Part 14 (1/2)
”Take your coat?” Magnolia asked, aware that she sounded as for mal as a fusty maiden aunt. At least she hadn't called him sir.
”Here's a better idea,” Harry said. ”I take off my own coat, you open this little gift, and then we play kiss and make up in your bed room.” He placed his coat on the bench and handed her the small blue bag. It felt light in her hand.
They sat down on the bench. His thigh touched hers. She pulled the box out of the bag and slowly unwrapped the white silk bow, care fully placing it on a table. She opened the box and fingered the blue felt bag.
Magnolia pulled out a s.h.i.+ny sterling silver cuff half covered with an ornate golden blossom. She gasped.
”Tiffany calls it their Magnolia bracelet,” Harry said.
How many times had she noticed Tiffany's reliable upper-cornerof-page-three Times ads and admired this very bracelet advertised? Every time she saw the photograph-or wandered through the store and casually tried on the real thing, hoping the salespeople hadn't grown to recognize her-she coveted the bracelet, and, twice, she'd almost bought it. But where was that flutter of excitement tonight?
”Thank you, Harry,” she said. ”You have the most magnificent taste.” That much was true.
”Isn't it gorgeous?” Harry said, taking the bracelet out of her hand.
”Here, Cupcake, put it on. It looks so beautiful on your wrist.”
She had to agree, as she twisted the silver and gold bracelet to catch the foyer's dim light. But the ad called ”Magnolia” a cuff. If she accepted this gift, she'd be shackling herself to a relations.h.i.+p she knew in her gut would never be right. Maybe she was having a Blink moment she'd later regret, but she didn't want this gift, not from Harry. As he took her wrist, she pulled back and stood up. ”Really, thank you so much,” she said, removing the cuff. ”It's a hugely extravagant present. But I don't think so, Harry.” Magnolia began to choke up.
He looked at her. A tear fell on the sleeve of her silk pajamas. ”I know I've acted like a fool, Magnolia,” he said. ”But let's just forget about that.” He stepped forward.
She raised one palm to block him.
”Let's talk about it,” he said. ”I'm willing to overlook all that busi ness with Tommy.”
”There's nothing to say, Harry. Except that it just doesn't feel right.
Let's not make this more difficult than it needs to be. I've had my sea son's fill of scenes.” Magnolia carefully placed the bracelet in the felt bag, the box, and then the bag. ”We're finished.”
”I'd like to know where I've gone so terribly wrong, Magnolia?”
”Let's see,” she said. ”Talk about blame the victim-you made me feel like a hooker when my friend's husband came on to me. You wouldn't see reason when I tried to explain. You started carrying on in front of my boss and publisher at Bebe's party and I see how you look at other women. But a lot of it's me. With Bebe at the magazine, I'm stepping around land mines every day-I'm not going to make any man very happy right now.”
As she said it, she knew she and Harry were just a miniseries, not a hit that would go into eternal syndication. ”Harry, I like you.” She decided not to admit that even a week ago, she thought ”love” might be a more apt word. ”But I'm getting too old to be in relations.h.i.+ps that I know won't work.”
”I see,” he said. ”I suppose this is some sort of womanly coming-of age rite.” He snickered and picked up his coat from the bench.
Magnolia handed him the bag.
”You know, I thought Englishwomen were batty. But you Ameri cans are nuts.”
For several minutes after Harry closed the door behind him, Mag nolia was still standing in the same spot, feeling the special burn fueled by disappointment. She'd like to have a man in her life, prefer ably the man. But at least she was smart enough not to trick herself into staying with the wrong one.
Where was I, she thought. Ah, on the way to the kitchen. But noth ing now seemed less appealing than leftover cake. She returned to her chair, threw another log on the fire, and stared at the flames. Lola brought over her squeaky mouse, which Magnolia threw across the room. The dog scampered off and settled down for a good long chew.
Magnolia reopened her book and read the first page three times. She couldn't remember a word.
The phone rang. Magnolia welcomed the intrusion.
”Gold!” Bebe said. ”Could you be any harder to get hold of ? Why didn't you call me back? I said it was important.”
”That you did, Bebe,” Magnolia said, subdued. ”I'm so sorry. Did you want to change a line on the cover again? Can you hang on a minute? My files are in the other room.”
”Don't be an a.s.s. It's not the magazine.”
”Oh?”
”It's a delivery.”
Magnolia was about to mention that it was her birthday and she'd just broken up with Harry-she wasn't in the mood to play messen ger girl-but decided she'd let it pa.s.s. ”A delivery? You want me to pick something up?”
”No, just stay put. Gotta go.” Bebe clicked off without even thanking her for sticking around on a Sat.u.r.day night. But what difference did it make? She was in for the evening anyway. Maybe a herd of goats would arrive for the weekend and camp out until Bebe moved them to the farm she was buying upstate. Perhaps they'd be good company.
Magnolia settled herself again in her chair and started channel surfing. She could at least manage a movie. As she tried to decide between The Way We Were and Sleepless in Seattle, however, the doorbell rang. Had Harry been standing in her hallway all this time, pleading for a second chance? He had more stamina than she.
Magnolia looked through the peephole. All she could see was an enormous bunch of yellow roses. ”Special delivery,” said a familiar British accent. Only it wasn't Harry's.
”My good friend Bebe Blake asked me to deliver these to you,” the voice said. ”If you'll open up. Oh, and from both of us, a very happy birthday.”
Was that a Hugh Grant impersonator standing in her hallway?
Chapter 2 1.
Hugh Grant and the Glamazon Girls.
”I looked through the peephole and there he was,” Magnolia repeated before an expanding circle of editors and designers crowding her office and overflowing into the hall. She felt as if she were lip-synching a stump speech-she'd already told Abbey and her parents the whole story-but it wasn't half bad to revisit life at the red-hot center of the universe.
” 'Care for a short drive?' ” he said. Magnolia tried to get the accent right.
” 'Mind if I change?' ” I answered.”
” 'Well, shoes might be in order,' ” he said, ” 'but as far as the rest goes, you look quite swish. I'll be Tracy to your Hepburn.' So there I was, in my jammies-they were fancy, but I was wearing zilch under neath-and off I went. We got in a normal black town car, nothing slimy like a stretch. 'Spot of tea? Champagne? Gatorade?' he said. I fixated on his eye crinkles, the compact body, that voice. Bull's-eye look-alike. Then he handed me a red envelope.”
Magnolia took a large gulp of her coffee as Fredericka, Ruthie, Phoebe, Sasha, and the others listened attentively. Cameron, she noticed, walked away when she got to the part about no panties. ”It said, 'Yes, it's Hugh. You think I'd send a fake? P.S. You can have him-not my type. Bebe.' ”
”Bebe!” Fredericka hooted. ”Talk about a power present. Vat ever became of giving a nice scarf ?”
”Now do we have to think she's adorable and kind?” Sasha asked, but Magnolia ignored her-the truth was, much of Bebe was ador able and kind-and continued to report on the drive, which lasted fifty-five minutes, exactly the length of a shrink session, but proved far more therapeutic than any she'd ever experienced.
”We chatted about how much he loved going on Bebe's telly hour,”
Magnolia said. ”And he wanted to know if when American women told you what they want in the bedroom-down to the millimeter, in full sentences, practically with charts and graphs-they're being bossy or helpful. Both, I a.s.sured him.”
Magnolia decided to edit out the portion when she gave Hugh the Cliffs Notes of her most recent battered romance. ” 'Did I do the right thing to break up?' ” she'd asked. ” 'Did I blow it with Harry? He's such a hothead.' ”
” 'Stay away from English public school blokes,' ” Hugh cautioned.