Scene 1
"Andrew? Andrew, what happened?"
Andrew and Lou continued to stare each other in the face, even as Flynn's voice drifted up from the dropped receiver.
"You'd better pick it up," Lou said casually, breaking her stare and sitting on the arm of the couch to wait.
"Promise you won't freak out," Andrew said, turning from Lou as he returned to the phone.
"It's Lou, isn't it? She's there."
"She is, but it's okay. I'll take care of it."
"She heard all that?
"'fraid so. But about... that... what do you say?"
"I... well... but..." Flynn moaned and Andrew could tell she was holding the phone away. "This way I hurt Lou, the other way I hurt Laidey."
"Leave it to me. Trust me."
Andrew hung up the phone and, with a deep breath, turned to Lou.
"Honey, I-"
"You don't need to," she interrupted matter-of-factly.
"Excuse me?"
"I came here to call off our engagement, and I would be a hypocrite if I objected to..." She drifted off and gestured to the phone. "... that."
"Thank you. I know Flynn will be glad to know you don't hold her accountable. She didn't mean for this to happen any more than I did."
"Yes, well... hear me out. I've been seeing someone, too."
Andrew was surprised and more than a little disappointed, but he refused to let Lou see his reaction. But he needn't have bothered, as she was doing everything possible to avoid looking at him at all.
"I even started falling in love with him," Lou continued, "and I realized that never really loved you. And then I realized that I didn't love him either. And eventually I realized that I either didn't know what love was, or I was so desperate to find it that I would find it where it didn't exist."
"So..."
"I do want to find... someone..." Lou was drifting off, and Andrew could tell she wasn't really speaking to him anymore, though she still addressed her comments to him. "I know you never believed I wanted to be... intimate... but I do. With... someone. And when I find the person I can be intimate with, maybe... maybe that will be the person for me."
Andrew moved to rub Lou's shoulders, but she stood and took a few steps away before he could touch her.
"So... it's back to finding love in Port Alice, is it?"
"No." Lou turned and faced him. "No, I quit my job, that's why I'm here. I joined the same organization Malcolm's with. Kosovo still needs a lot of help, and they're sending me to an aid hospital there. I'll probably join Malcolm later."
"Wow, that's... sudden."
"Tomorrow, and that means I have to go. Mom will need as much time as I can give her to get over it."
Andrew nodded. Lou started toward the door, but stopped short of opening it. She reached into her purse and produced a ring.
"Here." She held it out to him. "This should be yours."
"No." Andrew stepped back. "I won't be able to anything other than sell it. Donate whatever you get for it."
Lou sighed and returned the ring to her purse. Andrew took the opportunity to approach her when she wasn't looking, brushing his fingers against her arm while kissing her cheek. The gesture startled her, but she forced herself not to shrink away.
"Goodbye, Andy," she whispered, opening the door. "And you'd better call Flynnie now."
Scene 2
"Well."
Michael hesitated at the door to the room he and Sara would share that evening at the bed and breakfast in Oregon. They had just been married, though neither had a ring to show for it. Michael's nervous anticipation was evident: his fidgeting hands, darting eyes, and stalled attempts to say more made it painfully obvious. Sara lacked emotion, or hid well whatever she was feeling.
"Well," she replied.
Michael finally began working the key in the lock, but dropped it. Sara sighed in frustration, picked it up herself, and opened the door. She walked in first, taking most of her bags with her. Michael followed meekly. He waited while Sara went about organizing a few of her things in the bathroom, but finally followed when he came to realize she was avoiding him.
"Sara..." He stood close behind her, holding her waist and whispering against her neck, lightly brushing his lips against it. "This can wait, you know."
"Don't, Michael," she said quietly, pulling away from him. "I don't want to."
"I... don't understand."
"I didn't get married so I could feel better when we did... that. I don't want to."
"I wasn't..." Michael stuttered. "... that wasn't what I was..."
"Yes it was. Eventually it would have been. It's not what I want."
Sara left the bathroom, brushing past Michael and leaving him blanking staring into the mirror. When he finally returned to the main room, he found Sara sitting with the phone at a small desk. She waved him quiet.
"Mom..."
"Sarala? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but... but I never got on the plane in Vancouver."
Madhuri lowered her voice and hesitated before speaking again. "Where are you, Sarala? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I'm in Oregon with..." Sara debated telling the whole truth, but finally found a strength within herself and an acceptance of what she'd done. "I'm with Michael."
"The... your boyfriend?"
"Yes, Michael... Michael Marshall is his name. We got married, Mom."
"Oh, Sarala!" Madhuri's surprise got the better of her and she raised her voice again. Sara heard the rush of footsteps and her mother's protests. "Patel, please... we love her, our daughter-"
"Sarala!" Patel's voice came over the phone, gruff and firm. "Where are you?"
"I'm in Oregon. I got married."
Sara said it firmly with a passing hope that her conviction would make an impact on her father. But Patel said nothing, though Sara could hear his heavy breathing.
"Dad... please, let me talk to Mom again."
"No," he said finally, in a tone that startled Sara in its firmness. "No, you made your decision. You know what the consequences were." There was a long pause, and Sara thought she heard Patel's labored breathing. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and held a note of regret. "Goodbye, Sarala."
And he hung up.
Sara kept the phone to her ear, neither moving nor making a sound, until Michael finally went to her and took the phone from her hand.
"It was exactly what I expected," she sighed, "but I didn't expect to feel so much... loss. My mother doesn't agree with him, I can tell, but... knowing that she doesn't but can't do anything just makes it worse, I suppose." Sara sighed and attempted to shake the thoughts from her head. "You'd better call home."
Michael began dialing with little hesitation. The maid answered.
"Are my parents home?"
"Still up at Regent Island, sorry."
"All right... is Auntie awake?"
"I think so. Hold on."
Michael tapped a finger on the desktop while he waited, his chest tightening.
"Hi, baby," Aunt Grace greeted warmly.
"Hi, Auntie. Um... I wanted to talk to Mom and Dad, but they're away. I..."
"Spit it out, baby."
"I got married. I'm down in the States."
"Silly, impulsive boy," Grace finally said, but there was a lightness in her voice that told Michael she wasn't angry. "Well, bring her home. This is not something you should tell over the phone. I will not tell anyone for you."
"I understand, you're right... I'm-we're-coming home tomorrow. But, Auntie..."
"Yes?"
"What will they say?"
"I can't tell you that, baby, but they love you."
Michael nodded slowly. "Thanks, Auntie. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."
Sara had left the desk by the time Michael set the phone down, and he turned to find her gazing out the window. With a disheartened sigh, he found himself fearing the wait for tomorrow to come.
Scene 3
"Did the carpenters wake you?"
The clamor of work from downstairs had likely wakened the entire street, but Frankie refrained from pointing that out to her mother. Victoire had undergone a transformation since receiving the money. She was excited about running her business again, and the speed at which the expansion was going made her happier than she'd been in a long time. She'd prepared a veritable feast for breakfast and began loading Frankie's plate when she appeared in the kitchen.
"No, Mama."
"Oh, good. But sit, eat."
Victoire pulled the chair our for her daughter, and Frankie could tell there was something more on her mind.
"What has you so cheerful, Mama?"
"Just happy," Victoire replied, her tone implying something more. But she couldn't contain herself any longer, and sat down at the table. "I did not think to do this until this morning. You have worked in the store with me for three years because I needed your help, even though I could not pay you."
"I know, Mama, and I wanted to."
"And I love you for it, and that is why I am giving you this."
She produced a slip of paper from her pocket and slid it across the table. Frankie turned it over and gaped.
"Mama, why?"
"A pay cheque, for all the pay cheques I was not able to give you."
"I cannot take it, Mama, please."
She tried to pass the cheque back, but her mother refused to take it.
"Please... you sacrificed so much. It will mean very much to me if you take this."
Frankie sighed and nodded as she tucked the cheque into her pocket. "I love you, Mama."
Scene 4
Burke shut the noises of brunch at Bridges in Avalon out of his office and sat at his desk. He was trying to appear official and nonchalant, and chuckled when he realized there was no one there to see his nervousness anyway. On a small slip of paper in front of him was printed the name "Anna O'Malley." It was circled several times, in red a blue, as if he might miss it there. Just underneath, in printing almost as big, was the phone number.
"This is it," he said with a deep breath, and picked up the phone to dial the number. "I'd like to speak with Ms. Anna O'Malley please."
"Ms. O'M- Oh, yes. I'm sorry. What is your name, please, sir?"
"Burke Avalon. I think she'll know who I am."
"One moment, sir."
There was a long pause, longer than Burke anticipated. Longer than he felt comfortable with. Even after the line was picked up again, there was a long pause before the woman spoke.
"I'm sorry. There's been a mistake."
It was a different woman, Burke knew that much. Her voice was shaky and emotional, but strong.
"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry," Burke stuttered. "This is Anna O'Malley?"
"I... yes, but there's been a mistake. I changed my mind. I never should have-I'm sorry... to put you through this. But please don't call me again."
The line went dead before Burke could respond, and he sat perfectly still with the phone in his hand until it started beeping. The noise, monotonous and unrelenting, brought him back to consciousness. He pressed for a dial tone and hit a number on the speed dial.
"Angel's Restaurant, how may I help you?"
Burke hesitated briefly to ensure a steady voice. "Theodora Avalon, please. It's her brother."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Avalon, Ms. Avalon is out of the restaurant this afternoon. You might try her cell phone."
"Thank you."
Burke was having a difficult time keeping his composure, and he fumbled through his address book several times before finding his sister's number listed right where it was supposed to be. He dialed.
"We're sorry. The cellular customer you have dialed is not available-"
He slammed the phone down and heaved his body deep into his chair, covering his face with his hands. He didn't move when Tina burst into the room, her usual bubbly self.
"Burke, I told Georgie just what you told me to and he agreed! I get a to be a part-time hostess. I always wondered what it would be like to work here with you two!"
"Tina, please," Burke said, trying to remain calm. "Now is not the greatest time."
But his unsteady words and slightly quivering lower lip gave a deeper perspective to his understated remark, and even Tina caught it.
"Is something wrong?"
She started around his desk, and ignored his attempt to wave her off.
"Please, just..."
Burke stopped himself when the lump in his throat began to rise. But when he felt Tina's hand touch his shoulder, he lost all self-control and leaned into her, clutching her arm as he began to cry. Tina was at a loss-she had never in her life had to deal with a crying man and didn't know what to do. She finally settled on stroking his hair, but her was awkward.
"Was it... your mother?" she guessed.
"She talked to me long enough to tell me not to call again."
He spit the words out quickly, not wanting to embarrass himself further by choking up and interrupting himself with his own crying. But Tina being there was oddly... comforting. There were too many conflicting emotions running through his head to think too clearly but he did wonder briefly at it, as Tina's presence usually made him tense and irritable. He shifted a bit when Tina bent down, giving her enough room to perch on the edge of his chair.
Tina was still at a loss. Burke was childlike and she felt a pang of maternal instinct, but there was also something about his vulnerability that attracted her. Finally she succumbed, and comforted him the only way she knew how.
The kiss was deep, filled with emotion, but not passionate. Burke was definitely the receiver of it, and he fully submitted; he was curious as well as momentarily distracted. He forgot himself and felt only her, her body next to his, her lips on his, her tongue... But by the time it occurred to him to become a full participant, Tina was pulling away. For a brief moment he thought he noted a tint of color in her cheeks, but it was in the fleeting moment before he began the kiss again. This one ended more quickly, and Burke looked after Tina with a profound sense of loss as she approached the door.
But all she did was close it, lock it soundly, and return to his desk.
Scene 5
Grace shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed but fully dressed, the morning newspaper in hand. The class she had to attend was fine, but she hated having to get up that early for it. She poured her coffee and put a bagel in the toaster before pulling out the classifieds, scanning through the employment section until a particular add caught her eye.
Qualified tutor required for recently blind girl, 8. Home schooling, Braille instruction, etc. Fax resume, cover letter, and references to 555-4701. DL required, must submit to criminal record check.
Grace looked at it curious for a moment, then nodded as she tore the ad out and put it in her pocket. Her bagel demanded her attention, and she retrieved the front section of the paper when she returned to the table. She froze when she saw the headline.
Marshall Industries to clear-cut fragile Regent Is. habitat
Scene 6
Frankie found her mother in the new half of their store, fondly running her hand over the newly built shelves. She hated bringing up the subject again, but it was something she had to do for herself.
"Mama?"
Victoire smiled and turned. "Yes?"
"I know you told me to leave this alone, but... I hoped you would change your mind about contacting your old friend."
Victoire sighed, frustration instantly overtaking her good mood. "Frankie, no. Just trust me. Sometimes the truth can be painful, and it is better left in the past. Leave it alone."
Frankie expected the response, and she stood there for a while trying to sum up the courage to say to her mother what she'd bee planning all afternoon. The courage never came.
"I'm sorry, Mama... I love you."
* * *
Frankie began writing the minute she returned to her room.
Dear Mama,
I suppose it makes me a coward for writing what I could not say to you face, but this is important to me and I love you to much to openly go against your wishes. I have found Grace Marshall and spoken to her. She was as silent as you regarding your history, but she was a kind woman who seemed to love both of us very much. There is something special there and I just have to know what it is before it is too late. Miss Marshall is ill and not expected to live much longer. I know you will be able to run the store without me, as the new employees are more than competent. Please forgive me, but I am going to see Grace Marshall. I must. I love you, and I hope to speak to you soon. Love,
Frankie.
Frankie removed a suit case and a backpack from her closet and left the letter on her mother's bed before going downstairs. Her mother was still in the new addition, and Frankie called in to her.
"Mama, I am going out to see a friend."
"All right."
Frankie walked out onto the street, rounded the corner, and hailed a taxi.
"Airport, please."
Scene 7
Pierce had just returned home for lunch with Arlie, and Grace from her morning classes, when Michael brought Sara home. The mood was already tense, as Pierce was trying to forget the crisis at Marshall Industries caused by the article in the morning's paper. Sara waited in the kitchen while Michael went out onto the patio to prepare his family.
"Michael, there you are!" Arlie looked up from her plate, relieved. "Auntie said you called to say you'd be gone for the night, but she wouldn't say any more."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Michael noted his father's mood, and convinced himself it was concern, not stalling, to ask him about it. "Something wrong, Dad?"
"I guess you haven't heard yet. Someone leaked lies to the papers about the Regent Island deal. The scandal is... well, big."
"Oh," Michael cringed.
"But you've got something on your mind," Pierce said. "I can tell. What is it?"
"I know it's not the best time to tell you, but I kinda have to now. I... um... I got married yesterday."
Pierce dropped his fork, Arlie her sandwich, and Grace her book.
"You..." Arlie was too stunned for words, but the news had already brought tears to her eyes. Disappointed tears.
"Why the- You're too young." Michael was unable to judge his father's feelings. "The age is nineteen."
"Not... not in the U.S."
He held up his hand, gesturing for them to wait, and went to the kitchen door. He motioned for Sara to come out, and it was a while before she actually did.
"This is Sarala Kumar... Marshall... my wife."
And Arlie fainted.
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