Power Play (13 page)

“Worse?” she sniffed. “I’m already worse off now than when I started.”

“Mary, give it a chance.” Rania paused. “You haven’t worn the last pair of stockings have you?”

“No.”

“Wear them to your next major event.”

“I don’t even have a job. How will I have an event to go to?”

“You will and I want you to wear the last pair of stockings then. For now, wear the fishnets to the funeral.”

“Won’t that be…indecent?”

Rania smiled. “Not at all. Mrs. McQueeth would have wanted that.”

“How do you know that?”

“Just trust me.”

So many well-wishers attended Mrs. McQueeth’s funeral that they had to hold the gathering in the main hall. Mary’s mother, Kate Reyland, looked around in awe, her feathered black hat swatting Mary’s face each time she turned. She looked at Mary, her pretty face pinched up in a scowl. “I don’t know
how
a woman with no family could command such a crowd.”

Mary brushed off a feather that had fallen on her nose. “She was a wonderful woman and everyone here knew it.”

“Even him?” Kate asked, gesturing to Edmund, who was too good-looking for a man in mourning. “I’ve noticed you watching him the whole day.”

Mary adjusted her jacket.

“Handsome man.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve gone and fallen for him,” she scoffed. “You’ll never learn, will you? You’re always reaching beyond your grasp.”

Mary groaned. “Not today, Mom.”

“Some women are lucky in love and some women aren’t. It’s a fact of life.”

“Mrs. McQueeth—”

“Was always putting silly ideas into your head. If your father hadn’t left me and taken his hefty salary with him, I probably would have fired her.”

Mary glanced at the ceiling, wishing she could call on Mrs. McQueeth’s ghost to slap her mother.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your change. After your brothers saw you, they went on and on about it.”

Mary smiled, pleased that they’d noticed, although they hadn’t told her. “That’s nice.”

“No, it’s not. What do men know? You put on some lipstick and they think you’ve had a face-lift.”

Mary sighed.

“I know you, Mary Antoinette Reyland. You may look glamorous, but you’re the same old Mary underneath and you can’t deny that.” Kate glanced down at Mary’s gray skirt and fishnet stockings. “And those.”

“What about them?”

“Personally, I think those stockings are absolutely inappropriate for a solemn occasion like this.”

“I didn’t wear them for you. I wore them for Mrs. McQueeth and I don’t want another word out of you. Because in a few minutes you may be joining Mrs. McQueeth. Now I need to mingle.”

Kate suddenly looked panicked. “Don’t leave me; I don’t know any of these people.”

“No one is going to bite you. Just say hello.”

“But—”

Mary squeezed her mother’s hand. “You’ll be fine.” She adjusted her mother’s hat. “You might make a new friend.”

Mary left her mother and saw Sara and Larry entering the hall. Her heart twisted with the remembered pain of their lost friendship. She froze when they turned in her direction, then offered a shy smile. Larry waved and Sara nodded, then approached her.

“I really am sorry about Mrs. McQueeth,” Sara said.

“Thank you.” Mary toyed with her necklace, the memory of their visits together to Mrs. McQueeth’s house coming back full force, bringing with it tears. She glanced up at the ceiling, hoping to hold them back. “Nice of you to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss a last chance to say goodbye.”

Mary shifted awkwardly, a question burning in her mind. “What did Edmund say to you to make you leave that night you came to dinner?”

“He didn’t say anything.”

Mary looked at her, surprised. “What?”

“No. He just pulled out a little black box and showed us the ring.”

“What ring?”

Sara smirked. “I didn’t think he’d give it to you, but I was still jealous.” She glanced at Edmund, then shrugged. “I guess I was jealous for nothing,” she said, sending a poignant glance at Mary’s bare finger. “Sad, isn’t it?” She moved toward Mary, then thought better of it and walked away.

Mary didn’t watch Sara leave. Instead she stared at Edmund, who was consoling a group of residents, one of whom was sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder.

He’d had an engagement ring? Had he planned to propose to her that night? In the eight years she had been with Curtis, he had never bought her jewelry—let alone a piece that held such promise. Perhaps they’d been mistaken. No, she was the one who’d been mistaken. She was the one who hadn’t wanted to talk about the future. And now she realized that what had been in that box would remain a mystery.

They had no future together now. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want him in her life, and she couldn’t take back the cruel words she’d said.

Instead of mingling, Mary decided to go visit Mrs. McQueeth’s old apartment. She had an extra set of keys and let herself in. Once inside, she closed her eyes and sniffed the air, imagining she could still detect the sweet scent of zucchini bread and chamomile tea. In a corner she saw Mrs. McQueeth’s treasured grandfather clock, and on the floor, her Oriental rug, looking as new as when she first bought it.

Mary wandered into the bedroom, surprised that nothing had been touched. Everything was as she had remembered it, and for a moment she denied her friend’s death, desperately hoping that if she waited long enough Mrs. McQueeth would walk through the door.

Mary sat on the edge of the bed, picked up a pillow and smelled it. She ran her hand across the exquisite quilt that covered the bed. It had been a gift Mrs. McQueeth’s husband’s family had given them as newlyweds, and since his death ten years after the wedding she had placed it on her bed to remember her happy years with him. Mary went through the closets, touching Mrs. McQueeth’s coarse wool sweater and polyester skirts and blouses. Next she opened one of the drawers, curious to find Mrs. McQueeth’s infamous, mysterious black book. She didn’t find it but did find a diary.

Mary sat back on the bed and opened it to a page dated in the spring of the previous year and started to read.

I am so happy. I can’t believe that Mary has done this for me. She is such a good woman. She’s as sweet as she was as a child. Although I do worry about her, I have hopes that she will eventually allow herself the blessings she deserves.

As Mary continued to read, she was surprised how often her name appeared, but more how joyful Mrs. McQueeth’s year had been. Her friends, her activities—she had lived every moment to the fullest and even discussed the man she called “My Heart.” Mary smiled as she continued to read, then gasped when a certain name jumped out at her.
Edmund came over today as he always does.
Edmund had visited her? When? Mary continued to read in disbelief.

He took me to the museum as he promised. He knows that I get lonely when the anniversary of Luella’s death comes by. He even brought a cake to celebrate her birthday.

And another entry.

We visited the cemetery today. Edmund showed me where his grandparents are buried. I know it hurts him to talk about them, but he trusts an old woman and I use that to draw him out. He doesn’t trust easily and that’s his failing, but with time he will learn.

And another.

We bought the ring for Mary. It’s beautiful. Edmund thought it was too plain, but I said it was perfect. I know my Mary. I can’t wait until he asks her.

And more.

Edmund and I had a little argument today. He still hasn’t asked Mary to marry him. He says that Mary’s not ready. I think he’s afraid she’ll say no. He doesn’t take rejection well. I told him that I won’t live forever and I want to be at their wedding. I hope he asks her soon.

Mary slammed the diary shut, unable to read any more. Pain mingled with disbelief. Twice Edmund had told others he’d wanted to marry her? Why hadn’t he told her? She pushed the diary back in the drawer and closed it. Part of her knew the answer. She’d never given him a chance. She was the one who’d wanted to keep their relationship as an affair, and that’s what she’d gotten. It was too much to take in. She glanced down and noticed a black feather on the floor. Damn her mother’s silly hats. She spent a fortune on buying them…Mary stopped.
A fortune.
Slowly, an idea came to her. She knew how to raise money for the community. She said goodbye to some of Mrs. McQueeth’s friends, then left the hall. At home, she immediately called Jenna. “I need your help.”

T
hey met for lunch along with Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Lemon. And Mary told them of her idea. With the government funding temporarily on hold, the community needed some form of fund-raiser, or Edmund and the other investors and, most important, the residents would lose everything. Mary wanted to hold an auction and use Jenna’s contacts to help her.

Jenna immediately contacted the home office for Madison’s Hats, and used her business savvy to negotiate an unbelievably low price for the large number of items she purchased from them.

They agreed to provide a total of one hundred hats, each costing an average of five hundred dollars, plus one hundred designer bags and shoes to match. Following several planning meetings they agreed to use the residents as models, and Mrs. Lemon amazed them all by getting the grand ballroom of the famous downtown Yardley Hotel for the event and having them cover all costs. Mary engaged the help of Rania and Cynthia from the hair salon to do the makeup and style their models’ hair for the event. The residents were beside themselves. Rania offered to loan clothing for the event and the excitement of the upcoming event renewed the community.

Edmund felt it, too, although he was careful not to be too close to it. Mary wanted him out of her life and for now it would stay that way. He’d seen her at the funeral, but she’d disappeared before he had a chance to say anything. Unfortunately, he had to hear about how wonderful and brilliant Mary was from Jenna and his mother. Although it hurt, he liked to know that she was happy. That night he fell on his couch, exhausted from another tedious meeting of investors, taking back their money. He had already sold a property to cover some of the lost revenue. After watching a sitcom on TV he promptly fell asleep.

He didn’t dream at first, then he imagined Mary’s voice calling for him.

“Edmund, please help me!”

He couldn’t believe how real it sounded. “I always will,” he mumbled.

“Please, Edmund, I need you!”

Edmund slowly woke up. The pounding continued. His eyes flew open. He dashed to the door and swung it open. His heart leaped at the sight of her, then constricted with worry by the look on her face.

He gripped the door frame to keep from touching her. “What’s wrong?”

She held up what lay cradled in her arms. “It’s Cammie. She’s been panting and she’s hot to the touch. When I called my vet he said she’s likely overheated and to just put her into a cooler area, but she hasn’t cooled down yet and I don’t know what to do.”

Edmund took Cammie from her. “I do.” He went into the kitchen and grabbed a spritz bottle. “Fill that with lukewarm water.” After she did Edmund lightly misted the iguana. Slowly the panting stopped. “She’s probably dehydrated so this won’t be enough. Go and prepare a bath. Not cold. Make sure the water is lukewarm.”

Mary raced into the bathroom, glad that Cammie had improved but no less concerned. She struggled to turn the knobs but eventually managed to fill the tub. “It’s ready!”

Edmund entered the room with his sleeves rolled up and Cammie cradled in his arms. He gently placed her in the water. Mary watched his hands, remembering how they’d held her just as tenderly. She turned away.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

“Thank you.” Why couldn’t it be okay for them? Why did he have to be the man who’d caused her to lose her promotion twice? The man who’d kept secrets from her?

After about fifteen minutes Edmund took Cammie out of the bath and toweled her. The iguana looked healthier. “There we are. Much better. I think she deserves a treat. I have some melon in the fridge. It will help rehydrate her.”

In the kitchen Mary fed Cammie a piece of cantaloupe. To her relief, Cammie ate it.

She glanced at Edmund, who stood at the sink washing the knife he had used to cut the melon. “I guess all those books you read about iguanas came in handy. Thank you.”

He dried the knife, then put it away. “You’re welcome.”

Mary hesitated. “Would you mind keeping Cammie for a while? She’s really not doing well and I’m afraid she’ll…she misses her cage and I know this wouldn’t have happened if she’d been here.”

“I don’t mind looking after her,” Edmund said. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

Mary didn’t respond, the memory of Mrs. McQueeth still separating them.

“You can trust me.”

She touched Cammie’s skin. “Just make her better.”

“I will.”

Mary went to the door.

“If there’s anything else, I’d be happy to help.”

Mary started to say no, then stopped and sent him a pensive look. “Actually, I’m glad you asked. I could use your help.”

“Stop moving,” Jenna scolded him.

“When Mary asked for my help this isn’t what I had in mind,” Edmund said.

“You’re going to be the perfect master of ceremonies.” She adjusted his jacket. “Too bad we couldn’t put
you
on auction.”

“You’d have to kill me first.”

She smiled smugly. “I’d bet you would be out there if Mary was willing to bid.”

“She wouldn’t bid on me.”

“What happened between you two?”

“Are you finished yet?”

Jenna drew back and looked at him. “Yes.” She watched him turn. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

On the night of the auction, a crisp summer wind greeted the participants. With word that some of the expensive hats were going to begin bidding for as low as fifty dollars, the ballroom was filled to capacity. Edmund stood at the podium and looked at his mother and Jenna. They outstyled everyone with matching bright pink silk off-the-shoulder full-length gowns, glass slippers and large dangling earrings made of semiprecious stones. His father wore a dark suit with a ladybug pin on his lapel. But the residents looked the best. The women looked fashionable in their gowns and the men wore their finest suits to act as escorts for the models. Then he saw Mary and couldn’t tear his gaze away, his mind aching for the words that would make everything all right again.

Mary was too busy to notice him. She had started the evening in a panic, beginning with the last pair of stockings she was to wear. She slipped into the pair of lace-top diamond-net stockings attached to a garter belt, then immediately knew she had come full circle. The old Mary and the new Mary had become one. She took a deep breath and put on a knee-length, turquoise chemise dress, glass bead necklace and earrings—Jenna had insisted—and a pair of black satin shoes.
Tonight will be a success,
she told herself. But once she entered the ballroom she wasn’t as sure. Mr. Johnson hadn’t practiced what he was to say and had lost his reading glasses, and Mrs. Pointer, an elderly woman of ninety-nine years of age, refused to wear the hat. Instead she wanted to just carry it on her lap and hold it up while she was pushed in her wheelchair.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Jenna said, seeing Mary’s worried expression. “Don’t worry about Mr. Johnson or Mrs. Pointer. Nobody expects this event to be perfect.”

“I hope it works.”

“It will. Tonight’s our lucky night.” Jenna glanced at something in the distance, and Mary turned to see what it was. She saw Edmund and her heart stopped, a feeling of loss cascading over her as she looked at him. She spun away. “The show’s about to start.”

Lady Luck definitely made an appearance that night. At the end of the evening Edmund announced the six-figure amount they had raised and the crowd cheered. Gregory hugged Mary. “You saved us.”

“I had a lot of help.”

“Edmund was right. You were the perfect person for this project.” He hesitated, catching a glance at his friend in the background. “If you can forgive me, you can forgive him, too.”

“I already have, but that doesn’t mean I can be with him.”

Gregory shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just because you’ve gone down a certain road doesn’t mean you have to stay there. You can make U-turns. Why let pride keep you on a lonely road?”

“I’m proud of you,” Edmund said as he helped Jenna with her coat. He turned to his parents and Mrs. Lemon. “All of you.”

His mother hugged him and his father patted him on the shoulder. “Perhaps you’re not so much a dragonfly as a flying beetle.”

Jenna hugged him. “It was a great night.”

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am for all that you’ve done.”

“We only helped,” Mrs. Lemon said. “You should be thanking Mary.” When the group turned and stared at her, she impatiently threw her shawl over her shoulder. “It’s the truth.”

Jenna nodded. “It is. This is all due to her.”

Edmund sighed. “I know. You’ve been hinting at it for weeks.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Something.”

“I could talk to her for you.”

“I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

He affectionately tweaked her chin. “Yes, little sister, I’m sure. But if I need any advice I know who to call.” He looked at them and smiled. “I know I have a family.”

Edmund left and headed down the hall. He saw Mary standing by the elevators. He stopped and began to turn away, then remembered that a Davis never turned away from something he wanted. Although she stood only a few feet away it felt like oceans. He took a deep breath and moved forward.