Glimmers (24 page)

15 June

Mr. Grant is an admirable man. He apparently understood that he did not hold my affection. In fact, he almost seemed relieved. He mentioned something about how he and his mother did not understand the timing for my recent visit to Paris. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did not question the sensibilities of the poor man. Obviously, his recent hardships have affected his sanity. I am grateful for the ease of our conversation and the end of it, for that matter.

16 June

I am going to kill Edmund! He has finally confessed to me the evil part he played in driving away Mr. Grant! Supposedly, Mr. Grant came and called upon me a few days ago. I was not home, as I was in town visiting Chelsea.

Today, however, Edmund explained to me that on the morning of Mr. Grant’s arrival that he, Edmund, decided to take it upon himself to interrogate the man. My rotten brother then lied straight faced to Mr. Grant about my whereabouts! He told him, I had traveled to Paris. Honestly, I still cannot believe the nerve of my brother!

After admitting to his foul deed, he appeared smug, adding that his suspicions about Mr. Grant were correct. Edmund had asked Mr. Grant if he was fond of traveling and what of his interest in fashion. Of course, Mr. Grant’s reaction was one of disinterest. Edmund decided that was the perfect opportunity for him to destroy any chance of Mr. Grant proposing to me. I am afraid that Mr. Grant’s reaction upon hearing the news of my reckless traveling and carefree designs for gowns turned both him and his mother sour.

I suppose that helps explain the ease with which Mr. Grant allowed me to end our relationship. Most likely, he was incredibly relieved at not having to say the words himself. I, like a fool, said the words for him. He truly is a pathetic individual, allowing me to lavish false praise on him like he did.

16 August

Although I have been in good spirits, I find the days and weeks have begun to crawl. I spend my time as I normally would, but take little pleasure in these summer months. My thoughts are consumed by Andrew and our brief time together.

I think back to our open conversations; he always seemed interested in my ideas. Although I have not seen his perfect features for two months now, they have been imprinted indelibly on my memory. When I close my eyes, I pretend he is here, walking beside me in the twilight . . .

~ * * * ~

“Are you writing in that ridiculous diary again? I consider it a complete waste of time. You should be outdoors, enjoying the splendor of the afternoon sun.” Victoria has found me hiding in the library, yet again.

“Perhaps you ought to indulge in your own advice,” I say without looking up.

“If you do not mind my saying so, you really should go easy on the sweets. If you continue stuffing your face with treats, you will easily grow to the size of a house.”

How dare my sister say such a thing to me? But when I peer over to the plate of sweeties nestled next to me, I wonder just how many of those I have eaten? Surely, they are not half gone, already.

Victoria sits beside me and peeks over at the page of my diary.

“My writing is personal,” I declare, abruptly shutting my book and hiding it from her.

“Oh please, Emma. It is not as if I am not aware of what you write or whom you write about.” She sighs and claps her hands loudly on her lap. “Come outside with me. It is a glorious day. We could take a walk into town.”

“I suppose we could visit Chelsea, especially since she has recovered from her injury.”

~ * * * ~

Victoria is correct; it does feel good to walk through the meadow and alongside the river’s edge, its water lapping the bank. The air is fresh, and I am reminded of freshly washed white cotton linens.

I have taken to walking with a wooden stick. My hand involuntarily swings it from side-to-side, cutting through tall grass. It makes a swishing sound as it breaks across the blades.

Town is very near, and Victoria unrelentingly fills my lack of conversation with her lighthearted tales. She has trouble keeping my attention, as I notice how idly the baker’s sign is influenced by the wind. It swings back and forth on the metal rod. Its movement is melodic, and I am captivated.

Hmm, that man sitting over by that statue resembles Andrew from behind. I wish he were here. As Victoria and I walk by, the man turns and smiles . . . . Wait, it is Andrew! Victoria nudges into me and giggles.

“Is it really him?” I say, staring wide-eyed at the man.

“Yes, you silly girl, it is Andrew! Now, go to him,” Victoria replies, but all I can do is look at her. “Emma, it was meant to be a surprise. Only, I did not expect for you to appear so completely startled.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. When I reopen my eyes, I see that it is in fact Andrew. I cannot believe he is actually here! I feel giddy at his sudden arrival and am overcome with laughter.

I race toward him. My feet barely even touch the ground. His pace quickens too, and we meet in the middle of the town square. At last, we reach each other. I am so overcome with elation I literally throw myself into his arms! He lifts me into the air and spins around madly! I can feel my dress take to air, but I do not mind the spectacle. At this moment, all that matters is that he is here!

“You have returned!” I say enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, I have returned,” he says, placing his forehead affectionately to mine. “I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. I do not wish to be apart from you, ever again. You have affected my life in ways I never imagined possible. I do not expect for you to understand.”

“I understand completely!” I say, with a silly expression plastered to my face.

A flock of small children at play forces us to step back.

“When I was home," Andrew resumes, "I discovered the most unique little building right in the heart of town. The owner informed me it was damaged a little in one of Charleston’s most recent fires. I looked inside to see how much repair it required. The damage is merely superficial.”

“I do not understand your reason for informing me of this,” I say, shaking my head in bewilderment.

“I signed the deed just last week. I would like to transform the place into a clothing establishment. I will be in need of a top designer to help me with the fashions for its inventory.”

“Andrew, what exactly are you saying? You just told me you did not want to leave me. This does not make sense. Are you returning home already?”

“I am good at expressing my opinions but terrible at expressing my emotions,” he sighs and runs his hand through his glorious hair. “I am asking you if you would please join me on my return home . . . as my wife.” He smiles, and I believe I can see a faint mist within his eyes.

I bounce like a little girl and again throw myself into his arms. I can hear a muffled laughter come from him.

“I hope this means you accept my offer,” he says.

“Of course, yes! This time, I would not be so willing to allow you to sail across the sea without my being there to accompany you,” I say in earnest.

“Emma,” He catches his breath before continuing, “I love you and promise I always shall.”

Paige, Wednesday

Dressing Table

I realize I am staring at
my
reflection in the mirror and am overcome with emotion. I can still feel Emma’s love and joy.

Why am I not more like Edmund? I should support Hailey to do what will make
her
happy, not what I perceive to be responsible. She should marry for true love, not practicality. I feel wretched. My behavior has been horrible.

Suddenly, another memory sweeps over me, and I begin to search under the table. I root around and find another hidden compartment. I slide my hand into the space and can feel a dry piece of paper. Carefully, I pull out the yellowed and faded letter.

Gently, I unfold it and read out loud, “My Dear Little Sweetie.”

Desperately, I reach for my cell and punch in Hailey’s number. The phone rings over and over. “Come on Hailey, answer it!” I say, but she doesn’t, and it rings some more.

I’m sure she’s ignoring me, not that I’m not surprised. I didn’t exactly play the part of the understanding sister. If I were Hailey, I would ignore my calls, too.

“Where are my keys?” I reach for my purse and fumble around.

Elliott peers into the room and asks hesitantly, “Everything all right?”

“No!” I say and walk past him.

“Where are you going? It’s after 10:00 at night.” He follows me into the kitchen, watching my actions intently. “Paige, what are you doing?”

“I have to see Hailey. I’ll explain everything to you later,” I say, giving him a little kiss and gently rubbing my hand over his stubbly chin. “Love you. I’ll be home in a bit.”

~ * * * ~

“Her car isn’t here!” I exclaim in frustration, as I drive in circles around my sister’s carport.

Once more, I call Hailey. When she doesn’t answer, I head directly towards Julian’s place. For some reason, I know exactly where he lives. In fact, my car practically drives itself there, all on its own.

When I reach Julian’s condo, I see a shiny black sports car off in the distance. I think it’s her car! I was right, Hailey must be here! In relief, I pull into a spot and head for the elevators. I have no idea what I’m going to say. Maybe some divine inspiration will come to me.

Even if I flub this up, at least she will know I support her and am here to help. That’s what sisters do for each other, right? I am aware these are not the actions of a rational person, however, after what has just happened, I am not thinking like a rational person.

The elevator doors open, and I stare down the hall. It’s uncanny, I’ve never actually been here, but I recognize almost every detail: the intricate travertine floors, exotic wood paneling, and vibrant abstract paintings. The last painting stops me in my tracks, and I realize it is Hailey’s favorite. This is really strange, I’m thinking, as I continue walking towards Julian’s door. I can hear the sound of my boots resonating down the hall.

I take in a deep breath and contemplate my next move. I don’t have one. I suppose I’ll just wing it. Come on Paige, just one knock and face your fears. I stare at the wooden door with my hand suspended in air, frozen. Maybe this is a not such a great idea. Probably best if I return home.

I turn to leave, when suddenly, the door whisks open. Julian is standing there. He is half dressed, has one hand on the door and the other running through the back of his hair. He looks totally confused.

“You’re not Hailey,” he says with great disappointment.

“No, I guess I'm not. As a matter of fact, I was looking for her. I don’t suppose she’s here?” I ask, and my voice is shaky.

“You’re her sister, Paige,” he says, not really answering my question.

“Yes, I am,” I say nervously biting my lip. This is so awkward.

“Your sister said she never wanted to see me again,” he says, shaking his head. “I heard your footsteps and hoped she changed her mind.”

“She left you?” I say unbelievingly and feel a slight twinge of guilt.

“Do you mind coming in? I don’t want to wake up my neighbors.”

Julian’s place is nicely decorated, but a complete mess. Actually, Julian’s a complete mess. I’m trying to explain that Hailey does love him and just needs time to think, but I doubt there is anything I can say to make him feel better. Poor guy, he’s just sitting there with his head hanging down and his body slumping towards the floor.