Читать книгу A Year And A Day - Inglath Cooper, Inglath Cooper - Страница 10

AS A SENIOR in high school, Audrey took a job with the Colbys, the most affluent family in Lanier, Georgia. They could trace their bloodlines to the earliest records in the courthouse, and Martha Colby took great pride in running her home in much the same way her husband’s ancestors had. Even though Audrey had originally been hired to work two evenings a week and every Saturday, her hours had continued to increase when one of the housekeepers had to leave.

Audrey didn’t mind working extra. While she liked her actual classes, she didn’t enjoy the social aspects of school. Up until junior high, she had liked everything about it and had looked forward to running track.

But then her body had started to change, and along with it, the rest of her life as well. In her freshman year, her bra size went from 34 A to 36 C. At five-three, Audrey was small-framed, petite even, and the change was more than noticeable. Suddenly, boys treated her differently. She hated the look in their eyes, detested the snickers that followed her down the hall. But worst of all were the nicknames she heard bandied about behind her back, the suggestive remarks the boys made when she walked by. One day, she’d gone into biology class and found one of those nicknames carved into the top of the desk.

She’d left the class and called her mom to come and get her, claiming she had a stomachache. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on her bed, humiliated.

Her mother came into her room, smoothing a hand over her hair. “What is it, honey? What’s wrong?”

Audrey turned over, unwelcome tears welling in her eyes. “I hate school, Mama. I don’t want to go back.”

“It’s the changes in your body,” her mother said softly. “Am I right?”

Audrey bit her lip, before admitting in a low voice, “It’s awful.”

Sarah Williams took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it between both of hers. “Oh, baby, you’ve just matured faster than some girls. Do you know how many women would love to have your figure?”

“I’m not a woman. And the boys make fun of me.”

Her mother pressed her lips together. “That’s because they’re immature and don’t know any better.”

“Please don’t make me go back.”

“Audrey.” Her mother’s voice held a note of wistfulness as if she wished she could snap her fingers and take the pain away. But she couldn’t. And they both knew it. “It won’t last forever, honey. The older you get, the better things will be. I promise.”

In a way, she was right. Audrey wore clothing that helped to conceal her figure, loose-fitting blouses and jumpers. She never wore sweaters or anything that remotely emphasized her breasts. The nicknames ceased. At least where she could hear them. But the boys were still interested in one thing. And after a few dates that resulted in little more than fumbling and groping, she decided dating wasn’t for her.

Instead, she threw herself into her schoolwork and had so far maintained the highest GPA in her class. She spent her free time painting—mostly portraits, scenes from small-town life. She loved the mystery of a blank canvas, starting out with nothing but white space and capturing a moment of time there.

Halfway through her senior year she went to work for the Colbys, and although she got a little less sleep than before, it was worth it to have the extra money. She’d recently been accepted at Georgia State. Going to college was important to her. No one else in her family had ever been. Her mother and father were counting on her to be the first. Money was tight, though. Her father had worked in a lumber mill for the past twenty years, and her mother took in sewing and alterations in addition to her job at the local Rexall. Audrey wanted to help with her tuition so she took as many extra hours as she could.

One afternoon, Mrs. Colby asked her to dust in the library. With its walnut-paneled walls and inviting reading lamps, it was a room she could have spent weeks in without ever leaving. She wiped each of the frames positioned on the round tables, handling them with care. An eight-by-ten photo in a pewter frame caught her eye. A young man with glossy black hair and smooth, dark skin, smiled up at her, his eyes hinting at self-assurance. The Colbys’ only son, Jonathan. She’d heard of him through her older brother. Jonathan Colby was a local icon of sorts, the rich kid who went to boarding school and moved away after college.

Audrey rubbed at the glass on the photograph, then placed it back on the table. But her gaze lingered on his handsome face, and she wondered if he ever came home.

After that day, she found herself thinking about him. In school while the teacher was lecturing. At night when she turned off her lamp and lay in bed. She wondered what it would be like to go out with someone older and more mature, unlike the boys in school.

Jonathan Colby remained snagged in her thoughts, even though she’d never met him, even though he was older by ten years or so.

But on the following Tuesday, she forgot all of her arguments about putting him from her mind. She was in the kitchen helping Mary, an older woman who had been with the Colbys for years as a housekeeper. Mary touched a hand to the grey braid wound into a coil at the nape of her neck. “We’ll have to get the house extra clean this week,” Mary said. “Mrs. Colby says Jonathan is coming home over the weekend. She’s having a dinner on Saturday night for him. She asked me to check with you about working late.”

The dish in Audrey’s hand clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said, bending over to pick it up, grateful that it hadn’t broken. “I’ll be glad to.”

Mary sent her a knowing look and then said with a chuckle, “Jonathan always did have that effect on the girls.”

It was the slowest week of Audrey’s life. She thought the weekend would never arrive. On Saturday afternoon, she took extra care getting ready. Standing back and looking at herself in the mirror, she decided that she looked older, a little more sophisticated.

Once she arrived at the Colby house, Audrey was a batch of nerves, her stomach tightening every time the kitchen door swung open.

When it was time to serve dessert, Audrey followed Mary into the dining room where the din of conversation rose and fell around the twelve-person table.

She kept her eyes on the serving cart, too nervous to look up.

“Could you put one of these in each bowl, Audrey?” Mary asked, handing her some silver spoons.

“Sure,” she said, glancing at the head of the table and spotting him for the first time. To his right sat a dark-haired girl laughing at something he’d just said close to her ear. Audrey couldn’t look away from the two of them. He was every bit as handsome as his photo. More so. And the girl beside him was tall and striking in an off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress.

Audrey started to turn, but he glanced up just then and caught her gaze. Her cheeks went warm, the blush spreading across her whole body. He didn’t look away for several long seconds, and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of interest in his laughing blue eyes.

She moved toward his end of the table and placed the spoons in each bowl, feeling his eyes upon her still. Gripped with shyness, she could not bring herself to glance up again.

A few minutes later, she escaped to the kitchen. Once there, she wet a paper towel with cool water and pressed it to her cheeks. She’d spent the week fantasizing about a guy she’d never met, had only seen a picture of. And now that she’d seen him in real life, with an infatuated girl beside him, she felt… What? Disappointed. The ridiculousness of the admission did not escape her.

Mary returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. “So what did you think?”

“Of what?” she asked, continuing to scrub the pot in the sink without looking up.

“Young Jonathan, of course.”

“Oh. He’s very handsome.”

“And as usual, he’s got a new young lady with him tonight.” Mary shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll ever settle down. He’s too busy sampling.”

It was after 1:00 a.m. by the time the two of them had everything washed and put back in place.

“That should about do it,” Mary said, wiping her hands on her apron. “You go on home now. Will you be all right by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” Audrey reassured her.

“See you at eleven tomorrow?”

“Okay,” she said, letting herself out the kitchen door. Getting in her mother’s old green Falcon, she turned the key in the ignition. An awful grinding noise rang out like gunshots in the quiet neighborhood.

She tried it again, but this time the noise was worse. A knock sounded at the window. Audrey jumped, one hand to her throat. Jonathan peered down at her, smiling. Her heart started pounding in her ears.

“Mind if I give it a try?” she heard him ask through the closed window.

This wasn’t exactly how she’d envisioned the two of them meeting. But grateful for his help, she nodded and got out. He slid behind the wheel. When the same thing happened after two tries, he said, “I don’t think it’s going anywhere tonight.”

“I think you’re right,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. His face had relaxed into a kind smile, and she noticed that he had a smudge of red lipstick on his collar. Apparently, he’d just gotten back from taking his date home.

“I don’t think we got properly introduced,” he said. “I’m Jonathan Colby.”

“Audrey Williams.”

He looked at her and said, “Audrey. I’ll be glad to give you a lift. You can leave the car here tonight.”

Something inside her thrilled at the thought. But she didn’t want him to feel obligated to take her. “I can call a cab.”

“It’s not a problem.”

She hesitated, before saying, “If you’re sure you won’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He smiled at her then, looking exactly like the man in the photograph she’d been fantasizing about all week.

AUDREY’S HOUSE was approximately twenty-five minutes away, on the other side of town. For once, she was glad of the distance. Sitting in Jonathan Colby’s BMW with late-night radio playing in the background was like something she might have dreamed. The tan leather seat felt like butter against her skin, and he had the sunroof open, leaving a square of stars visible above them.

“How long have you been working for my parents?” he asked as they backed out of the driveway and then sped down the tree-lined street.

“A few months.”

“I thought you must have started since the last time I was home. I would have remembered you.”

The words made her heart beat a little faster. It would be foolish to read anything into them, but his smile made her think he’d meant them as a compliment. “Your mother’s very nice,” she said, looking down at her lap.

“Yes, she is,” he agreed, the smile suddenly disappearing. “Are you in college?”

“I’m a senior. In high school,” she said, flattered.

He slowed for a stop sign, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. “You could have fooled me.”

Again, the remark found its spot in her heart, and she smiled at him. “You live in Atlanta, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I’m running an arm of Dad’s business there.”

“Do you like it? Atlanta, I mean.”

“Yeah. It’s a great town. There’s a lot to do.”

She didn’t want to tell him that she’d never been even though it was only four hours away. Her family hadn’t traveled much. Neither of her parents liked to stray too far from home.

They chatted for the duration of the drive to her house. She told him where to turn when they reached her street. He stopped in front of the driveway, flicking the car lights off.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

Audrey wished for a reason to linger. None of the guys she’d dated came close to this dark-haired, confident man.

“You have a boyfriend, Audrey?” he asked.

“No one special.”

“That’s surprising.”

She shrugged. “I’m going to college next year. And I work part-time. There’s not much room for anything else.”

“You’re smart to keep it that way for now.”

In that moment, Audrey was glad there was no one else. She sensed that if she shifted in his direction, he would have kissed her. But she didn’t have the courage to try it.

Unnerved by the awareness between them, she looked down at her lap and said, “Thank you for the ride, Jonathan. I really appreciate it.”

He put a hand on the steering wheel, and said, “No problem.”

“I’ll get my dad to come over in the morning and take a look at the car.”

“Will you be coming with him?”

She nodded. “I have to be there for work at eleven.”

“Good. Then I guess I’ll see you at lunch?”

She smiled. “I guess so.”

THE NEXT MORNING, Audrey’s father drove her to work and called a tow truck for her mother’s car. The Colbys came in from church just before twelve-thirty. Audrey’s stomach fluttered at the sound of their voices in the foyer. She could hear Jonathan’s low tones and felt a fresh rush of anticipation at the thought of seeing him again.

She followed Mary into the dining room, carrying steaming bowls of mashed potatoes and cream-style corn. Her gaze immediately found him, seated again at the far end of the table. The same dark-haired young woman sat next to him. Audrey’s heart dropped to the floor.

She tried not to look at him again and went about the business of putting food on the table, wanting only to finish so she could escape back to the kitchen. Once there, she ran her hand under the cool tap water and splashed a little on her face.

It was after three o’clock when the kitchen door swung open. She looked up from wiping the counters. Jonathan stood in the doorway, and she could not deny the gladness she felt at the sight of him. “Hi.”

He smiled at her. “Did you get your car fixed?”

She shook her head. “Dad had a tow truck pick it up.”

“Will you need a ride home then?”

“I’ll call him when I’m through here.”

“I’ll be glad to take you. I’ll be on my way out of town anyway. I’m heading back to Atlanta in a little while.”

Audrey hesitated, recalling Mary’s earlier warning. But even though she knew the woman was probably right, she found herself saying, “If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. I’ll go upstairs and pack up the rest of my things. How much longer will you be?”

“Twenty minutes or so?”

“I’ll meet you back here.”

Audrey called her mom and told her she had a ride home.

Jonathan was back in exactly twenty minutes. “I already said goodbye to my folks, so if you’re ready—”

“All set.” She reached for her sweater where she’d hung it earlier on the hook behind the door.

“Here, let me help.” He took the sweater and held it for her while she shrugged her arms inside. His hands grazed the side of her shoulders, sending unexpected sparks of electricity through her.

“Thank you,” she said, not meeting his gaze for fear that he would see awareness in her eyes.

“Do you have to be home right away?” he asked, once they were in the car.

The question surprised her. “Not right away.”

“Want to take a walk in the park?”

“Sure. I’d love to.”

He pulled over at a 7-Eleven, coming out a couple of minutes later with two Cokes and a bag of chips. “Not much of a picnic,” he said, “but it’s the best I can do on short notice.”

She laughed, thinking it was wonderful that he’d thought of it at all.

They parked on the street beside the entrance. Jonathan opened her door for her and pulled a blanket from the trunk. By the pond, Jonathan spread out the quilt, tossed the chips and Cokes in one corner and motioned for her to sit. She did, pulling her knees up in front of her chest.

He sat down beside her, plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers. “Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Hide yourself.”

She avoided his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The clothes you wear. The way you hunch your shoulders. The way you’re hiding behind your knees right now.”

Face hot, she kept her gaze on the grass in front of the quilt.

“You’re beautiful, Audrey,” he said. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that.”

They stayed for a good two hours, talking about his work, her hopes for the future. Despite their age difference, they shared many of the same interests, good books, art.

He didn’t kiss her that day, but she knew in her heart that he wanted to. He took her home a little before six, and she hated for the day to end, knowing she’d probably never see him again.

“Thank you, Jonathan,” she said when he stopped in her driveway. “For the ride. And the afternoon.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, watching her with considering eyes. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Handing her a business card, he said, “If you ever need anything—”

“Thanks. Have a good trip back.” She got out of the car and ran up the walk to her house.

FOR THE NEXT WEEK, she looked at the card every night before she went to bed. She debated about writing to him, talking herself out of it at least five times before deciding there wouldn’t be anything wrong with a thank-you note.

She went to the drugstore and bought a pack of stationery cards with a pond on the front and ducks standing by the water’s edge. She kept the note brief.

Dear Jonathan,

I just wanted to thank you again for taking me home last Saturday night and for the picnic on Sunday. I really enjoyed our conversation.

Audrey Williams

She agonized over sending it, but finally forced herself to put it in the mailbox and push it from her mind.

Four days later, she heard back from him.

Audrey,

I’m coming home next weekend. If you don’t have to work Saturday night, I’d love to take you out for dinner. If you’d like to go, give me a call at the number on the card I gave you.

Jonathan

Audrey reread the note three times before letting herself believe it was true.

She ran to her room and pulled the card out of her jewelry box where she’d hidden it. She went downstairs to the phone in the kitchen and dialed the number.

THAT AFTERNOON, she went into the den where Mrs. Colby was having tea and knocked at the door. “Excuse me, Mrs. Colby?”

“Yes, Audrey?”

“May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course. Come in.” She put down her cup and motioned for Audrey to sit opposite her on the sofa. “What is it, dear?”

“I wondered if I might have next Saturday night off.”

Mrs. Colby smiled. “A young man, I presume? As pretty as you are, I’m surprised you don’t need every Saturday night off. Of course you may.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Colby,” Audrey said, smiling in relief. She wondered what the woman would think if she knew Audrey was having dinner with her son and felt a stab of guilt for not telling her. But maybe that was Jonathan’s place.

Mrs. Colby reached for the teapot, refilling her cup. “You’re welcome, dear. You’ve done an awfully good job for us. I hope you know we appreciate it.” She leaned forward to put the pot back on its tray. The neckline of her dress slipped aside, revealing an almost blackish bruise on her left shoulder. It was horrible looking, the worst bruise Audrey had ever seen.

“Mrs. Colby,” she said, before she could stop herself. “What happened?”

The older woman jumped, her cup clattering in its saucer. With her free hand, she hastily pulled the dress back in place, her expression closing like a door to a storm wind. “I slipped on the terrace steps the other day and landed on my shoulder. I’m afraid it left an awful bruise.”

“Oh,” Audrey said. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, dear. I’ve had worse falls than that,” she said. “Now, if that’s all, I’m sure Mary is wondering where you are.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Audrey said, then went back to the kitchen. She didn’t think about the incident anymore until that night after she’d gone to bed. There was no reason not to believe Mrs. Colby. But something about the way she’d acted hadn’t felt right, as if she were trying to hide something. She thought of Mr. Colby, the few times she’d passed him in the house, his face stormy, as if he were always angry about something.

For a moment, just a brief moment, Audrey wondered about their relationship, and whether Mr. Colby had anything to do with the bruise on his wife’s shoulder.

But that was crazy. Jon Colby was a highly respected member of the community. And Mrs. Colby didn’t seem like the kind of woman to put up with something like that.

Audrey put the questions from her mind and focused on her upcoming dinner with Jonathan.

It was a mistake she would live to regret.