The Guestbook (20 page)

Why had she answered it? The mechanic was coming over today, and she was sure it was the driver calling for directions. Lily closed her cell phone and let it drop to the floor.  How did he get her number? Only Brad, her attorney and her mother had it. She stumbled back and fell onto the couch.  Memories assaulted her, yelling and fighting, all her clothes and dolls being thrown into suitcase, driving away without saying goodbye, even to her Grandma Maggie. How could he do it?  How could her father, who hadn’t even spoken to her in almost twenty years, pull the rug out from her again?

The notes, it had to be him. She tried to breathe, but she choked on her tears. She curled into a ball on the sofa and tried to block out the world. Her daddy wanted her house, this house, and he was suing her to get it. The room spun and filled with a ringing. The sound was familiar, her cell phone. She watched it light up on the floor; it was Brad. At least he took care of her, gave her a home, never abandoned her, and still wanted her back.

In a daze, she opened the lid and whispered, “Hello.”

“Lily, is that you? Are you all right?”

She whimpered into the phone. “He wants the house…”

“Who is he? Who wants the house?”

“My father.”

“Lily, try to calm down. What do you mean? Your father called you?”

Lily dried her tears with her sleeve. “He’s suing me for this house. Says my grandmother wasn’t in her right mind when she left the family home to me and not him, her only child.”

“The SOB. He doesn’t even bother to see if you’re alive for twenty years, and now he wants to take the house out from under you? What a guy.”

Phone in hand, Lily walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. Brad’s voice was calming; he was on her side. The taxes, the mounting costs to maintain the place much less start a business, and now this horrible lawsuit with her father were just too much to face alone.

His voice was smooth and settling. “Honey, it will be ok.  I’ll call my lawyer and get this handled, today. Don’t be afraid. Your father will never bother you again.”

She sipped her water then took a deep breath. “Thank you, Brad, that is very kind.”

“I love you, Lily. I will make this go away. Now, make some tea and forget about it.”

“I’ll try.”

“I don’t like you being alone. Do you want me to fly up there? We can talk, work some things out.”

She hesitated. “Yes, Brad, please come.”

“I’ll catch the next plane.”

✦✦✦✦

Lily checked her hair in the mirror one more time. Why was she nervous? It was only
Brad coming by…yet he’d sounded so nice–like the old days, when they were dating and she didn’t have to cautiously measure his every word. He’d called her from the airport. She couldn’t believe how fast he had taken care of the lawsuit with her father. It had magically disappeared, and he’d said he’d find a way to pay the back taxes and handle everything.

She went back into the kitchen to check the oven. Dark coffee, half and half, his favorite cinnamon scones turning a golden brown. A nice afternoon treat. What am I thinking?  This isn’t a date. Why am I going through all this trouble?  Do I still care about him? A flicker of hope kindled in her heart. She fantasized about keeping the family together. A baby.  A golden dog playing fetch in the emerald yard. The phone broke her reverie. I hope he’s not going to be late or not show up at all.

“Lil, it’s Jude. Is he there yet?”

Lily released her held breath. “Not yet, but any time now.” Telling Jude had been hard, but she wanted any support she could get.

Jude continued, “Well, remember, keep your guard up.”

“He’s being great so far.”

Jude interrupted. “I know, I know. Just call me when he leaves, ok?”

Jude sounded concerned. She might be right. This was a foolish move. Her mind was so fuzzy she could barely think. Lily stared at the old grandfather clock that dominated the parlor and listened to its low, steady tick tock, tick tock, like her heartbeat…like a bomb.

Tires hit the gravel in the driveway, and through the picture window she watched dust fly into the air. Brad parked the BMW convertible in front of the entrance, like a limousine arriving for a pick up. The sound of his steps mounting the porch sent a spasm shooting through her solar plexus, noticeably not reaching the few inches higher to her heart.

She opened the door. “’Morning, Brad.” She smiled and reached for the exquisite bouquet of lavender roses he held out to her.

Brad kissed her cheek and whispered, “See, Lily, I still remember your favorite flower.”

He followed her into the kitchen and sat at the old oak table, now covered with lace, silver, and china. “You always could set an elegant table. Just one of your many talents.”

Lily busied herself serving coffee and warm cinnamon rolls with homemade pumpkin butter. She placed a tangy Waldorf salad and a thick slice of Walla Walla onion quiche on the fine bone china plates that were so prized by her grandmother on the table, then sat down facing Brad. She tossed her food around the plate nervously, hardly able to eat, while Brad was obviously savoring each bite, stopping only to stare into her eyes.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to sit beside you and share a homemade meal,” he said. He took her hands in his.  “Lily, I’ve missed you. I’ve been so lonely without you.” His grip tightened. “I want you to come home. With me. As soon as possible.”

Her words caught in her throat. The chair, the room, and even her breath were closing in on her now. Ian’s face flashed before her, his smile, the longing in his eyes.

Brad continued. “Lily, you
know
I love you.” His pitch rising. “Please, I’ll do
anything
you want. A baby, even a dog, if you’ll just come home.”

Home,
Lily thought. She wanted to go home. She always had, since she was a little girl. Their house in Brentwood flashed across her mind–safe, perfect, grand, but
home
? 
Brad had managed to keep it from foreclosure…for now. Lily turned her fingers in her hair and looked at the man across the table. She saw a little boy, the pain in his eyes, like a sad puppy. She knew the depth of his anguish from growing up so lost, almost homeless, hungry. How could she say no to him?  He’d suffered so much loss, as had she.  Perhaps together…?

Brad touched her cheek. “Lily, my Lily. I need you.” She stood up and went to him, nestled in his lap. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her lips.  And just held her.

Momentary safety filled her being. At what price? a voice in her head whispered.

After breakfast, Lily showed him around the house and gardens. Brad kept his arm around her as they surveyed the property.

“This was my grandmother’s parlor,” she said. “When I was a little girl, we’d cut out paper dolls here and have tea parties.”

Brad wandered over to the mahogany china cabinet. “This looks like an old piece. Could be worth some money. Have you had it appraised?”

“Brad! I can’t sell these things. They’re all I have left of my grandmother’s memory. See this white china horse here?  It’s almost a hundred years old. Grandma Maggie played with it, my mother played with it, and I used to take it out on the porch and pretend I rode it away to a magical place.”

She walked over to the Italian hand-painted Ginori Ruby and Pink Carnation plates. “See these antique plates on the wall? Grandma Maggie served me her scrumptious French toast on these and…..”

Brad interrupted. “I get it, Lily. But really, you’ll have to start thinking about what you’ll do with all this
stuff
when you move back.”

Lily got very quiet. This
stuff
, this place, and everything in it, was a part of her, the self she was just getting to know…and like. She straightened her spine and took a step towards him. “I don’t remember giving you a definite answer, Brad.”

His face paled and he moved quickly to hold her. “Sorry, Lily. I mean it. Whatever you want.”

Her body stiffened in his arms. His hands felt cold on her skin. He crushed his lips against her mouth, moaning her name. Everything in her fought for release, for air, for freedom. She pushed him away. “So, Brad, just what were your plans for
my
bed and breakfast here on Madrona Island?”

“Well, I thought we could sell it and take the money and buy a great beach house in Malibu, just like you always wanted.”

“No, Brad. That was what
you
always wanted. Do you even have any idea what
I
want?”

He took a deep breath and tried to mask his strain with a smile. “I’m trying, Lily. Certainly you don’t plan to stay cooped up here, isolated, with nothing but old memories forever? I thought we could move on to a new life together.”

It all became clear to her then… If they sold the bed and breakfast, the proceeds from the sale would co-mingle as community property, and he would have his hands on her money and, with it, her future. She looked closely behind the little boy veneer. He was still the same self-centered, controlling man he’d always been. He had just put on a new mask. His needs, his wants, the child and dog were an empty promise to lure her back. He’d taken advantage of her in a weakened moment, and she had allowed it.

“I need to take some time and think about your offer. I’m not ready to make any
decisions,” Lily said.

“You want me to wait
how long?
Come on, come back with me now. I have the car, we could pack a few things.”

“No.” The strength in her voice astonished her.

Brad paused. “No
now
? Or no
forever
?” he asked.

She saw his jaw tighten. The veins in his forehead began to throb. “You belong with me, Lily.” She stared past him out the window, noticed the sun playing on the water of the Sound, the light breeze moving through the pines. She loved those old lace curtains on that window, the polished oak floor still smelling as it did when she was a little girl.
This
was home.  What had she been thinking? It was time to stop letting men stand in her way.

“My life is here now. This is what I want.”

He stared at her, his face morphing from shock, to grief, to anger. “After I fixed everything for you, now you’re telling me to leave?”

“Consider what you did for me a parting gift. I won’t ask for anything else.”

He stared at her. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind. “Fine, you just stay here. But don’t call me if you can’t pay the bills or expect to see me except inside a courtroom.”

He stamped toward the door and yanked it open. The pain in his eyes was blazing. “I hope your knickknacks and old chintz keep you good company.”

He slammed the door on the way out, and for a split second, she longed to run and comfort him. But it would be like trying to comfort a rabid dog. It would only end up biting her and infecting her in the end. She watched him race away, and relief flooded her limbs and left her exhausted.

Lily, delicate flower, fragile…no more!  She imagined a tiger lily, bright with color, exotic and mysterious. She cleaned up the coffee cups and banged around the kitchen.

“How dare he!” she said, pacing the floor, “trying to get my own inheritance from my grandmother. My chance at an independent life, my own success. He thinks he can just pull that out from under me? He has underestimated his sweet Lily.

“No more,” she said with a grin. “Here, Lily, let me balance the checkbook, it’s too much for you. You just write the checks and look pretty.” He took care of everything, alright, like I was some prize possession he kept for display.

Her inner boiling point erupted, and the feeling of release left her charged with energy. It was all crystal clear now. No matter what obstacle presented itself, she would find a way to make it work here, with the bed and breakfast. She would tear the place apart if she had to and find that brownie recipe too.

✦✦✦✦

Brad gunned the engine and raced down the curving dirt road, forcefully changing gears, grinding them the way he was grinding his teeth. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He entered the highway, accelerating too briskly, topping seventy-five miles an hour on the country road. “Damn her! Dammit Lily! What are you thinking?” He was panting. His stomach churned. Every muscle in his body was knotted and ready to spring. “I can’t even breathe on this accursed island.”

He rolled the roof down, trying to get some fresh, cool air to bring down the heat of his body. Over and over he replayed the scene with Lily in his mind…he had lost…he
had lost her.  Furiously, he blinked his eyes, trying desperately to stop the oncoming tears. He downshifted, slammed on the brakes, and made a hard turn down a small forested lane. The car slid to the side of the road, and he threw open the door and ran to a tree, bracing himself with one hand as the contents of his stomach rebelled and forced their way out and onto the fern-covered soil. There seemed no end to the heaves, which ultimately became dry and empty. Finally, he sank to his knees and covered his eyes with his moist palms. Guttural moans turned to tears. He choked, rambled, “Lily, my Lily…alone, always alone…there’s no one.” Tears washed down the well-groomed face, and like a little boy, he used his sleeves to wipe his eyes and nose. “She’s mine. If I can’t have her….” He leaned back against the cedar tree; the bark felt comforting, and the cool moist earth crept up through is slacks.