Beauty: an Everland Ever After Tale (9 page)

She’d received the folded message yesterday, when Gordy stepped into her store, tipped his hat, and handed the envelope to her without saying a word. She might have thought she’d offended him, except for the smirk he sent her way. Knowing it was from Vincenzo, she’d opened it right away and saw the script that managed to wander across the paper.

Join me for a picnic tomorrow after church? Just the three of us.

So of course she sent Eddie back with an agreement. They often closed the store Sunday afternoon, and this would be a lovely day. Two friends, a teacher and his student, enjoying a gorgeous spring day together.

As they rounded Perrault Street, she saw Jack Carpenter standing on Vincenzo’s front steps. And…was that Vincenzo himself speaking with him? It was! The man—the self-proclaimed recluse—was actually standing on the front porch, speaking with Jack. The doctor must have alerted him to their arrival, because suddenly he stood straighter and turned his face towards the street.

She pulled Eddie to a stop in front of his house, and smiled at both men. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Jack bobbed his head and murmured a “hello,” but Vincenzo felt for the railing and came down the steps towards them. His formal, flourishing bow had her giggling. “Mrs. Mayor! I’m so glad that you and young Eddie deigned to join me this fine day. Doctor Carpenter here was just telling me that the absolutely best place to picnic in these parts is north of town, near…” He turned slightly to include Jack in the conversation, “Which lake was it?”

Jack smiled. “Lake Enchantment, north of town. It’s pretty rare to find a lake in these parts, and this one is…” He shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, there’s something special about it. It’s actually why Everland is here—people settled here because of it.”

Nodding, Vincenzo turned back to them. “Then I should visit it, I suppose. Lake Enchantment, apparently. Do you know it?”

Eddie was practically vibrating with excitement. “Do we? Yes, sir! Tom and Jack and me go down there to fish, all the time!” Eddie’s voice turned hesitant, then. “I brought my poles, if that’s all right, sir?”

“Of course it’s all right, son. You can give me some pointers.” Arabella’s breath caught slightly at Vincenzo’s grin. He seemed as excited as Eddie was about this outing. As excited as she was, truth be told. “Gordy—who is hiding inside, I think—has already packed a luncheon.” He turned back towards the porch, but Jack was there with the basket, holding it out.

“Here you go,
Signore.
”

The gesture obviously surprised Vincenzo, but he recovered, and managed to grab the basket’s handles on the second attempt. “Thank you, Jack.” Then he thrust his hand out towards the other man. “And thank you for your advice on the picnic locale.”

One brow raised at the gesture, Jack shook the offered hand, and then glanced at Arabella. She wondered what he thought of her, spending the afternoon with a single man and with only her son for a chaperone. “Not a problem. I hope that you three have a nice time. Meredith, Zelle and I used to head up that way when Zelle was younger, but we stay closer to home these days.”

As their daughter had gotten older, Jack and Meredith were very careful about where she went and who she went with…and it was more than just being proper. Zelle rarely attended social functions, and Briar was her only real friend. Arabella just credited it to her parents being over-protective.

They set off for the Lake, Eddie leading the way. After the first few strides, Arabella realized that Vincenzo’s steps were hesitant, and she almost rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Of course the man was hesitant; he couldn’t see, and he rarely left his house. Without once considering how it would look, she took his free hand and tucked his elbow against her side. They were pressed against one another, and she told herself it was for his sake, so that he could feel any changes in cadence or terrain. And she told herself that anyone from town who saw them would only consider that aspect of it; she wasn’t being too improper.

And she definitely did
not
tell herself it was because of the frisson that jolted across her chest and down her arms, when she pressed her hip to his. Or because of the way his lips turned up at the contact. Or the way they fit well against one another. Or because of the almost-overwhelming urge to put her head on his shoulder while she watched Eddie scamper ahead.

“You’re casting wrong!”

“I know, but
how
?”

Eddie sighed in exasperation. “I can’t tell. Maybe you’re not flicking it right?”

Vincenzo swallowed the urge to laugh. “Son, I can tell I’m not flicking it right. That’s why, so far, I’ve hooked you, the bank twice, and my own pants.”

“Don’t forget the tree!” Eddie was smiling, he could tell.

“The tree doesn’t count. That one was your fault for positioning me so close to it.”

“Sorry, sir.” He could tell the boy wasn’t sorry in the least.

Vincenzo tried again, and was rewarded with a satisfying
plop
entirely too close to the bank. He sighed. “Well, Eddie, I think it might be time for me to call it quits. I haven’t held a pole in…well, I was probably not too much older than you.”

“You’ll get it. It’s just like you told me—it’s all about practice. Here.” Vincenzo released the pole when the boy took it, but was surprised when he felt Eddie’s palm on his. “Feel that blister there? It’s not much, but it’s from fishing all last week. Soon it’ll be a callus!”

Hiding his grin at the pride in the boy’s voice, Vincenzo solemnly felt the small hands. “I can tell that you practice fishing often. Do you come here instead of helping your mother?” Mrs. Mayor was sitting on a blanket up on the hill with a book and the basket of food. He’d spent some time up there with her, starting a new book. When her voice had given out, he’d accepted Eddie’s invitation to join him by the bank. Occasionally she’d call down tips, and knowing that she was watching made Vincenzo…
lighter
, somehow.

The boy pulled his hands away, and his voice sounded distant when he answered. “She doesn’t need me much. Not many people come into the store for books. That’s why we’re renting our home to the Cutters. There’s not enough money.”

Vincenzo remembered a carefree childhood spent running between houses and around parks in Boston. Eddie might enjoy running off with his friends to fish, but it sounded like it wasn’t exactly carefree. “That’s hard for a boy your age. I’m sorry.” Eddie didn’t reply, and he resisted the urge to tilt his face uphill, to try to feel her gaze again. “Your mother could’ve asked for money in return for our appointments. I value our time together. But instead she asked me to teach you.” The boy still didn’t reply. “I value
our
time together, too, you know.”

There was a noise from the empty space beside him that could’ve been a mumble. Then the
plop
of a sinker hitting the water. Vincenzo took the hint and, shoving his hands in his pockets, tilted his face up towards the unfamiliar sun. “I’m glad to be here. I’m glad that I met you and your mother. I’m glad you came with me today.”

“You could marry her, you know.”

Stillness. Vincenzo felt his blood pumping in his ears, and had to remind himself to inhale.
You could marry her
. He couldn’t. He couldn’t marry Eddie’s mother, and not just because he was legally still married to Jane. No, he couldn’t marry her because she didn’t see his worth. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the fantasy for one brief moment. “I don’t…” He exhaled. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Eddie.”

“Why not?” The boy sounded mulish. “You like us, you said. You’re rich. Mother doesn’t think she’ll marry again, I overheard her once talking to Mrs. Carpenter. She said she’s not beautiful enough to interest a man anymore. But you…”

“I’m blind, yes.” The sun was suddenly too strong, and Vincenzo forced himself to turn towards the shade of the tree. He stumbled over a rock or root or something, but then Eddie was beside him, his hand on Vincenzo’s arm, leading him to a cool patch of grass. He gratefully sank down, his head swimming.

Eddie’s voice told him that the boy was sitting beside him. “I mean, you don’t seem to care if she’s beautiful or not. She is, by the way. But she says she’s not.” The last part was mumbled, and Vincenzo sighed.

“You’d better go get your pole before it floats away.”

“It’ll be fine.” His mother had been worried about the boy’s wild nature; it did sound like he had a stubborn streak, an insistence that he knew what was best.

“Eddie, I like you. I like your mother, but I can’t… We’re just…we’re friends, Eddie. She’s kind to me, and I hadn’t expected that.” Hadn’t expected it from someone who placed so much value on appearances, at least. “Is she looking this way?”

There was a rustle of fabric, and the boy grunted. “No.” He must’ve been looking up towards the hill. “Her back’s to us, and she’s digging through the basket. Looks like it’s almost lunchtime.” His voice got louder when he turned back. “So you can say whatever you want to about her. She says it’s not right to gossip, to talk bad about someone else, but I’m not. I don’t think she’s got a lot of friends, but she likes you. You could marry her. You could.”

Vincenzo was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say at the hopeful note in the boy’s voice. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“You could marry her, and she wouldn’t have to worry about money, and you…” He heard the boy swallow. “I could call you Stepfather, if you wanted.”

Helpless against the tide of yearning that simple offer produced, Vincenzo lowered his forehead to his drawn-up knees, and locked his fingers behind neck. He didn’t want to be here, having this conversation with this child. He didn’t want to listen to Eddie’s hopeful suggestions. He didn’t want to have to explain why he couldn’t marry the boy’s mother… when the good Lord knew that he wouldn’t mind it much at all.

“Listen, Eddie… We’re just friends. I don’t even know her name.”

“Arabella.”

He felt something in his neck
pop
when he whipped around to face the boy.
Arabella
. The casual way Eddie had said the name told him that the boy didn’t realize how life-altering it was. “What?” He felt like he was choking on the word.

“Mother’s given name is ‘Arabella’. Since you know it now, maybe you could, you know…”

The pressure building behind Vincenzo’s missing eyes was making it hard to hear, hard to breathe. “
Arabella
? That’s an unusual name.” He’d only ever heard it once before.

“My stepfather told me it meant ‘beautiful’, and that she was once the most beautiful woman in all of Boston.”

Oh God. Oh God.
“You’re from Boston?”

“Yes, sir. Are you all right? You don’t look so good.” Breathe. Breathe. There had to be more than one Arabella in Boston, didn’t there? “
Signore
?”

“My…”
My wife’s name was Arabella
. He’d called her Jane, for so many years, because of a backyard argument they’d had when he was still in short pants.

Papa says I’m going to be the most beautiful woman in the world, that’s why he named me Arabella.

I don’t believe it. I think you’re plain. Too plain. I’m going to call you Plain Jane from now on.

I hate you!

I hate you too!

But he hadn’t hated her, and had told her so a few years later, and then they’d married and he’d left her. Left her alone in Boston, where she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“
Signore
Bellini? Are you all right?”

Signore Bellini
. A lie, like the rest of his life. A lie that he wasn’t even proud of. A lie without worth, just like him. “I was just…thinking.” God, he wanted to see the boy. He wanted to stare at the features, to see if there was anything recognizable in them. He wanted to know if this, too, was a lie. “Eddie, your mother was married before?”

“Yes, sir. Twice. Don’t you remember? Are you okay?”

“And your father…” Vincenzo took a deep breath. “You were named for him?” It was a stab in the dark, but he lived his life in the darkness. And at that moment, every single fiber of his being was focused on the boy’s answer.