Part One: Mart
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
The sun was still below the horizon as Mart guided his car into downtown Sleepyside. For weeks now, he had been meaning to put some particular plans into action. Work, friends, moving and study had unknowingly conspired to prevent him from doing anything before now. A cancelled class had given him a small window of opportunity and he had grasped it with both hands.
Months had passed since he had first come up with the idea. A chance conversation had peaked his curiosity and, reflecting on it now, opened his eyes to what he already knew. There was definitely something wrong in Sleepyside - of that much he was certain. The best way to tackle it had been something of a puzzle, but he was fairly sure that he had chosen the right path. Now, to follow that path, he thought, pushing open a rickety old door. And hope that no one sees me following it.
The door opened into the yard of an unoccupied office block, now used as storage for several businesses, including the First National Bank of Sleepyside. Mart knew, from conversations with his father, that many in town considered the security arrangements here inadequate. A quick check told him all he needed to know: the place was deserted and lit only by the floodlights of a neighbouring building.
Along one side of the yard ran a rough shed. It was stacked with row upon row of faded and battered cardboard boxes. Just visible on many were words such as ‘Destroy date: 12/31/99’. He ran his eyes across the stacks, looking for a pattern.
These are all from ’99, he thought, checking a few more boxes. Then, they go backwards in time as they go to the left, all the way back to ’92. To the right, they suddenly jump forward to 2003. He frowned, considering the implications. Next to the ’95s seems most safe. He dropped the carton he carried on top of a shorter pile, its faded label of ‘Confidential’ just visible. It’s started, he thought, as he walked back to his car. Now, I just need to make sure that somebody finds it.
His next stop was an ordinary house on a quiet street. The sky to the east was pale as Mart parked his car under a large tree and walked around the corner to his target. His cap, pulled well down to form a rough disguise, cast a shadow over his eyes. In the early morning dimness, he had to stop and make sure that he really had the right house. A thin envelope slipped out of the inside pocket of his jacket and he quickly slid it under the door before making a hasty retreat.
And now to wait, he thought, as he got back into his car. A short drive later, he stopped the car in a quiet spot. With any sort of luck, he would see no one in the few hours that he needed to stay here. From the back seat, he retrieved the breakfast he had packed before leaving and settled down to wait.
His final task for the morning was the most difficult. It was also the one that he was least confident of being able to pull off at the first attempt. When he had laid the original plans, he had allowed a contingency in the event that he failed. That was out of the question now, unless he sacrificed some study time.
He pulled the car into a parking spot, just across the road from the bank. Am I in time? he wondered, scanning the street. For fifteen minutes, he waited and watched. The bank door opened and a well-dressed man stepped out. He walked quickly away, nodding brusquely to various people that he met, before disappearing around a corner. Mart threw open the car door and stepped out.
Half a minute later, he was inside the bank. He took a place in line and waited for a teller. It wasn’t until he reached the front of the queue that he began to believe that this part of the plan might actually work.
“Hey, Sarah,” he said to the young woman on the other side of the counter. “How are things?”
“Fine. You?” she asked, clearly astonished at seeing him. All of the Beldens had stopped banking here after Peter’s retrenchment.
“Okay,” he replied. “Listen, this is kind of embarrassing, but I’m hoping you can help me.” He smiled sheepishly and she nodded. “I woke up in the middle of the night last night, absolutely certain that I had another bank account that I didn’t close and I just can’t shake the feeling. Could you, um, do a search on ‘Belden’ and just see if there is?”
“Sure,” she said, looking relieved. “Easy. I’ll just do that now.” Her fingers flew over the keys of her computer. “Let’s see. Nothing active. I’ll take a little look at the inactive accounts. You’d think that someone would have noticed, considering - well, anyway, I’ll look.”
“Thanks,” said Mart, leaning casually on the counter. The next teller walked to the other end of the counter. He dropped his voice a little. “There’s one other thing, while you’re looking. Can you tell me whether there was a change in procedures or reporting, sometime since my dad left here.”
“Inactive accounts,” said Sarah, firmly. Her eyes had widened at his question and she now determinedly looked away from him. “Nothing, unless you’ve been calling yourself by another first name. I’ll try one other thing. No, nothing. Is there anything else I can help you with, Mart?”
“No. That’s all, thanks, Sarah,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, with a genuine smile. She slid a piece of paper across the counter. “I think that’s yours.”
“What? Oh, yes - it is. Thanks!” He shot her a smile and walked out of the bank.
Right on the money, he thought, chuckling to himself as he drove back towards Winter Rock. I may just solve this one, yet.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Mart looked up with a start to see his girlfriend, a shy smile on her face. As she pushed his bedroom door shut and leaned against it, he noticed that she was holding an official-looking document.
“What is it?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry. “The advice from your lawyer?”
She nodded and handed it to him. “I won’t make you decipher the whole thing,” she said. “Basically, our options are to challenge it in court - which, I think you said, your family doesn’t want to do - or,” she paused, the shy smile returning to her face.
“What?” he whispered, almost unwilling to find out the answer.
“I’m not saying that we should do this,” she said, “just that we could, understand?”
“Please, Di, just tell me.”
“W-e-l-l,” she drawled, “there’s this one particular loophole in the will. It only says that you can’t cause someone to drop out of college because she’s pregnant, but if I dropped out first…”
“You could still get pregnant,” he replied. “That would still disqualify me.”
“Unless we were already married.”
Mart stared at her hard. If we were married? he thought, in shock. She wants us to get married? But she’s only eighteen! Di must have read the disbelief on his face, because she hurried to continue.
“I’m not saying we should do it right now,” she said, gently patting his arm. “It’s just something to think about for the future. The option is there in case we don’t think we can last the three years.”
He nodded, feeling numb.
The following evening, the girls retreated to their own half of the house for what they were calling a sleepover. The announcement had been greeted with laughing disbelief by the male members of the household, except Mart. He was glad for some time to think. He had settled in front of the television and was mindlessly watching when Dan interrupted.
“What’s eating you?” he said, dropping down next to Mart. “Had a fight with Di?”
“What? Not really. I mean, no!” He took a deep breath and continued, feigning calm. “No, everything’s fine with us. Really.”
“Sure,” his friend replied. “It’s perfectly normal for you to try to hide under the table every time she looks at you.”
“I did not-”
“I’m kidding,” Dan interrupted. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I don’t care. How about those Yankees.”
There was a long pause. “She said something that scared me, all right?” Mart said, finally. “I mean, I really like her - love her, probably, even - but I’m not ready for us to get… too serious. I don’t need serious right now.” Dan nodded, waiting. “But, part of me finds her idea… intriguing; attractive. I don’t want to feel that way.”
“And, so you’ve taken a step back from her?”
“I just need time to think. Re-establish my position. Put that idea out of my mind.”
“But if you’re… attracted to the idea-”
“I’m not ready to get married,” Mart said, in a harsh whisper.
“Whoa! Where did that come from?” asked Dan. “I thought we were talking about sex. Of course, you’re not ready for- that. I doubt I’ll ever be ready for it. Married? She’s got to be kidding, right?”
“It’s not as simple as that,” he muttered in reply. “There are… complicating factors.”
“Her father and a shotgun?” Mart let out a surprised laugh. “Whatever it is, get over it. There’s no way you should be thinking about marriage now.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” His voice was firm, but his thoughts turned another way. Then, why can’t I put it out of my head?
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
With one final look back towards the Riker residence, Diana slid behind the wheel of her car. For a long moment, Mart simply stood and looked at the place where she had been. It never failed to astound him how she could make the most simple movement look so graceful and yet so sexy at the same time. On the other hand, he thought, ruefully, she could be washing the dishes and I’d think that was sexy.
Sighing, he climbed into the front passenger seat. It had been a somewhat trying day. In life, Caroline Riker had been a distant figure - he could only recall meeting her twice. Her funeral had made Mart feel distinctly uncomfortable. The previous hour, spent in the family room of her house, had done nothing to improve matters. He wanted to get home, as quickly as possible.
“Thanks for agreeing to take me back to Sleepyside on the way,” said Dan, from the back seat. Mart started, having forgotten that his friend was there.
“It’s no problem,” said Di, as they pulled away from the curb. “It’s not far out of our way anyway, and I’m in no hurry to get home.”
Mart suppressed a groan. He had also forgotten about the proposed detour. For a few minutes he sat and sulked. Don’t want to go to Sleepyside, he said to himself. Don’t see why Dan needs to go, anyway. Regan could’ve posted whatever it was that we’re picking up. As time went by, however, his thoughts began to wander. That sure is a nice skirt that Di’s wearing, he thought, watching the way it rode up as she braked. It’d be nicer if it was a bit shorter.
Before he knew what was happening, they were pulling in to the Manor House driveway and Dan was opening his door.
“We’ll just wait here, I think,” Di suggested. Dan nodded in response.
“I won’t be long,” he said, slamming the car door behind him.
As soon as his friend’s back was turned, Mart leaned across and claimed Diana’s lips in a searing kiss. His whole being was consumed with desire for her. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew that this was not the right place or time, but he suppressed the idea with all his might. Finally, Diana pulled away.
“Not here,” she said, catching her breath. “When we get home… in my room…”
At once, the full knowledge of his situation hit Mart and he slumped forward. “Except that we can’t,” he said, in quiet tones which belied the turmoil he felt inside. He straightened, taking another long look at Di, before leaning in to whisper to her. “If it wasn’t for the will, do you know what I’d like to do?”
“Tell me,” she whispered, smiling.
He leaned closer, his lips right next to her ear, and started to describe his thoughts. Even as Dan approached he continued, his voice trailing away as the back door opened. He noted with satisfaction the look of wonder on Di’s face.
“Been having fun without me,” quipped Dan, as he refastened his seat belt. A package lay beside him on the seat. “Should I leave you to it?”
“Let’s get home,” said Di, looking at Mart and grinning. “I’ve got some things to do.”
“I’m not saying a word,” said Dan. “Not a single word.”
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Last on Mart’s list of ‘things I should have done long ago’ was, in his own mind, the hardest. On the way from Sleepyside to Winter Rock, just before the beginning of the semester, he had promised Dan that he would have a talk with Trixie concerning the rumours that Dan had heard. It hadn’t been an exciting prospect then; the idea had certainly not improved with age. Circumstances had been against him on previous attempts. This time, he was determined to get this unsavoury task out of the way once and for all. He lay in wait for her to return from class, knowing that Jim and Honey would both be away for another hour.
“Trixie,” he said, his voice firm and serious. “We need to talk. Now. Can you come to my room?”
“I guess,” she said, “but does it have to be now? I wanted to check my new Lucy message board, to see if there are any new posts.”
“I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks,” he said, his annoyance at having to actually have this conversation overwhelming him, “so, yes, it has to be now. Come on.”
She was seething by the time the door closed behind them. He could see that he was handling this all wrong, but somehow it seemed too late to stop.
“It has come to my attention,” he said, heavily, “that people in Sleepyside are talking about you. Apparently, there have been a number of incidents in which you have been seen with an unidentified man - in compromising positions. I think it would be best if you explained yourself.”
“What, exactly, are you accusing me of?” He recognised that dangerous tone. It was definitely too late to stop.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” he replied. “People are saying you’ve been cheating on Jim, in a very public manner. I’m asking if it’s true.” Her face was red and she was glaring at him. “Well, Trixie? Is it true?”
“Sounds like an accusation to me,” she said. On the outside, she was calming down, but Mart was sure that it was all show. Inside, she was angrier than ever. “Tell me, Mart,” she said, looking at him coolly, “what do you think is the nature of my relationship with Jim?”
“Wh-what?” he asked, caught off-guard. “What sort of question- Jim? He’s - well, he’s your boyfriend. Isn’t he?”
“My boyfriend. Such an indefinite term. It could mean almost anything.” She was almost sneering, now. “Try a little harder, Mart. You’ve got that enormous vocabulary. I’m sure you can think of a more fitting description.” He bit his lip and remained silent. “No? Then, I’ll help you. Perhaps a better term would be ‘lover.’”
“I don’t need to know that sort of stuff,” he said, with an anger that was beginning to match hers. “And it’s got nothing to do with this.”
“But it has everything to do with this,” she spat back. “What sort of person do you think I am, Mart? Would I have that sort of relationship with Jim and then betray him with some stranger? Would I humiliate him by doing it in public? Would I be able to pretend to him and to everyone else who lives here that everything was fine between us? Do you really think I could?”
“There must be something to it,” he yelled. “There are witnesses. How do you explain it?”
“It wasn’t me,” she ground out. “And if you’d talked to Dan anytime in the last couple of weeks, you’d know that.”
“What?”
“She looks like me. She’s going by my name. If I ever catch her, she’ll wish she was never born. And I’m going now. This conversation is over and I don’t ever want to hear that sort of thing from you again. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” he said to the bedroom door, as it slammed in his face. “And there’s no way I’m staying here. I need some air.”
Mart was still feeling a little annoyed with his sister when he arrived home that evening. He had been particularly proud of the fact that they had gotten on better in the last year or two, so that afternoon’s argument was something of a sore point to him. He entered the living room to find her, along with the rest of the household, engaged in a discussion of their plans for the evening.
“Greetings, all,” he said, trying to sound normal. “What’s to eat?”
“What you get,” his sister said, apparently trying to do the same. “You’re big enough to look after yourself, now. At least, I thought so.”
“True,” he said, striking a noble pose. “I am, as it happens, perfectly capable of supplying myself with sustenance of the highest quality. On the other hand, I was under the impression that the members of this household shared that inestimably important responsibility.” He paused, changing pose. “In other words, it’s not my turn.”
“In other words,” Trixie replied, “you were thinking that you’d relax in front of the TV while someone else slaved over a hot stove.”
“Peace, children,” Jim said, stifling a laugh. “Mart’s got a point. Is someone going to cook something?”
“Wasn’t thinking of it,” Dan said, smirking. “I cooked last night.”
“Honey and I cooked the night before,” Diana added, before anyone could question Dan’s definition of ‘cooked’.
“Brian and I, the night before that,” said Mart. “Which leaves our esteemed landlord and my favourite female sibling, Beatrix.”
“Just you watch out, Mart Belden,” the sister in question replied. “Moms might have a girl and then there’ll be two of us.”
“She would be welcomed, with open arms,” he said. “As would my food. Speaking of which…”
“Fine,” Trixie said. “I’ll look for something to cook.” Retiring to the kitchen, she did a quick survey of the food on hand. “No meat. No vegetables. No bread. No rice or pasta. Whose turn was it to do the groceries?” she asked. The only response was a selection of blank looks. “So, am I to understand that no one did any grocery shopping, and that no one actually knows who was supposed to do it?”
“Yep,” said Dan, hoisting himself onto the counter. “That’s about the size of it. So, what are we going to eat?”
“How does pickle peanut butter olive raisin ketchup casserole sound?” asked Trixie. “Or, would you prefer-”
“I think we’d better eat out,” said Honey, screwing up her nose. “Or order in. Anyone have a preference?”
“Eat out,” said Mart. “The new place on the corner of Main and Douglas. Someone told me you can get huge platters of food - all sorts of meat and cheeses, healthy salads for my Diana-”
“Yes, we get the idea. Lots of food, and they have a pool table. All in favour?” called Trixie. She was greeted with a chorus of ‘ayes’. “Against? Then, that’s carried. Who wants to drive?” A short discussion settled the matter and the group scattered to get ready.
“Trixie?” Mart said, as his sister headed to her room. “Can we have a word?” She nodded, looking solemn. “Let’s bury the hatchet, okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that stuff. I should have known you better.” Still, she said nothing. “In fact, I did know better. I told Dan that it wasn’t true, but when I had to ask you… I got a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”
“‘A bit carried away’?” she asked. “Mart, you’re lucky I didn’t deck you. You had a nerve saying those things to me. Especially after some of the things I know you’ve done.” She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll forgive you this time, but if you ever-”
“I won’t.”
“Good,” she said. “Now, let’s go get ready. I’m starved.” She smiled and his heart felt lighter. Amazing what a little forgiveness can do, he thought, walking away.
Minutes later, they were on their way. In the back of Brian’s car, Mart put his arm around Diana and drew her close. She had changed her clothes before they left and he was having trouble keeping his eyes off her. In a slight departure from her usual purple, the well-fitting T-shirt she wore was a shade of royal blue.
“I like that colour on you,” he whispered, forcing himself to meet her eyes. “And I like how that shirt fits. It really shows off your curves.” She smiled her thanks, leaning in to kiss him softly.
“A little less of that in the back,” Brian said, a smile in his voice. “No distracting the driver.”
“You keep your eyes on the road,” Mart retorted, kissing Diana again. “Nothing to see back here.”
Arriving at the cafe, Brian found a parking space and they all went inside. They met the others at the door and had soon piled into a large corner booth. Mart found himself in the furthest corner, between Honey and Diana.
“Hey, how am I supposed to get out of here?” he joked. “A man could starve waiting for all of you to get out of the way.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” his girlfriend said, patting his leg. She might have said something else, but it was lost to him as his attention narrowed to that one sensation.
“Earth to Mart,” was the next thing he heard. His sister was talking. “We’re deciding what to order. Should we get anything for you?”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. I think we should get-” he picked up the menu, “- this first platter here, with the breads and dips… oh, and the one with the hot food. That sounds pretty good, actually. And the one with all the healthy stuff on it - for Diana. And fresh fruit sounds good. And I’d like the sweet one, as well.”
“Will that be all?” Honey asked, giggling. “There are still one or two other things on the menu.”
“It will be ample,” he replied, loftily.
“So will you, if you eat all that,” said Trixie, sotto voce.
“I think,” said Honey, with her usual tact, “that we might have the hot savouries platter, the salad platter and the fresh fruit platter. Does that sound all right to everyone?”
There was a chorus of approval and they soon made their order. After a short wait, it arrived and the whole group agreed that Mart’s friend had made a good recommendation. Slowly, the piles of food diminished until there was nothing left.
“I couldn’t fit another thing in,” said Dan, pushing his plate away. “Who wants a game of pool?”
“Me!” said Di. “Honey and I’ll take on you and Mart.”
The group moved towards the pool table, which had just been vacated, and found places to sit and watch. Mart was feeling quite satisfied and pleasantly sleepy after his big meal, so the events that followed took him completely by surprise. He watched, almost carelessly, as the game began. Shots were made and balls dropped into pockets. Everything was completely normal until it came to his girlfriend’s turn.
Taking a moment to survey the table, Diana selected a cue. An instant later, Mart’s insides turned themselves in knots as she smiled slowly and leaned down to make her shot. She’s doing that on purpose, he thought, as she slid the cue back and forth a few times. She’s taking way too long. I just knew I shouldn’t have told her what I was thinking that day in the car. This isn’t pool, it’s her personal form of torment.
Her turn ended and the game proceeded. No one else seemed to have noticed anything wrong and, for a few minutes, Mart wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. When next she took up a cue, he changed his mind. This is definitely torture, he decided. She’s in that position on purpose. When she stands like that, I can see right down - don’t look! Oh. Too late.
He was so distracted that he completely missed his next turn until Dan thumped him. The cue ball missed completely and sailed into the corner pocket. Mart felt a blush creeping up his face as his sister snickered quietly behind him. He did not have to worry about another turn: the game was quickly won by Diana and Honey.
“Home, everyone?” asked Brian, with the pretence of giving them a choice.
A reluctant chorus of agreement went around, followed by the hurried gathering of belongings. Mart managed to manoeuvre himself into a back seat next to Diana, and used the opportunity to kiss her thoroughly. What seemed like a moment later, they were home again and everyone was scattering to their various rooms. Without a word, he led her into his own room, hoping all the while that no one would notice, yet hardly caring if they did.
The bedroom door closed behind them with a bang and Mart pressed Diana to it with his body. Their lips met once again, as his hands roamed her body and they both fought for enough air. Moments later, he turned his attention to her neck, his excitement building as she moaned into his ear.
Her tight-fitting T-shirt, which had distracted him all evening, made its way upwards as his hands travelled underneath it. Frustrated, he pulled away for long enough to tug it over her head and reveal a lacy bra.
“Let’s move to the bed,” said Di, her voice husky. Her hands moved to remove his shirt even as she led the way across the room.
Mart followed willingly, his shirt joining Di’s on the floor before he lowered himself on top of her. A shiver ran through him, as skin met skin. He kissed his way down her body, his hands feeling the way ahead, until he came up against the lace of her bra. For a few long moments, he ran his hands over her before reluctantly pulling away.
“We have to stop,” he told her, his eyes squeezed tight shut. “I’m sorry, Di. I have to stop while I can still remember why I need to.”
Her handbag had somehow landed close to the bed and she reached down to grab it by the strap. After a moment’s rummaging, she found what she was looking for.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as she shoved the small item into his hand.
“It’s a condom,” she said. “Take your clothes off and I’ll show you how it works.” He drew in a ragged breath and rolled off her. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“No,” he breathed. He pulled back further, breaking all contact. “I can’t risk it. We’ve got to stop.” The bed shifted and he deduced that she had sat up. Her voice, when she next spoke, told him that she felt as disappointed as he did.
“We haven’t even gone three weeks,” she said. “There’s no way we can last three years.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice carrying a lost quality that sounded strange to his own ears. “I don’t know what else to do, though. We can’t really get married now, can we? I mean, I’m nineteen. I’m supposed to be enjoying myself.”
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, with a giggle.
Mart opened his eyes and looked at her. She was sitting at the head of the bed, cross-legged. Her beautiful hair covered much of her chest, but he could see the dark outline of the lace against her fair skin as it dipped into her generous cleavage. All at once, marriage seemed like a great idea.
“We could stay living here,” he said, not noticing that he hadn’t answered her question. “We wouldn’t need to make too many changes - just move into the same room. Then, after the three years are up and I’ve got the money, you could go back to college.” He stopped suddenly and looked right into her eyes. “But, if we get married, it’s a forever kind of thing, right? No second thoughts in a few years’ time.”
“Forever,” she agreed. “And, I don’t mean to go into it lightly, if that’s what you’re thinking. Before we decide anything, we need to talk about it - and not at a time like this, either.”
“Go, now,” he said, with a groan. “We’ll talk tomorrow, so you’d better start thinking about all of the questions you want to ask me.”
She slipped her shirt back on and smoothed her hair. With a quick peck on the lips, she was gone and Mart collapsed onto the bed, face up. I must be mad to even think about this, he tried to tell himself. A slow smile crossed his face. Being mad is a small price to pay, if I get to be with Di.
Lunch time, the following day, found Mart and Di in their favourite picnic spot by the lake. A cool breeze was blowing over the water and the area was almost deserted as a result, which suited them perfectly. Mart knew that he had things to say which he intended for Diana’s ears only. He suspected that she had similar thoughts about him.
“Can we talk now, or do you want to wait until after lunch?” she asked, as she unpacked sandwiches, fruit and sodas.
“Now, I guess,” he replied, eyeing the food hungrily. “What do you want to talk about first?”
“I made a list,” Di said, handing it to him. “Choose something and we can start.”
“We’re going to talk about all of this today?” he asked, alarmed. “I don’t know the answers to half these things!”
Di giggled and set a sandwich down in front of him. She said: “Start with what you know.”
“How about this one: Where do I see myself in ten or twenty years’ time? I see myself with you,” he said. “Always.”
“Well, that’s a good start,” she said, smiling. “I see myself with you, too. But that’s not exactly what I meant. I was actually thinking of something a little more specific, like your career and family and geographic location.”
“Right,” said Mart, with a big grin. “In twenty years, I’ll be CEO of the biggest company in the world, having taken over your father’s and Mr. Wheeler’s companies, as well as some other less significant places, like Microsoft, and we’ll have twenty-seven palatial homes, scattered all over the globe. Does that sound like us?”
“Not at all,” she replied, thumping his arm. “Seriously, Mart, where do you see yourself?”
“Wherever you want me to be,” he said, looking into her eyes. “If what I just described is what you want, I’m there. On the whole, though, I’d rather that in twenty years we had our own little house somewhere and a couple of kids.”
“And if there’s more than just a couple?” she asked, looking anxious. “I do have a family history of multiple births, you know.”
“Not to mention my family history of accidental pregnancies,” he added. “You think you’re destined for a big family? That’s okay. I like kids. If you got to choose, though, Di, how many would you have?”
“How does four sound?”
Four? He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring. Could be a whole lot worse, he told himself. She could have said ten.
“I can live with four,” he said. “And I can live with the fact that intentions don’t always work out. But, we’d wait until a lot later, wouldn’t we?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, a look of shock crossing her face. “Not until I’m at least twenty-five.”
Well, that’s a relief, he thought. That’s at least seven years away. I’m not ready to be a father just yet. With an effort, he turned his mind back to the mental list he had made.
“So, what about your career?” he said. “If we do this, you’ll be putting it on hold for years. Can you really do that and live with yourself?”
“Easily,” Di said, with a short laugh. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life, career-wise. Maybe, by the time I’m ready to go back, I’ll know what I want.”
“You’re sure about that, Di? If we do this, there’s no turning back.”
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice quiet, but firm. “I love you, Mart, and I’m willing to prove it.”
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Mart stood in front of the bathroom mirror and checked his appearance for the seventh time. Just relax, he told himself, also for the seventh time. It’s going to be fine. We’ll go to the restaurant and eat our meal. Then, we’ll drive to the lake and I’ll ask her and she’ll say ‘yes.’ He patted the pocket which held the ring, relieved to feel it still there. Ready. After one final look, he turned resolutely and strode out into the living room.
The sight which greeted him took his breath away. Diana was standing in the doorway, wearing a new dress. The soft material, in a purple so deep that it was almost black, clung to her generous curves. She looked up and their eyes met.
“My lady,” he said, reaching out to take her arm. Across the room, an interested audience was watching. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now. I’m so glad that it’s me you’re going out with.”
“Then, let’s go,” she whispered back, “before someone else tries to steal my handsome man.”
The short drive to the restaurant passed in a dream, as did the meal. At the end of it, Mart was pleasantly full, but had little recollection of what he had actually eaten. He got back behind the wheel and they drove in a comfortable silence.
“Where are you taking me?” Diana asked, lightly.
“You’ll see,” he replied. She knows, he thought. Just two words and she knows. This is right. I just know it.
The car drew into the small parking lot above the park. From here, you could see down through scattered trees to the lake, which shimmered in the moonlight.
“We’ll stay near the car, this time,” he said, softly, “but I thought this would be a good place to talk.”
“It’s always served us well before,” Diana replied. She opened her door and stepped out. “How about over here?”
Mart nodded and followed her to a park bench, which stood alone at the top of the slope. His hand patted the pocket, which held the ring, and he sat down, reassured. He took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.
“I love you, Diana,” he said. “Will you marry me?”
Part Two: Dan
Saturday, September 25, 2004
As Dan headed out into the back yard he heard Honey’s aunt booming, “Tell him she is not available. Get back in that car, Madeleine.” He shuddered silently and quickened his steps towards a bench which stood out of sight of the house, hidden in the shrubbery.
Moments later, he stopped. Through the dense branches he could just make out a patch of blue. Was someone there already? He crept quietly around to the other side of the seat. A young woman was sitting there. As he watched, she ran a hand through unruly blonde curls.
That can’t be Trixie, Dan said to himself, knowing that she could not possibly have gotten there ahead of him. But, it sure looks like her. I bet she’s the one I saw going into the guest house. Springing out suddenly, he caught her by the arm and she turned towards him in shock. Not really like her, he amended to himself. What on earth is going on here?
“Wh- who are you? And what are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes wide with fright.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he replied.
“I’m- I mean, I’m not-” she said, looking wildly around. “I’ve got to go.”
“Not until I’ve had an explanation,” he said, tightening his grip. “Starting with Lanie’s Guest House. You’re staying there, right?”
“H-how did you know that?” she squeaked.
“And you were in Sleepyside, right? Acting like a slut.”
Her free hand swung towards his face, but he caught it at chest height.
“Let me go,” she said, trying to wrench her hands free. “I didn’t do anything.”
Dan pulled at her arm until it was high above her head, her sleeve falling out of the way. His eyes took in the track of small red dots along it, and the familiar look in her eyes. He thought that the shape of her figure could tell him something else about her, but he wasn’t sure. He let the arm fall.
“Th-thank you,” she said. “C-can I go, now?”
His fingers gently snagged a delicate gold necklace, which lay around her neck. “Morgan,” he read. “Is that your name?” She scowled at him, but behind it there was fear. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Okay, Morgan. I’ll let you go, but don’t let me catch you here again, understand? And change your hair. You don’t want people mistaking you for Trixie, do you?”
“No, of course not,” she said quickly, as she snatched away her hand. “Thanks for the advice.”
Dan watched her walk away, wondering whether he’d done the right thing. We don’t need any more trouble today, he told himself. And she’s got plenty of her own, without me causing her any more.
Friday, October 1, 2004
A gentle tap on the door alerted Dan to the fact that he had a visitor: a rather reluctant visitor, by the sounds of them. He called a response and the door slowly swung open, revealing a sheepish-looking Honey.
“Can I ask you something?” She looked shy and slightly nervous, fiddling absently with the hem of her sweater. “In confidence?”
Why do I think I’m about to regret that? he silently wondered. Aloud, he said: “Shoot.”
She closed the door with hardly a sound, and leaned against it.
“Do you think… I mean, if it were you instead of…” Her voice faded away, then her eyes dropped. When she next spoke, it was all in a rush. “I need some advice about Brian and I thought you’d be able to tell me, ’cause I know that- well, let’s just say that I’ve seen you with lots of girls and I know that Brian had other girlfriends before me and I don’t want him to compare me to them - at least, especially not that last one, ’cause how could I ever- well, I mean, I haven’t ever- and she had and the way things are going, he’ll be waiting a long time and what if he likes her better?”
Hell! Dan thought. How am I supposed to answer that? And why is it me that she’s asking? “What is it with you girls,” he asked, trying to buy himself some time. “You all seem to treat me like I’m your ‘best gay friend,’ or something.”
“Do we?” Honey asked, with a self-conscious giggle. “Can you tell me how to coordinate my bedspread with my curtains? Or, what shade of nail polish I should wear with the dress I bought last week?” Dan glared at her. “I didn’t think so. On the other hand, you’re the perfect person to ask what I just asked, so can you answer it, please, and stop trying to change the subject, or do I have to find someone else?”
Why me? he wondered, once again. “I don’t think Brian is dating you for your previous experiences,” he said. “And I don’t think he wants you to have the bedroom manner of a whore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, looking rather offended.
“You asked. I’m telling it to you straight, okay?” he said. “If he wanted that kind of girl, they’re easy enough to find. He’s with you. Suggests to me that he knows what he wants, and it’s not women like her.”
Her brow creased with thought. He wondered, Do I have to spell it out? Is she really that innocent? “Look, Honey,” he said, “you just have to be yourself. Brian’s not going to expect you to know what you’re doing. Just relax and have fun finding out.”
“But what if I disappoint him?”
“Then you’ll need more practise,” he replied, grinning. “Don’t worry about it, Honey. He’s a good man. He won’t let you down.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are we talking about the same Brian? Of course, I’m sure.”
At last, she smiled. “Thanks, Dan. I knew you were the right one to ask.”
As the door closed almost silently behind her, Dan breathed a sigh of relief. Those girls, he thought with a shake of his head. I really don’t want to know what they’ll ask me next.
Monday, November 1, 2004
Early morning sunshine was lighting the kitchen as Dan went to look for some breakfast. He did not expect to see anyone else this early - the share house was usually very quiet on Monday mornings - but quiet sounds told him that he was not alone.
“Morning,” said Jim, looking up from his inspection of the refrigerator. “Must have been Mart’s turn to shop: there’s plenty to choose from. What can I get you?”
After a short discussion, the two decided that bacon and eggs would be a good start to the day. Jim set about frying, while Dan made the coffee. They soon settled into conversation.
“You had any luck with that real estate agent?” Dan asked, putting some bread on to toast. He had hardly seen Jim since the agent arrived on their doorstep, claiming that the property was for sale.
“They’ve decided not to sue me, if that’s any consolation.” He chuckled ruefully, noting the incredulous look on Dan’s face. “You’ve got to admit, it’s good to have access to the best lawyers. If it had just been me, they would have taken me to the cleaners.”
“Bastards,” said Dan. “You should sue them, instead.”
“I think it might be more useful to find out who did it,” said Jim, suppressing a grin. “Besides, Trixie already has a prime suspect in the case.”
“The dead guy?”
“He had my ID. Who knows what else he might have had, where ever it was that he lived.” He sighed. “It’s a lot of trouble to go to, especially since it was almost sure to fail. He could hardly hope that the house would sell without being inspected. Kind of makes me wonder what he was really up to.”
“I hope we don’t find out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asked, serving out the food. “You want this hanging over my head?”
“And Trixie’s,” Dan added. “She’s mixed up in this somehow. I just know it.” And so is the girl I saw out back, he added to himself. Morgan.
“Okay, then. Over both our heads. Is that what you really want?”
“I just hope that whatever it was died with him,” said Dan. “Don’t invite trouble.”