Annabelle Fading into Him #2
Everyone around the table laughed, including D-daddy.
That one-syllable grunt, maybe even more than his infectious laugh or quick wit, was the thing we all associated most with our grandfather and father.
It meant he didn’t approve of what you were doing, but he loved you, so he’d deal with it anyway.
“When she walked through my door holding the hand of a man I’d never seen, when we were all planning parties for her and Holden, I’d like to say I was confused,” Lovey said.
“But when you’ve been around eighty-seven years, there’s not much left to confuse you.
” Lovey smiled adoringly at Ben. “But I loved you right off for how you talked to Dan and shook his hand and factored him into the equation.”
Ben put his arm around me and pulled me close. I dropped my head on his shoulder, willing the tears not to come to my eyes, wishing that things could go back to the way they had been when I was little and D-daddy was so alive.
“I’d heard so much about him,” Ben said. “I felt like I knew him already.”
That rarely emerging voice piped up from the end of the table, shakily, but D-daddy’s no doubt. “You couldn’t have heard too much about me because I hadn’t heard a damn thing about you.”
Then D-daddy laughed and we all joined him.
“My thoughts exactly, Daddy,” Mom chimed in, with a glee in her voice that only comes from D-daddy having a good day.
“But, Jean,” Ben started, innocence in his voice, “you handled the news so beautifully.”
“Oh, you weren’t thrilled?” Lauren teased.
“All I said,” Mom interjected, “was that we needed to have a wedding. I’m the mayor, for heaven’s sake. People expect things from me.”
That was the least of it. In reality, Mom had thrown a hissy fit like I’d never seen. The first words she said to my husband were, You got married? You stole the privilege of having a wedding for my only daughter?
“A wedding is a golden opportunity to get ahead in the polls,” Martha said, laughing.
“And just think,” Lauren said, looking at Ben. “That special day led to this special day.” She pointed at Ben’s now completely black eye, and we all laughed.
Ben looked down at me. “I’d take a million black eyes if it meant getting to be with you forever.”
I smiled at him. “Well,” I said, “good memories aside, I think wherever you feel most comfortable is where you should be, Lovey.” I paused. “Where are you moving? Have you started looking for places yet?”
She waved her hand as if to say that this was a minor detail.
“Well, there can’t be more than a place or two that’s even tolerable.
” She took a sip of the tea in front of her on the table.
“Speaking of,” Lovey said, “when are you two settling down and getting out of that RV?” Lovey shook her head. “It’s rather unseemly.”
I smiled at Ben. “Should we tell them?”
“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” Louise exclaimed.
I could feel that cloud unwillingly pass over me, but I smiled it away when Mom said, a panic-stricken look on her face, “She had three rum punches yesterday afternoon. I should hope not.”
“No, no,” Ben said, wrapping his arm around me tighter, knowing I would be upset from the baby comment. “You want to tell them?”
I smiled halfheartedly and, bracing myself for the reaction, said, “We’re moving to Salisbury.”
“Salisbury is a lovely town,” Lovey said. But I could tell her mind was somewhere else.
· · ·
Lovey always says that some things are out of our hands and that, if we’re going to make it through this life, we’d do well to figure out what those things are.
“I think it’s very mature of you to be so grown-up about your grandmother getting rid of her house,” Ben said, as he crammed his shorts and T-shirt into my beach bag.
I shook my head. “It’s only on the outside because, inside, I’m an absolute wreck.” Then I shrugged, thinking of Lovey. “But, you know, there isn’t anything I can do to change it, so it’s probably best to just face it.”
Ben wrapped me in that warm, sweet-smelling hug that had become my life preserver the past few months. “It’s going to be okay, you know. It’s going to be hard, but, at the end of the day, this is what’s best for them. And we’re all going to have to get on board.”
I sighed. “I know.” I kissed him, leaned back and said, “So, speaking of getting on board, when are we moving to Salisbury?”
Ben grinned. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
I rolled my eyes. “Then I need to get out of here immediately. I have some tanning to do.”
I should have stayed pale. I should have suggested that we go ahead and leave the beach so we could get a head start on house hunting and unpacking.
On my way to the bathroom at the club that morning, I nearly turned around and walked the other direction when I saw Holden.
But we were the only two people in the empty ballroom, so I couldn’t very well act like I hadn’t seen him.
I ventured a wave and turned sharply to the right, like I was headed out to the terrace.
“Could we talk for a minute?” Holden called.
I looked around, as though he could possibly be talking to anyone else. I was going to say no. I was going to walk back out onto the beach where my family was telling old stories and attempting to skim board, wobbling and falling down like children learning to walk.
I was going to, that is, until Holden said, “Come on, Annabelle, I think you owe me.”
He was right. I called off a wedding three years in the making with a thirty-second phone call and zero explanation. I owed him.
We walked inside the bar, chandeliers off and seating areas completely empty. I sat down on the couch, and he sat down right beside me. “Holden,” I said. “Can’t you sit across from me in the chair or something?”
If he heard me, he didn’t let on. “Ann,” he said, “I made a huge mistake letting you go. I want you back.”
I laughed. “Holden, no offense, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one who let you go.” I shook my head. “I’m married, for heaven’s sake.”
He snickered. “Please, Annabelle. You knew the guy for five minutes. Don’t tell me you’re happy with some washed-up, old musician.”
I could feel the anger rising up my spine, vertebra by vertebra, as Louise would say.
You could talk about me and you could talk about my choices.
But when you talked about my man, things got dicey.
I stood up, and I knew he could tell I was angry.
“I’ve had enough of this. Maybe you should have been worried about me a little more when you had me.
” I wanted to walk away then, but I couldn’t resist throwing one more jab before I turned.
“Ben has the good sense to know how to hold on to what he has.”
“I was immature and stupid, Annabelle. I’ve done a lot of growing up since then. I realize now that I should have treated you better.”
I wanted to stomp away, but I stopped and turned back toward Holden, noticing that he was wearing the Vilbrequin bathing suit I had given him for his birthday my senior year.
It was like knowing a bag of chocolates was in my pantry.
I wanted to close the door and lock it away, but I couldn’t resist finishing it.
“I should have fought for you then,” Holden said. “But I was too ashamed. I let my pride take away the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
I rolled my eyes, realizing it was difficult to look haughty in a somewhat sheer linen cover-up and flip-flops with bows on them. “This is never, ever going to happen, Holden, so I suggest you move on. It took meeting Ben to realize what I had been missing out on all this time.”
It was a cold, callous statement, and, as soon as it came out of my mouth, I wished I could roll it back up like loose toilet paper.
I wanted to say something more, to amend that horrible judgment, tell Holden that we did the best we could.
But I knew that, in his mind, if the curtains were fluttering in the breeze, I needed to slam the window or it was going to come open again and again and again.
“He’s going to hurt you, Annabelle,” Holden called as I walked out of the empty bar. “Everyone thinks so.”
I wanted to laugh indignantly, but the words pierced right through me, the spear he had thrown in retaliation for the arrow I shot.
It was the first time I had considered what it might be like to be without Ben, how devastated, confused and completely alone I would be if he changed his mind.
That was the benefit of being with someone like Holden.
He was good on paper, decent husband material, and if it all went down the tubes, then, oh well. My attachment was minimal.
But to think about being without Ben was like losing my limbs.
I loved him with a ferocity I’d never known before.
I would look at him when we were lying in bed at night, him peacefully snoring beside me, and I would consider the fact that he was a good deal older.
And I would start to panic. How would I ever live without him?
How would the breath enter and leave my body if Ben wasn’t there to regulate it?
And then I’d think of Lovey and D-daddy.
And I couldn’t sleep a wink.