Part 13 (1/2)
He did look pale. Clarice put a hand on his forehead. ”Did you eat something? Oh my G.o.d, was it something we all ate?”
He took her hand in his and kissed it. ”No, it's not that. Here, let me escort you back to the table.” He didn't wait for her to answer, but led her through the still-dancing crowd, back to where the Moores sat chatting with each other. He gave her hand a squeeze, but said nothing else before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Clarice returned to her seat feeling a little flush and pale. Mrs. Moore noticed almost immediately, to Clarice's horror.
”Dear, what has you so shaken?” asked Vanessa, leaning across the table. ”And Harrison, too; is he ill?”
”Uh,” said Clarice, looking out over the crowd of happy dancers for any sign of Harrison. ”I'm not sure, he excused himself very suddenly. He may have had a phone call, that thing is always on vibrate even when I tell him to turn it off.” She let out a laugh she knew sounded far too nervous.
Clarice had no idea what had happened to Harrison; she only knew the moment had left her shaking and unsteady, her stomach twisting in knots. It was like something big was building in her heart that wouldn't be contained much longer, and she was terrified it would crush everything in its path.
She picked absently at the rich chocolate cake that arrived for dessert while the band played on. Mr. and Mrs. Moore sauntered out for another dance once their champagne was done, leaving Clarice alone at the table to catch her breath and her thoughts. She looked around again for Harrison, but all the faces in the crowd were unfamiliar and far away. She was aching for him, she realized. The way he had hurried off, so clearly upset, had upset her as well.
She already cared deeply for Harrison, she realized. She didn't want to see him that way.
The Moores returned with a wave of applause for the band was.h.i.+ng behind them. Only a few seconds later, Harrison cut through the crowd, a look of determination on his face as his right hand fiddled at the b.u.t.tons on his coat jacket. Clarice watched him with a curious look, but he only stared at the ground as he approached.
”Harrison, darling,” said Vanessa, as he came up behind Clarice's seat. ”Are you quite alright? You look pale as death. It's not the food in this dreadful place, is it?”
George shook his head instantly, wiping his mouth. ”Come now, dear, Harrison would never hire inferior chefs.”
Clarice felt Harrison at her back. Slowly, his big hands slid up her arms and came to rest on her shoulders. Instantly she felt lighter, and lifted one of her hands up to place on his.
”It's not the food, mum,” said Harrison. ”I'm not ill.”
”Then what's gotten into you, leaving your fiancee on the dance floor? Where are your manners?”
”Apologies, darling,” said Harrison to Clarice. He leaned down and planted a firm peck on her cheek. ”I wasn't myself there for a moment, not after you told me the news. I simply had to get some fresh air.”
Clarice squeezed his hand as an acceptance of his apology. But then his words slowly dawned on her. She almost spilled out the question - what news was he talking about? - but before she could, Harrison's grip on her shoulders tightened ever so slightly, a clear signal to her.
”News? What news?” asked Vanessa. ”We thought you might be taking a call, is it serious?”
”No, mum. Clarice told me some incredible news as we were dancing, and I just... I became overwhelmed.” Harrison smiled down at her, and Clarice tried to mimic it, but she knew there were questions in her eyes.
”What is it?” asked George.
”Father, mum... you're going to be grandparents. Clarice told me she is expecting.”
The words rang in Clarice's ears so loudly that she could barely register the sound of the band, the cheering of the crowd, or the ecstatic outburst of Vanessa as she scurried up from her chair to embrace her son and new, soon-to-be daughter. It was like she had cotton stuffed in her ears; like all the glitter and lights were a million miles away.
She only sat there in the chair with a forced smile while Vanessa wrapped her in an excited embrace. Above her, Harrison shook hands with his father. When he glanced back down to her, there was sadness and apology in his eyes, but it wasn't enough.
In that moment, all Clarice felt for Harrison was rage.
16.
Harrison
Maybe it was because the night had reached such emotional heights, but once he saw the look of anger on Clarice's face, Harrison felt a deep and ugly darkness rise up in his heart, as if he had taken a nose dive from that height and fallen hard. She had a cold steel in her eyes that was so far removed from the care and even love he had felt before that it almost made him literally s.h.i.+ver, right then and there in the ballroom.
As his parents descended into blind emotional celebration, Harrison realized the weight of what he had done, and found himself screaming internally for a way out. He watched helplessly as his mother wrapped Clarice in her arms, pressing their faces together and giving her pecks that left soft pink lipstick smears on Clarice's pale skin.
Clarice was a queen, as always, and it was only Harrison who could see the cracks in her expression that betrayed the reality of her emotions. On the surface, she was smiling and loving to her new parents, even when Harrison's mother started patting her flat tummy and listing off all the food products and activities Clarice would now have to avoid.
”Why'd you let us serve her champagne?” scolded his father, lifting up the bottle and shaking it towards Harrison.
”Dear, he didn't know!” chimed his mother. ”And anyway, it's very early, isn't it? Find me a woman who hasn't enjoyed spirits before she found out she was carrying and I'll find you a liar!” She squeezed Clarice again. ”She will be more careful from now on, won't you, dear?”
Clarice gritted her teeth and smiled. ”Of course, mother. We couldn't be happier about this.”
”This calls for a celebration,” said his father.
Harrison couldn't ignore the intense anger he saw in Clarice's eyes. It was as if he could hear her thoughts in his head, and right now, those thoughts were telling him very clearly that staying in this place and celebrating his newest lie was the last thing she wanted to do.
”Father, hold off on that,” said Harrison with a palm up. ”To be frank, Clarice is feeling a little weak this evening. I think it would be best if we turned in early to let her get some rest.”
Instantly the mood changed from celebratory to worrisome. ”What's wrong? Shall I fetch the doctor? You do have a night doctor on staff, don't you, Harrison?”
Harrison swallowed an impulse to return the barb. ”Of course, but it's not all that serious, is it darling?” He leaned over to look at Clarice, trying to explain with his eyes this sudden change of plan.
Clarice picked up on it very quickly. ”No, of course not.” She put one hand on her tummy and the other on her clavicle. ”It's just a little hot in here, to be honest, and all this excitement from this whole week, and sharing the news... I think I'm just a bit overwhelmed.”
His mother squeezed her into another hug. ”You take your rest, nothing is more important than your health! Harrison, get her to bed this instant.”
”On your command, mum,” said Harrison with a half-smile. He helped Clarice out of her chair and offered her a strong arm to walk on. ”Darling, let's get you back to the suite and order you some ice cream.”
Both his mother and father gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek before they would let them depart from the ballroom. As soon as they were through the gilded double-doors, Clarice dropped Harrison's arm, picked up the skirt of her dress, and stalked down the hall at a faster pace to get ahead of him. The anger she left in her wake was palpable, and when Harrison saw the look on her face as she stared at him in the lift car, anxiously pressing the Close Door b.u.t.ton before he could follow, he decided he would swing by the bar for a moment and take a few shots before he faced the disaster he had so deftly created.
She needed some time, and he really needed a drink.
Harrison entered the penthouse slowly, carefully. The bedroom lights were glowing, but everything else was dark. Through the windows he could see the glittering of the weekly luau on the beach, and the slow-moving lights of boats on the water.
He undid his tie and let it hang in loose ends around his neck. ”Clarice? Are you here?” he said.
She didn't answer right away. He made moves towards the bedroom to look for himself, but she appeared suddenly in the doorway, still in her beautiful golden dress. Backlit by the bedroom light, her hard stance and angry face made her look like an ancient G.o.ddess of war, ready to rain her wrath down on him.
And he deserved it.