Storybook Love: A Storybook Park Romance Page 12

  “Hey, Bec. Sara said you were sick. I brought you homemade chicken soup.” Leslie held up a Tupperware container.

  “Oh, Les,” Rebecca said and burst into tears.

  Fifteen minutes later, the sisters leaned against each other on Rebecca’s loveseat, passing the Tupperware container and a plastic spoon back and forth. A carton of chocolate chip ice cream waited for them on the coffee table.

  “So, let’s review,” Rebecca said. “I let myself fall for this guy against my better judgment. I’m ready to tell him I love him, and then I find out he’s just been using me all along—exactly like my last boyfriend. Can I pick ‘em or what?”

  “Well, my husband left me for a woman barely in her twenties, and my seven-year-old son is acting younger and younger every day. Another month, and I’ll be breastfeeding again.”

  The two looked at each other and giggled. The giggles soon turned to raucous laughter.

  * * * *

  Rebecca spent the rest of the week preparing for Saturday’s fundraiser, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was breaking into pieces. By Friday afternoon, they had sold only half the tickets for the ball, and she had something new to worry about. Just as she was estimating how much money they would lose, the intercom buzzed insistently.

  “Bec, it’s me,” Sara said through the speaker. “You’d better come out to the merry-go-round. There’s been an accident.”

  Rebecca sat frozen to her chair for what seemed an eternity. Panic pulsed through her. This could finally do it. This could be Storytown’s swan song. She pulled herself together and hurried outside.

  Several customers crowded around the bench outside the merry-go-round. Emily’s parents knelt on the ground in the middle of the throng.

  “Donna? Jack?”

  They turned to look up at her, allowing a clear view of Emily holding her stuffed bear and rocking back and forth on the bench.

  Rebecca came closer. She knelt down beside the girl’s parents and asked, “What happened?” She gently touched Emily’s hair.

  “She fell off the ride,” Donna said. “We think she may have broken her arm. She rarely feels pain, so that’s why she isn’t crying.”

  Rebecca turned to the other customers. “Folks, could you give us some room?” The group quietly dispersed.

  Sara approached from the direction of the restaurant with a plastic bag filled with ice. She handed it to Donna, who placed it against Emily’s left arm.

  “How did she fall?” Rebecca asked.

  “She dropped her bear,” Donna explained. “She leaned over to get it and slipped off. She landed on her arm.”

  “Hon, we really need to get her to a doctor,” Jack said.

  “I’m so terribly sorry,” Rebecca said, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “We’ll of course cover your medical expenses. Will you keep in touch?”

  Donna nodded as Jack lifted Emily into his arms. The three left for the exit.

  Once Rebecca and Sara were alone, they looked at each other.

  “Oh, boy,” Sara said.

  “You can say that again. I’d better notify the insurance company.”

  “Will the rates go up again?”

  “Probably. Poor Emily. The one place where she seems to enjoy herself. She’ll probably never want to come back. If there’s even a Storytown to come back to.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Rebecca lay listlessly in bed, wondering if life could get any worse. The man she believed to be the love of her life had left her. She would almost certainly not be able to save Storytown, what with the lukewarm response to the ball and the insurance costs rising yet again. And Donna had called to say that Emily did indeed have a broken arm.

  She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and sleep for a week, but she had to focus on the fundraiser, which would begin in less than twelve hours. She sighed and climbed out of bed to head for the shower.

  She washed her hair twice, distracted by memories of showering with Jon. Damn him. How long would it take to get him out of her system? She’d needed years to get over Mark, and she knew now she hadn’t even loved him.

  Throwing on jeans and a sweatshirt and downing a cup of coffee, she left the apartment, climbed into the car, and drove to Xavier House. She parked her blue VW Beetle at the top of the long driveway. Her caterer opened the massive front doors and came out to greet her.

  Rebecca gathered up her purse and schedule from the passenger seat and stepped out. “Karen, how’s it going?”

  “Very well. I think you’ll be pleased. It’s beginning to look like a real fairy tale castle.”

  The two women entered the building, and Rebecca gasped. The effect was magical. All around her, she saw helium balloons, white twinkle lights, candelabras, and pink and red roses. She spied a rolled-up red carpet at the bottom of the grand staircase, ready to be unfurled when the guests arrived.

  “What do you think?” Karen asked.

  “It’s beautiful. Can I see the dining room?”

  Karen nodded and led her further into the mansion. Inside the dining room, white tablecloths covered ten round tables, and the centerpieces each held a single red candle within a bouquet of pink roses. At the table in the center of the room, gold-plated thrones with red cushions had been set up in place of chairs.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Karen said.

  “Yes. Gorgeous.” Rebecca approached one of the tables. At each setting, a small glass slipper held a placard. Each card had a heart in the top left corner and a picture of a princess in the lower right. She leaned into the centerpiece and breathed in the pungent scent of the roses.

  “You and your assistant will be at the center table. You’ll be with the mayor and his wife. Oh, and your assistant’s fiancé.”

  “Perfect. It really is beautiful, Karen. You’ve done a great job.”

  “Want to come take a peek in the kitchen?”

  Rebecca followed her to the kitchen, where the staff bustled from counter to stovetop to oven. Karen nabbed a freshly-fried crab cake and broke it in half, handing one piece to Rebecca and taking the other for herself. “Let me know what you think. We’re just testing at the moment. We’ll wait until later for the ones we’re serving.”

  Rebecca took a nibble and moaned. “Oh, that’s heaven.”

  “Maybe a bit more parsley,” Karen said to one of the staff people.

  “How about the ballroom?” Rebecca asked as she and Karen returned to the front of the mansion.

  “We’re still working on it. We’re waiting to have the banners and the bubble machine delivered.”

  “Do you need me for anything?” Rebecca asked, hoping Karen would say yes. She wanted to keep busy.

  “No, go home. Rest. I can’t wait to see your princess costume.”

  “I’ll see you later, then. Call if you need anything.” Rebecca reluctantly left.

  Rather than driving home, however, she found herself heading toward Storytown. She parked in her usual space, grabbed her work keys, and locked her purse in the trunk. She unlocked the side gate and made her way inside the park.

  In the office, she located Mittens, poured some food into his bowl, and changed his water. She checked the answering machine. There were a few messages; a request for rental information, a question about birthday parties, and a field trip booking.

  She still hoped for a message from Jon—something to indicate why he hadn’t called and that he loved her after all. Why didn’t she just admit it? She couldn’t turn off her feelings. She was in love with him. Too bad he’d never felt the same way.

  At her desk, she gazed regretfully at Gran’s picture, picked up the snow globe, and turned it upside down. The castle inside so resembled their own Cinderella set. That must have been why Jon had given it to her. How could someone so cruel have given her something so thoughtful?

  She scratched the top of Mittens’ head, murmured to him, and went outside to the shoe. She looked over the souvenirs and chose a purple storybox key from th
e racks.

  She visited the Emerald City set first. She inserted her key into the storybox. The soundtrack switched on, regaling her with a synopsis of L. Frank Baum’s immortal story. She crammed her feet into the silver slippers cemented to the ground, remembering how many times she’d done the very same thing when she was little, but her feet were too big now. Was it a metaphor for her life? Was it time for her to grow up and acknowledge that life was not a fairy tale? That true love didn’t exist? That everyone was out for himself? Being an adult certainly wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Fighting back melancholy, she went backstage to the puppet theater. The current show was Sleeping Beauty. She slipped the Beauty puppet onto her hand and maneuvered it around. As a staff member, she had often performed the puppet shows, but, as the manager, she didn’t have the time.

  She lingered over The Wind in the Willows set, playing the storybox and admiring the statues of Toady and Mole. She checked her watch, surprised to see it was getting late. Sara was coming over soon so they could get dressed together. She’d better get home.

  A Mercedes pulled up to her as she opened the door to the Beetle. Prepared to point out the sign saying Storytown was closed for a special event, she was astounded to see Jon’s father at the wheel. He lowered the window and leaned out.

  “What do you want?” Rebecca said, not bothering to temper the rudeness in her voice.

  “I hate having to repeat myself. I will say it again. Leave my son alone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re a very poor liar. I don’t know how you got him to give up everything for you, but I’m telling you to walk away.”

  Rebecca struggled to contain her confusion. What in the world did he mean? “Look, I have an event to get to. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Stop bothering me.”

  “This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,” Eastman said. He rolled up the window and sped off.

  Rebecca shook her head. She couldn’t fathom what Eastman had been talking about. What did he mean that Jon had “given up everything” for her? It seemed to her he had taken rather than given.

  Anger, confusion, and sadness jockeyed for her attention, but she had to keep moving. She pushed her feelings away, settled into the car, and drove home.

  * * * *

  Sara had dyed her hair jet black. Once she was attired in her purple lady-in-waiting costume and had her makeup on, her beauty amazed Rebecca. She had never seen her friend look so lovely.

  She directed Sara to the full-length mirror in the bedroom. “You look gorgeous.”

  Sara turned this way and that, admiring herself, and Rebecca hid a smile.

  At last, Sara said, “Your turn.”

  She helped Rebecca step into a pink satin princess dress. She zipped up the back and placed a cone-shaped hat over Rebecca’s curls.

  “You look so pretty, Bec. Just like a princess. Too bad Jon isn’t coming. There’s no way he’d be able to take his eyes off you. Hey, did you ever hear from him? You haven’t said anything about him in days.”

  Rebecca knew this was her cue to tell Sara that Jon had dumped her, but her assistant was glowing. The news could wait another day, so she just shook her head noncommittally.

  * * * *

  Rebecca received dozens of compliments as she greeted her guests disembarking from the horse-drawn carriages. She tried to be as gracious to each person as possible, but her disappointment over Jon weighed her down. How could she have fallen for yet another Mr. Wrong? How could she have been so gullible? And chances were, she soon wouldn’t have Storytown to distract her from her broken heart.

  The costumes ranged from the simple to the elaborate. There were a number of Alices in Wonderland—women in blue dresses, white aprons, and long blonde wigs with headbands. Fortunately, none of the Alice dresses rivaled the unseemly Halloween costume Rebecca had tried on. The mayor’s olive green shirt and pants revealed him as Peter Pan, and his wife was Tinkerbell, with wings attached to the back of her dress. Rebecca especially admired the woman with a miniature mattress sewn to the back of her gown—she was the princess from The Princess and the Pea. The man dressed as an egg with a crack down his side elicited giggles from the other guests as he squeezed through the doorway.

  At six thirty, when a young man in a Prince Charming costume approached Rebecca, Sara came over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Bec, this is Joey. Joey, this is Rebecca.”

  Rebecca smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you, Joey. Congratulations on your engagement.” She looked at Sara fondly. “I’m so glad you and Sara met. Have a wonderful time tonight.” She was pleased that Sara could be happy if she herself couldn’t.

  Joey took Sara’s arm, and they disappeared into the crowd.

  A half hour later, the guests milled about the room, eating crab cakes and sipping on the champagne cocktails Karen’s staff brought around on silver trays. Rebecca remained at the door a while longer to greet late arrivals, and then Karen came to tell her they were ready to serve dinner. The two walked around the room, directing everyone into the dining area.

  Rebecca nibbled at the food before her. Her dress cut into her waist, but her inability to eat stemmed from depression more than anything else. She felt she had lost everything that had ever mattered to her—Jon, and almost certainly, Storytown.

  Just before dessert was served, Karen came into the room and whispered in Rebecca’s ear, “There’s someone at the door for you.”

  Rebecca’s breath caught, rendering her unable to respond. She gathered up her skirt and hurried to the front of the mansion. Peter Flynn from the Hillmont Gazette stood at the door, a female photographer in tow.

  “Peter.” She grappled with keeping the disappointment from her tone.

  “You look great, Rebecca. You’ll be the first picture we take.”

  She’d completely forgotten Peter was coming. The Gazette printed a story and pictures following the fundraiser every year. In fact, she’d been counting on it for the publicity. She beckoned Peter and the photographer inside and invited them to join her for dessert.

  A little after eight thirty, Rebecca traveled from table to table, asking the guests to follow her into the ballroom for the dancing. Once everyone had gathered, Mayor Brighton climbed up on the stage. He called for all the women to join him at the front of the room, and an excited throng of females rushed forward. He indicated to Rebecca that she would be the first to be auctioned off, and she got up on the stage to stand beside him. But before the mayor could begin the bidding, the door of the ballroom slammed open.

  “I bid five hundred dollars for Rebecca Charles,” a voice boomed. Rebecca couldn’t believe her eyes. Jon!

  Chapter 13

  Jon strode purposefully toward the stage. Rebecca took in his costume of a long black tunic, dark cap, and boots. A long, curly wig covered his hair, and he’d drawn a mustache under his nose.

  He vaulted onto the stage to stand beside her.

  A rush of feelings swept through her—surprise, relief, apprehension—and she couldn’t speak. But then she became aware of the guests observing them closely. She said into the microphone, “Folks, we’ll return to the auction in a few minutes. For now, enjoy the music.” Her mouth came a little too close to the mike, and her words echoed throughout the room. She motioned for the string quartet to play.

  Rebecca took Jon’s arm and led him off the stage, through the ballroom, and out into the entryway.

  “Jon, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s going on?”

  He took her hand and led her over to the staircase. He helped her spread out her dress so she could settle down on one of the steps. He stood on the stair beneath her.

  “You look incredible, by the way. Just when I’m convinced you can’t get any more beautiful, you surprise me.”

  “Where have you been?” She knew she sounded shrill, but her emotions were catching up with her.

&nb
sp; “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.” It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but he stayed silent.

  “Jon?” she prompted.

  “I’ll explain in a minute, but I want to tell you something first. I’ve emptied out my savings account and put my apartment up for sale. I want to buy into Storytown, Rebecca. Not to turn it into a ThemeWorld park, but to stay as it is, just the way you want it. The way we want it.”

  “But why didn’t you try to call me….” The full force of Jon’s words hit her. “Did you just say you want to buy into Storytown?”

  “Yes—I was hoping we could run it together. We’ll keep the prices the same, but expand into your untapped land and get better publicity. Maybe do a series of commercials.”

  Rebecca let out a hysterical half-laugh and dropped her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She looked up at Jon and said, “This is just so much to absorb. But what about your father? Isn’t he angry with you?” This must have been what Eastman meant when he said Jon had given up everything for her.

  Jon nodded. “Yep.” He sat down next to her, careful not to land on her dress. “I’m working on smoothing things over, but I told him I need to live my own life now, work where I want to work, and be with the woman I want to be with. It’s about time.”

  “You did that for me?”

  “For us both.”

  “Do you feel guilty?” She bit the inside of her cheek.

  He took her hand. “There’s something I haven’t told you. It’s very difficult to talk about, but it should explain why I’ve been so conflicted. I was driving when Penny died.”

  “Oh, Jon.”

  “I’ve always blamed myself. Another car was coming at us, and I had to swerve into a tree.”

  “It was an accident. It’s not your fault.”