Little-bitty CoaG reference in this chap:) It wouldn't be a Buffelyn story without that ring...:):):)

14. Just a Tiny Corner of her World Seemed to Melt

well you may not see me when you come by i could be sharing someone else's pillow and my love for you is better than diamonds to you everything i bestow and tomorrow i'll be dancing on my own and i'll need a kiss for my head that's aching and i'll be a hungry dog without a bone hoping my place with you's not taken kiss me and tell me it's not broken kiss me and kiss me'til i'm dead

--"everything i bestow" mundy

I decide to make myself useful in Rick's absence and tidy up. I guess he had no idea how long he'd be gone, but from the looks of the place he left in a hurry. The plants are dying, the newspaper on the counter dates to nearly a month ago, and there are unwashed dishes in the sink. Apparently he doesn't have a housekeeper, despite the size and affluence of the space. I take a self-guided tour of the house, noting various things as I go. Pictures on the walls, mostly of people I've never seen, except for Robbie. Tastes in furniture, decor, though I'm willing to bet a lot of it came with the house.

I peek into what I presume to be his study, a room that usually seems too private to enter, but on the desk... Is that my name on a piece of paper? I step into the room, notions of privacy gone. "Evy" is written down on a little square sheet of blue paper, scrawled across the top in heavy pencil lead. Below it, my London address, phone number, and the information for the Museum and Jonathan's place as well. Rick did his homework, apparently.

The clothes I purchased in Cairo before we left town were inadequate to say the least, and I'm dying to get out of these travel clothes. I select a pair of big comfy pajamas from Rick's drawers. He won't mind. The moment I can I'll have to go shopping.

A beautiful view greets me out the bedroom window when I pull open the curtains. It's like a courtyard in the back, sort of a communal yard that all the buildings on this block share, apparently. It is deserted save a woman sauntering along the sidewalk. She is blond, her hair cut in one of those annoying little bobs that would make me look like a boy, but just make her look gorgeous. Her clothes, too, are entirely too fancy to be wearing on a daily basis--and who wears that much jewelry? The woman looks like a walking nightmare.

And...and she's headed straight for the house.

What is she doing? She's got a key in her hand... What the...God! She's in the house. The strange blond woman has entered the back door. If she wasn't so flimsy-looking I'd be scared, but as it is I'm just angry. Furious, in fact. How many women have keys to Rick's home? My home, technically! I will go confront The Blond Bitch and tell her to get the Hell out of my house!

I take the stairs two at a time and bound through the kitchen doorway. She doesn't notice me; she's leaning against the counter, checking her teeth in a little pocket mirror. I pull out the sharpest tone I can manage. "Who are you?"

The Blond Bitch spins around, her heavily-lined eyes wide. She considers my question for a moment, clears her throat, and draws herself up to her full high-heeled height. "Tess MacIntire. Who the Hell are you?"

I decide to ignore her question. "How did you get in?"

"I have a key." She waits, seeing how I'll react. I struggle to keep my face straight, seething with loathing for The Blond Bitch. I hide it well, and my patience is rewarded. "Calm down," she says finally, seeing that she won't get a rise out of me that easily. "I've been watering the plants while Rick was away. You startled me, I didn't realize he was..." Her eyes flicker up and down, judging my presence as trivial with a mere glance. "...Seeing someone."

My state of undress suddenly hits me as I realize I never quite got around to the pajama pants. I pretend nothing is wrong. "Hmm. Funny that he didn't mention it."

"I heard he had some news." Tess laughs, a sparkling, tinkly sound that would be charming if it weren't so obviously fake. "Am I to assume you are it?"

"Hard to say. I suppose it's not every day one gets married."

Her face falls visibly and she flutters her eyelids a few times, apparently trying to comprehend my words. "What?"

"I guess it was rather sudden, we've only just begun to announce it. I can't blame you for being taken aback. Are you two close?"

It takes her a moment to form words. Take that, Blond Bitch! "Um...yes. Closer than close. I can't believe he didn't tell me he was getting married."

Oh, so that's how she wants to play it, huh? "Yes, I'm sure he'll miss you terribly."

"Miss me?" Her eyes do that fluttery thing again. "I hope you won't object to your husband and I being friends."

"No, no, it's just that we'll be living in London, and you know how it is--"

"London? That's...where you're from."

"Yes." I can feel the hatred seeping out of my eyes, and she takes a step back. "And Cairo. Where Rick and I met."

"I thought his business trip was to London."

"No, I mean originally. Years ago." I'm banking on the fact that Rick was, indeed, telling me most of the truth when he said he hadn't seen anyone very seriously, for if Tess is telling the truth she'd probably know. Anyway, I hope that the women my husband dated in the last nine years were of higher caliber than this hussy. "We're on our honeymoon, actually, and it's back to London in three days."

"Where is Rick?" Tess asks. "I thought he was home."

"No, he went to work for a while. I'll certainly tell him you stopped by, though." Yeah I will, but with slightly less polite phrasing. "Oh, and I'll just take the spare key. Since we're selling the house and all..."

The Blond Bitch hesitates, then pastes that saccharine smile on her lips and drops the key into my outstretched hand. "Of course. Tell Rick I said...hello." She turns and sashays out the back door, tossing a homicidal glance over her shoulder as she goes. The girl has no subtlety, honestly.

Nearly four hours later I let myself quietly into the house, still wracking my brain for some sort of excuse. An hour, tops. Yeah, right, Rick. Either Evelyn is going to be pissed, or she'll be incredibly understanding, which will just make me feel worse. Luckily for me I find her asleep on the couch, wearing my pajamas, blanket wrapped around her, book open. I carefully pry the book away and ease myself onto the couch.

Her eyes open gradually, frame by frame, as if in slow motion. "Allo," she says, stretching her arms out over her head. "How was work?"

"Mile a minute excitement."

Her arms fall leisurely around my shoulders. It amazes me how easily she seems to use me as a human pillow. "I met one of your friends."

"Did you?" I search for a name, but can come up with none who she could possibly have met in the last four hours. "Who?"

"Tess. You two close?"

"She's my neighbor. That's sweet of you, though."

"I was not jealous." Evy looks intently at the empty space beyond my head, a sure sign that she's lying.

"Didn't say you were."

"She's a complete and utter bitch."

"My, my, you kiss me with that mouth?"

"I've never heard any protest. Besides, it's just your influence rubbing off on me." Her eyes are by now fully focused back on me, and they look a little irked. "What took you so long?"

"I'm so sorry, honey. A lot of sh...stuff went on while I was away. Got most of it cleared out, but I might have to go in for a couple more hours sometime in the next few days. Sherrie'll pack up my stuff, though. She's bringing Addison back tomorrow morning. And we hired movers."

"Are you...okay, still? With moving, and all?"

"No question. It was time for a change of scenery, anyway."

"You're not quite so charming as you think you are, you know."

I stand quickly, taking her with me. "Come on. I got you a present."

She looks wary, but follows me out of the living room and up the stairs. "What is it?" she asks slyly, fingers tickling up and down my arm as we climb.

"Something I never quite got around to giving you nine years ago."

This piques her interest, but she doesn't say anything more, just looks slightly worried. We reach the third floor landing and the bedroom. I instruct her to sit. "Just let me find it," I say, rummaging through my sock drawer. Why is it we always keep precious things in sock drawers? Occasionally I would run across the little box while searching for various things. Each time I found it again, I'd think of all the possibilities. I could throw it away. Sell it. Donate it. Look up Evelyn's address and get rid of it, finally. She'd recognize its origin, know it was me who'd sent it. I'd always toss the box back in the drawer, vowing to forget for good this time, forget everything. In all those lonely years, I never realized how much I wanted to remember.

My hand closes around the little box. I've found it again. This is the first time I've ever gone looking for it. It's an old-fashioned little gilded box, with a snap that reveals a halved top. Evy's brow knits up when she sees it. She's quite unsettled now. "What's in there?" she asks, and I unsnap the top of the little box and kneel in front of her.

"Recognize this?" I say, and the ring inside the box glints in the light. Sparking clear in the center, flanked by little blue dots of gemstone. Just the same as it's looked for thousands of years.

"That looks like..." I can see the gears of the scholar's mind turning, dating the jewelry. "That's from Hamunaptra. My God, have you kept it all this time?"

"It was always meant to be given away. Never got the chance to, but I could never bring myself to get rid of it. I'd forgotten about it, actually, until I was telling Sherrie the story of my awful proposal--"

"Beautiful," she interrupts. "It was beautiful."

"Still, I wish I'd had this with me." I slide the ring on her finger. It looks just like I thought it would, though there's no room for it on the originally intended finger. It looks like it fits where it is, with Evelyn--like it belongs with her. "I really am sorry about the plane. Inexcusable."

"No, no, no. Perfect." Evy settles into my arms, and I flash back to a desert night, as my mind often does when I hold her so close. The split-second thought that she was dead had ripped through me like a speeding train had torn straight through my heart. She was fine, breathing, alive, but somehow the realization of that moment made my own life swerve irreversibly off-track. Her eyes had seen straight through me like they always did, but just a tiny corner of her world seemed to melt in that moment. The walls she so carefully guarded crumbled, and in her eyes were shades of something entirely new, vulnerable and strong and terrified all at the same time. And suddenly, in that single moment, I wanted to be the person, that one person, who she'd tear down those walls for. With my arms around her, I became that person, the only person in the world who got to see that look in her eyes.

~*~*~*~

Only one more lovey-dovey honeymoon Boston chapter, I promise. Then it's back to London and much angst...maybe. Ideas floating around my head... Bwahahahhahahahahahhahaha........