Authors: Dara Girard
Mary stared at her, disbelief making her numb. “A person always needs a friend.” Mary released the door. “But I guess you never truly were one.” She turned and walked back inside. She didn’t turn when Larry called out her name.
M
ary rode the elevator determined not to cry. When she entered the apartment, Edmund sat at the dining table, his food untouched. After hanging up her coat she joined him at the table and prepared her plate. His gaze never left her. When Mary looked up at him she saw his resemblance to a cold-blooded creature as his calculating stare measured her every mood. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, then took a bite of the casserole. “It’s cold.” She took her plate and his and warmed them in the microwave. Minutes later she returned to the table, handed him his plate and sat down to eat. After a few minutes, she slammed down her fork. “Say something.”
“You don’t want me to talk about it.”
“You can talk about something else.”
“No, I can’t.”
“I won’t let you control my life. Curtis didn’t like my friends, or my choice in decorations or anything. But that’s who I am. I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to be with anyone who thinks I should be. I make mistakes and I don’t want to be judged, okay?”
“I’m not Curtis.”
“I didn’t say you were.” She glanced at his untouched plate. “Your food will get cold again.”
He lifted his fork and took a bite.
“I’m not sleeping over at your place tonight.”
He cut into his casserole with unnecessary force.
“You’re sleeping here.”
He didn’t look up, but she sensed his smile.
“Good riddance,” Mrs. McQueeth said when Mary told her the events of the previous evening.
Mary handed her a cup of tea, then sat down, incredulous. “You, too?”
“Sara was jealous of you even before all this, but she just couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Jealous of me before this? Why?”
“Why not? You’re a successful businesswoman.”
Mary sniffed. “I’d hardly call myself successful—I had no man and hadn’t been promoted in years.”
“But you’re a jewel. I hope you’ll realize that one day.”
Mary added sugar to her tea. “Edmund shouldn’t have done what he did that night. And to this day I don’t know what it was. I didn’t hear anything in the kitchen. What did he do or say to them?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s a good man.”
“He’s a bossy man. Curtis could be bossy, too.”
“He isn’t Curtis.”
“So he’s told me,” she said in a flat voice.
Mrs. McQueeth’s gaze became serious. “You’re happy, Mary. Don’t let anyone take that away from you. Claim your joy.”
“But he’s hiding something. I don’t know what. I can’t trust someone like that.”
“So ask him. Or are you afraid?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Or perhaps you don’t really want to know.”
Mary nodded. “That could be it. It’s not as though we have anything serious.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s the way we both want it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. McQueeth nodded but didn’t look convinced. Mary knew she couldn’t explain her relationship to anyone.
Edmund stayed at her place a few days and then they fell back into the habit of staying at his. He refused to talk about work or that night but was open about everything else. As autumn turned to winter, Mary’s efforts with the community project paid off. Two grant-funding agencies wanted to know more about the project, and Gregory’s reports met her standards.
One evening while Edmund went through his mail, Mary stared at pictures of his grandparents he had on the wall.
“Are your parents dead?”
“No, they just weren’t ready to be parents when I was little.”
“And now?”
“I’m not ready to be their son.” He tossed a decorative white envelope away. Mary saw that it was an invitation.
She rushed over to the wastebasket and retrieved it. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
She ran her hand over the envelope. “It’s a wedding invitation.”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you curious who it’s from?”
He opened another envelope. “It’s from my sister,” he said in a flat, disinterested tone.
“You’re throwing away your sister’s invitation?”
“Yes.”
Mary opened it, then showed him. “But it’s a
wedding invitation.
”
He shrugged in a casual motion that didn’t look casual at all. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t need me there.”
“But she wants you there.”
“She’s being sentimental. She’ll get over it.”
“That’s horrible.”
His eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Look, she has the family that she wants. She’s chosen the life she wants to live and I’ve chosen mine. She wants our parents in her life and I don’t.”
Mary was too stunned to let his anger frighten her. “You’re really going to cut her out of your life?”
Edmund returned to his letters. “I already did.”
She snatched the letters from him. “You’re going to punish her for her choice because it was different than yours? Isn’t she the same little sister you loved?”
“She—”
“She wants her big brother to see her get married. She’s not asking you to reconcile with your parents.”
He snatched the letters back and continued shuffling through them.
“Is this your idea of revenge?”
He slit one open.
“At least I’ll know what to expect when I do something you disapprove of.”
“You’re different.”
“How can I be different?”
“Because she’s my sister and—”
“You love
her,
” Mary finished. He didn’t need to agree, the truth was evident on his face. He loved his sister; he didn’t love
her.
That was the difference. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did; she shouldn’t have cared, but she did. Mary quickly dismissed the emotions. The old Mary would want commitment; the new Mary didn’t need that from anyone. She didn’t expect Edmund to stay in her life, and it was foolish to expect love from him. She didn’t need him to love her. She was fine keeping things as they were.
She liked him very much, but it was nothing like the deep attachment she’d felt for Curtis. She’d always been thinking about Curtis, wanting to please him. When she was in a shop she’d wonder what Curtis would like, what he was doing, was he happy. Since knowing Edmund, she’d never asked those questions about him. She didn’t go out of her way to please him; he was very easy to please, in more ways than one. Their relationship was simple without the complicated layer of emotions that had been in her past relationships. She was happiest in this one.
She made no demands of Edmund and he offered no promises. That was the way they both wanted it to be until it ran its course, however long that would be. Mary glanced at the invitation again with an odd twinge of regret. One day, hopefully not too far in the future, she’d send out a similar announcement, but Edmund’s name wouldn’t be there. She didn’t want to think about that day. She touched the violet lace trim. “This looks handmade.”
“Probably is. Jenna is very artistic.”
She set the invitation down. “I’d like to meet her.”
“Then go ahead and reply. I’m not going.” His gaze briefly met hers with a cold intensity. “That’s the end of it.”
But it wasn’t the end for Mary. She decided to send in the RSVP, certain she could wear Edmund down before the wedding, but he rebuffed any attempt she made. One busy Thursday afternoon while Mary was meeting with a vendor, Edmund stormed into her office. “Meet me in the conference room. Now.” He spoke the words softly, but they sent a chill through her. Her stomach twisted in fear. But she wouldn’t let fear overwhelm her. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Mr. Davis,” she replied, determined to be professional.
His ice-cold gaze fell on her colleague. “Then I’ll wait.”
The vendor jumped from his seat and hastily began gathering his belongings. “There’s no need for you to wait. We’re just about done here.” He dropped several pages on the ground and scrambled to keep his PDA balanced on top of a large stack of folders along with other papers he stuffed under his arm.
Mary shook her head. “Now, don’t—”
“Don’t worry, Mary. I can finish from here. You can go on.”
“Good,” Edmund said, then headed down the hall.
“He really looks upset,” the vendor said.
Mary sighed. “I know.”
When Mary entered the conference room, the first thing she noticed was the blinds. They all remained closed except one, which let a thin sliver of winter light cascade over the long, polished table. Edmund stood at the head of the table with his hands placed before him as though he were ready to address a crowd.
Mary quietly closed the door behind her, gripping the handle as she watched him. “Should I sit down?”
“Right now I don’t care what you do.”
Although his tone never rose above a gentle rumble, the anger behind it penetrated the room’s silence. Mary took a deep, steadying breath and approached the table. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
“I just received a call.”
“Oh?” She pulled out a chair.
“From my sister.”
She sat. “Oh?”
“She thanked me for replying to her invitation.”
“Oh?”
“Stop saying that,” he snapped.
Mary clasped her trembling hands together. “I’m sorry.” She’d expected him to be annoyed, not furious. She wished he’d just shout at her instead of cocooning himself in his controlled, quiet anger.
Edmund slowly came around the table, Mary’s wariness growing as he drew closer. “How did she get the mistaken impression that I would be attending her wedding?”
“You must know why, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
He stopped beside her. His eyes bore into hers like nails. “You have no business going behind my back and messing with family affairs.”
She made a helpless motion with her shoulders. “I just thought—”
He rested a palm on the table and another on her chair, trapping her. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if you think I’m cold and unfeeling.”
“Actually…” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, then started again. “Actually, I think it’s the exact opposite.” He blinked, surprised, and Mary gained courage when she realized that she’d hit a nerve. She stood and boldly stared up at him. “You want to shut her out because you don’t want to admit how much you miss her.”
He flashed an ugly smile. “No, that’s not it.”
“Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t like hearing the sound of her voice again? To know that you made her happy?”
He rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t like being manipulated, Mary. By anyone. Especially someone close to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, exasperated. “I don’t believe you.”
“I just thought you were making a big mistake.”
“The mistake is yours.” He turned away. “It’s over.”
For a moment she didn’t breathe. When she finally did, her knees gave way and she fell into a chair. Was this how it would end? She’d prepared herself for this day, but it felt too soon. She wasn’t ready to give him up. The first time she’d asserted herself with him, she’d gone too far and she didn’t know how to fix it.
“Mary!”
Her head snapped up. “Yes?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“I know,” he said drily. “That’s why I asked you
two
more times.”
“My mind drifted off.” She briefly touched her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. “I’ll get my things directly after work.”
“What things?”
“And I believe you have some things at my place. It’s not much, though.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Our breakup.”
He sat down, stunned. “You’re breaking up with me? When did you decide this?”
“I didn’t. You did.”
“When?”
“Just now. You said it’s over.”
He sighed. “I was referring to your attempts to manipulate me, which I just explained, but obviously you weren’t listening.”
The tightness in her chest eased. “So you’re not breaking up with me?”
A twinkle of amusement entered his gaze. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers and a smile that was both kind and a little wicked touched his mouth. Her pulse quickened. “I wouldn’t let you off that easily.” He bent down and gave her a playful kiss on the forehead.
The touch of his lips filled her with delight. “Oh?”
He frowned.
“Uh, I mean, I see.”
“No, you don’t.” He ran a tired hand down his face and slumped back in his chair. “She wants us over for dinner.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Edmund stood and his enigmatic smile returned. “Yes, I know.” He walked to the door.
Mary sent him a cautious look. “What are you up to?”
He opened the door and winked. “Revenge.”
M
ary couldn’t imagine what kind of revenge Edmund had in mind. Before leaving the apartment, she tried to get information about his family, but he refused to talk about his parents and when she asked him what Jenna did for a living he laughed so hard she decided not to ask again. He didn’t talk to her on the way there. She assumed it was part of her punishment and decided not to ask any more questions.
But questions filled her mind once Edmund turned into a private drive and drove up to a house that looked like a giant replica of a fashion doll’s dream house. Mary didn’t know so many shades of pink existed. A light dusting of snow clung to the awnings and looked like powered sugar on the bare birch trees.
“Your sister lives here?”
“Yes.”
“What does she do?”
Edmund laughed again.
“I don’t know what you find so funny.”
“You’ll find out.” He parked the car and exited before she could reply. Moments later they stood on the front step waiting for the door to open. When Edmund rang the doorbell a fifth time, Mary rubbed her gloves together, trying to keep warm. “Perhaps they’re not home.”
“They’re home. It just takes awhile for someone to answer the door.”
At last the door opened and a small, round man with a bushy mustache opened the door. He smiled, his teeth looking eerily white against his black mustache and brown skin. He pumped Edmund’s hand and said in a voice two registers lower than Mary expected, “Nice to see you.” He grabbed Mary’s hand and gave it the same vigorous shake. She would have fallen forward had Edmund not steadied her once the man abruptly released her hand. “And it’s nice to see you too, my dear.” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “A
Euchroma gigantea.
”
“What?”
“Yes.” He nodded, pleased. “You remind me of a
Euchroma gigantea.
A nice chunky one.”
Mary stared at him, wondering if she should be outraged or amused. “What is a eu-something?”
“I’m sorry. I’m using the scientific term. It’s a metallic wood-boring beetle. Beautiful little creatures from Ecuador. I hope you’re not offended, my dear. I’m an amateur entomologist and like to compare people to insects that I’ve studied. Beetles are my present specialty.”
“Oh.”
“I can send you pictures.”
She flashed a weak smile and glanced at Edmund for help.
Edmund patted the man on the shoulder. “I’ll send you her address.”
The man clapped his hands together. “Wonderful.”
Mary glared at Edmund; he smiled.
The little man held out his hand. “You might as well give me your coats. The others are waiting for you.”
Edmund and Mary followed the man into the main foyer, where the preponderance of pink continued, from the carpet to the walls. Once he had their coats carefully thrown over his arm he began to turn, then stopped. His eyes widened as he stared at something behind them. “Did you see that!”
They both turned but saw nothing.
“I didn’t think they lived in this state let alone at this time of year. But I’m sure I just saw one fly past. It’s extraordinary.” He dropped their coats on the floor. “I have to see more.” He raced out the door and down the concrete steps.
Edmund calmly picked up their coats and dusted them off.
“Okay,” Mary said. “So the butler is a little eccentric. I can handle that.”
Edmund opened the closet door, hung up their coats, then closed it. “That wasn’t the butler,” he said gravely.
The little man returned, looking disappointed. “It was a false alarm,” he said, passing by them with his shoulders slumped.
Mary watched him go, then whispered, “Who is he?”
Edmund raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t see the family resemblance?”
Mary paused, then gasped. “No, he couldn’t be.”
“Yes, he could.”
The little man returned. “I forgot to take your coats.”
“I already hung them up,” Edmund said.
“Good boy.” He turned to Mary. “Did he tell you he’s a
Crocothemis chinensis?
”
“A what?”
“A red skimmer,” Edmund explained.
“It’s a dragonfly,” Mr. Davis said. “Reminds me of Edmund. It’s swift. You know it can do a lot of things in mid-flight like capture its prey and make love.”
“Insects don’t make love, Dad.”
Mr. Davis made an impatient gesture with his hand. “You know what I mean. Of course dragonflies aren’t my favorite insects because they’re always darting here and there. I like the steady beetle. Do you want me to tell you why?”
“After dinner,” Edmund said, “It’s time to see the others.”
Mr. Davis spun away. “That’s a good idea. Let’s go.” He led them down the hall.
“That odd little man is your father?” Mary said in a hushed voice as they followed him.
“I’ll try not to take offense to the word
little.
”
“I can’t believe he’s even related to you, let alone your father.”
“It’s a story my grandparents told me. I still have my doubts.” Edmund took Mary’s arm and led her into the large living room, where an attractive woman in a purple silk track suit sat like a woman holding court.
“Now
she
must be your mother,” Mary whispered.
“No, that’s the neighbor.” He nodded to a woman in a large armchair. “That’s my mother.”
Mary tried not to stare but couldn’t help herself. If Edmund hadn’t pointed the woman out to her, Mary would have assumed the chair was empty. The woman blended in so well with the brown cushions and looked as though she’d never said yes to a meal in her life. No doubt her husband affectionately compared her to a walking stick.
“Is your sister somewhere in this room?”
“Yes.” He pointed to a side wall. “There.”
Jenna certainly was “there,” looking down at them from a twelve-foot oil painting of her in a garden dress. Before Mary could reply, a trilly voice cut through the air. “Edmund!”
Mary turned and saw the oil painting come to life in a smaller, but no less exquisite, form. The young woman flew into Edmund’s arms, kissing him on both cheeks, then turned her gaze to Mary. The resemblance to Edmund was evident in her grayish-brown eyes.
Mary had expected to like Jenna, but the moment the woman looked at her she had a sinking feeling she would not. “And you must be Maggie.”
“Mary,” Edmund corrected. “I told you I was bringing her.”
“Yes, I know. I guess I just expected…” She sent Mary an unflattering glance, then shrugged. “You’ve always had funny taste.” She held out her hand to Mary as though she expected a bow or a kiss. Mary briefly shook it instead.
Jenna shooed Mary toward the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Mary sat next to Mr. Davis, who inched closer to her.
Jenna looped her arm through Edmund’s before he could take the space next to Mary, and turned to her guests. “Aren’t you proud of me for orchestrating this little family reunion? Aren’t I clever?”
“Yes, very clever,” Mrs. Davis said in a tone that reminded Mary of a dog’s mournful howl. “I sometimes wish I were as clever as you.” She turned to her husband. “Aren’t we lucky to have such a clever daughter?”
Mr. Davis pulled on his mustache. “I still can’t figure out if she’s a leaf hopper or a lantern bug.”
“I think I’m a butterfly,” Jenna said.
“Yes, but they don’t live very long.”
“But they’re beautiful.” She lifted her chin. “Don’t you think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes, very beautiful,” Mrs. Davis said. “I sometimes wish I was as beautiful as you.” She looked at her husband again. “Aren’t we lucky to have such a beautiful daughter?”
Mr. Davis pulled his mustache. “I definitely think she must be a lantern bug.”
Jenna pursed her lips. “I don’t care what you think, Daddy, I still consider myself a butterfly.” She gazed up at Edmund. “Don’t you think I’m like a butterfly?”
He tapped her nose. “I’ve already told you what kind of pest you remind me of.”
She frowned. “You’re in my house. You have to be nice to me.”
“I
am
being nice. I’m not repeating what I told you.”
Jenna looked at Mary. “Do you have any brothers?”
“Yes, two.”
“Do you look like them? People are always telling me how alike Edmund and I look. Fortunately, he’s so good-looking I don’t mind.”
Edmund pulled away from Jenna. “Is dinner ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s eat.” He moved toward Mary, but Mr. Davis squeezed between them and took Mary’s hand. “I’ll show you the way, my lovely beetle. You can sit next to me.”
This time Mary knew better than to look at Edmund, and allowed herself to be led.
Dinner was an interesting mix of Caribbean and Southern cuisine. However, the delicious food didn’t improve the evening.
Mary tried to start a conversation with the attractive neighbor, who she learned was named Mrs. Lemon, but she answered only in monosyllables and Mary soon gave up. Then she tried to talk to Jenna. After the first ten minutes she found her mildly irritating, after a half hour annoying, and after another half hour she could have cheerfully suffocated her. Jenna talked about nothing but herself, her achievements—she’d made money by creating an accessory for the wildly acclaimed Madison’s Hats. They had been so impressed with her invention that they had bought the patent for millions—and she was absorbed in her travels, her charities, her hobbies and anything else that came to mind.
When a question from her mother and Mrs. Lemon briefly diverted her, Mr. Davis placed a silver grasshopper with beady red eyes next to Mary’s plate.
“It’s for you. Don’t worry, it’s dead. It won’t hop into your food,” he said, chuckling.
Mary plastered on a smile. “Oh, um, thank you.”
“Would you like me to pin it on you?” He turned the dead grasshopper over so that all its legs were in the air and she could see the latch attached to its belly. “I make them myself. They hold up very well so you can squeeze them and they won’t crumble. It’s the coating.”
“I’m afraid the color doesn’t match my outfit.”
“Silver matches everything.” He began to stand. “But I could get you one in gold if you want.”
Mary politely but firmly grabbed his arm. “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll just put it in my purse for safekeeping.”
“Couldn’t you put it on just once? It’s not every day that I get to see my pins on a fashionable woman such as yourself.”
Mary heard Edmund snicker. She didn’t turn to look at him and stifled a groan. “Okay.”
She briefly closed her eyes as Mr. Davis’s eager fingers slid the pin into place on her blouse. “There,” he said with pride. “It looks perfect. Don’t you think so Edmund?”
“Yes.” Edmund flashed a malicious smile. “Shame you don’t have a pair of matching earrings.”
Mr. Davis jumped to his feet. “That’s a great idea! I’ll be right back.”
Mary narrowed her eyes. “I will get you for this.”
Edmund’s smile widened.
Moments later Mr. Davis returned with tiny grasshopper earrings and his digital camera. “I want to take a picture of you in them,” he explained.
Reluctantly, Mary put on the earrings and had her picture taken, but not to be outdone, Jenna requested her own pair of beetle earrings and matching brooch and that another photograph be taken. Then the doorbell rang.
Nobody moved.
When the doorbell rang again, Mary looked around the table, confused by the lack of interest. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Lemon said.
Jenna put more food on her plate. “I’m still eating.”
“I got the door last time,” Mr. Davis said.
Mrs. Davis sighed and lifted her glass. “I really am
too
tired to get up.”
Edmund focused on his food.
The doorbell rang a third time, then a fourth. Before it rang a fifth time Jenna stood and left to answer it.
Mary looked at Edmund and mouthed, “Another neighbor?”
He shrugged. Soon Jenna came in with a man Mary had seen before. “Edmund and Margaret come and meet my fiancé, Elijah Allsworth.”
Mary didn’t even notice Jenna’s mistake with her name. She was too captivated by the man standing next to her. For a second time that night she’d seen a two-dimensional person become real, except he was standing next to the wrong woman.
“What’s wrong?” Edmund said.
Mary bit her lip. “What do you mean?”
“You just gasped.”
“Edmund!” Jenna said. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
His jaw twitched with irritation, which pleased Mary to know he was having as dreadful a time as she was. He nodded to the man. “Hello.”
“And you, too, Margaret,” Jenna insisted.
“My name is Mary,” she said, watching the man to see if he recognized her from the office.
He didn’t. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Let’s all go into the living room.” Jenna turned and left, pulling Elijah with her. The rest of the party followed, but Mary remained seated as if stuck to her chair.
Edmund sent her a worried look. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“I know that guy. And he can’t be your sister’s fiancé.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s dating someone in my office.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. That two-timing creep. We have to tell her.”
He laughed.
“I’m not joking.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so funny.”
“Edmund, be serious.”
He shook his head. “You can’t tell her.”
“I have to.”
“She wouldn’t believe you anyway. Besides, you’re not sure. He could just look like the other man you know.”
“I’m sure. It’s him.”
“But you have no proof.”
“Proof can come later. You could hire a private detective—”
Jenna returned to the room and tapped her foot impatiently. “What’s taking you two so long?”
“We’ll be there in a minute,” Edmund said.
“But I—”
Edmund’s voice hardened. “In. A. Minute.”
Jenna opened her mouth to protest, but Edmund pointed to the door in a gesture that halted any attempts at theatrics. Jenna pounded her foot, then marched away.