The Icing on the Cake (21 page)

Yeah, because he was with me
.

“No problem,” I replied, forcing a smile.

“I’m gonna go do weights now,” Rona said. “Call me no later than tonight about the caterer.”

“All right,” I agreed weakly.

A trail of turning heads followed Rona into the weight room.

I put my ear back to the phone. I wanted to ask Isaac what in the Sam Hill was going on. That’s a real saying, right? I think I heard Mom say it once. Anyway, I wanted to ask Isaac that. But with our relationship nearing the kiss stage, I didn’t want to mess with a good thing. Of course, my intentions not to mess were one thing. My mouth was an entirely different thing. “What are you and Rona doing today?” I blurted into the phone.

“I’m not quite sure,” Isaac said slowly.

“How can you not know?” I said, trying very, very hard to keep my tone light.

“Because Rona never really said.”

“Oh,” I said stiffly.

“Is something wrong, Annabelle?” Isaac asked.

“Nothing you did,” I muttered. I find that if you say this, most guys drop the subject.

Of course, Isaac isn’t like most guys. “Then what is it?” he asked.

“There’s this girl,” I admitted. “For some reason, she’s always had something against me. And she’s giving me grief.”

I waited for Isaac to put the pieces together. I figured his train of thought should go something like this: I was talking to Annabelle. Then I talked to Rona. Rona giggled uncontrollably and irritatingly the whole time. Then I got back on the phone with Annabelle and explained to her that I was doing something with Rona and had no idea what it was. Then Annabelle seemed upset and started talking about some girl who was giving her grief. So that must mean Rona is the one giving Annabelle grief. And that I shouldn’t do anything with her or any other girl ever again but should marry Annabelle and . . .

But Isaac didn’t quite put the pieces together. “I’m sorry,” he said. For a second, I admired that Isaac seemed to be completely guileless. But after that second, I couldn’t help thinking,
Oh come on!

“It’ll work out,” I said, giving up on the whole thing. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“All right. Let’s talk about what you’re doing tonight. I really want to see you.”

“I have plans with Carrie,” I told Isaac. Miles had to work late, so Carrie and I were actually going to be able to have Paint and Popcorn night. “But maybe we could have an early dinner?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I have no idea how long this thing with Rona is going to take.”

I forced myself to breathe deeply. I needed to believe that what was meant to be would be. I needed to believe that Isaac really did care about me, like he was acting like he did, and he wouldn’t just drop me for Rona Bircheck. “Okay,” I said weakly. “I guess I’ll see you at the piano recital tomorrow then.”

“Yeah. But hey, come to think of it, maybe you could help us set up for the recital. We’ll probably start at about four o’clock. If you come early, that means I’ll get to spend three extra hours with you.”

I smiled into the phone even though Isaac couldn’t see me. “That sounds nice. I get off work at five, so I can help after that.”

“Great. And after the recital we can do something,” Isaac said. I was almost sure that I could hear some “such as finally manage our first kiss” undertones in his voice.

“That sounds wonderful,” I breathed, feeling an ache at the thought of not seeing Isaac until the next day.

“All right, then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Isaac said.

“See you tomorrow,” I echoed.

Of course, little did I know, I wasn’t going to have to wait that long to see Isaac.

Patrique led me into the cement-floored fairgrounds building, which smelled like animal feed. Just inside the doors, I noticed a sign that said Fine Visual Art in block letters.

“Wow,” I said, surveying the place as we stepped inside.

Large eggshell-colored partitions were placed strategically on the open floor, displaying oil paintings, watercolors, and photographs. Also dotting the floor were wooden pedestals on which were displayed sculptures of everything from seagulls to bicycles. Obviously a lot of preparation had gone into the festival, and a lot of talented artists had come to exhibit their work.

“I see Tempest over there.” Patrique unbuttoned the two top buttons of his silk shirt. “She’s showing some of her things here today. I’ll be right back.”

I gave Patrique a weak wave and began slowly walking the perimeter of the building. I had just finished admiring a group of gorgeous oil paintings of various seascapes and was looking at a sculpture of a sea lion when the sound of something behind me caught my attention. It was a giggle. A giggle that sounded oddly familiar. I turned around, looking in the direction of the sound.

And then I saw them.

Rona and Isaac. Standing next to some photos that looked like the ones I had seen in Ethan’s piano studio. I gasped and quickly ducked behind the sea lion sculpture. The solid wood stand was just tall and wide enough to conceal my crouched body as the sea lion perched atop it hid my face.

So this is where you two were going today
, I thought.

I watched. My eyes narrowed. “Now I can see just what you’re up to, Rona,” I whispered, almost scaring myself with how much I sounded like a witch from a Disney movie. “And I can see how Isaac reacts to it.”

Soon, a woman, probably in her fifties, with long, graying hair and a multi-colored crepe dress appeared at my side. “Trying to get a better look?” she asked in a kind, soft voice.

“Uh, yeah” I said, my voice strained due to the unnatural position of my body.

“This one took me a year to finish,” the woman said, her voice filled with nostalgia. “I found a group of naturalists who were studying a sea lion they called Arnie. I studied alongside the group. When I finished the sculpture I just knew I had to name the sculpture after Arnie.” The woman pointed to a plaque attached to the front of the pedestal which read
Arnie of the Sea
.

“Oh, so you made this?” I asked, still crouching.

“Yes,” the woman answered. “Viola Waters,” she added, introducing herself.

“Good to meet you. It’s lovely.” When I didn’t stand up to talk to the woman like any normal person would have, she looked at me curiously.

Just then I saw Rona put her hand on Isaac’s arm. I immediately clenched my fists.

“You’re looking at the whiskers, aren’t you?” Viola asked. I had forgotten she was standing there.

“Um . . .” I muttered as I counted the seconds that Rona’s hand was on Isaac’s arm. Three. Four. Five. Six. Could she be any more of a floozy?

“They were by far the hardest part of the sculpture,” Viola said.

“Finally,” I mumbled when Rona removed her rotten little hand from Isaac’s arm.

“I’m sorry?” Viola asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Are you interested in buying the sculpture?” Viola asked, a wrinkle of confusion in her brow.

“I don’t think so,” I answered, watching as Rona began giggling.

Viola turned to walk away. “Okay. Enjoy looking.”

Moments after Viola had left my side, I noticed that my back was aching. I kept a close eye on Isaac and Rona as I stepped about three feet to the left where I concealed myself behind a tall partition and tried to un-kink my back. I was about to return to my hiding spot so I didn’t miss a second of spying, when Patrique approached me with a pale-looking, dressed-in-black Tempest by his side.

“Hi, my dear,” Patrique said to me.

Ignoring the “my dear,” I replied with a flat “Hi.”

“Hi, Anna Lou,” Tempest addressed me.

“Hello,” I said, not bothering to correct her.

“Patrique tells me you work for
Central Coast Living
,” Tempest said.

“Yeah,” I replied quickly. I needed to get the conversation over so I could get back to watching Isaac and Rona. Anything could be happening between them while I was stuck behind that partition.

“I’ve been thinking about running an ad in there for my online business,” Tempest said.

“Oh, okay, I can give you the marketing director’s number, if you’d like,” I responded, my words brisk.

“Do you have it now?” Tempest asked.

“I need to move,” I said senselessly as I moved back over to the sea lion sculpture and ducked behind it again. Tempest and Patrique watched me, bemused looks on their faces.

Back in my spot, I noticed Rona gesturing what looked like a good-bye to Isaac. Then it looked almost like she was going to hug him, but he quickly offered her his hand to shake. I sighed heavily in relief. Rona began walking away from Isaac, and I felt hope rising inside of me. But a few feet away from the exit, she stopped short and turned back around.

“What are you doing? I was asking you a question,” Tempest said as she moved closer to me, looking at me as if I were vermin.

“I . . . I really like this sculpture,” I replied as I watched Rona talk to Isaac, keeping a close eye on the position of her hands the whole time.

“Well, that’s great. But I was talking to you. Can I get that number from you?”

“What? What number?” I looked up at Tempest confusedly for a second.

“The marketing director’s number,” Tempest said slowly, as if talking to a child.

“Oh, I don’t have it right now. I’ll have to get it to you later.” I turned my eyes back to Isaac and Rona.

Tempest looked at me like I was the most useless creature on the planet.

Patrique moved to my side. “Annabelle, why don’t you give me the number and I could get it to Tempest,” he suggested.

“All right,” I replied. I was so distracted with spying that I probably would have agreed to just about anything.

“I’ll call you,” Patrique said to Tempest.

Tempest said a few things back to Patrique, but I wasn’t listening because Rona finally made her way to the exit and left the building.

After Rona had gone, a man in an olive-colored suit approached Isaac. The man and Isaac began talking, and as I watched Isaac my mind conjured up a daydream.

In the dream, I was the one talking to Isaac. He was explaining to me that he couldn’t wait one more second to kiss me. So he took me in his arms and kissed me deliciously.

Then Rona came back because she had forgotten her handbag, and she saw the whole thing. Her entire face turned red, and she walked off in a huff that Isaac of course didn’t notice because he was too busy confessing his undying love for me.

Then Isaac asked me to marry him and put a huge ring on my finger. Everyone in the fairgrounds building clapped, and some women cried at how moving the proposal was.

We got married and bought a house in Carmel and had two girls, three boys, and a beautiful thoroughbred horse named Snickers—after my second favorite candy bar, since I don’t think Milk Dud would be a very good name for a horse.

“You know, you two really are perfect for each other,” Tempest’s edgy voice came into my ears.

“I know,” I said dreamily.

Tempest shook her head at me and walked away dramatically.

It only took me a second to snap back to reality and realize that Tempest was referring to me and Patrique. “Wait!” I cried out in utter disgust at the thought. “What I meant was—”

Patrique shushed me. “Don’t ruin it! She really thinks we’re a couple. And it’s getting to her, I can tell.” He gave me the weirdest, creepiest look and added, “I can’t believe you did that for me.” Then before I knew what was going on, he had pulled me up from my crouched position and was hugging me in a not-quite-platonic way.

The shock of it all made me momentarily frozen. But when sensation returned to my limbs, I pushed Patrique away forcefully, looking in Isaac’s direction, making sure he hadn’t seen. I didn’t want him jumping to any conclusions.

Little did I know, the forceful push I gave Patrique was about to cost me a pretty penny.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Patrique’s body slamming into the pedestal. The pedestal wobbling from side to side and then toppling over.
Arnie of the Sea
falling, heading straight for the ground.

Suddenly Viola came out of nowhere, she too appearing to be in slow motion. She threw her body under the sculpture and cried out, “Arnie!” And all of a sudden, as if some sort of crazy adrenaline had taken over, she extended her arms above her head bench-press style and caught Arnie in the air—and let me tell you, that sea lion looked pretty heavy. The pedestal made a loud bang on the cement floor just beside Viola. Heads turned, and the whole building seemed to become silent.

My mouth dropped open, and I blinked slowly.

Patrique and a female bystander in a very tight dress reached down to help Viola off the ground. The bystander and Patrique then picked the wooden stand up from the floor and set it upright. Viola placed the sculpture atop the slightly cracked wood, her hands shaking.