Cherry Money Baby (32 page)

“I need to talk to you,” Cherry said. “Alone.”

“Certainly. This way.” She led Cherry through a connecting room into the foyer. Their heels clicked on the marbled floor. She smiled at Cherry. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Cherry took a breath. Away from the party, in the vaulted, empty room, everything sounded so
loud.
“The answer is no.”

Ardelia’s face was impassive. “To what?”

“I’m not having the baby.”

Ardelia lowered her glass, holding it in front of her hips like an offering. “What? Why?”

“Why?” She hadn’t thought this far. “I just . . . I won’t. I don’t want to.”

“But what about the money?” Ardelia said. She was a little drunk. “You’ll have a place to stay and —”

“I mean, I
can’t,
” Cherry corrected her. She’d wanted to do this quickly. Execution style. This was torturous. “Something came up. I mean, something happened. And it’s my fault, and I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Ardelia set her glass on an end table. Some of its contents sloshed out, splashing on the floor. “I don’t understand this.”

Cherry shook her head. “Don’t ask, okay?”

“I’m asking! I think I deserve to know!” Her eyes narrowed. “Is it Spanner? Has she done something?”

“I hooked up with Maxwell!”

Her words made the foyer sing. That or the sheer force of them had given Cherry tinnitus. She felt numb. It was like that chilled moment after being slapped, before the burning and the tears came.

Ardelia looked utterly perplexed. “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I know.” Her knees felt weak. She might collapse. “It —”

Something in Ardelia’s eyes cut her short. The other girl’s gaze had drifted over Cherry’s shoulder and up. She turned.

Lucas was on the stairs. His eyes met hers. He wobbled a bit, as if unsure whether to run back up. Instead, he brought his suspended foot down and without breaking stride, without looking at her, moved past them toward the front door.

“Wait —!” she started, but he was already gone. The door
thump-cracked
as it slammed behind him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

She fought back the need to be sick. She felt dizzy. She rushed to the door. She could see him through the beveled glass windows. He walked with hands in pockets across the road and into the orchard. She opened the door to follow him.

A hand rested gently over hers.

“Don’t chase him,” Ardelia said. “Give him a bit.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Cherry cursed over and over again, her breath hot and wet in her throat, the world going wobbly like the treated windows. A surge welled up inside her, and she threw open the door and ran after him.

The rainstorm had left the ground soft. The mud pulled at her shoes as she ran through the orchard, ducking under the branches. She looked up one row, down another. It seemed impossible to lose someone in the wide avenues between the trees, but she couldn’t see Lucas. She called his name, turned a corner, and there he was, leaning against a large cherry tree. When he saw her, he turned, but she called to him again, and he paused beneath the branches, his back to her.

“I know that saying
I’m sorry
doesn’t mean anything —”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’m
sorry,
” she said, gasping it. It was airsickness all over again, the same upended feeling, that turning-inside-out feeling, of expunging something toxic from within. “I’m
so sorry.
We made out — it wasn’t sex. It wasn’t . . . anything! I wanted to tell you. But then, I swear to God, I thought all that would do was make you feel like shit and make me feel a little less guilty. So I thought,
Okay, I’ll just deal with it on my own because Lucas doesn’t deserve to feel bad.
But now I know that was totally stupid. And then there was the fire, and the offer from Ardelia, and I just don’t know what in the clear-blue fuck is going on anymore.”

He reached up to grab one of the lower branches. He pulled on it, testing its strength. The leaves shimmered and rained, and a few blossoms shook loose.

“I’ve been
so mad
at myself,” he said at last. “For being jealous. I felt like such a jerk. Like a possessive, controlling jerk. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t want you talking to him.” His shoulders pinched, like her gaze on his back was causing him physical pain. “When?”

“A few weeks ago,” Cherry said. “The night of the fire.”

“You said you were with Vi.”

“I was,” said Cherry.

“Oh, Jesus. Was it some kind of sick threesome?”

“No!” She wanted to strangle him. She wanted to hold him and press her face into his. “Don’t be like that.”

He turned to her, and his expression had softened. He wiped his hands together, brushing away the grit from the branch. “I don’t know if I can let this go.”

“I know,” she said.

His eyes found hers. “I couldn’t say this before, but I think I’m allowed to now.”

She braced herself for the terrible force of his hurt, his anger, but Lucas didn’t seem angry now. He seemed almost relieved.

“You’ve changed,” he said. “At first I thought it was a good thing. Like you were letting loose a little bit. Staying out late, meeting new people. And then when Ardelia hired you, well, it looked like you felt good about yourself. Like you felt
smart.
And I’ve always known that you were smarter than you thought.” His mouth soured; he shook his head. “But this isn’t about
you.
It’s just about your
body.
Is that all you’re good for?”

“No. Ardelia respects me. She trusts me.
That’s
why she asked me.”

“She asked you because you’re desperate.” He held his hands palms up, weighing invisible values. “Money for your body. You know what that job description sounds like to me?”

She was inches from him before his mouth began forming the word, fist tight, arm pulled back for the same right hook that downed Olyvya Dunrey. But she stopped herself. This close, she could see the tears in his eyes, the tilt of his chin as he almost imperceptibly turned his cheek to meet the punch he knew was coming. He wanted her to hit him.

She put her palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

She turned and moved back toward the house. She could almost hear the snap of the rubber band that pulled him away, over the trees, across the sea, back to Aubrey.

The party had moved into the back garden, and the house seemed empty, abandoned. Ardelia was waiting for Cherry by an end table crowded with half-empty champagne flutes. She wrung her hands, approaching the other girl carefully.

“Did you talk to him?”

Cherry nodded.

“Come with me.”

She steered Cherry toward the stairs, her grip gentle but brooking no resistance. Eve emerged from the parlor with a tray of used glasses. Ardelia motioned for Cherry to go upstairs. Ardelia hung back and spoke to Eve in a hushed voice, barely loud enough for Cherry to hear.

“Eve, there’s an upset gentleman in the orchard. Please retrieve him and take him to the kitchen. Have Oliver fix him something warm. Make him comfortable, but keep him out of sight.”

“I’ve got to take the plates through!” the girl bleated.

“Just
do it,
” Ardelia growled. Eve hurried toward the kitchen with her dishes, and Ardelia joined Cherry on the stairs. She smiled and ushered her through the house, down a long windowed hallway, to a pair of double doors.

The master bedroom was vaulted and opulent. Between two standing mirrors sprawled an immense canopied bed, its silky coverlet lounging over the edges and draping across the floor. In the far corner towered an enormous scalloped vanity. Everywhere Cherry looked, she saw herself in polished and reflective surfaces, everything silver and white — except for a small black panel tucked in a corner, the only blemish in the room’s sterling complexion.

“Here, fresh air,” Ardelia said, taking her through a triptych of French doors leading to the balcony.

There in the cool, still-damp night air, Cherry lost it. She began to sob and shake. Her heart was shattered, and the thousand still-beating pieces raced through her bloodstream, taking their separate pulses to her fingertips, her toes, her joints. She might shake apart.

Ardelia helped her to the deck lounger.

“Breathe, darling. Breathe.”

“I . . . I can’t . . .”

Ardelia disappeared and returned a moment later with a glass of water. She pressed something small and round into Cherry’s palm.

“What’s this?”

“Valium,” said Ardelia.

Cherry pushed it away.

Ardelia offered her a glass. “At least have a drink.”

“No.”
She shoved the glass. It tipped from Ardelia’s hand and smashed on the balcony’s tiled floor. Cherry felt cold water splash her toes.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“That’s okay. That’s all right.” She felt Ardelia’s palm on her forehead. “You’re so hot, you poor thing. You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

“Yes, please.”

Ardelia laughed. “See? You’ve still got your sense of humor.”

Cherry caught her breath, quieting her own sobs. She pulled her feet up onto the lounger, pressing her face to her knees. Ardelia sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I’m
horrible,
” Cherry said at last.

“You’re not horrible.”

“I’m the worst person.” She looked up, seizing the idea. “I am. I’m Hitler. I’m Osama bin Laden.”

“I think you’re selling those two a bit short.”

“He’s never going to forgive me!”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Ardelia held Cherry’s face into her shoulder and rubbed her back. Up and down. Side to side. The gesture was familiar. Her mother used to do the same thing when Cherry was a girl.

“What do I
do
?”

Ardelia was quiet a moment. The sounds of the party below washed over them like rain.

“Well, I can have Oliver drive him to London. I’ll pay for his flight home — don’t you worry about that.”

Cherry pulled away. “What? I mean, what do I do to make him forgive me?”

“Oh.” Ardelia looked a little confused. “I don’t know if there’s anything you
can
do.”

“So I just give up? Lose him?”

Ardelia licked her lips. “Darling, I’m not sure how to say this, but . . . these things happen. Hearts get broken. I know it may not make sense right now, but in time you’ll move on. So will he.”

“Jesus.” Cherry edged away. “That’s not what I thought you’d say.”

“What did you think I’d say?”

“I don’t know, that I shouldn’t give up? That we’ll get through this?” She added in a softer tone, “Don’t you think we’ll get through this?”

Ardelia bit her lip. “I think
you
will,” she said.

Cherry stared at the patio tiles, the sparkles of broken glass. This was really happening. She wanted to run, but she wasn’t sure in what direction. Down into the orchard, to find Lucas, or the other way. Into outer space.

“Come here,” Ardelia said, helping her to her feet. They stood at the railing and looked down into the garden. The party was in full force. Couples and conversational circles cast weird shadows over the flower beds. A few of the guests had taken off their shoes and waded into the fountain, lounging against the weird blue orb in the center. A woman tripped and fell ass-first into the water. Everyone laughed. No one was worried. Everyone was all set forever.

“Look at where you are,” Ardelia said. “Your life is changing. You’re moving on. On to such incredible things.” She squeezed Cherry’s hand. “I know it hurts now, but think about all the people in the world hurting right now. How many of them get
this.
” She gestured to the party below, the laughter, the buckets of champagne, all the sparkling things. And the garden itself, the estate’s rolling hills and beyond. “You know,” Ardelia went on, smiling conspiratorially. “You and I could go to Rome. Stand in the Trevi Fountain. Eat the world’s greatest food! There’s too much to
experience
in life to be stuck with one man.” She put her hands up. “I’m not saying you and Lucas are done for sure, right? I mean who knows what tomorrow will bring. I’m just saying that if things
don’t
work out, there are
benefits.
” She seized Cherry’s wrists, holding them together as if they were shackled. “You can do
anything
you want. You’re
free
now.”