Paper Castles (12 page)

They’re talking about Price. And me. What do people know? What don’t I know?

“You look fabulous.” Sarah’s demeanor slid from guilty to patronizing. She turned to the red-faced woman beside her. “Delores, this is Savannah
Palmerton
.”

Even in the dim lights Savannah could see Delores blushing. “Nice to meet you,” she stammered.

“Likewise,” Savannah said, the lie sitting like an olive pit on her tongue. She looked for a place to spit it out.

Small talk engulfed her. She did her best to smile and respond when necessary as the line to the buffet inched along like a funeral procession.

Swallowing her anxiety, the olive pit moved to her stomach.

Who the hell is this woman? How could she possibly know anything about me?

She probably doesn’t. Just calm down.

But I heard her say Price.

Maybe I imagined it.

Her gut knew better.

She returned to her seat but her appetite was gone. She took two bites before sliding her plate across the starched tablecloth. Catching the waiter’s eye, she lifted her glass. He brought another vodka tonic just as Price dropped into the chair next to her.

“Sorry, I got waylaid. I didn’t mean to leave you unattended.” His hand rested on top of hers. “You all right?”

“Fine.”

He looked at her for a moment, then decided to accept her short answer.

Millie and her husband Griff joined them, along with a third couple. Savannah pulled her plate back to her and pushed her food around it, uninterested in dinner or silly conversation. Her thoughts were swirling.

That’s not what I heard
.

The words became part of the decorations, bouncing off the pink and red hearts hanging from streamers on the ceiling.

What
had
Delores heard?

Savannah kept stealing glances at Price as if she might find a clue, but the face he turned to her offered her nothing new.

That’s not what I heard.

She tried to push it aside, but it kept landing right back in her lap. Her throat tightening, she looked over at Millie.
Do you know? Did you hear?
But Millie had her back to Savannah and didn’t see the trembling lip.

Price excused himself from the table. In his wake, Savannah fanned herself with the program card, as she signaled the waiter for another drink.

Calm down.

It’s gossip, nothing more.

She’d lived through gossip before. Tonight was supposed to be a fresh start, she reminded herself. The last thing she needed was to think that people were standing around talking about her marriage.

Savannah looked around the room, her eyes scanning the guests, imagining their gazes flicking away guiltily. Then her attention was drawn to the terrace doors. It was dark, but she knew Price’s silhouette in an instant. He was talking to a woman. A woman’s hand reached through the air and touched his arm. A proprietary touch. A soft gesture that was like a slap in Savannah’s face.

He was shaking his head now, looking uncomfortable. The woman’s hand was on his tie. Stroking it. Price’s look went from uncomfortable to willing. With a smile he took the hand in his and walked away, the woman trailing behind.

The thin thread holding Savannah’s heart in place broke. Her resolve drained away as if she’d sprung a leak.

Fate was a cruel partner. Floating by with a balloon of hope, watching as Savannah reached on tiptoes, reaching for the string, daring to take it. As soon as her fingers went to close, the balloon was yanked away.

That’s not what I heard.

The affair wasn’t over. Not only was it not over, but it was
here
. In Savannah’s face. On her turf.

How dare he?

She was stunned by Price’s level of cruelty and furious at her own level of gullibility.

She gulped her cocktail like it was a shot of whiskey, then asked for another.

“Boy, you are thirsty,” Millie said, laughing. “Slow down.”

Why didn’t she get up and follow Price? Half of her wanted to stand on the table and point everyone’s attention to her husband slinking out the door with another woman. The other half wanted to crawl underneath it. She was a mass of contradictions in a cocktail dress. She tried to move her feet but they refused to listen. Perhaps they knew better. Her feet would keep her from making a spectacle of herself. Another piece of gossip to discuss around the buffet line.

“
Did you hear the one about Savannah Palmerton losing it at the Valentine’s Day dance?”

That’s not what I heard.

She looked over to see Price walk back in, rubbing
her
off of his lips and smoothing his hair. His gestures reminded Savannah of a B-list actor playing the part of the philandering husband.

He swooped down and kissed her on the cheek, an unmistakable floral scent mingling with his cologne. “There’s my beautiful bride,” he said, holding out his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

She lifted her eyes to his, not saying a word as she placed her fingers in his grasp. She got up, unsteady on her feet, and leaned on Price’s arm as they made their way to the dance floor.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked.

“When?” He pulled her into a slow dance.

“Just now.”

“No one. What are you talking about?”

“I saw you, Price. With a woman. You walked outside with her, holding hands.”

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’m not doing this tonight.”

Savannah almost choked on the gall this man possessed. Kissing her with a tongue that begged her to trust him one minute then sneaking outside for an illicit rendezvous the next.

The entire club was full of eyes. Couples swirling, dresses twirling, all laughing as they sped by. Laughing at her. Pointing fingers as the merry-go-round spun out of control.

That’s not what I heard
.

“Where is she?” Savannah said. “I want to tell her she can have you.”

“Calm down, Savannah,” Price said through clenched teeth, his lips curled in a smile. “I think you’ve had enough to drink. We wouldn’t want your dirty little secret to get out now would we?”

She looked up into his eyes and spoke through her teeth as well. “My dirty little secret is already out. Everyone knows I’m married to a man who can’t keep his zipper up.”

“Touché, darling.”

His condescending tone was the trigger. Her arm reared back and Price caught her by the wrist before she could make contact, fingers digging into her soft flesh. She didn’t know if she was more surprised at herself or the message Price’s grip was sending her.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said.

“I’m doing more than thinking about it. Let go of me or I’ll scream this place down.”

She didn’t flinch during his quick assessment of her intentions. Cold eyes swept over her face. He lowered her arm to her side, still holding her wrist in check. His eyes darted around the room searching for witnesses.

“Listen to me,” he said, his mouth at her ear. “We’re going to walk over to the table. Get our things, say good-bye and leave before you make a fool out of yourself. And me. In front of everyone I do business with.”

He was as cold as she was hot. He ushered her from the dance floor, his grip relaxing only when they reached the table.

“We’re heading out,” he said. “Savannah’s not feeling well.

She fumbled with her coat and purse. Millie looked over at her with a big question mark on her face, her head cocked to one side. Savannah leaned down and kissed Millie on the cheek, whispering, “I’ll call you later.”

Price was so sure she would play her part accordingly. She did, but not for his sake.

“Y
ou’re a bastard, Price.”

“And you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk enough.”

The fight spilled from the car and oozed through the front door like an oil slick. Savannah was on fire, anger raging through her veins, consuming everything in its path.

Throwing her purse on the hall table, she stormed into the living room tearing at the buttons on her coat. It went flying toward the sofa, missed, and landed in a defeated heap on the floor. Crystal decanters rattled as she poured amnesia over ice.

“That’s just what you need, another goddamn drink,” Price said.

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. We’re having so much fun.” Price collapsed in his chair.

“Who is she, Price?” Savannah turned on him. “Since everyone else knows about her, why shouldn’t I?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Who is she?”

“How the hell should I know? You’re the one making up this story. You fill in the blanks.”

“Why add more lying to your list of crimes?”

“I’m not lying.”

“You lie so well, you believe yourself.” Savannah drained her glass and moved to the bar cart for a refill.

“You’ve used that line before.”

“Because it’s true.”

“I’m not going to be held responsible for some silliness you overheard from a woman you’ve never met. You’ve spun this entire scenario out of thin air. Like you always do.”

“I saw what I saw. I’m not crazy, Price.”

“The jury’s still out on that.”

She whirled around. “How dare you.”

“I’m not going to fight with you anymore tonight,” Price rose from his chair. “You’re drunk. Go to bed, Savannah. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I have some business to attend to. Some people in this family have to work.”

“Out?” She screamed the word. “At this hour? You’re getting sloppy, Price. You’re not even trying to cover your tracks.”

Price looked coolly at her, “I have nothing to cover.”

“What makes you think I’ll be here when you get back?”

“Feel free to leave anytime you like.” Price was utterly composed in the face of her torment.

“I’ve had enough, Price. I want a divorce.” Words that had been hanging like a pendulum swung free. Slicing through seventeen years with one clean cut. She might have been knocked to her knees earlier in the evening, but she was on up on her hind legs now. And she was fierce. A force to be reckoned with. A volcano in a high heels.

She was shaking, but through the anger her thoughts crystallized. Her marriage played out before her eyes. Every word that had been said leading up to this defining moment. Every look. Every whisper. Every lie, an omen. Perfectly exposed. Illuminated. She walked around each incident, seeing it from every angle.

Never had her thoughts been so clear. She was at once out of control, and in complete command. She was both in the moment and standing outside herself

“You want a divorce? You got it.” Price walked up to her, ice in his eyes. “Be careful what you wish for. Don’t think for a minute you’re taking my children with you. I’ve kept my part of the bargain.”

“Bargain?” Savannah was incredulous.

“Yes.” Price said. “I’ve provided you with a beautiful home and the country club life. You’re the toast of Savannah society.”

“More like the talk of Savannah society. Good God, Price, listen to yourself. This is a marriage. Not a contract for you to manipulate and score points against your opponent in rounds of negotiations. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Save it for your attorney. And he better be a good one. You’re unfit to be a mother. Count on this—you’ll never have those kids.”

He walked towards the front door as if he were merely leaving to get the Sunday paper, while behind him Savannah screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Get the hell out of my life. I hate you!” She hurled her glass at his departing back, but it hit the wall instead, shattering into a thousand pieces.

“Daddy,” Angela called after the slamming door.

Savannah turned to see her children and Neenie at the top of the stairs. The screaming had obviously drawn everyone from their beds. Collateral damage gathered around the bomb site in their pajamas.

Angela was sobbing, PJ had his arm around her shoulders.

“Go back to bed,” Savannah ordered, unable to deal with anything else. She grabbed her coat, purse and a bottle of vodka. She picked her way through the broken glass and slammed the door behind her so hard it rattled in its frame. She’d already woken her family. She wasn’t concerned if she woke up the entire neighborhood with the squealing of tires as she peeled out of the driveway.