CALIFORNIA PARADISE
Chapter Sixteen
Hot breezes floated up into the air and out
of sight. The sun softened as more and more clouds crowded in front of it. With
the passing of time, clothes began to get thicker and longer.
Rose stood on the balcony one October day,
watching the sunset. The wind floated in around her, playfully tossing her hair
about and billowing her skirt out. She giggled softly. The wind whistled softly
in her ear, and, just as quickly as it had come, sailed away. It was summer
saying good-bye.
Soon the rain came. Some days in great
torrents, and others as soft drizzle. Jack would complain that there was really
no point in living in California with weather like this. But no matter how the
weather was, Jack and Rose’s love held strong, and even the fiercest of winds
couldn’t break them apart.
*****
In November, Jack received a slip of paper in
the mail that read the following:
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dawson,
You are invited to a feast at the Hockley
mansion on Thanksgiving Day at five o’clock p.m. Please RSVP by November 11.
Sincerely,
The Hockleys
After showing it to Rose, they discussed
whether or not they should go.
"Do you really think he wants us
there?" Rose asked.
"Why else would he send us an
invitation?"
Rose shook her head. "This isn’t his
handwriting. His wife probably wrote it."
"Either way, Cal doesn’t seem the type
to let his wife do as she pleases. He had to have had a say in this."
"So, you think we should go?"
"Yeah. It might be--interesting."
Rose smiled. "Or entertaining."
*****
The night of the feast had arrived. Jack and
Rose watched as their car was driven into the parking garage by a valet.
"After you." Jack motioned for Rose
to walk ahead of him as they headed up the stairs to the front door of the
mansion.
With three loud knocks, Jack pounded on the
door. It quickly opened, and they found themselves facing a short man in a tux
with hair slicked back with so much grease you weren’t able to look directly at
it.
"Name?" he coldly asked.
"Dawson."
"Ah…yes, here it is. Right this
way."
*****
Surprisingly or unsurprisingly--which ever
way you care to look at it--Jack and Rose fit in well with the company.
When they first walked into the main hall to
mingle, Rose had almost the same effect on the men as she had when Cal first
saw her. Ever since she had met Jack again, her self-confidence had glared away
even the few flaws that she had previously had, making her an unknown curse to
mankind.
When she walked down the street, cars stopped
by the crossing guards halted a good minute longer to look at her, and the
rudest of passengers even took the liberty to shout out a few requests. When
meeting her face to face, even the boldest of men grew shy, mumbled, and went
home to take a cold shower. The few that stood around to talk for even a short
time found themselves thinking about her again at odd times until they were
old, old men.
Jack had seen the same thing happen to
himself more than once. He had always thought himself a good-natured person,
but obviously Rose brought out a part of him that made prude women who had been
forced to grow up much too quickly smile for the first time in ten years after
seeing him walk by, persuade hidden beauties to throw their corsets in the
garbage and let their hair down after seeing him up-close, and anyone that
found themselves in actual conversation with him would think about his deep
blue eyes for the next three weeks and not get a wink of sleep.
Jack and Rose both knew how to handle it now,
and through coaxing, conversation, and jokes, all the guests were soon relaxed
around them.
*****
"You must try the soup. It’s
fabulous!" Walker Johnson, Cal’s best friend since college, told Jack, who
was sitting right next to him.
"I’ve already had my share,
thanks."
Rose, on the other side of Jack,
unsuccessfully tried not to laugh. That was the eighth time in a fifteen minute
period that Walker had tried to get Jack to eat something.
Cal, at the head of the table and closest to
Rose, glanced at her for a second, but quickly started talking to Isabella
Hockley, his young wife, who has been carefully placed on the other side of him
and across the table from Rose.
"So, Isabella, how long have the two of
you been living in California?" Rose cut in.
"About seven or eight months now,"
Isabella softly replied.
"Do you like it here?" Jack asked.
"Yes." Even softer now.
"I’m sorry. What was that?"
"I like it very much." Jack and
Rose sighed. They hadn’t heard Isabella say over two sentences all evening.
"He’s got her trained like a dog,"
Rose whispered to Jack.
*****
Rose swallowed her last bite of pumpkin pie
and sat back in her chair; content. The evening had gone better than she’d
expected. Now that she had a husband that let her join into any conversation
her heart desired, she found dinner much more enjoyable and less boring.
The women were all quite dull, taking nibbles
out of all their food and contributing very little to the conversation. The
men, on the other hand, were a completely different story. When she had first
joined into their political conversation, they had smirked and smugly said,
"I really don’t think this is in your level of expertise."
But once Jack had invited her to join in and
she had the floor, everyone at the table was floored by her knowledge and
strong opinions.
All in all, this had been a great dinner.
*****
Jack took another sip of wine and looked up
at the clock. A quarter till nine.
He had really had fun tonight. It was nice to
be in a new atmosphere, especially one that his wife thrived in so well.
*****
Cal looked around at all his guests and
couldn’t help smiling. He was positive that each and every one of them had
enjoyed themselves to the full extent. This is the life, he thought to
himself, as his smile became wider. Then, it faded, as he remembered the one
thing he could never have.
*****
Isabella daintily put her napkin down and
looked over at her husband. He was so kind to her. And handsome. And so utterly
perfect.
It broke her heart knowing that no matter how
much love he had given her, he had never fully been happy. There was always
something missing that she had never been able to put her finger on. Until now.
There was something about the pretty girl
sitting across from her. Something that her husband liked.