A Million Little Lies Page 19

  Afterward they walked to church, Annie out in front urging Ida to hurry along, behind them Suzanna and Gregg, strolling arm in arm. It was as perfect an evening as Suzanna could have possibly wished for. The weather, ideal for December, was crisp, cool, and fragrant with the scent of fresh-cut pine. The spirit of Christmas was everywhere: in the smiles of passersby who greeted them, in the bright red poinsettias lining the walkways, and the houses festooned with wreaths and ribbons of garland. But for Suzanna the most joyous thing of all was the wide smile on Annie’s face. Every time they passed a house with a brightly-lit tree, she squealed with the delight of knowing that Santa would be stopping there.

  Suzanna looked at Gregg and smiled. “She’s so excited, I’m never going to be able to get her to go to bed early tonight.”

  Gregg laughed. “Probably not. Hopefully we can outlast her, because I’d like to spend some private time with you.”

  Suzanna leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’d like that also.”

  When they rounded the corner of Birch Street, the church came into view. The doors were open, the lights shone from within, and the sound of music wafted through the air.

  Phil and Ginger had driven over from Barston and were waiting in front of the walkway, Phil with his arm wrapped protectively around Ginger, her with baby Lizzie held close to her chest, and Edna, the proud grandma, looking on. As Ginger folded back the blanket to give everyone a peek at the sleeping baby, the sadness she had shown earlier seemed all but gone. She excitedly spoke of how Lizzie was now cooing, smiling, and sleeping for six hours straight; then she leaned toward Suzanna and whispered, “You were right, Lizzie is the best thing ever.”

  As the group made their way toward the entrance, Suzanna was surprised to see so many familiar faces—the girl from the drug store, several ladies who shopped at Cavalier’s, the paper boy, neighbors from the surrounding streets, Annie’s classmates and their families—all of them smiling, waving, and calling out Merry Christmas as if she had lived here her entire life. A warm glow blossomed in Suzanna’s heart. She had everything she’d ever wanted. A family, a child to love, and a place to belong. The memory of her father and the ten-dollar bill flashed through her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to take this new-found joy from her.

  The seven of them filled the pew, with Phil anchoring one end, Gregg the other, and Lizzie sound asleep in Edna’s arms. After they’d listened to the pastor read the words that told of the Christ child’s birth and watched the children perform a pageant portraying the arrival of the Magi, the ushers handed out candles, the lights were dimmed, and the candles lit one from another. Gregg turned and lit Suzanna’s, then she bent and lit Annie’s.

  “Hold on tight,” she whispered, “and be very careful.” She then held Annie’s hand in hers and steadied it as they lit Ida’s candle. The organ music grew softer and then faded to nothing, and in a room lit only by the glow of candles the congregation sang Silent Night.

  Just as Suzanna suspected, Annie was too excited to go to bed.

  “Please, Mama,” she begged, “just ten minutes more.”

  Of course, ten minutes turned into an hour then Ida gave a loud and extremely sorrowful sounding sigh. “It’s a shame Santa won’t be able to stop here this year.”

  Annie looked up wide eyed. “What do you mean he won’t stop. The tree elves—”

  “Despite the tree, Santa won’t stop if the children are awake. Don’t you remember that poem about the children all nestled snug in their beds? Well, that’s why they were all in their beds.”

  With a look of apprehension pinching her face, Annie asked, “Is that really true?”

  “Absolutely,” Suzanna said. “Grandmas don’t lie.”

  Annie hesitated a moment. With a look of doubt still clinging to her face, she said, “I’m not really sleepy, but I’ll try.” After a lengthy round of goodnight hugs and kisses, she started up the stairs.

  Ida stayed for a few minutes longer, then followed Annie to bed.

  Once they were certain Annie was asleep, Gregg carried in the cartons and gift boxes that had been hidden in the garage.

  “I’ll assemble the bicycle while you arrange the other things under the tree,” he said.

  Suzanna nodded, and they went to work. The boxes of dresses and shoes were wrapped in gold paper and tied with red ribbons, the games and toys taken from the cardboard cartons and placed around the tree. As she arranged the toys and gifts, she could almost hear the squeals of delight that would soon follow. She pictured Annie’s eyes glistening with happiness, and it filled her heart to know that for the first time in her young life Annie was experiencing the joy of Christmas. Although it was not something she could unwrap or hold in her hand, Suzanna had come to realize it was the greatest gift of all.

  When they’d finished, she poured them each a glass of wine and they sat together on the sofa. For a few moments they spoke about Annie, anticipating how thrilled she was going to be. Then Gregg’s voice softened.

  He brought his body closer to hers and traced his fingers along the curve of her cheek. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  With a slight blush coloring her cheeks, she thanked him.

  “It’s the dress from the show,” she said. “Colette told me to keep it.”

  Gregg smiled and leaned closer still. “It’s not the dress that’s beautiful, it’s you. Everything about you. The sweetness of your smile, the tenderness of your touch, the way you look after Annie, how you care for Ida. There’s something about you, Darla Jean, that makes people love you…myself included.”

  Suzanna started to speak, but he touched his finger to her lips and hushed her.

  “I came to Georgia thinking I’d spend some time with my family then move on, but you’ve changed all that. I’ve fallen in love with you and with Annie too. I’m hoping that in time you’ll feel the same about me.”

  She tilted her face to his and in a voice filled with emotion whispered, “I already do.”

  He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. With his fingers cradling the back of her neck and his thumb caressing her cheek, he kissed her full on the mouth. His lips were soft and sweet against hers, warmed by passion but filled with promise. She circled her arms around his neck, and he drew her closer still. When Suzanna felt the thump of his heart against hers, the fears and heartaches of the past melted into nothingness. She knew that moment and the memory of that moment would forever be in her heart.

  ——————

  SUZANNA HAD HOPED TO SLEEP until eight on Christmas morning, but it proved impossible. Before dawn she heard Annie’s footsteps thundering down the staircase, so she pulled herself from the bed and followed her down. She’d reached the lower landing when she heard Annie cry out.

  “The tree elves were right! Santa came!”

  Before breakfast Annie had unwrapped every gift, played with every toy, and tried on every new dress, sweater, and coat. When she finally settled into making cookies in her new Easy Bake Oven, Suzanna gave Ida her gifts. She’d worried that they were small by comparison: a special Christmas ornament that read Grandma 1960, the holiday apron she’d admired at the Emporium, and a blue velvet bathrobe. The last gifts were the ones Suzanna and Gregg exchanged.

  He handed her the small box wrapped in gold paper, touched his mouth to hers, then said, “I hope this is the beginning of many more Christmases together.”

  Inside the box was a heart-shaped locket.

  “It’s beautiful,” Suzanna said and returned the kiss he’d given her moments earlier. Before she had him clasp it around her neck, she popped the heart open. Inside were two tiny picture frames. One held a miniature photo of Annie; the other was blank.

  “I left that side empty for a reason,” Gregg said shyly. “Hopefully, in the not-too-distant future, you’ll want to use that spot for a picture of somebody special.”

  Giving the locket a quick glance, Annie said, “Grandma’s special. Ma
ma can put her picture in there.”

  Everybody laughed but when Gregg smiled at Suzanna, she knew she’d already found her somebody special. She told herself that before next Christmas the locket would have two pictures, and she would wear it around her neck every day for as long as she lived.

  Bobby

  Finding Suzanna

  CHRISTMAS CAME AND WENT IN a blur of activity for Bobby Doherty. There was a dinner at the Garretts’ house, a get-together with Brenda’s cousins, and the New Year’s Eve party at the country club where he downed way too many drinks and ended up stumbling over his own feet. That night Brenda had to drive home, and the next morning she was as frosty as an ice cube.

  Before he had one eye open, she plopped a glass of orange juice and two aspirin down on the nightstand alongside the bed.

  “You were an absolute embarrassment,” she snapped angrily. “I’m just glad Mama and Daddy weren’t there to see you fall flat on your face.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bobby said penitently. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “Too many martinis, that’s what got into you!” She yanked the blanket back and told him he had an hour to pull himself together and get dressed.

  He groaned. “Gimme a break. I’m not feeling all that great.”

  “I don’t care if your head feels like it will pop off your shoulders, we are not going to miss my parents’ black-eyed peas brunch.”

  “Just this once,” he pleaded. “Let’s stay home. I can light the fireplace in the den, and we’ll cuddle up, maybe watch the Rose Bowl Parade. Wouldn’t you like—”

  “No! Get dressed. We are leaving here in one hour.”

  Somehow, he made it through the brunch. He’d nodded and bobbed his head listening to Jerome Garrett talk about how it was unthinkable that an upstart such as John F. Kennedy could defeat the Republican vice president, Richard Nixon. He’d also complimented her mama’s black-eyed peas and rice, saying that this year’s dish was the best yet. But before the day was out, he’d cast those thoughts aside and slid back into remembering how Suzanna would rub his shoulders or massage his calves after a hard workout. She was soft in ways where Brenda was hard; more sympathetic, more forgiving. There were times in life when a man needed a woman like Brenda and other times when he needed someone like Suzanna.

  In the days that followed, the memories of Suzanna became like a drug Bobby couldn’t get out of his system. The more he tried to push them from his mind, the more he was drawn back to them. He thought about how they’d made love in the back seat of his daddy’s car and how she’d twined her legs around his like an ivy climbing a trellis. Back then he couldn’t imagine a life without her, but that was before Brenda.

  He and Eddie had spoken just once since that telephone call, and they’d not mentioned Suzanna Duff again, but on the Tuesday after the brunch as soon as Brenda left for the bridge club Bobby called his brother.

  After a few minutes of small talk about the bowl games, he got around to what he’d actually called about.

  “By the way,” he said casually, “did you ever recall Suzanna’s new name?”

  “Nah, I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Think you could look into it for me? Dig around, check the program maybe?”

  “I don’t think there was a program, and I’m certainly not asking Christine about it.”

  Bobby hesitated a moment, not wanting to appear overly anxious, then asked about the name of the country club where the event was held.

  “Same as the town,” Eddie said, “Barston Country Club. But you’re not actually gonna try and find her, are you?”

  “Not really,” Bobby lied. “Just curious, I guess.” He immediately changed the subject, asking when Eddie and Christine might be coming for a visit.

  Bobby waited a week before he called information and asked for the telephone number of the Barston Country Club. When the operator asked if he wanted Catering or the Golf Shop, he answered “Catering,” then wrote the number on the scratch pad in front of him and hung up.

  He folded the note paper and tucked it in the breast pocket of his jacket, still uncertain of what he’d do. A voice in the back of his mind whispered that he was asking for trouble, but he reasoned that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Looking up an old friend wasn’t exactly a crime. Even though he was already picturing Suzanna lying naked in his arms, he kept telling himself that he just wanted to say hello, see how she was doing, ask about the kid. He didn’t know what he’d do if it was Suzanna and if she told him the child was his, but those were pretty big ifs and that was a bridge he didn’t have to cross yet.

  Over the course of the afternoon, he read through the Fulmore merger three times then laid it on the credenza behind his desk. His concentration was shot; trying to work when his mind was elsewhere was impossible. He’d be doing himself and the firm a favor if he went ahead and made the call; chances were, it would end up being a big nothing. Maybe a girl who looked a little like Suzanna. Eddie wasn’t necessarily a source to be believed.

  Once Bobby knew for sure, he could put the issue to bed, forget about finding Suzanna, leave thoughts of her in the past where they belonged, and get back to enjoying life with Brenda. Even though he’d assured himself there was no wrong in what he was doing, he waited until after five, checked to make sure Jerome Garrett was gone for the day, then closed his office door and dialed the number he’d been given.

  The telephone rang several times before a woman answered. Her voice sounded young and a bit informal for a country club.

  Bobby introduced himself and said he was representing a talent agency who had an interest in one of the models who’d worked the December fashion show at the Barston Country Club. In the deep-throated voice he used when there was a need to impress, he said, “I’m hoping you can give me the young woman’s contact information.”

  “Are you a talent scout? Like for a movie or something?”

  “Something like that,” Bobby replied, keeping the timbre of his voice consistent. “My understanding is that the young woman we are looking for is a blonde with a double name.”

  “The model from Atlanta was a brunette, so you must mean Darla Jean Parker.”

  Bobby jotted the name down as he continued. “This Darla Jean Parker, is she from Atlanta also?”

  “No, sir, she’s a local. Works here in Barston. I’m not real sure, but I think she lives with her grandma over in Cousins.”

  “Works in Barston? Would you happen to know where?”

  “Yes, sir, I sure enough do. Cavalier’s Couture. It’s the fancy dress shop over on Main Street.”

  Bobby thanked her for her help and hung up. He studied the piece of paper for several minutes then picked up the receiver and asked the operator for the number of Cavalier’s Couture on Main Street in Barston. As she recited the numbers, he wrote them below Darla Jean Parker’s name.

  It was beginning to look like every piece of information he got only led to more questions. If this Darla Jean Parker was Suzanna Duff, why had she changed her name? And where did the grandma thing come from? Suzanna always told him she’d never known any of her grandparents. If that story was a lie, had there been any truth in their relationship?

  He underlined the name in a heavy-handed stroke, then put a question mark at the bottom of the page and drew a circle around it. He sat there for a long while, tapping his pen against the desk, and trying to make sense of it all. It was close to seven when the telephone rang and shook him from his reverie.

  Brenda’s voice had a thread of irritation woven through it. “It’s after seven. Why are you still at the office?”

  Bobby stumbled through an explanation of being buried under a mountain of paperwork and then in a move that came as a surprise even to him, said he’d be going to see a new client later in the week. “It may be for just a day or could turn into an overnight thing.”

  “Can’t you hold off until next Tuesday?” Brenda asked. “That’s my bridge club night, and it won’t be so
lonely if you’re away.”

  A sliver of guilt crawled along Bobby’s spine. “Yeah, sure, babe, I can hold off ’til Tuesday.”

  At that point he was committed. He’d come too far and wasn’t about to back off now. Besides, he had to know whether or not this woman was Suzanna. If it was, he had a whole lot of questions that needed to be answered.

  He refolded the note paper with Darla Jean Parker’s name and Cavalier’s telephone number, slid it back into his pocket, then left the office and started for home.

  Bobby Doherty

  Tuesday, January 10, 1961

  BOBBY ARRIVED IN BARSTON A few minutes after 11 a.m. He drove down Main Street looking for Cavalier’s, and once he spotted it he circled the block to drive by a second time. A cold front had come through the night before, so the few shoppers who were out were bundled in wool caps and parkas. He parked two blocks away then got out and walked past the store.

  At first the shop appeared empty. Then he saw her behind the counter, her head tilted as if she might be searching for something on a lower shelf. Her hair hung loose, longer than it was when they were together, falling across her shoulder, hiding part of her face. At first he wasn’t sure, so he stood for a moment and watched. As familiar as the figure seemed, there was something different about this woman. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  Moments later she lifted her head as if she’d heard something, then turned and walked toward the back of the store. He watched as she disappeared behind a rack of dresses. Her walk was different than he remembered, her stride longer, her back straighter. Even from the brief glimpse he’d managed to catch, he could tell her chin was held at a loftier angle.

  He thought he’d know right off whether or not it was Suzanna, but the sorry truth was he didn’t. Bits and pieces of the girl he knew were there, but the woman as a whole was different. He waited, hoping she’d return, but several minutes ticked by and he didn’t see her again. The wind gusted, and he felt something smack against his back. He turned quickly and found the street empty. A trash can toppled over; a flyaway newspaper was lifted by the wind and disappeared down the street. Shivering in his suit jacket, Bobby wished he’d thought to bring a top coat or a wool scarf. Remembering that he’d passed a coffee shop a few doors down, he turned and headed back. He’d get warm, then check her out again.