The Fire Night Ball (19 page)

Was he posing a serious question
?

She thought a moment, then offered a gentle, but serious answer.

“Yes, it is. You see, I'm devoted to Harry Drake, until death do us part, and I’m expecting he’ll do the right thing by me.”

“You mean, stand by you while you have his baby? Divorce his wife and marry you?”

“I don't know what it means. Only one thing has become clear to me. I shouldn't have an abortion just to let Harry off the hook. There should be a better reason than that."

Ron was smiling approvingly at her. Seeing the look of admiration on his kind face, she blushed and changed the subject.

“Ron, will we see each other tomorrow night?”

“Jiminee. I almost plumb forgot. The main reason I came by was not to lecture you about the dangers of alcohol but for a purely selfish reason."

"And that is?" She flashed a smile. He felt it inside, as a heat that was threatening to melt him into a puddle before her eyes. He cleared his throat.
Get on with it, cowboy.

"May I have permission to escort you and your mother to the big shindig? I'm a plain country doctor, but even clods have fantasies. Mine is making a grand entrance to the Christmas Fire Night Ball with the prettiest girl in town on my arm.”

Marlena pursed her rosy lips, considering.

It wouldn’t hurt for Harry to see her being escorted by the town’s most handsome, very eligible bachelor. It might just inspire Harry to do the right and loving thing by her (even if it was for the wrong reason).

“Why, that would be very nice, Ron,” she said, flashing her amazing eyes at him. “Mother will be thrilled.”

He felt crestfallen by the reply, but what he said was: “Fantastic. I’ll arrive a bit early, then.”

“I’ll look forward to it. Ciao.”

Close on the heels of Ron’s departure was the arrival of Apollo Nelson, dusting off snow as he came inside with Pierre.

He walked into the kitchen where Marlena was having a light breakfast and asked if there was anything he could do for her.

She smiled sweetly and said she’d be most obliged if he would get the tallest ladder from the barn and meet her at the mill wheel.

With Apollo up on the ladder and her supervising, the two spent the next hour affixing a long, fresh garland strung with lights to the mill wheel. It had been successfully repaired and was now fully operational.

When they finished decorating it, they turned it on with an electric switch. The giant wooden wheel began slowly to rotate, making a whirring noise that was very pleasing to her ear alongside the splash of falling water.
What a soothing, natural effect
.

Through the glass wall in the kitchen, Annie was watching Apollo and Marlena work. The rotation and the lights on the garland, flashing like twinkling stars, cast a resplendent vision of light and shadow across the room.

"Isn't that thing going too fast?" Annie muttered as Chloe was heading out the door. "Apollo should adjust the speed. Someone could get hurt."

To celebrate the mill wheel’s return to functionality, Marlena went back inside the house and made Bloody Marys for herself, Annie, and Apollo. This time, however, she made hers a virgin.

“What’s that on your sleeve?” she asked Apollo. “Looks like a goose feather.”

He swallowed a bite of egg salad sandwich, then said, “It is. I was at a feather-ticking yesterday. Jack, my oldest cousin, is getting married the day after Christmas in Bulette.”

"So I've heard," said Marlena demurely. "Jack was my horse-back riding teacher. I was his worst student ever."

“Do you mean to tell me they still do feather-tickings hereabouts for weddings?” asked Annie.

“In the Nelson family they do, leastways. If someone’s a-gettin’ hitched, the family's obliged to put together a goose-down quilt. Now there’s fewer ranches than there used to be, and sometimes it’s harder to find geese to get the feathers. But me and pop went to see Mr. Scattergood last night, and he said we could pluck some of his.“

Marlena said: “So you know Mr. Scattergood, do you?”

“Everyone knows him.”

“What do you think of him? Is he trustworthy?”

“No man here is more so. Some say he’s the only man in town to go to, if you’re hard up and can’t make your mortgage. He’ll loan you the money at no interest and on a hand-shake, so you don’t lose your house or your ranch to the bank.”

“He could get burned doing that, not to mention pissing off the bank officers,” opined Annie.

“Yeah, but so far, he hasn’t lost a dime. And he don’t care that”—Apollo snapped his fingers—“for them guys at the bank."

"Do you know why he does it?" asked Marlena.

"I think he don’t like to see them old houses get bulldozed to make way for some new crap pushed through by Drake Enterprises.”

"I work for Mr. Drake." She arched her eyebrows at him.

"Didn't know. I apologize if I've offended you, ma'am. Wouldn't do that for the world."

She decided to play devil’s advocate. “People need affordable housing, don’t they, Apollo? How is the town to grow and thrive if there’s nowhere for newcomers to live?”

He scratched his chin. “Well, ma'am, what’s the matter with fixing up the older houses and keepin’ the trees? Why do they have to pull 'em all down, just to put up new, when the stuff they build is so cheap, with walls thin as paper and no space between houses? That’s what I don’t understand about this so-called development thing.”

She laughed.

“Bravo. I believe exactly the way you and Mr. Scattergood do about local development, and I'd hate to see any more shoddy housing going up in this wild territory. There might be a way I can save some of the old buildings in our home town. With the help, in fact, of your Mr. Bryce Scattergood.”

Apollo's face lit up, this time with more than ardent admiration of the lady’s beauty. He had the eager look of a knight errant on a mission. Where had she seen look before? Why, on Ron's face, just now.

What was up with that? Did Ron seriously have a thing for her?

“Ma’am, I’d love to work with Mr. Scattergood. You let him know that, will you? Now that we have only the one horse, and the high school kid comes in twice a week, Miss Chloe’s just keeping me on to be nice. I’d do anything in this world that you wanted me to. Say the word. I’m your man.”

She put her right hand on his wide shoulder, which quivered at her light touch, then laid her hand on the round oak table. “I dub you a knight of the round table, Apollo Nelson.”

After walking around aimlessly for awhile, Marlena went into Chloe's downstairs study. Chloe had told her she was welcome to anything in this room that wasn’t under lock and key. She picked up the manuscript from the Cleveland doctors that Chloe had been asked to review in her article, on maternal attachment disorders.

These were the materials she chose to take into her bedroom with her to read while awaiting Harry’s call at one o’clock. At noon, she picked up the phone in her room to make sure it was working. Chloe’s expected return wasn't until three o’clock.

Everything was in order for Harry’s call, provided Ron had succeeded in his mission.

One by one, Ron was checking off completed missions for the love of his life.

First, he stopped at Bower of Bliss Flower Shoppe and ordered flowers for his hostess, an elegant basket of Birds of Paradise flown in from Florida. He also selected corsages for Marlena and Faith Bellum--white camellias from North Carolina--to be ready for pickup on the afternoon of Christmas Day.

Then he went into his office and sat at his desk. He was preparing himself mentally to place the call to Harry Drake, whom he’d never heard anyone say anything good about.

He now personally regarded the man in a most unfavorable light. Yet he must take the right tone with him, not judgmental but firm, a man-to-man approach.

Ron allowed himself a few moments of righteous indignation before placing the call. This powerful man was almost certainly unworthy of Marlena’s love. Drake enjoyed unparalleled prestige in the community and already had a beautiful wife of his own. Yet he’d stooped to making a mockery of the titles of boss and husband.

If Ron hadn't promised he would get Harry to call Marlena, he wouldn't have been able to restrain himself from calling the cad out. But a promise was a promise, even where his opinions were in the way, and so he placed the call, meanwhile loathing himself for carrying out this particular mission.

“Merry Chrithmath. May I know who ith calling, pleathe?”

He’d reached the butler first, which was a relief. Ron guessed he could easily get past such a personage.

“This is Dr. Ron Huddleston speaking. Is Mr. Drake at home? If so, I must speak to him personally, on a matter of some urgency.”

“Yeth, Dr. Huddlethon, he ith here, thomewhere.” The butler sounded bemused. “I’ll get him on the phone, if you don’t mind holding.”

“Thank you. I'll hold.”

In her study near the hall phone, Lila had heard Alexander say the doctor's name to Harry. She softly picked up the phone and heard the sound of a whistled Christmas carol, "Oh Come All Ye Faithful.”

Marlena would have recognized it as Typhoid Ronnie’s tried and true, Tom-Sawyer-like method of dealing with stress. Indeed, Ron had the endearing habit of whistling Christmas tunes year round.

“Harry Drake."

"Hi. Ron Huddleston."

"What’s this all about, Dr. Huddleston? Plague hit the town?”

“Mr. Drake, we aren’t acquainted, and I apologize for disturbing your holiday weekend. But it has fallen to me to transmit an urgent message from a lady we both know."

"Yes?"

"I have a message from Marlena Bellum that it’s urgent you reach her today at one o’clock by phone. She’s tried to contact you but has been unsuccessful. I'm directed to instruct you as to how to reach her. That way, you can be assured only Marlena will be at the other end of the line.”

And then Ron explained the signaling process.

Harry cleared his throat. “Is that all?"

“It is, but there’s one additional message from me. If you fail to call her, you’ll have me to answer to.”

Click.

Harry looked at the phone in his hand as though it were an adder poised to strike. The next moment, he was so hot under the collar, he could barely contain himself from calling that pipsqueak Huddleston back and giving him a piece of his mind.
Outrageous! No one tells me what to do!

This added pressure only confirmed Harry in his resolution not to make a single move to contact Marlena. They were over and done with. This third party call was only another one of her tricks to railroad him into doing what she wanted.

Signal her. What a crock of donkey shit.

He'd be forced to see her tomorrow night, but it would be in a public setting where she wouldn't be able to bare her soul. She'd get one dance, and that would be it. He slammed down the phone, making his wife jump from her seat in the adjoining room.

With the open line buzzing in her ear, Lila quietly put the white phone into its cradle. After the scoop she'd obtained from her inside source at the doctor's office, Huddleston's call proved her original hunch was right: Marlena was pregnant with Harry's child.

Slumped in her chair, Lila held her stomach, grieving her barrenness. She’d gotten pregnant when she was only fifteen. She couldn’t recall the pimply boy who’d taken her to the cotillion and barely remembered losing her virginity. Then she had miscarried.

It was all hushed up, as was done in the best families. The doctors had told her parents it was unlikely she’d ever bear a child to term, as she had a heart-shaped uterus.
But she hadn’t believed them then, and she still didn’t.

What was her next move? Perhaps she should get on the phone and line up a lawyer. She wouldn't put it past Harry to divorce her and marry Marlena so he could fulfill his destiny and leave his empire to his progeny, like Henry the Eighth.

Though she needed to protect her own interests, Lila found herself disinclined to do anything that would hurt the kid. She felt a keen sympathy for Marlena, who was more vulnerable than ever before, with the cat out of the bag and no commitment from Harry.

What must she be going through, in the situation that she was in? Yes, the truth was she liked the kid a lot, much more than she liked Harry. He was up to his old tricks again. This week, there’d been repeated calls from that new woman he'd taken up with--the dishwater-hair with acne and a boob job who worked in the sheriff's office.

Harry claimed the woman was calling him to get her brother a job. But she figured otherwise. Alexander said she was the town's pot connection. Just like Harry, to let the kid down just when she needed him the most.

Marlena waited all afternoon for a call that never came.

By Christmas Eve, she felt depressed and restless. When Chloe and Faith retired to their rooms to wrap presents for the morning gift exchange, she pretended to go to bed, then sneaked out.

Zooming down the dark, clear road, with the snow-bank on each side up to ten feet at some points, she felt as though she were spinning through a tunnel. However, the great outdoors made her felt better--more clear-headed and focused. She took a deep breath, then another.

With an uplift of her customary optimism, she felt sure she would run into Harry at B.L. Zebub’s. He hated the holidays and would seek respite in his bar. This was a spite battle, and she had a hunch he was waiting and hoping for her to find him. She willed him to be there.
He doesn't know how important it is we meet before Christmas. Why should I hold his little power play against him?

Half an hour later at the bar, with Sally and Coddie perched on either side, she realized her hunch couldn't have been more wrong. She felt bereft.
What had happened to her special powers?

Sally couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself, and Coddie was stinking drunk. She needed desperately to get back to Mill's Creek and sleep, but Sally was pressing for a commitment to join her in Key West immediately after Christmas.

"We're leaving the day after Christmas. Wouldn't miss the big ball tomorrow at Miss Vye's house. Stretch has promised the Bloods we'll both be there, with bells on our toes and cocaine up our nose." Sally laughed huskily. "Just say the word and I'll buy the ticket for you, sweetie. First class, of course. We can all leave together."

"Thank you, Sally. You know I want the job, but there are a number of reasons why that timing probably won't work for me," said Marlena. "I'll let you know for sure at the party. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas Eve tonight, and Santa brings you what you want."

Sally rolled her eyes with a suggestive expression, which Marlena pretended to ignore.

Coddie had been exuberantly glad to see Marlena come in. Hoping to catch her, he’d been hanging around all day in the bar. As soon as she turned away from Sally, he hunkered down close to her and mumbled in her ear.

Did she recall flirting in the lunchroom at PAD and passing notes to him from her cubicle?

"I need to go to the bathroom, Coddie. Please let me out."

She was washing her hands when Coddie came crashing through the door. He pretended he’d mistaken the ladies' room for the men's, but she didn't buy it. He wasn't that drunk.

"All I want is to be ish your white knight in flaming--sorry, make that shining ardor.”

"Don't you mean armor?"

"I mean every word I shay to you. Shay something nice to me. Shay, I love you, Coddie.”

His eyeballs were the color of blood. Perhaps he was that drunk.

"I love you, Coddie. But your behavior is not helping us."

She pushed him off as he tried to kiss her, meanwhile repeating over and over again he was in love with her. Then his tactic changed.

"Does little Marlena want Coddie to challenge big bad Harry to a duel? He’ll do it, by God." He slammed his fist on the marble counter.

Shirley, the bartender, came through the door at that moment.

"Is there a problem, Marlena? What's he doing in here?"

“It's all right. He'll quiet down in a minute. Leave him to me. Thanks anyway."

"Let me make love to you as a Christmas gift." He whispered the suggestion into her ear, his lips slobbering.

Coddie's next proposal was that he would tear up the divorce papers and they could wing off to Vegas to renew their marriage vows.

"I'll raise Harry's bastard as my own child."

"That's a wonderful offer, Coddie. I promise I'll think about it if you go upstairs and get a good night's sleep. I have to go to Chloe's, but I can't go until you're safely upstairs."

"Can we dansch the last dansch at the ball?" he asked owlishly. He had slumped onto the floor, which he was gazing vacantly at.

"You've got it," she said, dragging him to a standing posture.

"I always loved you, even when you looked like a flag. Lemme put it into you, jus’ for one l’il second."

"I love you too, but that's out of the question."

She was maneuvering him with great difficulty through the door. She looked up and saw Ron Huddleston coming toward them.

She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. With Ron's help, she got Coddie up to his room, where he continued to rave, so finally Ron injected him with a sedative from a kit he providentially had with him.

After Coddie was settled, Ron conveyed the information that he'd reached Harry earlier in the day and had delivered the message. Had Harry called as planned?

She lowered her eyes. "No."

"Perhaps he was called away on business."

Marlena shook her head.

She was hoping Ron would invite her somewhere for a drink. Instead, he ordered her home, making it clear that there would be no bar stroll for them tonight.

"You don't look well enough to be out," he said sternly.

"What a party pooper," she taunted him, But while driving back to Mill's Creek, she thought how loving Ron was, how balanced, kind, competent, and smart. Ron would be a vastly superior father to either Coddie or Harry. They were too old and egotistical; their sexual powers were waning, and their relationship skills were woefully lacking.

Who was she kidding? Ron didn't care for her, not that way. He'd ordered her to go home as if she were a child.

Defiantly, she gunned the engine. Then she had to slow down to make the icy turn into the entranceway to Mill's Creek.

That night, around midnight, she was awakened by a sharp pain in her belly. She got up and went into the bathroom.

On the crotch of her panties was a streak of blood. She panicked.

Oh God. Please don't let me lose this baby on Christmas Eve.

She was afraid to venture very far, so she went to the window, opened it, and called out, as loud as she could.

"Hello! Is anyone out there? I need help!"

Because of his cousin's wedding, Apollo Nelson was late doing his evening chores. He happened to be walking under her window on his way to the barn.

"Halloo! Is that you, Miss Marlena?"

"Thank God! Apollo, will you come up here, please? I'm having a-a medical problem. I need for you to find my mother for me, but I can’t walk. It's an emergency."

"Yes, ma'am! Have her there in two shakes."

As he took off at a gallop, she thanked her lucky stars. Her mother slept like the dead, but Apollo would prevail. A scant three minutes later, Faith was standing at her bedside in an old flannel robe.

"Lena, don't worry, I'm here."

Faith frowned at Apollo, whereupon he made himself scarce, congratulating himself for saving the day for the gorgeous doll he was madly in love with.

“I’m in some trouble, Mama. I know you know I'm pregnant. I’m afraid I’m losing the baby. Isn’t that a kicker? I was gearing myself up to throw myself down the stairs, and now I'm freaking out.”

"Let's see what we've got here, Lena. Don't worry. This happens to women during the first months. I'll put in a call to your doctor, if you like."

"No, let's not do that just yet. I've already troubled my doctor enough for one day."

Once she'd determined her daughter was in no real danger, Faith knocked on Chloe's door and alerted her to the situation. Chloe swiftly was there, in her flannel nightgown, with extra blankets and a comforting array of stories about friends of hers and patients who'd survived similar problems with good outcomes.

The three women had a heart-to-heart huddle in the middle of the night about the pregnancy. Then, haltingly, Marlena told them of her attempts to contact Harry. But he hadn’t responded to her, remaining silent day after day, and she’d been struggling with what to do.

How did she send the message? Faith asked.

Marlena told them the message was left on his fireplace mantle days ago at the hotel, where he would be sure to see it.

"Oh my God." Marlena stared at them.