Imagine That (16 page)

“How were you wrong?”

Emily finally regarded him. “We were all about to leave. I went to the kitchen for some water and when I came back I happened to catch a glimpse of Colin and Charlotte in the mirror. He was helping her put her coat on and then he straightened the collar.”

“Her collar.”

“I know it sounds silly, but if you had seen his expression, you'd understand,” she said. “When they looked at each other, it was like they were both discovering something wonderful and precious. Colin had never looked at
me
like I was precious.”

Nate realized he'd been gripping his own spoon tight enough to cut off his circulation. He dropped the utensil. “They had an affair?”

“Nothing so sordid. I actually made it easy for them. On the drive home I asked Colin what he'd thought of my family.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, he loved everyone. He mentioned how much he'd liked talking books with my parents and debating the merits of Hemingway versus the great European writers. How my brother's wife was so charming and sweet. In fact, he mentioned everyone except Charlotte. So I did. I came right out and said, “Charlotte is pretty special, isn't she?”

Nate had the feeling he'd fallen into a real-life soap opera. “What happened?” he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“He didn't say anything right away, but I could see his jaw tighten. So I asked again, and finally he answered
yes
. It was all I needed. I knew our relationship was over. It had been the moment we sat down at the dining room table. I stayed at a hotel that night.”

Nate's heart ached for her. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the man she loved to fall for her sister. “Did you ever see him again?”

“Of course. He and Charlotte married.”

Nate reared back as if he'd been shot. “What?”

“Seems crazy, right?”

“Not crazy. I can't believe your sister would be so cruel.”

“Why shouldn't she be happy with Colin? After all, it wasn't like he'd ever loved me. He couldn't have, if he'd fallen for Charlotte so quickly. I'd get over it.”

Emily had made the whole statement without a trace of emotion in her voice, but her expression reflected utter devastation.

“Why does that sound like someone's quote?” Nate asked.

“You're good at recognizing my mother's helpful advice.” Emily's lips tilted up in a ghost of a smile, but her eyes remained dead. “She called me the next day. She'd seen the same thing I had. Probably realized the truth the moment Colin and Charlotte first passed the butter. My mother said there was no use standing in the way when anyone could see Colin and I weren't right for each other. I could be selfish and hinder their destiny, or I could act like an adult for once and do the right thing for everyone.”

“Which was to give the Professor and Charlotte your complete blessing?”

“Pretty much.”

He wanted to throw the iron chair across the street. “And no one cared how you felt?”

“Oh, Charlotte did. Colin felt bad, too. They hadn't planned on falling in love. I did ask them to at least wait a few months, but it ended up only being a couple weeks. He took Charlotte to the department holiday party.”

“So, you were expected to be happy for them and pretend nothing was wrong? I have to ask, but what kind of family did you come from? I'd rather tear off my right arm than take a girl my brother loved. And your mother expecting you to be fine with it is completely warped.”

Emily shrugged. “My mother expects a lot of things from me. I usually fall well short of those expectations.”

“What did you do? Just go on like life was normal?”

“I tried. I started my second book. At first I was grateful to have my writing because it allowed me to ignore all the wedding preparations going on. Then I realized something was wrong. I struggled so hard with the book. The hardest time I've ever had. I'd gotten stuck before, but I'd always managed to write myself out of the hole. With
Sword of the Dark
I kept hitting roadblocks, and I couldn't find my way around them.”

Nate snorted. “Well, no wonder. You were nursing a broken heart. Your boyfriend and your sister had betrayed you, and your entire family sanctioned the thing as if it was a blessed union. I bet they made you stand up in the wedding as a bridesmaid.”

“She didn't have bridesmaids or anything. A simple ceremony in front of a justice of the peace.”

“Which I'm sure you were expected to attend.”

“How could I not go? I had to prove everything was fine. Except it was anything but fine. My heart had been smashed, and then my career started going off the rails.
Sword of the Dark
received a lot of bad reviews.”

“Why didn't people like it?”

“People didn't connect with my heroine. They said she was unlikable. She didn't act like a heroine, but a victim.”

“You wrote a heroine who wouldn't fight back,” Nate said.

A bitter laugh emerged. “Yeah, talk about projecting.”

“I can understand why your personal drama drifted into your fantasy life. Did you connect the two things?”

“Not for a long time. I guess I didn't want to see the truth, but then everything caved in again.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair, biting her lip as tears began coasting down her cheek. “About seven months ago, Charlotte told me she was pregnant.”

Yet another blow to knock her down. “Is that when the characters in your head went away?”

She took a shuddering breath and nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“So your travels have been more about escaping the pain of their betrayal than looking for a way to restart your imagination.”

“I don't know. Maybe.” She lurched up from the table. “Listen, I have to go.”

He rose from his chair. “Em… I'll walk you back.”

“No. I just need — it's too much right now.”

Emily fled up the street before Nate could move. He watched her run away and fought the urge to take off after her. And wondered how she'd ever recover from the deep wound carved there by people who should have taken care of her.

Nate hoped she'd find a way, except he feared the healing would mean the end of her journey. And her time in Covington Falls.

Afternoon sun beat down on Emily's back like a thousand hot pokers, baking the skin underneath her shirt. She sat up on her heels and swiped an arm across her forehead. The temperature must have risen another ten degrees while she'd been out here. Reaching for the thermos by her knee, she took several gulps of cold water.

Summer in Georgia was no time for gardening. Who decided to garden in the middle of a heat wave?

Oh yeah, Aurora Johnston. Of course, Madam was not actually doing any of the gardening. Although, pulling weeds probably didn't constitute gardening so much as getting dirty and ripping one's fingernails to shreds. Her Highness wanted the flower beds cleared, though, and it was off with Emily's head if she refused.

If not for the scalding heat, Emily might not have minded the task. Ripping up the earth helped clear her head. She'd barely made it back to her car yesterday before breaking down. She'd cried for hours, until her eyes swelled shut and her chest ached as if bruised.

How could she still feel so devastated? A lot of time had gone by. She should be done with tears and angst. Julia's wedding had ripped open the scab again, leaving even more hurt, so obviously the months of travel had done nothing to help Emily solve the problem of her imagination.

Her eyes burned with a mixture of sweat and tears.

“Stop it, Emily Jane.”

She was so tired of crying and feeling sorry for herself. If Browmenia from
Sword of the Dark
was half as pathetic as the woman who'd created her, it was no wonder readers had hated her.

Emily gripped a chunk of weeds and yanked the stubborn growth with enough force to topple her over onto her butt. She pounded the ground and contemplated pitching a fit like a two year old denied a piece of candy.

Something pinched her hand and she yelped again. A big, hairy, brown, gross spider had taken up residence on her thumb. Shrieking, Emily shook her hand to dislodge the creature. She hated spiders. Creepy, nasty, evil-looking things. Anything with more than four legs had to be suspect.

She dumped water on her hand to ease the sting. Watch, with her luck, Harry-Eight-Legs would turn out to be poisonous.

“If I wind up in the hospital with gangrene, I'm quitting.”

She went back to clearing the plot of garden, determined to finish the job. Wouldn't Nate laugh to know she couldn't even handle pulling weeds?

Warmth spread through her. He'd been so sweet yesterday. She'd never told anyone about Colin. Never had anyone to tell. She couldn't talk to her family. Not when she was supposed to be over the whole incident by now. She had to admit it was nice having someone on her side, to defend her. Her skin heated until her whole body tingled and sweat broke out all over.

Come to think of it, the tingling seemed more centered in her arm and especially her hand.

A hand that had swelled to twice its no
rmal size in just a few minutes.

She touched her thumb and gasped at the intense heat. The area had grown inflamed, and she could no longer make a fist.

Bile rose in her throat, and a wave of dizziness struck. Good grief, was she dying? Did Georgia have killer spiders? Why hadn't anyone mentioned marauding arachnids in the area? She stood and swayed on her feet. Were her nerves being affected already? How much longer did she have? Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on making it to the house.

She ran into the living room, where old lady Johnston was ensconced in her chair reading a magazine. “Aurora! Aurora, you have to help me!”

The elderly woman didn't react to the edge of panic in Emily's voice. “What are you screaming about now?”

“A spider bit me. I've been poisoned.”

“Poisoned? Don't be ridiculous. What kind of spider was it?”

“How should I know? It was brown and hairy and had eight legs. My arm is all swelled up, and I feel sick. I think my throat is closing. I have to go.”

Aurora rose from her chair. “For heaven's sake, you can't drive. You'll run off the road.” She picked up her bell and shook it. “Hortense! Come here immediately!”

The housekeeper huffed into the room. “What's going on, Miz Johnston? You sick?”

“No, but Emily is. She's been bitten by a spider.”

“Hope it wasn't a brown recluse,” Hortense said, crossing herself.

Emily moaned as another wave of dizziness hit. “Why not?”

“Them spiders can be deadly.”

“Deadly! Sugar cookies! All I wanted was something to do to pass the time and make a few extra dollars. Now I'm gonna die from pulling dead grass.”

The housekeeper clicked her tongue. “Weeds aren't grass, and they aren't dead.”

Aurora banged her cane against the floor. “Hortense…
focus
! I need you to drive Emily to the ER. She can't get behind the wheel in her condition.”

“Oh, right, ma'am. Come on, Miss Emily. Let's get you to the doctors before it's too late.”

Emily shuddered. “Too late!”

“Hortense, stop being so melodramatic,” Aurora said. “You'll scare Emily to death from your caterwauling before any silly spider can do away with her. Go now!”

Despite Hortense's bum knees, the woman drove like a NASCAR driver in the last lap of the Indy 500. Emily clung to the door handle, wondering if she'd die from a spider bite or a car crash. Either one would make a terrific headline.

Failed Child Author Bites
t
he Big One
i
n 1982 Cadillac Deville.
Cause of Death
:
Sheer Stupidity.

Hortense came to a screeching halt in front of the ER and jumped out of the car. “Help her!” she screamed. “She's been bitten by a deadly spider. She's dying.”

Emily hauled herself out of the vehicle using her good arm. “Can we hold off pronouncing a death sentence just yet, please?”

Hortense wrapped an arm around Emily and half dragged, half carried her into the waiting room. Emily concluded the whole knee complaint had to be a fake so Hortense could get out of cleaning Aurora's house.

“Will someone help this lady?” Hortense cried. “She's a world-famous author. Her hand looks like a balloon. She could lose her whole arm!”

“Please stop lopping off my body parts,” Emily said. “I knew I should have driven myself.”

“Em?”

A burst of hysterical laughter bubbled up. Of course Nate was here.

He ambled over with his usual confident stride. “What have you done now?”

“I was pulling weeds—”

“She's been bitten by a brown recluse,” Hortense broke in. “Miss Emily's gonna die any second if she doesn't see the doctor right now.”

Nate's lips trembled as he tried not to laugh. “That's pretty rare, Hortense. They don't even come out in the daytime.”

“Well, just look at it,” Hortense said, shoving Emily's hand under his nose. “Does that look normal to you?”

Agony shot up Emily's arm, and a strange buzzing started in her ear. The world started to go dark. “Guys, I think I need to sit…”

“Emily!”

The next thing she knew, a bright light was shining in her eyes. She groaned.

“That's good,” a deep, male voice said. “Come on back, Miss Sinclair. Time to wake up.”

She peeled her lids open. A nice, older gentleman stood over her. He wore a lab coat, so she figured he had to be a medical person of some sort. Unless everyone in the afterlife was a doctor.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“I'm Doctor Gentry, and you're still in the hospital.” He pointed back behind her. “Nathan over there carried you back after you passed out.”

She swiveled her head around and spotted Nate waiting in the hallway. Before she could think about the wisdom of the act, she held out her hand. He pushed away from wall and came forward.

He leaned down and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Please don't ever do that again.”

She shivered as his fingers brushed across her neck.

“Miss Emily!” Hortense cried as she pushed into the room. “You're not dead!”

“Hortense, you're going to work yourself into a heart attack if you don't calm down,” Dr. Gentry said. “I need both of you to leave so I can examine my patient.”

Nate squeezed her hand. “Talk to you later,” he said, before taking Hortense by the elbow and escorting her from the room.

Emily's gaze never left doctor. “Okay, Doc, tell me the truth. Am I going to die?”

He chuckled. “I don't think so.”

“Are you sure? My hand really hurts.”

“Do you remember what the spider looked like?” the doctor asked as he picked up her hand and felt around the area where she'd been bitten. “Any unique markings?”

“I was too busy flinging it off to pay attention to unique markings. It didn't have a skull-and-crossbones stamped across its back, in any case.”

“No?” The doctor smiled, and laugh lines appeared around his twinkling eyes. “God should have been more specific about identifying deadly spiders.”

Emily shuddered. “Please don't say deadly.”

“Right.” Dr. Gentry probed the wound again, making her wince. “Sorry. You've got some swelling and obvious tenderness. No poison though.”

“Hortense said something about a brown recluse?”

“Oh, you'd be a lot worse off if you'd been bitten by one of those. I think you had an allergic reaction. You might have been in some trouble if you'd waited to come in. Some people think they can ride out the discomfort after a bite. Put some antiseptic on it and you're good, but spider bites can become infected and cause all sorts of problems.”

“But the dizziness and the fever? I swear I thought my heart might stop.”

“Plain old panic, no doubt caused by Hortense's hysteria. No, you should be all right. I'll have the nurse clean this up, and I'll write you a prescription for the pain, if you need it. I'd like to see you in a week, but if the swelling gets worse I want you to come back.”

“Okay.”

When the nurse finished with her, Emily walked out to the waiting room, but she didn't see the broad shoulders and gray eyes she wanted. He'd left then. She swallowed her disappointment, even as she told herself to get over it. So what if Nate hadn't waited? He was a busy man.

Still, he could have waited a few minutes.

“Miss Emily, there you are!”

Hortense was still here at least.

“Hi,” Emily said.

“Oh, child, you surely did give us a scare. That nice young man was near frantic when you dropped like you did. Carried you right into the exam room, bellowing somethin' fierce.”

“He did?”

“Oh, yes. Now me, I wouldn't mind a man like Nate Cooper carrying me about. You've got yourself a nice beau there.”

“He's not my boyfriend.”

Hortense stopped. “No? Well, I still say he's sweet on you. Lucky girl.”

They picked up Emily's prescription at the hospital pharmacy, and then she waited while Hortense went to fetch the car. Once ensconced in the passenger seat, Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes, exhausted from the day's drama.

Back at the house, Hortense helped Emily inside.

Aurora was pacing in the foyer. “It's about time. How long could one spider bite take, I ask you?”

“Miss Emily went uncurious,” Hortense said.

Bemusement stopped Aurora's tirade. “She what?”

“Unconscious,” Emily corrected. “I passed out in the ER.”

Aurora took a breath. “Oh. What about the bite?”

“Just a bad reaction,” Emily said. “Not poisonous.”

“I told you.”

“Yes, you did. Listen, if you don't mind I'd like to go home now. I'm wiped out.”

For once, Aurora didn't argue. In fact, she softened enough to ask. “Will you be all right driving yourself?”

Hortense stepped forward. “I'll be happy to take you—”

“No!” Emily blurted out, thinking of the death defying trip to the ER. Hortense frowned as hurt clouded her brown eyes, and Emily backpedaled. “I mean, I wouldn't want to take you away from your duties any longer. I can manage.”