Ginger Chambers - Bachelor's Puzzle

Elise was embarrassed by Bea’s hateful demeanor. The inhabitants of Tyler knew her; they were accustomed to her sharp tongue. But Robert Fairmont was a guest in their town, in their home. He wouldn’t understand. “Maybe we should go back to the library,” she suggested. “I truly would like to show everyone that I’m—”

“It was my understanding that you were home for the day!” Bea snapped, interrupting her.

“No, Bea,” Elise explained. “I told you I was going back.”

“Because of him? ” Bea glanced spitefully at the professor.

“No, because I have to. I have work to do, Bea. You know that.”

“But you almost fainted. What if you do it again?”

Elise knew that Bea wasn’t voicing concern for her wellbeing. In her own way her sister loved her, but it wasn’t in Bea to think of another person first. Particularly not Elise.

“Then I’ll sit down and wait for it to be over!” Elise returned shortly. She took a bracing breath. “I’ll be home no later than six-thirty. I promise.”

She reached for her purse, glad of her forethought in setting it near the door. Then she turned to Robert. “Are you ready?” she asked with brittle control.

Robert nodded, but before moving away, he addressed Bea. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe next time it will be under better circumstances.” He was making an excuse for her ill humor.

Bea snapped. “I don’t see any reason why there should be a next time.”

Pain filled Elise’s heart as she wondered what Bea’s life, not to mention her own, would have been like if Bea hadn’t fallen on the icy steps. Blindly, she walked toward the door. Robert was just behind her and, sensing her need, he reached out to lightly touch her back, guiding her toward the exit.

Gratitude instantly took the place of pain, and not even Bea’s acerbic reminder, “Six-thirty, Elise!” could steal away the warmth that temporarily surrounded her being.

* * *

BEA SAT ALONE in the house, grumbling to herself. She was always alone, or so it seemed. She should be used to it. But it didn’t make the hours pass any faster. In Elise’s opinion, as long as she had her television and her books, her magazines and her dolls, she would be all right. Then Elise could go out into the world with a free conscience and not have to think about her. Leave her all alone except for the marmalade cat...who at present wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Buttercup!” Bea called, snapping her fingers near the floor. “Come to Bea, Buttercup!” she called again, but it did no good. The silly cat was sleeping somewhere, probably somewhere that she shouldn’t.

Bea straightened, drawing her hand back into her lap. She sighed and looked at the closed front door. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like that man. Not one little bit. She knew danger when she saw it, and he was definitely danger! Elise practically quivered every time he looked at her. She might not be completely aware of it herself, but Bea was.

Her mind went back to another man, years before, who had come calling on Elise. Elise had been twenty...no, nineteen. How many years ago was that? Thirty-four. My God, Bea thought dully. That meant she’d been in this chair for... Bea let her chin drop. Forty-two years!

A moment later she lifted her hands to examine them. The fingers were still long and narrow, tapering to delicate oval nails at the tips. But the skin had lost a great deal of its elasticity and age spots had begun to appear.

Her lips tightened. She was growing old. And what did she have to show for it? Nothing.

With a strength of purpose that would have surprised Elise had she been there, Bea pushed her chair over to the hall mirror, where she arranged herself in the best possible light. What she saw reflected was a drab-looking woman shrunk into an invalid’s chair. Dried-up; prune-faced. She tried to smile, but the muscles protested and her effort came off as more of a leer. She moved impatiently away.

No, she didn’t like that man, that fancy architecture professor. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, or the way he looked at Elise...which were two entirely different matters. Bea would have to be vigilant if she didn’t want to be left alone. Would have to watch Elise for any threatening signs.

Buttercup sidled up to the chair and, purring, rubbed her yellow side along the rubber rim of the right wheel.

“Ah! So there you are!” Bea exclaimed. She reached down to scoop the cat onto her lap. Buttercup responded by arching her back. “Yes,” Bea said a few moments later, still absently stroking a silky neck. “I must be extremely watchful.”

* * *

THE MERCEDES DIDN’T SEEM nearly as alien as it had on her previous ride. Still, Elise could not relax. She glanced at Robert Fairmont as he competently negotiated the Tyler streets. He didn’t look in the least disturbed, but she was. Bea’s rudeness had been unforgivable. She tried to apologize.

“I’m sorry that Bea... She didn’t really mean...” Elise took a breath and started over. “Bea can be extremely difficult at times.”

Robert glanced at her. “There’s no need to apologize.”

Elise shook her head. “No, I believe there is. She says things, does things. I understand because I live with her. But she forgets that other people don’t understand.”

“Has she been in a wheelchair long?”

“Most of her life.”

Robert was silent. Elise knew that her answer had abolished another excuse. A person unused to physical impairment could be forgiven for lashing out. Bea didn’t have that defense.

Elise’s hands tightened in her lap. “I can’t blame her, though. If it were me...”

How many times over the years had she wished that it had been her instead of Bea who had fallen on the steps? Even now she wished that she could trade places with her. Of course, she doubted that Bea would have cared for her in quite the same way. She’d probably be a resident of Worthington House now, possibly even placed in the skilled-care facility. She’d be one of the people she brought books to on a weekly basis. There would be no library as she knew it....

A light touch brought Elise from her reverie. She jumped, blinking.

Robert smiled. “You were a thousand miles away,” he said, replacing his hand on the steering wheel.

Elise hadn’t meant to woolgather. She resumed her apology. “I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t anything personal. Bea’s just...like that.” Yet Elise was afraid that it was very much personal. Bea disliked certain people more than others. Her reasoning was a mystery.

“It didn’t bother me,” he said firmly.

Elise sighed.

Soon the library came into view. Several cars were parked out front. Robert maneuvered the Mercedes into a slot next to a pickup. When they got out, instead of immediately coming to join Elise on the sidewalk, Robert opened the back door of the car and leaned inside to extract a long tube from the back seat. Elise knew what it contained: the plans for the new library.

He closed the door and walked up to her. Jiggling the tube, he said, “If you’re not up to this, say so. And any time you get tired, say so as well.”

“I’m perfectly—”

“—All right. I know. But it sounds as if this town tried to kill you with kindness when you were supposed to be resting. You’re little better off now than you were earlier. Except maybe you’ve eaten. You have eaten, haven’t you?”

Elise nodded as she fell into step at his side. She was very much aware of him. Aware of how handsome he was, of the lean vitality of his body, of the power of his personality. It felt good to be walking next to him; it felt good that he seemed to care about her well-being.