yes, of course.”

    “Doesn’t seem that way.”

    “Suppose not. How long before she forgives me?” He raised one eyebrow slightly.

    “I don’t know, she is pretty upset. And rightly so. I’d suggest you leave her alone. Give her some space. Trust is a hard thing to get back.” She gave him a pat on the back.

    “So I’m a fool. Adele was right when she said I was an idiot.”

    “Yes.” Eva gave him another pat on the back before standing up, leaving him to stew over the things he should have done.

                                    *  *  *

August 14, 1971

    Bentley was more worried about Adele than he let on. Every day she would go to the greenhouse and sit for hours, oblivious to Jefferson eyeing her from his bedroom window. Weeks had slipped by since their argument, and Bentley thought she’d had more than enough time to heal, and thought her behaviour was unnatural.

    Sunday morning Bentley set out to find her in hopes of bringing her to her senses. After walking a mile, he saw her sitting on a bench, looking lost and forlorn. When he called, she didn’t budge.

    “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why are you so far away from home?”

    Adele looked up. “Because I like it here. Feels safe.”

    Bentley noticed her tangled hair which obviously had been neglected for days. She had a morbid looking dress on, all gray and black and she looked awful.

    “Adele,” he began, “You’ve become like a daughter to me. I always wanted a daughter, though we don’t always get what we want in life.”

    “What’s your point?”

     “Do you honestly believe that running away from your problems is the answer?” He cocked his eyebrow and stared at her.

    Adele was quick to snap back.

    “I don’t run from my problems.”

   “Yes, you do. You can’t face Jefferson. Instead you ran away. You ran away from home, too, don’t forget. You’re not being fair. Not to
Jefferson
or yourself.”

    She stiffened. “What are you, a shrink?”
   “No, your friend. You know that.”
   “Oh fine! I’ll go back if that’ll make you happy. But I don’t run from my problems!”

   Bentley took her by the hand, gently holding it to his lips, giving her a tender kiss. “Then will you stop wearing Eva’s funeral dress?”

    She lowered her head. “Maybe.”

    He folded her in his arms and gave her a fatherly hug. “C’mon, I’ll help you back.” Holding her with one arm around her waist he slowly edged her back to the estate.

     Bentley shuffling her into his office and asked Eva to make sure they weren’t disturbed. He sat beside her on the sofa, pleading with her to listen.

    “Thanks for coming inside. The grounds are lovely, I know. I had them made for my dear sister, Mary. She loved flowers. I visited them often after her death, only to realize how depressed I’d become afterward. I have a grounds-keeper who lives there. Have you met him?”

    “No, I’ve never met anyone in the gardens.” She rubbed her nose with a napkin that she’d carefully folded and stuffed up her sleeve. “I didn’t know you had hired help.”

    “Yes, actually, I do. He’s become a very good friend, although he’s quite a recluse,” he said. “It’s not good to spend so much time alone, like he does.  It only causes one to become withdrawn.”

   “I know I shouldn’t have left. I just don’t know what to do,” she said, wiping her eyes with the napkin.

    “I know,” Bentley said. “Adele, there’s some thing you should know.”

   “What’s that?”

   “It’s about Jefferson.”

   “What about him?”

    “Well, for starters, he isn’t the womanizer you seem to think he is. I realize you probably think my only concern is for him, but I can assure you it’s not.” He watched as Adele grew stiff, and shifted her body as though she was ready to leave.

    “He’s only twenty-two,” he continued. “I know to you, he seems much older and wiser and far more mature, but when it comes to women, he’s a fool. How many girls do you think he’s dated?”

    Adele pounced off her seat.

   “Don’t know, don’t care. And you’re wrong. He’s not wise. He’s an idiot!”

    Bentley stood up, ready to go toe-to-toe with her. “Yes you do, or you wouldn’t be moping around here like you’ve lost your best friend.”

    “I’m telling you, I don’t give a rats behind!” 

    “Adele, Adele, Adele. Look, Jefferson hasn’t a clue about women. Okay, so, he took a couple of girls to dinner, may have even kissed one or two of them. Big deal. Does that make him a
monster?”

     “Who’s Jefferson?” she mocked.

     Bentley shook his head. “Look, just because he acted like an idiot when that girl called— don’t write him off. Your anger, and that jealousy of yours, has gotten the best of you.”

   “Jealousy!” Adele shouted, hurrying out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

      Bentley went after her as fast as he could which wasn’t very fast these days. He stood at the bottom of the stairs panting. “You’re always angry, Adele. Always.”

              * * *

   And she was.
   Adele had never in all her life talked to anyone the way she did to Bentley. She never dreamed she’d have words with him.

   She fell on the bed and wept. She cried a hundred tears or more, and then stared at the ceiling feeling worse than before.
He has no right to say those things.

    Lying in a puddle, she spied a paper that had been shoved beneath her door. She groaned, went to the door, and grabbed the paper. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was a letter from Jefferson.

     It read:
Dear Adele, no matter what you think, no matter what you say, I will always love you. It seems all I bring you is pain and sorrow, so I will be leaving tomorrow for the university.  I won’t be here to cause you any more grief. I wish you all the best in life.

     Love always, and forever, Jefferson Quad.
 

    After the reading she had a sudden urge to find him. She couldn’t imagine him not being in the mansion, and the thought of it grieved her.

    What was the matter with her? One minute she hated him, and the next minute she couldn’t bring herself to think of him gone.

      She flung her clothes across the bedroom floor like usual, knowing it was dinnertime and somehow she had to muster up the courage to be dressed, downstairs and seated at the dinner table as Bentley had suggested. 

    She sighed her annoyance then opened up the closet. A gorgeous bright yellow dress caught her eye. How did she miss this one? Hmm, wonder if yellow stands for coward?

    She shrugged off the thought, dressed, and pinned her hair in the stylish fashion she’d grown accustomed to.

   She finished, and minutes later, nervously waltzed into the dining room ready to prove Bentley wrong.
   And that day she did indeed. She walked in the room as if nothing had happened, ate her meal and exchanged lighthearted conversation with Bentley. Jefferson sat quiet, but Adele kept up the chatter as though he wasn’t even in the room.
    To Adele’s surprise, Jefferson rose and went outside.
    She followed him recalling the note he had written. It had left quite an impression on her and she wanted to tell him that much.
     “Hi,” she said as she joined him on the front porch.
     Jefferson sat down on the patio set. “Thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”
     Adele sat down. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. To everything.”
   He smiled at her. “You’re not mad anymore?”
    “No.”
    “I’m sorry for acting like a jerk when I was talking with Louise. I never told her about you because…well, I suppose I’m a coward and hate confrontations. It was easier to just say nothing.”
    “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you. If I hadn’t listened in, I never would have known. It’s my own fault.”
    He tilted his head and looked at her for a few seconds and then asked, “Adele, will you marry me?”
    Flustered, she waved her hand around vaguely. “What?”
    “I’d like to marry you one day.”
     “Me?” She laughed and shook her head thinking how strange he sounded. Must be pulling her leg, she thought.
    “Yes, if you’ll have me.”
     Adele briefly considered the idea. She squinted her eyes at him just to look for signs that said he was teasing her, but the serious look on his face told her otherwise.
     “What’s the matter?” he asked, “don’t you believe in marriage?”
     “Yes. I’m far too young to get married, though. Besides, most marriages I know end up in divorce.”
     “Too bad. I know a lot of people who have been married to the same person for 30, 40 years.”
     “Are they happy, though?”
    Jefferson never commented.
   And Adele was glad to be off the subject.
    Not feasible, she thought.