Until We Meet Again(60)
death. Is it really possible that she could travel into my world, or
I into hers? Such thoughts seem almost ridiculous to entertain.
But what if?
As I whir past the rocky cliffs and ocean, I picture a future
with Cassandra. With her by my side, I’d keep writing. I’d tell
my old man that I don’t want to be a lawyer. I’d break free
from the carefully sculpted life that’s already been built for me
and seek some brilliant, gleaming, unknown horizon. With
Cassandra, I could do it.
I find myself on the overlook where Charles likes to take his
latest squeeze late at night. The thought makes me grin. Parking
my car, I step out to survey the view. It’s much more spectacular
in the daylight, but I suppose that’s not really the point.
Leaning against the craggy stone wall, I conjure up visions of
Cassandra. What would it be like to take her by the hand and
lead her off the beach? See what she looks like eating breakfast
in the sunny kitchen, her hair mussed from sleep? I want to
take her to the opera and hold her hand as the lovers sing their
final duet. I want to lie beside her in my bed and take her in my
arms as we fall asleep to the serenade of crickets.
My breath trembles at these yearnings I cannot quell. I watch
a pair of white gulls soaring high on the salty wind. They weave
together in the radiant sky, crying out to the eternities. How is
it that these birds can be together, but Cassandra and I can’t?
A determination, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, overcomes me. I won’t live without her. By the time I get back to Ned’s house, my dreams have filled me with a wild, pure
energy. It channels into a single thought: the future.
Ned calls for me as I come inside, but I’m on a mission. I go
straight for my room and burst through the door. I drop to my knees
by my bureau. Hidden in folds of trousers in the bottom drawer, I
find it. A small wooden box. And inside that, my mother’s ring.
In the late-afternoon sunlight, the sapphire looks like a small
star pinched between my fingers. A dozen tiny rainbows dance
on the carefully cut lines, casting light around the room. It’s
perfect. Holding the ring, I feel a pang of sorrow. I wish Mother
could meet Cassandra. She would have loved her sharp wit and
carefree energy. The two are alike in many ways.
This was the first piece of jewelry my father gave my mother.
They were too young to marry but still deeply in love. When
Father went away to Europe on holiday, he gave it to Mother
as a token of his undying affection in spite of the hundreds of
miles between them. Mother always cherished it. Sometimes I
think she loved it even more than the large diamond engagement ring that came a few years later.
A shadow falls over me, muting the ring’s shine. “Why,
Lawrence. For me?”
There’s no mirth in Fay’s tone. When I glance over my
shoulder, her eyes are as dark as storm clouds. Her legs are
planted defiantly. She’s completely lost her carefully perpetuated persona of sensuality. I stand to face her.
“Do you have anything to say to me?” she asks, venom simmering in her voice.
What can I possibly say? She’d reject the truth even more
than any weak excuse I could provide. I should have anticipated that this moment might come. Sooner or later, I’d have to address Ned’s crazy idea that Fay and I are engaged. But now
I’m at a loss for words.
Her lip curls with distaste. “Nothing, huh? You seem to have
plenty to say when I’m not around.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
She takes stomps to my desk and yanks open the drawer.
“I did some reading while I was waiting for you.” She grabs a
handful of my writings. The pages crinkle in her clenched fist.
“Care to explain this?”
I grab her wrist. “Let go of those.”
“You let go,” she says. She struggles out of my grip, bringing
her freed hand across my cheek with a hard slap.
I tense my jaw against the smarting pain. “I suppose I
deserved that.”
“I’ll say you did,” she snaps, her eyes welling with angry tears.
“You’ve been giving me the runaround for weeks. And now I
know why.”
“I’m truly sorry if I hurt your feelings. However, you had no
right to read my personal papers.”
“I’m your fiancée!”
“You’re not. No matter what agreement you and my uncle
have come to.”
“Who is she?” she shouts. “Who is this girl you’ve been seeing
behind my back? Who is this Cassandra?”
I’ve never seen her like this. Fay’s always so cool and in control. Always seductive and smiling. Always seeming to have the upper hand. She’s beside herself now. And I can’t help but feel
that it’s not just about me jilting her.
I touch her arm. “Fay—”
“Take your hands off me, you cad!”