Part 25 (2/2)
”Positive.”
”I'll pay for the cancellation fee, Mom,” Hailey promised. ”I think for a hundred dollars I can just change the ticket to fly home at the end of the semester.”
”Sounds good, Hail. Honestly.” Claire smiled at the excitement now evident in her daughter's voice. ”And I'm really glad you didn't join the CIA without discussing it with me first.”
”You've got such a warped sense of humor.” Hailey laughed. ”Maybe you should be writing comedy instead of historical romance.”
Claire's laughter joined Hailey's. ”I'm not sure there's a huge audience for my brand of neurosis.”
”I don't know,” Hailey said. ”Woody Allen's had a pretty solid career.”
That was true. ”Maybe I can find a way to do both. What do you think of neurotic Highlanders in kilts?” Claire teased. If she could find a way to work in some former Navy SEALs transported back to seventeenth-century Scotland, she'd be golden.
”Sounds good, Mom. Way better than naked neurotic Highlanders without them.”
”I'll talk to you later, sweetie,” Claire said. ”And when my Twisted Kilt series. .h.i.ts the New York Times bestseller list, I'll be sure to let everyone know that you were the one who came up with the idea.”
SAMANTHA AND THE OTHERS WATCHED IN SILENCE that Sunday night as Downton Abbey was turned into a convalescence home and Thomas, who still plotted with O'Brien, was put in charge. Captain Matthew Crawley and William, the footman, were still missing in action, prompting Mrs. Crawley to head for France to find her son. Ethel, the fired housemaid, showed up pregnant. No one moved for several long moments after the episode ended.
”Gosh, that was intense,” Brooke said finally. ”I'm exhausted just from watching it.”
”I know what you mean,” Samantha said, though the truth was she was exhausted from worrying about what she might have said to Jonathan while she was drunk and from pretending that she wasn't scared to death that life as she'd known it was over forever.
At that Wednesday's lunch, which Cynthia had refused to let her wiggle out of, Samantha discovered that Jonathan was still in Chicago and would then go on to Boston.
”Thank goodness he'll be back for Thanksgiving! But I do think he should have flown in the night before rather than the morning of,” Cynthia had said while watching Samantha's face for a reaction. ”Don't you?”
”It's wonderful that he'll be able to get back,” Samantha had said doing her best to hide her hurt and surprise. But the whole time Cynthia nattered on about which pies Doris would make and which silver Zora would be asked to polish, Samantha had fumed. Had he been planning to text her this information from the plane? Or had he thought he'd just show up at Bellewood as if he hadn't abandoned her for a whole month? And when had he decided to make Cynthia his messenger?
With the exception of their one drunken conversation, Samantha hadn't heard her husband's voice for a full four weeks. And she was fairly certain that the only reason he'd answered that night was because he'd a.s.sumed that no one-including his wife-would call at two a.m. for anything less than an emergency.
Once again she flushed with embarra.s.sment as she remembered the change in Jonathan's voice when he'd realized she wasn't in an ambulance on the way to a hospital. No matter how hard she'd tried to recall their conversation, her only remaining memory was of the blinding headache and vague sense of wrongdoing she'd woken with the next morning.
”Are you up for a brandy and a strawberry tart?” Claire asked as they left their sofa for ”afters.”
”Sure,” Samantha said, though she wasn't certain whether she'd be able to swallow either. Her appet.i.te had pretty much disappeared; even favorite dishes from Atlanta's finest restaurants seemed unable to revive it.
They were lingering in their usual spot just outside the clubroom near the elevators when Edward Parker came out to join them. ”Are both of you ready for next Sat.u.r.day?” he asked Claire and Brooke.
”Aye, aye, captain.” Claire saluted.
”I seem to be the only person in Atlanta who's not going to attend or work Alicia Culp's birthday party,” Samantha said.
”I'm going to be checking guests in when they arrive and Claire's going to be a.s.sisting Hunter with the family, but I think we still need a coat-check person,” Brooke said with a smile.
”The planning has been very impressive,” Edward said. ”Hunter's brought the whole Culp family in as if they're just here for the party. But after she's given the weeklong private Mediterranean cruise as her gift, she'll find out that the whole family is going. They'll leave for the airport in a procession of limousines just before the party ends.”
”Goodness,” Samantha said. She'd grown up with money and married more, but even she couldn't imagine spending so much on a single birthday. Leave it to her little brother to spare no expense with someone else's money.
”Hunter said that with the economic disaster in Greece, everyone is hurting and yachts and captains can be had for a song,” Brooke said.
Samantha felt a small frisson of pride; not something she was used to feeling with either of her siblings. It seemed that tough love had been the right thing after all. Perhaps if she'd cut him off sooner . . . no, there was no point in going there. She'd been carrying around far too much regret already.
”I must say when he puts his mind to it, Hunter is a veritable force of nature,” Edward Parker said.
”I'm so glad to hear it,” Samantha said, relieved. Like a hurricane, her brother could be unpredictable and destructive.
”He's different than I thought,” Claire said. ”He explained the whole European Union crisis and the devaluation of the euro to us. He knows a lot about investments and corporate structure. And the importance of diversification,” she added.
”When did you discuss all this?” Edward asked. Which was what Samantha was wondering.
”We had that meeting last week at the aquarium, where the party's being held, to go over the logistics and timing,” Brooke said. ”This event has a lot of moving parts.”
”I'll say,” Claire agreed.
Samantha tried to absorb the fact that Claire and Brooke now saw her brother in a far better light than they had on that Sunday night outside the clubroom. But then Hunter had always been able to make a good impression when he wanted to. She wondered if he had really changed under Edward's tutelage. Or had simply figured out how to camouflage his spots.
”When is Mr. Davis due back?” Edward asked.
Samantha flushed. ”He's flying in Thanksgiving morning.”
”Oh, that's good,” Brooke said. ”Do you cook the Thanksgiving dinner?”
Edward Parker, who'd sent runners for replacement dinners on numerous occasions, remained mercifully silent. The man really was the soul of discretion.
”Um, no,” Samantha replied. ”Thanksgiving is always at Bellewood.” She'd learned early in her marriage that there was little point in suggesting otherwise.
”What's Bellewood?” Brooke asked.
”My mother-in-law's home in Buckhead. It's where Jonathan grew up,” Samantha explained.
”Ooh-la-la,” Claire joked. ”It has a name and everything. It must be fancy.”
”Oh, it is,” Samantha said a little more forcefully than she should have. ”And their cook, Doris, does a wonderful traditional southern Thanksgiving spread.” She still couldn't believe her first time seeing Jonathan would take place with Cynthia's eyes pinned on them, dissecting their every word to each other-a.s.suming there were any.
”Do you celebrate Thanksgiving, Edward?” she asked, eager to banish the image.
”Well, it's not a holiday I grew up with, but I have been to some lovely Thanksgiving meals. Only one or two since I came to Atlanta. And my hosts were transplants, so the meals weren't particularly southern.”
”What are you doing for the holiday?” Samantha asked Brooke and Claire, realizing she hadn't heard either of them mention it.
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