Once Upon a Prince

THREE



By Saturday afternoon when Susanna had driven to the garage to get a new tire, half the island had heard about Adam finding “the right ring but not the right girl.” By Monday morning, the whole island had heard. So it seemed.

Susanna half expected to see it on the front page of the paper. It would make the Glynn Academy alumni news for sure.

Adam and Susanna, the couple most likely to be, aren’t.

Driving to Gage Stone Associates, Susanna wished she’d said nothing more to her parents than “we broke up.”

But Mama … oh, Mama. She had her ways.

“What’s wrong? Mercy, Susanna. You look like who-shot-Liz.”

“Thank you, Mama. That’s what I was going for.”

Susanna had broken down this morning over a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, sitting in the Rib Shack’s kitchen. She’d cried and confessed every word, every wounding, piercing word in her conversation with Adam. She felt raw and real, holding nothing about their exchange as sacred.

But then she met Nate. That news she kept to herself. He’d been the silver lining on her dark Friday afternoon. Perhaps a little tap on her shoulder from God.

Don’t despair.

She’d skipped church Sunday. Adam’s parents attended services at Christ Church, and Susanna couldn’t bear the thought of running into them. Not this soon.

Sunday evening, the family dinner at the Rib Shack had taken place as usual, the restaurant brimming with laughter and music, with family, with warmth.

Susanna intended to hole up from that event too until baby sister Avery insisted she go. At seventeen, Avery was wise, young, and exuberant. And on occasion, a great persuader.

Grandparents, aunts and uncles, and all the cousins straight down the line to third cousin-once-removed showed up at the Shack the first Sunday of each month. Daddy closed down the restaurant for the family gathering. Wasn’t hardly a soul who missed the ritual. Not even the Camdens, who might not actually be blood relatives of the Truitt-Franklin-Vogt clans. But they’d been around so long no one could remember.

Susanna had tucked her emotions behind her heart and hid in the shadows of the Shack’s deck, letting the family flow of conversation, laughter, and music drown out her reality for a few barbecue sweetened hours.

Then Monday morning arrived with Susanna’s alarm jolting her out of the best fifteen minutes’ sleep she’d had all weekend. She’d stared at the clock’s red numbers, working up an excuse to call in sick and stay in bed another day.

But she was out of Häagen-Dazs. And she was hungry for Mama’s eggs and biscuits. So she let her heart wake up and face the day.

In the parking lot behind the Gage Stone offices, Susanna dropped her forehead to the steering wheel. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the tenor of Adam’s confession—“found the right ring but not the right girl”—out of her head.

Yes, she’d dialed him a dozen times, but she’d hung up before the call connected. What would she have said to him? “Take me back … Please change your mind, Adam.” Or better, “Wait, I want to break up with you first. Ask me to marry you, go ahead. I’ll say no.”

Neither would make her feel better. Then Sunday at midnight, she went on a binge and purged everything from Adam on her phone, computer, and that crazy digital picture frame he gave her for Christmas two years ago.

Now that made her feel better. Much better. And she could finally sleep.

But the whole ordeal had caused a disturbance deep in her soul. Not about Adam, but about herself. How could she have been so blind? So foolish? Clinging to a man she didn’t really love.

A soft rap against her car window caused her to look up. Aurora. “Suzy-Q, you all right?”

Susanna fumbled for the window’s power button. “Aurora … hey.”

“You good, girl?” The woman rested against the car door.

“Yeah, sure, I’m good.”

“I heard.” Deep creases marked the contours of her weathered but wise face. Her gray eyes, steady and clear, watched Susanna.

“Hasn’t the whole island?” Susanna grabbed her satchel, popped open her door, and started for the office.

“Word gets ‘round.” Aurora fell in step with Susanna, her bare feet curling against the sharp gravel-and-sand parking lot.

“Aurora, where are your shoes?” Susanna pointed at the old woman’s bright red toes.

“Gave them away.” She hopped to the grass with an exhale. “My feet just aren’t toughened up. I got soft wearing shoes. But I’ll get them in shape.” The homeless woman spoke with the cultured voice of one who had once lobbied Washington, DC, politicians. With great success. Brisk and to the point. “A gal came through the camp. She wasn’t right.” Aurora tapped her temple. “Didn’t have any wherewithal.”

Susanna paused on the sidewalk by Aurora. “So you gave her your shoes.”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t give her a pound of wherewithal.” The woman chuckled. “Though don’t think I didn’t try.”

“I have no doubt.” Of all the women on St. Simons Island, Susanna felt sure Aurora possessed more wherewithal than all of them combined. “You need money for more shoes?”

“Nope. Got all the money I need.”

The question was rhetorical. Susanna knew the woman had money. She just wanted her to spend a little to save her feet.

Aurora lived simply but wisely. Word was she’d amassed a small fortune before leaving DC to pitch a tent in the island woods.

“Woke up one day with the Lord tapping on my shoulder. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘This is what you want? To live with your boyfriend, drinking and drugging and lying?’ Girl, back then I could spin a lie to perm your hair. The trappings I thought I possessed actually possessed me. So I cracked … but in all the right places.”

“Get a new pair of shoes, Aurora.” Susanna smiled, swinging her black leather satchel at her feet. “You’re going to ruin your pedicure.”

“Don’t despise me my pedicure, Suzy-Q. You can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl. It’s my one splurge. I don’t think the Lord minds.”

“I don’t think he minds at all. Hey, get two pairs of shoes this time. One to wear, one to give away.”

“Maybe.” Aurora wore her gray hair in a ponytail. Loose ringlets adorned her neck and forehead. Ten years of living in the woods could not mask her classic, refined beauty. “He didn’t break your heart, did he? That boy … I can see it in your eyes.”

A brisk chill skirted along Susanna’s scalp and down her back. “What are you doing nosing around in people’s eyes?” Though she long suspected Aurora spent long days in her tent on her knees, hearing from God in ways others only dreamed of.

“Not nosing. But definitely seeing.” She pointed from her eyes to Susanna’s. “Got the gift, you know. It’s why I had to leave Washington. God opened my eyes and I could see the lies, see the darkness. Not feel … but see. Couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You never saw the good?”

Aurora smiled. Her teeth were white and even, another remnant of her days in DC. “I’m looking at the good right now.”

“I mean in Washington.”

“I’m not in Washington. I’m in St. Simons looking at you.”

More chills. Yet the fire of Aurora’s intense gaze made Susanna’s soul burn. “Is there something you have to say? Say it.”

“Okay. Thank the Lord for this deal with Adam. Finally, you can get going on your way and stop fooling around, waiting on him.” Aurora smacked her palms together, punctuating her declaration with such force Susanna jerked backward, squinting. “Know what your problem is, girl?”

“I only have one?”

Aurora’s big laugh held no restraint. “Touché.” She gripped Susanna’s arms. “You just wouldn’t break … wouldn’t let go. You clung so tightly. I see a bit of myself in you, darling. I was bound so tight God couldn’t even whisper my name lest I shatter. I had to let go. I had to crack.” She wagged her finger under Susanna’s nose. “That’s what you need.”

“I’m not sure I know how to crack. At least not in all the right places, Aurora.”

“He does.” She pointed toward the heavens. “And from what I can see, the first crack hit just right. Wasn’t too painful, was it?”

“You’re telling me God sent Adam to break up with me?”

“If he’d asked, would you have said yes?”

“No.”

“See … you knew all along, girl. Just like I did. Back in the day, drugging and sleeping around, I thought I was all liberated and free, but I was nothing but bound.” She gripped the air in front of her face. “But I held on. To my reputation, my career, my fancy home, my clothes and jewels, my expensive car.”

“Your pedicures?” Aurora’s intensity challenged Susanna’s comfort and notion of God’s role in her life. “How do I hang on to my goals and plans without being so …”

“Uptight? You let him figure the outcome. We make our plans, but God directs our steps.”

“I have no plans, Aurora.” Susanna glanced up at her second-story office window. “Zip, zero, nada. They vanished with Adam.”

“Fantastic.” Aurora danced a jig along the sidewalk. “Now he can come.”

“Now who can come?”

“The one …” She covered her mouth with her long, slender hands and in an instant, the attitude and decorum of a DC lobbyist faded, and the innocent sweetness of a cracked woman emerged. “You only believe in ‘the one,’ don’t you, Susanna?”

A divine disturbance rumbled through Susanna. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She’d never told anyone her belief in “the one true one.” Well, until she blabbered it to Nate on Friday night.

“Aurora, what are you talking about?” Please don’t start talking nonsense. Susanna ached to hear something good, profound. But Aurora straddled worlds, the natural, the supernatural, and the slightly nutty. At any given moment she slipped out of one into the other.

“One. Only one.” Aurora flung wide her arms. “You’re free, Suzy-Q. And now get ready.” She tipped her face toward the heavens. “Believe. He’s coming …” She sucked in a quick breath of surprise. “He’s here, oh joy, he’s already here.” Aurora patted her hands together and danced a jig.

“All righty then.” What had started out as an encouraging, sane conversation had gone cattywompus in the span of a sentence. “I’ll see you, Aurora. Don’t forget to buy shoes.”

“I’ll see you first, Suz. And get that Adam-boy the rest of the way out of your heart. Let go. Let goooo.” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers at Susanna. “God will fill your heart with wonders you never dared dreeeaaam.”

“O–okay?” Dreams? Susanna couldn’t conjure up one. Did she even have any? No, she had plans. Dreams were for fairy tales and romantics. She was practical, patient and … dreamless.

From her bag, her phone pinged. It was Gage’s text tone.

Staff meeting in 5 minutes. You’re late.

“Listen, Aurora, I need to run.” She flashed the screen for her to see. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m right as rain.” Aurora smiled, all perfect and sane, then hopped across the parking lot toward the woods, disappearing between the trees and brush.

“Aurora?” Susanna dashed after her, suddenly missing her divine confidence. “Get a pair of shoes, will you? Aurora?”

But she was gone.

“Aurora?”

How did she do that? Disappear in the mist.

Susanna’s phone pinged again.

3 mins til meeting.

Gage. Like his staff meeting of five had to start at nine o’clock sharp. When Susanna made it to the second-floor landing, he was waiting for her.

“Well?” He folded his arms and searched her face.

“Well what?” She pushed past her boss—and friend—lowering her satchel to her desk.

“How’d it go?” Gage fell against the ornately carved doorframe, motioning toward her left hand. “How come I’m not blinded by bling?”

“I thought we had a meeting.” Susanna reached for her University of Georgia mug sitting on the credenza. Time and use had faded the logo and the UGA looked more like IGI. And the bulldog mascot no longer had a nose.

“Yeah, we have a meeting but I wanted to see the bling. Adam came home, right? You left early Friday to meet him.”

“I need coffee.” Susanna slipped past Gage and down the stairs. She’d held herself together while talking to Aurora, but Gage’s inquiry encroached on her emotional fortress. He’d been her friend, and Adam’s, since the romance began and had been on the sidelines, watching, occasionally coaching, for twelve years.

“Suz, what happened?” Gage’s steps thundered down the stairs after her.

“Nothing happened.” Susanna ran into Myrna, the office manager, when she reached the bottom.

“Gage, leave the girl alone.” Myrna smacked her gum and glanced at her clipboard schedule. “Susanna, your ten o’clock appointment cancelled.”

“Glenn Cowger? No.” Was it too late to join Aurora in the woods? “Did he say why?”

“Not a peep, darling. And I tried to get something out of him.” She peered at Susanna. “You don’t look half bad for a woman who got dumped.”

Susanna made a face. “Yay me. So, did you ask Cowger to reschedule?”

“Shug, look who you’re talking to. Me. Myrna.” The woman with the henna-rinsed hair and the countenance of a marine on duty curled her lip. “Of course I asked him. Gave him ten ways to Sunday to reschedule, but he’d have none of it. Said he’d think on it, would call you later.”

“Great.” Susanna glanced at her boss. “Scratch Cowger Homes off our morning meeting.”

“Let’s not give up so easily,” Gage said. “Get a plan together, Suz. Myrna, pull files on the other architects in the region. Let’s see if we can figure out who else Cowger is considering. Also, pull the city building permits. Wonder if he’s run into a snag. Tell Clark and Alexis we’re postponing the meeting for ten minutes.”

Myrna went into action. “On it, boss. And, Suz, don’t worry about Adam, he’ll come around.”

“Ugh, I’m so glad my personal life is out there for all to comment on.” Susanna started for the kitchen. She really needed coffee. Gage trailed after her.

“Do you have any idea who Cowger—”

“Come on, Gage, he’s clearly made another choice.”

“We don’t know what he’s doing. There’s a good chance he didn’t get his building permit. So let’s keep after him. Win him over.” Gage cornered her in the kitchen. “I need your A game, Suz.”

“How about my D-minus game?”

“No, I want the hotshot Atlanta landscape architect who won major jobs for Remington & Co.”

“I had the Remington & Co. reputation behind me when I won those jobs.” She let her expression and tone seal her implication. Gage Stone Associates was still building their company and reputation.

“Okay, fine. We’ve got a ways to go, but you had Cowger.”

“And now I don’t. Want my opinion? Your rates are too high, Gage.” Susanna yanked the coffee carafe from the machine. Bone dry. She leaned toward the doorway and hollered into the hall. “All right, y’all. Who drank all the coffee and didn’t make any more, huh? It’s only nine o’clock.”

“What do you mean my rates are too high?” he asked.

“It’s not rocket science, Gage. You charge too much.” Susanna opened the cabinet for the coffee. She popped the lid of the canister. Empty. She snorted, low, sardonic. “It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.” She tipped the empty canister at her boss. “I’m going to Starbucks.”

“I need you at staff, Suz.”

“I’ll be back. But here’s my big input for today. You want Cowger back? Lower your bids.”

“My bids are competitive.”

“Sure, if you’re Remington & Co. You’re building your rep, Gage. It’s will-work-for-nothing time.” Susanna pressed the plastic lid back on the canister. “I need coffee.”

As she passed Gage, he snatched up her left hand. “So, Adam didn’t propose?”

“No, and you must be the only person on the island who hasn’t heard.”

A crimson wash spread on his cheeks. “I did, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

“So I could relive it all over again?” Nice.

“Did he really say he found the right ring but not the right girl?”

“Yep. Said we loved the plan more than each other.”

“He’s crazy. If any two people—”

“Needed a wake-up call, it was Adam and me. He’s right, Gage. I just never wanted to see it.” She headed for the stairs to get her purse. “I’ll be back in time for the meeting.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am.” She gazed down at him from the bottom step, a wash of tears blurring her vision. “Sad but okay.”

“You sure?”

“It’s just going to take time to get used to the idea of Susanna with no Adam.”

“He’s crazy, you know, to let you go. Probably spent too much time in the desert.”

“He seemed sane to me. Besides, he met someone else.” The words sounded strange and formed an odd twist in her chest.

“Do you want to take the day off?” Gage said, soft and with sympathy.

“No. Work grounds me. Reminds me that life goes on. Reminds me this is the life I’ve always lived when he’s been gone.”

“Okay, but remember I need you tonight. If you need some time, take it during the day.” Gage leaned against the banister, looking up at her, his gelled black hair catching the light falling from the second-floor windows. “The Butler benefit … for the hospital wing. Our chance to get the landscaping. Mrs. Butler is big on doing business with people she knows, and having you there will win points with the selection committee.”

“That’s tonight?” It would be black tie. She’d have to get dressed up, do something with her hair.

“Yes, tonight. We need this job, Suz. Word is the hospital committee will go with the architect Mrs. Butler recommends. And that’s going to be us. A job like this will boost our resume.”

Susanna stared down him. He was right. All hands on deck. And it wasn’t Gage’s fault she’d wasted twelve years with the wrong man.

“Of course I’ll go.” She forced a smile and punched the air. “Take one for the team.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll drive myself.” Susanna dashed into her office and grabbed her bag, slinging the strap over her head.

“I’m picking you up. I want to make sure you get there.”

Susanna headed back down the stairs. “Fine.” Maybe a fancy benefit would be a good distraction, just like meeting Nate the other day. At the bottom of the steps she poked Gage in the chest. “You were the last one at the coffee pot, weren’t you?”

“I’ll send Myrna out for more coffee.”

Susanna jangled her keys. “Be back in five.”

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “Adam’s a fool.”

“Is he?” She paused in the doorway. “No, Gage, Adam’s no fool. But me? I’m not so sure.”