The Invitation Read online

  Chapter Three

  Jackie tried to be sensible during the following days, but it wasn’t any use. She tried to talk to herself, telling herself that she was an adult woman, not a frivolous, starry-eyed girl, but she didn’t listen to her own advice. She cursed herself for having been born a woman. What in the world was wrong with women anyway? They met a man who was nice to them, and within minutes they began planning the wedding. She told herself that it had been an ordinary encounter, that what had made it seem extraordinary was that she had just been hit hard on the head. Otherwise she would have had her wits about her and she wouldn’t have given another thought to the incident.

  She made herself remember all the many men she’d met over the years. There was the time she’d been on a boat with Charley and a very nice man who…well, the truth was, he was more than nice. He was absolutely gorgeous, tall, with dark blond hair, crystal-clear blue eyes, and he had spent eighteen years or so in various universities studying a number of subjects, so he’d been fascinating to talk to. He was brilliant, educated, terribly handsome, everything a woman could want, but although they had spent the whole four days of the trip together while Charley was prostrate with seasickness, Jackie had not fallen in love with the man. Of course, she argued with herself, she had been married, and maybe that had something to do with it. Maybe William was the first interesting, handsome man she’d had any contact with since she’d become a single woman.

  She had to smile when she thought that. After Charley’s death she had been amazed at the number of men who came to “pay their respects.” At the time she had been grieving, wondering what she was going to do with herself without Charley to take care of, and suddenly there were many men offering her anything she wanted. It was flattering and annoying at the same time.

  She didn’t so much as go out with a man for six months after Charley died, but the combination of loneliness and the constant invitations she received broke her. After months, she began to go out to dinner and movies, to auto races, to picnics. You name it and she went to it. And at each one it was the same thing: “How many brothers and sisters do you have?” “Where did you grow up?” “Where did you go to school?” “How many races have you won?” “Who are the celebrities you’ve met?” “What was it like having dinner at the White House?”

  After six months of these dates, she began to consider having cards printed with vital information on them, so she could avoid having the same boring conversation over and over. Didn’t anyone ever have anything interesting to say? Like “What’s the biggest lie you ever told?” she couldn’t help thinking. That was what William had asked her. And he had made her a sandwich she liked, not a conventional sandwich of grilled cheese or beef with mustard, but a real sandwich.

  A year after Charley died she had moved to Chandler, for she was tired of the circuit, tired of people who had seen so much and done so much that they were dying of ennui by the time they were thirty. Jackie was afraid that if she stayed with them she would become one of them. She wanted to be with people who had wonder in their voices when they talked of airplanes. “I don’t know how those things stay up,” they’d say. Words that once bored her to tears, words that made her angry with their very stupidity, now pleased her with their simplicity. She liked Chandler, liked the people in it, people who had done little in their lives—little except keep the world going, that is.

  And now, here in this sleepy little town, she had met a man who had done what no other man since Charley had been able to do: he had interested her.

  On Thursday she cleaned house. On Friday she went shopping and spent twice her three-month clothing budget, and when she got home she decided she hated everything she’d bought. She went through all the clothes in her closet, pulling out things she’d kept for years. She couldn’t decide whether to try to look like a sweet-tempered housewife or a sexy woman of the world. Or maybe she should aim for the movie-star-at-home-look of tailored trousers and a silk shirt.

  By Saturday morning she was sure that her whole life depended on this afternoon, and she knew that whatever she chose would be wrong. When she awoke that morning she was angry, angry at herself for acting like a love-starved girl, for making something out of nothing. Maybe this man wouldn’t show up. Even if he did show up, it could be very embarrassing to be dolled up as though she were going to the school dance. What if he came wearing work clothes, ready to get started overhauling a plane engine or whatever he wanted to do? What if he didn’t show up at all?

  She went to the stable that had been converted into a hangar, climbed a ladder and began trying to take the ruined propeller off her wrecked plane. The first thing she did was drop the wrench, tear one fingernail half off, then cut the bright red polish off another nail. Holding her hands up to the light, she grimaced. So much for having beautiful hands, she thought, but then she shrugged. Maybe it was better that she didn’t try to impress him.

  Standing on a ladder, wearing greasy coveralls that once had been a rather pleasant gray but were now stained into a non-color, Jackie was pulling on the bent propeller with a wrench. Wiping her hair out of her eyes, she left a smear of grease on her cheek as she looked around the shaft and saw a pair of feet. Expensively shod feet. After wiping her face on the sleeve of her coveralls and smearing more grease on herself, she looked down to see a good-looking young man staring up at her. He was a tall man, with dark hair and eyes, and he was staring at her in a very serious way, as though he expected something from her.

  “You need some help?” she asked. Most people who came to Eternity, if they weren’t friends, were tourists wanting to see the ghost town, or they were lost.

  “Remember me?” he asked in a very nice voice.

  She stopped trying to loosen a nut and looked down at him. Now that he mentioned it, there was something familiar about him. But she couldn’t place him. No doubt he lived in Chandler and she had gone to school with him.

  “Sorry,” she said, “can’t seem to place you.”

  Without so much as a smile, he said, “Do you remember this?” Holding out his hand, he had something in his palm, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

  Curious, she climbed down the ladder to stand in front of him. She was considered a tall woman, but this man topped her by several inches, and now that she was closer to him, he seemed quite familiar. Taking the trinket from his hand, she saw that it was a school pin. CHS was embossed in gold on an enameled background of the school colors, blue and gold. At first the pin meant nothing to her, but then, looking into the tall man’s dark, serious eyes, she began to laugh. “You’re little Billy Montgomery, aren’t you? I wouldn’t have recognized you. You’ve grown up.” Stepping back, she looked at him. “Why, you’ve become quite handsome. Do you have hundreds of girlfriends? How are your parents? What are you doing now? Oh, I have a thousand questions to ask you. Why haven’t you come to see me before now?”

  There was only the smallest smile on his face that betrayed that he was pleased by her enthusiastic greeting. “I have no girlfriends. You were always the only girl I ever loved.”

  She laughed again. “You haven’t changed much. You’re still too serious, still an old man.” Easily she slipped her arm into his. “Why don’t you come in and have a cup of tea and tell me all about yourself? I remember how awful I used to be to you.” As they started walking, she looked up at him. “It’s hard to believe that I used to change your diapers.”

  Still smiling, arm in arm, they walked toward her house. Billy had never talked much when he was a child, and now his silence gave Jackie time to remember. He and his brothers and sisters were her first baby-sitting job. He had given her her first experience in child care and her first experience with dirty diapers. After that first day, she had gone home to tell her mother that she would never, never have any children, that children should be kept in a barn with lots of straw until they were housebroken.

  She’d always liked Billy. He was so quiet and always ready to listen or to do whatever Jackie