A Woman Scorned

Chapter 1

Tom slowed his car as he approached his toll house cottage where he saw a very familiar Jeep parked out in front.  He pulled around the corner to where the driveway was then pulled in.  The toll house was literally on the crossroads that before the highway was built was once a heavily traveled thoroughfare.  Now the crossroads in the middle of nowhere was almost as quiet as Edna’s Treasures Lane.  Probably quieter considering how the lane had grown.  Tom entered his cottage from the side, flipping on light switches until he reached the front door.  He flipped the last switch that lit the outside lamps then he opened his front door.

“Isn’t it a little late in the season to be gardening?” Tom asked the man crouched in the middle of his front garden.

“It’s never too late to be gardening,” the man replied, never looking or standing up.  Tom watched for a few more minutes before venturing to speak.

“It looks like you’re planting cabbages,” Tom commented as he squinted.  It was relatively early in the day but being late November the sun was already going down.  “Can I cook them?”

“No you may not cook them,” came an exasperated retort.  “They’re ornamental cabbages.  You may look but not touch.  I’ll change them when they start to wilt.”

“Okay.”  Tom left the man to his cabbages.  “I’m a bit cold.  There’ll be a pot of coffee on the stove when you’re ready.”  Tom got a grunt of acknowledgment then went inside.

About an hour later Tom heard the front door open and the thud of feet scraping against the door mat.

“Hey, Padre!”

“Kitchen!”  Tom then heard a set of size twelves come sauntering toward the kitchen.  “Coffee?” Tom asked as he held up a steaming mug.  Hazel eyes brightened as a rare smile lit up Brian’s face.  Pulling off his work gloves then removing his jacket, Brian accepted the mug, sitting at the table as Tom slid the sugar over to him.  Tom let Brian take a few sips and settle before speaking.

“So we needed cabbages in my front garden because…?”

“The Fall mums were dead and needed replacing,” Brian cryptically replied.

“I see.  And you had to plant them in the middle of the night?” 

Brian glared.  “Isn’t it some sort of a sin when a man of the cloth exaggerates like you do?  It’s only six.  Now if I was out here at two in the morning you might have had a point.”  Brian sat back with a smug look on his face genteelly sipping his coffee.

“You know sometimes I forget what an asshole you can be,” Tom snarked.

“Language, Padre.”

“Thanks to you I’m no longer a padre so I can curse up a storm.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“It’s all good, Brian, really.  I’ve never been this happy before.  The Episcopalian congregation is so accepting.  I’m needed there and wanted.  And Todd and I are finally settled in.”

“Speaking about your other half, where is the king of landscaping?”

“Overseeing a shipment of rock salt and sand.  He’ll be a while yet.  What’s on your mind?”  Tom read the signs.  This was a Brian with something more on his mind than shriveled mums and ornamental cabbages.

Brian shrugged his shoulders.

“Shall I take a wild guess?”  Brian shrugged again with a heavy sigh.  “You’re still worried that Bree will love Celeste and want Celeste to be a big part of her life.  You’re worried that you’re going to lose your little girl.”

Brian stared down into his coffee mug, studying the dark liquid.  His hands clenched tightly around the mug.  Tom gently pried Brian’s hands away from the mug and held them in his own.

“You honestly have no idea how much that little girl loves and adores her Dada.  How much she loves both of you.  Nothing or no one will ever come between you.  Briana is your daughter.  That will never change,” Tom said with such conviction that Brian just about believed it.  Brian still had some lingering doubts but Tom’s words and support were breaking through his stubborn Irish hide.  “You know, it’s okay to share your feelings with Justin.  He’s probably feeling the same way,” Tom said logically.  Brian nodded as he took another sip of coffee.

“More coffee?” Tom asked.  He topped off Brian’s mug and then his own.  They sat in companionable silence drinking their coffee.

*****

A thin petite woman stepped wearily down the gangway toward the baggage area of the airport.  She was tired, grumpy and felt her ears ringing from sitting close to the wings for over seven hours of flight time and then circling the airport due to bad weather.  After retrieving her bags she hailed a cab then headed for The Plaza Hotel.  She said a silent prayer that she still had her reservation.

*****

“Where were you?” Justin asked as Brian walked through the side door and into the kitchen.

“The toll house,” Brian grumped as he hung up his gardening jacket on one of the hooks in the mud room.

“Take a shower and for fuck’s sake don’t let Bree see you with that face.  I don’t think I can handle the two of you in a foul mood,” Justin demanded.

“What’s up with her?” Brian asked trying to shake off his bad mood.

“Not sure, but I have the impression it has something to do with the school dance,” Justin replied as he basted the roast in the oven.

Brian was almost out of the kitchen when he turned around and stepped up behind Justin.  Justin shut the oven door then placed the large spoon on a dish on the counter.  He turned so that he could look up into Brian’s eyes.  Justin saw a pain and sadness there that he hadn’t seen in years.  It was almost the same look Brian had in his eyes when Justin had left him for the fiddler.  Justin never wanted to see that hurt ever again.  Justin drew the taller man into arms and hung on for life.

“Go ahead, take your shower.  You have time,” Justin said softly.  He felt Brian nod and then he released him.  Justin stood in the kitchen watching the slumped shoulders of a retreating Brian.

*****

“Fuck me,” she cursed to herself.

“Please accept our apologies.  Of course we’ll refund your deposit,” the Plaza manager assured the woman.

“That’s nice,” she said with a touch of sarcasm.  “But unless you can book me into another hotel my refund is not going to help me right now,” she growled.

“I can certainly try but between the football games and the holidays, most of the city is booked solid.”

“Are you telling me there are absolutely no vacant rooms in this entire hotel?”

“Well, there is the penthouse but...”

“I’ll take it!”

“I can’t...”

“What do you mean you can’t?  It’s a room and my money’s as good as the next person.”  Her voice was getting a little louder.

“It’s not that,” the manager tried to explain.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“That particular suite of rooms is on permanent retainer.”

“For who?  Maybe I know him.  I’ve lived and worked here most of my life.  Perhaps I can call and ask.  It’ll only be for a few nights until I can arrange an apartment.  I already have a realtor looking.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Please, I’ve been on a plane for over seven hours.  I’m so tired I can’t think straight,” she pleaded.  If she was thinking ‘straight’ she would’ve remembered to whom that particular suite of rooms belonged.

The manager took pity on the haggard woman; after all, it was the holidays.  He showed her to a waiting area where she could sit while he made a phone call.  A few minutes later the manager came back into the waiting room and beckoned her into his office.

“The gentleman wishes to speak with you,” the manager informed her as he handed over the phone then left the office to allow her some privacy.

“Hello?” she said into the phone trying to rein in her frustrations.

“Well hello, Mel, how’s tricks?” Brian snarked.

“Fuck me!”

*****

“Where’s Dada?” Bree asked her Daddy as they were setting the table.

“He had to take a phone call.  He’ll be out soon and then we’ll eat,” Justin said calmly.  The family of the conjoined cottages were eating at the Anderson-Morrison end.  Justin had supplied the roast and potatoes while John and Bobby had everything else.  Thanksgiving was less than a week away and the family was planning on discussing it at dinner.

“Don’t tell me that partner of yours is working right now,” Bobby said with some impatience.  He had rushed home for the family meeting.

“No, the manager of The Plaza called.  Brian should be off the phone soon,” Justin explained.

“I’m here,” Brian called out as he entered the kitchen waving a very expensive bottle of red wine in his hand.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked as he got a cork screw and passed it to his brother.  Bobby got the wine glasses.

“Monsoon Melanie just blew into town,” Brian announced with a pop of the cork.  Three glasses were immediately raised toward Brian.

“Was that the call from The Plaza?” Justin asked. 

Brian nodded.  “Apparently they overbooked and Mel’s reservation got lost.  The manager wanted to know if it was okay with me for Mel to use our executive suite,” Brian said with a smirk.  “It seems that my suite is the only vacancy in town.”

“Brian,” John growled.

“Brian?” Bobby questioned

“Brian!” Justin admonished.

Brian looked at each man and shook his head.  “I’m not sure if I should laugh or be disappointed at your lack of faith in me,” he said.  Each man looked appropriately contrite.

“What did you tell the manager?” Justin gently asked.

“I told him that Ms. Marcus was to have full access to the suite for as long as she required it and that all courtesies were to be afforded her.  Then I briefly spoke to Mel...”  The men groaned.  “And then I immediately called your mother.”  Brian shot a poignant look toward Justin.

“My mother,” Justin repeated as more wine was poured into the glasses.  “You don’t mean?”

“Yes, my dear Sunshine, she’s baaacck!” Brian said with a grin.

“Oh boy!” the other three men gasped. 

The subject was quickly changed when Patrick, sensing this was a good time to interject, asked a question, “What am I gonna wear to the school dance?”

Bree made a face.

***** 

“Daddy, can I call Ashley?”

“Please,” Justin said as he dried the roasting pan before shoving it back into the closet.

“PLEEEZZZZ!” Bree exaggerated.

“You’re going to see her tomorrow at school, why do you need to call her now?  And did you finish your homework?” Justin asked with a scowl on his face and hands on his hips.

“Because I hafta ask her something and yes I did.  So please, can I call her?” Bree asked again with her hands on her own hips. 

At that moment, Brian walked into the kitchen looking for more coffee.  Not that he needed any more caffeine.

“Oh great, dueling Sunshines,” he snarked as he proceeded to make a small pot of decaf.  Both blonds gave him similar glares.  Brian threw his hands up in surrender.

“So can I, Daddy?” Bree asked again, ignoring her older father.

“Go ahead,” Justin capitulated.  Bree snatched the portable phone off the wall then ran into her room.

“What’s that all about?” Brian asked as his magic elixir was brewing.

“Not sure but I think this school dance has got her knickers in a twist,” Justin conjectured.  “What’s with Melanie?  Is she visiting or back for good?”

“For good it seems.  I really didn’t go into it and Mel sounded very tired.  She said she’d only need the suite for a few days and that she had already called a few realtors before she left Portland.”

“It does seem like she’s moving back,” Justin commented as the coffeemaker spat out the last few drops of decaf coffee into the carafe.  He poured out two mugs then reset the maker for the morning.  “I wonder if Lindsay knows.”

“It’s none of our business.  And if Linds does know then I’m sure we’ll hear about it.  If not from her then Mikey.”

“I didn’t think about him.  I wonder if JR knows.”

“If she did I’m sure she would have told Gus,” Brian murmured as he poured a half a pound of sugar in his coffee before taking a sip.  “And I’ll kill him if he did know and didn’t tell us.”

“For a man that watches his weight and what he eats as closely as you do, I never understood why you use the amount of sugar that you do.”

“I don’t always stir, that way it doesn’t count.”

“Asshole,” Justin grumbled.  “I’m going to paint for a while,” Justin said as he walked out.

“You do that, Sunshine,” Brian said as he waved goodbye with his mug.  He put the mug down on the counter then pinched the bridge of his nose trying to ward off the headache that was brewing.  “Might as well do some work of my own,” he mumbled to himself then took his mug up to his attic office.

*****

“Ashley,” Bree said as soon as Susanna handed the phone to her daughter.

“Bree?  What’s wrong?” Ashley asked hearing the tears in Bree’s voice.

“I … It’s … Patrick,” Bree mumbled.  Now that she was talking to her best friend, she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her what was really happening.

“What did he do?” Ashley asked in all innocence.  “Did he hurt you?”

“He’s … He’s taking Brittany Chadwick to the dance.”

“He’s not!”

“Yes he is.”

“How could he?  I thought he was going to ask you,” Ashley said repeating what Bree had told her.

“I thought he was too,” Bree agreed.  “And he told me about asking Brittany in front of everybody at dinner.”

“What did you do?”

“I wanted to scream and punch him in the nose, but I just walked away.”

“You showed great restraint,” Ashley responded in her most grown-up voice.  She thought that was how Bree would have responded if the same thing had happened to Ashley.

“I guess so,” Bree pouted.  “But I really wanted to tell him off.  Brittany is so lame.”

“Yeah, she thinks she’s hot stuff, but she can’t do anything except wear makeup and flashy clothes.”

“She’s so shallow.”

“Not like you,” Ashley said.  She still worshipped her best friend and thought Bree could do no wrong.  Bree was the smartest, kindest, most talented person that Ashley could think of.  Brittany was no competition for Ashley’s best friend

“What am I going to do?” Bree asked.  “I wanted Patrick to ask me to the dance.”

“Hm,” Ashley said, “I wish I had a good plan to get Patrick to take you, but … I don’t.”

“Maybe we could push Brittany down the stairs at school,” Bree suggested.  “Then if she broke her leg, she wouldn’t be able to go to the dance.”

“Bree!” Ashley responded in horror.  She couldn’t believe that her friend would suggest such a thing.

“I know, I know,” Bree sighed.  “I wouldn’t really do that, but I have been dreaming up all the evil things I’d like to do to Brittany.”

“So, you’re just thinking them, but you won’t really do them.”

“No, I won’t,” Bree conceded.  “If Brittany did break her leg, Patrick’s so nice he would probably skip the dance and go to Brittany’s house to keep her company.”

“Yeah, he is nice.”  Ashley had her own crush on Patrick.  She held him in almost as high esteem as she did Bree.

“It was fun thinking about all the bad things that might happen to Brittany,” Bree said with a little chuckle.  Ashley always made her feel better even when nothing was being resolved.

“What else were you planning to do to her?” Ashley asked with a little conspiratorial giggle.

“I thought about what my Dada might do for revenge,” Bree admitted.  “I’ve heard him and Daddy talking about what Dada did to someone called the Fiddler.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing exactly,” Bree said with a frown.  “He planted some seeds is what Daddy said.”

“Seeds?  Like in gardening?”

“No, he planted some ideas that made the Fiddler think it was better to leave.”

“How do you do that?” Ashley asked.  She wasn’t at all sure what Bree was talking about.

“I’m not really sure,” Bree admitted.  “I wouldn’t push her down some stairs, but I thought maybe I could make her think she was getting fat or that she was getting pimples on her face.”

“That’s evil, Bree.”

“I know.”

“But I like it.”

“Me too,” Bree laughed.  She could always count on Ashley to be on her side.

“What are you going to do?” Ashley asked.

“I don’t know,” Bree replied, all the laughter gone from her voice.  “Patrick doesn’t care that he made me sad.”

“Does he even know that you’re sad?”

“What?”

“Boys can be awful dumb sometimes.”

Bree thought about that for a moment.  “Yeah,” she agreed.  “Why can’t Patrick just ask me to the dance?”

“You are younger than him.  Brittany’s in his class at school … and … she’s starting to get boobies.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Ashley affirmed.  “I hear that boys like boobies.”

Bree looked down at her flat chest.  She wondered if she would ever get boobies.  There certainly was no sign of them yet.  “Is that why Patrick asked her … because she’s got boobies?”

“I bet that’s why.”

“What am I going to do, Ashley?  I don’t have boobies and I don’t think I’ll get them anytime soon.”  Bree felt like wailing in frustration.

“Maybe you should talk to your daddies,” Ashley suggested.

“I don’t think they know anything about boobies.”

“Then maybe one of your grandmothers.”

“They’re old.  They won’t understand.”

“What about JR?”

“Hm,” Bree said.  That was the first suggestion that might have some possibilities.  JR had a boyfriend.  Maybe she could explain how to get Patrick interested enough in her to ask her to the dance.  “You’re a genius, Ashley,” Bree declared.

“I am?”

“Yep.  See you soon.  I gotta go.”

“Bye,” Ashley said with a proud smile.  She was very pleased to have helped her friend with a difficult problem.  If only she could figure out what it was that she had done.