A Proper Young Lady (12 page)

Dani bumps into me when I stop. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” I bend over, put my hands on my knees, and wait to see whether or not I puke. A trickle of sweat runs down my forehead. No air conditioning outside, but the open space soothes my nerves. Nausea gives way to hunger.

By the time I straighten up again, I have an audience. My mother speaks first. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’m over it now.”
Soon as I eat, I’ll probably barf.
 

I follow Mr. and Mrs. Welles past where Cooper is standing and into the hangar. A side door leads to a lounge area and— 

“Hey!” I run to hug my sister Beatrice and her two boys.

She flashes me a teasing grin. “So you got yourself knocked up, huh?”

“Yeah. You jealous?”

“Absolutely. Dani’s baby?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I always say I’d have one for her?”

Mom cuts in and hugs my sister. “How’s Fred?”

“Fine. Overworked and loving it.”

Dani eases up beside me, so I nudge her toward Beatrice. “You remember Dani?”

My sister doesn’t quite gape at the girl. “Yes. Of course.” The two stare at each other for a moment before hugging. Over Dani’s shoulder, Beatrice gives me one of her stupid grins, like I’ve announced my engagement or something.

I’m having the girl’s baby, not sleeping with her.
I stick out my tongue. 

After the hug fest, Mom and Mrs. Welles wander off to the corner and chat. I play with the boys till Dani brings us chocolate donuts. Not just the icing kind either, but all the way through. Truly yummy. I eat two—real careful like—in front of the bathroom mirror. Not a crumb gets on my dress. 

“I am so happy for you.” My sister stands behind, watching me in the mirror.

I wipe a bit of icing from my lips. “Is Mom okay?”

She spins me around and hugs me again. “She sold the house for you, sis. To pay for school. You’re welcome to come stay with us. You know you are, but getting your GED would be harder with the boys around. Especially with you pregnant.”

“Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

“Let’s plan on Christmas, then. All right?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dani peeks into the restroom. “We’re getting ready to leave.”

I rush out the door to find Mom. Words fail me, so I hug her again. She pulls an envelope out of her handbag and gives it to me. “This is your nest egg, honey. I always wanted you to go to college, but it’s all right to have your own dreams. Call me once in a while. All right?”

I hug her again and drip my sadness down her back. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey.” She brushes a tear from my cheek and kisses my forehead. “Better run along.”

Dani holds the door for me as I rush to catch up. Cooper follows us out to the jet, but waits at the top of the stairs. I flop down on the seat I shared with Dani on the last flight.

No way to see my mother out the window.
We shoulda talked more, Mom.
 

I scoot over to make room for Dani, and buckle in.

As soon as Cooper takes his seat, one of the crew closes the cabin door. In a few minutes, we’re flying over North Georgia on our way to Virginia. I close my eyes to the world, snuggle against Dani, and try to sleep.

We land in Richmond around four and taxi to a stop in front of a humongous metal building. A few minutes later, one of the crew opens the aircraft door, so I grab my handbag and rush outside.

Dani follows me down the steps. She grabs my hand, and we head for a set of glass doors. “The company flies out of this airport. This is one of their buildings. The passenger lounge is through here.”

She leads me down a short hallway and stands in front of another set of glass doors. After a moment, something clicks, and they swing open.

A guy with curly white hair greets Dani with a hug. “Welcome home, Miss Danièle.”

“Thank you, Jake. This is Melanie Fairbairn. She’ll be staying with us.”

“Welcome to Richmond, young lady.”

Gentle kindness permeates the old man’s face and voice—like Grandpa Fairbairn. 

I miss you, Gramps.
Without thinking, I give Jake a quick hug. 

Dani leads me to the restroom. She attacks her face like she’s a contestant for Miss America. I find a place to get sick. Nausea was kind enough to wait till we landed, but my stomach demands payment with interest as soon as I open the stall door.

“You all right?”

“Dandy.”
Don’t worry, Miss Danièle. I won’t get any on this pretty dress.
After I wash lunch off my face, I let the girl repair my makeup. “Is there a vending machine around this place?” 

“Come and see.” The girl’s eyes burst with mischief. She grabs my hand and drags me down the hallway. The aroma of something sweet and freshly baked sends my empty stomach into conniptions. Dani pauses with a hand on the doorknob. “Jake’s are truly brilliant.”

“At the airport?” Beyond the door lies a kitchen. Scones swarm over a cooling rack on the counter—every one of them glazed on top. 

Jake glances up from his work. “Why Miss Melanie, would you care for a scone and some milk?”

“Oh, yeah.”
Like I’d refuse?
Steamed milk and orange-cranberry scone—my stomach promises me no trouble at all so long as I eat something this good.
Does a proper young lady lick her fingertips and scarf every last crumb? Well, yeah. This one does.
 

Cooper pokes his head into the room as I finish. “We’re ready to leave.”

Jake shoos us with both hands. “You go ahead. I’ll be along in a moment.”

Dani and I follow Cooper out the front door. Five people—six if Jake’s coming—and we’re taking a motor home? No. Cooper and Mr. Welles climb into a stretch Cadillac Escalade. That leaves four of us. 

Not sure what I expected, but the interior resembles a tiny apartment, with a breakfast bar on one side and living room on the other. I nestle into one end of an overstuffed leather couch and crash. After a word with her mother, Dani joins me.

Jake disappears up front. A moment later, the engine rumbles to life, and we pull out on the highway. Weird not being able to see outside, but not as bad as the airplane.

The gentle diesel drone and slow rocking of the bus fade till it’s like we’re sitting in some upscale hotel room on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

I walk up front and collapse into the seat across from Jake. The old man gives me a sympathetic nod. “If you’re tired, missy, there’s a bedroom at the rear. I’m sure Momma Bear won’t mind y’all sleeping in her bed.”

I flash the old man a grin. “Thanks.”

“We’ll be home in about two hours.”

Back in the living room area, Mrs. Welles is lecturing Dani about something.

I wait till she acknowledges me. “Jake said I could use the bedroom?”

“Why of course, sweetheart. Make yourself at home.”

Sure enough—past the lounge and a bathroom, behind a door, I find a double bed. Dark, quiet, comfy. Why not? Two hours is time enough to dream of the boy who promised me his heart. 

Danièle

Mum slips the cozy off her teapot and pours herself a cup. “Darjeeling, love?”

“Yes. Please.” I add milk and a dash of raw sugar to mine, then help myself to a scone before resuming my seat.

My mother settles into the recliner across from me. “I’d like a word with you while your guest is sleeping.”

“Certainly.” I shut off my phone and lay it aside. Email will have to wait.

“Miss Fairbairn’s rather more attractive than I recall. Will she stay on as your child’s nanny?”

“I hope so. I’d like to finish college.”

“Then you must prepare now for her continued presence.”

“How so?”

“Your fiancé’s a man, sweetheart, and Miss Fairbairn’s pregnant with his child.”

“I intend to be very active as mother.”

“And as Mrs. Davis, no doubt. All well and good. But you must also satisfy Miss Fairbairn’s emotional needs or your husband may.”

“We’re best friends, Mum. She knows she can come to me with her concerns.”

“Perhaps. But will she if you spend insufficient time with her?”

“No.” She’ll withdraw rather than bother me.

“Are you set on finishing college?”

“Our wedding’s the first week of March. The baby’s due later that month. Finals are in May. Ethan graduates in June. This spring will be hectic, but I’ve got the summer to devote to being a mother before starting my senior year.”

“You have six months remaining with Miss Fairbairn before your nuptials. To ensure the young woman’s loyalty. And your husband’s fidelity.”

“We’re already best friends.”

“She’s the mother of your child.”

Adrenaline sends a wave of heat up my throat before I realize she’s simply trying to make a point. “Yes. I suppose so.”

“You must always see her in that light if she’s to remain under your roof. Meet her emotional needs as you do your husband’s sexual ones.” She pauses, her eyes suddenly intense. “Let me be clear—I’m not suggesting you sleep with the young woman.” 

Mother of my child or not, I’m daft to let her stay. She threatens not only my husband’s fidelity, but mine. I’ve broken enough promises, though. Whatever the cost to me, I’ll not deny her access to our child. “I haven’t the heart to send her away, Mum.”

“Then do what you must for her to protect your marriage.” With that, my mother ends our little chat. She stands and walks across to the breakfast bar.

I turn on my phone again and read my email, but my mind remains on Melanie and the child she carries.

Melanie

Bright light and utter silence interrupt my sleep. I blink away tears till my eyes adjust. Dani grins at me from the bedroom doorway. “We’ve arrived,” she says.

She leads me out of the bus and across a cement floor.

We’re inside.
I stop and survey my surroundings. Work benches line the back wall of the building. Sunlight filters through skylights overhead. Six garage doors all in a row. One large enough for a full-sized motor home. One bay with a hydraulic lift. 

Through the open door I glimpse a drive that winds through giant trees to iron gates and a stone fence.
Where are we?
Panic bares its ugly teeth at me. Prep school after all? 

Dani tugs at my arm. “Let me show you your room.”

We pass a laundry, a bathroom, and several closed doors before the hallway turns a corner, and we stroll through an archway.

My heart stops for a few beats while my eyes drink in wonder. A grand ballroom stretches out before us. At the far end of the dance floor a wide stairway leads up to the second level. To my right is
a line of columns, and beyond them, a dining area and kitchen. On the left is a formal entryway with massive double doors. On three sides of the two-story dance area a narrow balcony provides a walkway around the base of tall windows. 

Dani grins at me and bows low. She takes my hand, lifts it above my head, and twirls me around. “Mum’s well known for her charity cotillions. She’ll expect you to dance with any gentleman who asks—including Cooper—and do so with both manners and grace.” 

She leads me around the room in a waltz before bowing again. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

On the breakfast bar in the kitchen we find a crock pot full of what Dani says is lamb stew. Fresh biscuits wait nearby, in a bread warmer.

The girl shows me how to use the single-serve coffee maker to make hot chocolate.

Dani loads our stuff on a tray and leads me outside to a table shaded by an umbrella. “This is Mum’s garden, but I think my father spends more time here than she does.”

I take a seat facing away from the house so I can study the grounds. A brick wall topped by a wrought iron fence surrounds a fairytale park. A pond—or maybe a small lake—takes up almost half of the space. To one side stands a grove of huge trees. Between the house and the water, the grass lawn gives way to boulders, decorative plants, and flowers. A flagstone path leads off around the lake and out under the largest of the trees. 

“Your supper’s getting cold.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Lamb stew isn’t my favorite, but I take a spoonful. “Jake made this?”

Dani does her little bobble-head nod and keeps right on eating.

I scarf down quite a lot more of the stew before nibbling on a biscuit. Minutes later, I find myself staring at an empty bowl.
Jake’s gonna make me fat.
I lean back and survey the garden once again. 

Dani stands and gathers our dishes. “Finished?”

“Yeah.” I gulp down the rest of my chocolate and set my cup on the tray.

Back inside, Dani rinses our bowls, puts them into a dishwasher, and loads up a plate with scones. Her pace quickens then, and she rushes me up the stairs. At the top, I spin around. My imagination fills the ballroom with men in fancy tuxedos and women in their Cinderella gowns.
Mom said it was okay to dream. What if he ever did come back?
I shut my eyes and imagine he had. 

Somebody touches my cheek. My eyes snap open to discover Dani brushing a stray lock away from my face. “It’s good to see you smile,” she says.

Down the hallway and around the corner our journey ends. Dani leans against an old wooden door. “An English cottage once stood here. My parents loved the house so much they saved some of the architectural elements and incorporated them into the new building” For a moment, her mischievous grin reminds me of the Dani of long ago. She swings the door open and steps aside.

Oriental rugs cover much of the worn plank flooring. Rough-plastered walls rise to meet exposed beams and a vaulted ceiling. A stone fireplace and bookshelves cover the far wall. A seat in the bay window overlooks the garden. A full-sized Jenny Lind bed, an antique oak dresser, and a rocking chair complete the furnishings.

I pull open a door at the back of the room to find a modern bath.
Sweet.
 

The old wooden bed squeaks when I flop down on its feather mattress. Not as plush as the Biltmore, but certainly comfy.

Dani’s grin turns downright wicked. “Mum suggested one of the other guest suites. They’re larger and more modern. Would you like—”