Authors: Nancy Frederick
"After you made all those plans.
The caterer.
The Woman's Club."
"Thank goodness I didn't put down a deposit on a dress.
Think we could have the wedding here--cheap I mean.
I could get a dress that's not bad at that place downtown."
Annabeth nodded, "We could do it."
Her blue eyes turned steely then, "But we're not going to.
Where's that list of everything?"
Sally pulled the list from her bag and handed it over.
"I don't know what we were thinking.
Daddy's idea to have a dinner buffet.
Flowers.
A cake.
Oh it's all so expensive.
What if we just had the family here?
I don't even need a wedding gown.
Just a waste of money."
Annabeth pressed her hand over her daughter's.
"This is what we're going to do.
You've already given a deposit on the Woman's Club, right?"
Sally nodded miserably.
"Maybe they'll give it back."
"And the caterer?"
"It's due this week.
They reserved the time for me, but I haven't paid yet."
"You take that money and pay off the Women's Club and give the caterer the deposit we discussed.
I'll cover the difference.
And New Year's Day we'll drive to New Orleans.
I have someone to see there anyway, and we can stay with Laurel for a few days.
We'll find you a nice gown there.
And I can get some new clothes too.
Everything I own is way too big now."
Annabeth continued as Sally's mouth hung open watching her act so determined, so in charge.
"I wish we could go sooner, but I have to be here for New Year's Eve."
"But Mom, you don't have any money.
I can't let you do that."
"I have plenty of money.
You're going to have a nice wedding."
"Maybe I could pay you back over time."
Annabeth squeezed Sally's hand.
"Don't be silly.
Now--is there anything else?
I want to finish that attic."
Sally leapt up and hugged Annabeth tightly.
"Thanks, Mom.
You're the best."
Annabeth walked Sally to the door.
It was still pouring, but there was no sign of lightning.
"Drive carefully," she admonished, hugging Sally once again.
Her daughter gone, Annabeth once more climbed the stairs to the attic. The rain pounded against the roof, but there were no leaks.
The sound was strong but pleasant and the rhythms of the falling raindrops soothed Annabeth.
Glancing out the tiny window below the eaves, Annabeth watched the rain dance against the panes of glass for a long moment before turning back to the attic.
Instead of launching right into her work, she stopped and surveyed the scene.
It was nearly clean.
There was nothing there she didn't know about, and nothing she didn't need or want.
The debris was gone.
A big black garbage bag sat in an empty corner.
It contained only a few things, ancient maps belonging to R.J. and old diet books of hers.
Annabeth walked through the room.
It was orderly.
In it now were the treasures of the past, nothing she needed on a daily basis, yet nothing that should be discarded.
It was a good feeling.
She had tackled a mammoth task and had succeeded.
Annabeth walked to the huge table that now was no longer covered over with boxes.
She'd painted that the first year they'd been in the house.
But for one dent, its surface was smooth to her hand, the colors as vivid as ever, the designs as perfect as when she'd first created them.
Her eyes followed the designs, the swirls of color melting together as visions and sounds from the past rose up around her.
"Ma's buyin' us a table, a real table so we don't gotta use that ratty old thing."
R.J. talking, scowling, "Save this thing?
Looks like something a kid did."
R.J. slamming his beer down on the table she'd just finished, making a dent in the top.
"If only you were perfectly thin, like I am," her mother talking.
"I need," Julie whining.
"Pay attention to me," R.J. demanding.
"Nothing to fall back on," her father ignoring her.
"I want," Maggie taking.
R.J. demanding, cheating on her, being loved, not giving back.
Not a great lover, not much of a husband, nobody much at all.
Again and again the memories unfolded in her mind, tiny visions of scenes long past, emotions, still captured in her heart.
And as the scenes played out for one last time, the emotions emerged and Annabeth released them forever.
"I've been giving and sacrificing all my life.
It's time I took care of myself."
She stood quietly for a long time, thinking of what she'd said aloud to the empty room.
Why had she loved R.J. so much?
And then the realization hit her.
It wasn't because of R.J. that she'd loved him so, it was because of her, because that was the way she loved.
It said more about her than about him.
She was a loving person; she gave, and now it was time she gave some to herself.
And to people that deserved it, like the girls, like….
Life with R.J….so many excuses, year after year, loving and giving and starving with R.J..
Annabeth held her hand to her throat, and she felt the tiny diamonds nestled there, then spoke once more, "R.J. was never good enough for me.
I deserve better."
A rush like the wind from a thousand storms emerged from her heart, the truth, mingled with relief and self-awareness surged through her and at last Annabeth was in touch with everything that she had done, all she had lived, the people in her life and the life she had built when she was unaware of all the things she should have known, until this very moment.
Glancing once more out the tiny window, Annabeth noted that the rain had stopped.
A few drops left on the glass rolled down its slick surface and gathered in a glistening pool of water on the ground below.
Turning for the last time to the attic, Annabeth nodded.
"Good job," she said.
In one hand she grasped the garbage bag and in the other the metal filing box, and walking confidently, she moved out the door and all the way down the stairs to her comfortable kitchen.
The phone book was propped on a corner of the counter and Annabeth reached for it, flipped it open, easily located the number and dialed.
"Hello?
I want to make an appointment, please."
She paused a moment, then replied to the question asked of her.
"Divorce investigation."
She nodded although nobody could see her.
"Perfect," she agreed, "I'll see you in fifteen minutes."
Removing the pertinent documents from the filing box, Annabeth stashed them in her purse, grasped the bag of garbage, which she dropped in the can by her house, then drove downtown to the detective's office.
It was a one room affair, neat and brightly lit, with a desk, a chair, a huge filing cabinet, even a jar of candy on the desk.
"Looks nothing like a Bogart movie, does it?" asked Herb Midwood, smiling to put Annabeth at ease.
He was a medium-sized man of about fifty, and his hair was thinning.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses, but behind them his eyes were shrewd and clear.
"I found these papers in my attic.
I think my husband lied on the financial statement he handed in to the judge.
And maybe even on our taxes.
Could I get in trouble for that?"
Herb reach for the documents, then held up two hands in a calming gesture.
"Let's go over all the facts," he said confidently, reaching for a yellow legal pad.
An hour later, Annabeth left the detective's office, certain that he knew what he was doing and would be valuable.
She drove to the mall and wandered through it, knowing she needed to buy something for New Year's Eve.
There wasn't much of a selection in size sixteen, but maybe she could squeeze into a fourteen since she was now a little thinner.
Annabeth carried the few dresses that pleased her into a dressing room, stripped and tried on the first one.
She looked in the mirror in amazement, "It's huge!"
Then she stopped and actually looked at her face.
"I'm thinner.
Much thinner."
She dropped the garment to the floor then turned this way and that, examining her body.
"Look at that," she said.
Bending over, Annabeth lifted the dress from the floor.
It was the fourteen, not the sixteen!
Dressing hurriedly, Annabeth handed the large garments to the salesgirl, then returned to the racks again.
This time she selected some pieces from the twelves and tens and returned to the dressing room.
She slipped into one dress, a black velvet sheath with sheer sleeves and a scooped neck.
It fit perfectly.
"This is a ten!" Annabeth exclaimed.
Still a bit dazed, she paid for the dress, bought new underwear and stockings to go with it, then walked out to her car.
"Wow!" exclaimed Doug when he arrived to pick her up for the party.
He took her by the hand, turned her one way then another, and said again, "Wow!"
"It's your necklace that makes the dress," answered Annabeth shyly.
"It's you, not the dress."
Annabeth blushed, then said, "You look wonderful too.
So dashing in that dark suit."
"Not like an undertaker?"
Doug laughed.
They drove silently for a long time until Annabeth began telling Doug about Sally, the crisis, and the wedding plans.
"So we're going to New Orleans tomorrow.
Just a few days--Sally will have to be back at work."
Doug shook his head.
"R.J.," he said then stopped.
"You know I realized something.
My mother was critical and competitive--then dead.
Dad ignores everyone.
I married R.J. to shock Dad--did you know that?"
"Figured something like that.
Couldn't have been…" Doug stopped mid-sentence.
"And I loved him all those years, but he was never really good enough for me.
I just saw the good, maybe it was there, but there wasn't enough of it.
I just figured he was all I deserved."
Doug's eyes twinkled as he looked at Annabeth.
"That was a lot to realize.
Took courage to figure all that out.
I'm proud of you."
She smiled back at him, then reached for his hand.
"Thanks," she said
"It was partly because of all the talks with you that I was able to learn all this."
He squeezed her hand tightly, then pulled into a parking spot in front of a big house.
"This is it."
Doug introduced her around, then they mingled together for a couple of hours, enjoying conversation with a variety of people, very few of whom Annabeth knew, although some of the faces were familiar.
When, a bit before midnight, their host dragged Doug off for some business talk about leasing several more cars for his salesmen, Annabeth set aside her champagne flute and walked into the kitchen for a glass of ice water.
"Well, well, well," said Grady, lounging against the counter, an unlit cigarette in his hand.
Annabeth tensed immediately upon hearing his voice.
The wolf whistle he let loose made her even more uncomfortable.
"Don't you look like hot stuff tonight," he said, winking at her.
He'd obviously been drinking.
Annabeth looked at the man before her, taking a deep breath and trying to maintain her poise.
What was it about him that unnerved her so?
He was tall and attractive, although there were lines at his eyes, a downturn by his mouth.
There was something in his eyes.
Taking her time, Annabeth looked carefully.
Who was he really?
Grady took a couple of steps toward her as she scrutinized him.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, then said, "Say, I looked for you at Gleason's.
Wondered where you disappeared to.
Didn't know you'd track me down on New Year's Eve."
He glanced at his watch, "And just in time for a kiss too."