Part I: Heart's A Mess
"...Your heart's a mess
You won't admit to it
It makes no sense
But I'm desperate to connect
And you, you can't live like this..."
~ "Heart's A Mess" - Gotye
Two Years Later
June 17, 1922
The day was hot.
Nick Carraway sat on the large back porch of his small little cottage in West Egg and dabbed the sweat off his brow as he tried to push through another volume of the financial books he'd brought to study. Stocks were booming, buildings were getting bigger, parties were louder, liquor was cheaper and dresses were shorter than ever.
There was so much money to be made and he wanted in on it. The twenties were booming and he wanted to be a part of everything. A job opportunity had opened in the bonds business for him. Nick had come early to spend the summer on Long Island studying and preparing himself , but he hadn't gotten much done in the afternoons. The heat was stifling and a white parasol from next door always came out around two o'clock that proved to be distracting.
Whoever the woman was with the parasol, she was beautiful. Creamy white skin and pale, blonde hair made her look almost like a porcelain doll with ruby red lips and long lashes around crystal blue eyes. Checking his pocket watch, Nick saw that it was a quarter after two. Like clockwork, the woman with the parasol appeared as if out of thin air and walked down to the dock that was owned by the next door manor.
A man in a uniform stationed himself at the end of the dock on the path and stood silently with his hands behind his back. Every afternoon it seemed that the woman would stand there for a while just gazing at the water and it always made Nick curious. He wanted to know who she was and why she always stared down at the water. What was so entrancing about it that she'd spend nearly an hour looking at it?
He also couldn't understand why a beautiful woman like her always looked so sad too when she'd turn around and walk about up the path to the extensive gardens and the manor beyond. Despite the heat, she did show up wearing a knee length dress that looked light and soft. Three quarter length sleeves covered her most of the creamy white skin of her arms. Nick watched her with fascination for the next hour that she stood on the dock.
Ducks swam past her at one point and a maid came down from the house with bread crumbs. As a quarter after three neared, the man that had been standing at the end of the dock walked towards the woman where she stood at the railing. He said something to her and she nodded.
Nick watched as she turned back and began walking up towards the house. For brief moment, she looked towards his house like she always did and her eyes met his. Her lips upturned a little and Nick smiled back at her. As soon as her smile had appeared, it vanished and her face became a blank canvas, except her eyes. They were the only place that showed any emotions and Nick was sure he'd never seen sadder eyes than hers.
"Is that you, my darling?"
Nick smiled as he saw Daisy Buchanan lying on the couch. The moment she'd learned that he would be in New York she'd extended an invitation to have him over for dinner. Nick had accepted the invite and was looking forward to seeing both Daisy and Tom.
They were recently married and had a young daughter, Pammy, who Nick had never met.
"Simpson! Close the doors," Tom called as he entered the parlor. All the windows were open and the evening air blew all the light sheer window coverings around the room. Tom made a gesture at one of the servants and soon all the French doors were closed.
"Am I missed in Chicago?" she asked with a smile.
"At least a dozen people send their regards."
"How gorgeous."
"They're absolutely in mourning," Nick smiled as he continued. "They're all crying that they miss Daisy Buchanan."
She laughed and turned to the other woman lying on the couch next to her and shook.
"Jordan, wake up," she laughed. "Nick is here and you must meet him!"
The tall dark haired woman that Nick understood to be Jordan sat up and was instantly on her feet.
"I've been lying on that sofa for so long that I hardly remember when I laid down," Jordan said while gracefully stretching. "You live across the bay in West Egg?"
"I do," Nick nodded. "I'm renting out a house there."
"I know someone who lives over there."
"You do? I don't know a single person. Although, I do my see the woman who lives next door out in the afternoons often enough," he said with a soft smile.
"You must know Gatsby!" Jordan exclaimed. "Everyone knows Gatsby! For goodness sake, you must have seen his manor. All lit up like the city! It's a sight to see!"
"Gatsby? What Gatsby?" Daisy asked looking shocked. She quickly recovered and turned away from the group and walked over towards the footman at the door to have a quick word.
"He lives in the largest manor in all of West Egg. It has a dock and everything."
"Oh, he must be the neighbor," Nick exclaimed with realization. "There is a woman though that lives there, I believe."
"Gatsby's wife," Jordan supplied with a shrug.
"Let's have drinks before dinner!" Tom suggested with a smile as he returned from wherever he'd gone to. Gatsby was forgotten as they all moved to the dining room that had been laid out with enough food to serve a crowd of people instead of only the four of them that was present.
There was plenty of gossip as Jordan, Tom and Daisy told Nick all about New York. In turn, Nick shared his own news and gossip from Chicago. As each course passed the gossip became wilder and secrets began to pass from each person's lips as the wine flowed more and more. When Tom brought up a recent book he'd been reading about called The Rise of the Colored Empires by a man named Goddard, Daisy cut in with smile.
"Tell Nicky more about…Gatsby…Jordan," she insisted before the conversation could take any more of an ugly turn.
"Mr. Gatsby is always having parties," Jordan said with a smile. "His wife, Mrs. Gatsby, is a lovely woman to be sure. Beautiful, but very quiet and I think she doesn't really care much for her husband. They don't care much for each other."
"She married Gatsby to save the family name," Tom interrupted. "She's a member of the Harper family. Their estate Nick is down the lane from us a few miles. Very wealthy family with a pedigree to match, but the younger sister was wild and nearly ruined the family. Miss Harper marrying Gatsby saved them from social ruin. Now, everyone wants a piece of the Gatsby-Harper connection. I wouldn't though. All these new money types are just filthy."
"Have you met her, Nicky?" Daisy asked with a teasing smile. "This Mrs. Gatsby? I know Jordan has."
"Have you?" Nick asked looking at Jordan in surprise.
"We've had tea few times together. Her mother is a friend of my cousin and they have tea frequently. She never stays long and whenever I'm arriving it seems like she is almost ready to leave. She is quite dedicated to her charity work,I will say that. Save the orphans or something like that," Jordan said with a wave of her hand. "It's all very noble of her. Have you met her? She lives right next to you."
Nick shook his head, "No, but I think I saw her earlier in the garden walking now that you've described her."
The phone rang and everyone froze for a moment before Tom stood up and excused himself. Daisy went flying after him and a servant closed the double doors behind them both. A muffled argument was breaking out and Nick looked at the door curiously.
"You play golf?" he asked, trying to start up a conversation.
"Shush," Jordan snapped. "I wanna hear what happens. It's probably his mistress calling again. Daisy gets so upset about it. I feel horrible for her."
"Tom has a mistress?"
"Some woman in New York. I don't know her name. Not many people know about her. I don't think the Buchanan family can suffer another scandal about Tom's affairs. People will only turn a blind eye so many times. Daisy and Tom already had to leave Chicago. I don't know where else they'd go if they were shamed here. Atlanta, Baltimore…maybe Boston. Take your pick."
Before Nick could reply, Daisy and Tom walked back in. They both looked flustered. Nick quickly excused himself, feeling uncomfortable sitting at the table with the new knowledge he had about Tom and Daisy's marriage. Tom tried to convince him to stay a little longer but Nick refused.
It was Daisy in the end who walked him out and all the way home Nick could hear her voice in his head repeating over and over that she wished Pammy was a beautiful fool.
The closer Nick came to his little cottage, the more he could see that the house next door was lit up. The large manor was stunning in its opulence and it reminded Nick of a French chateau or something out of the many pictures he'd seen of European castles. The extensive gardens were lit up as well and he could see a man walking quickly towards the dock. The woman he recognized from earlier was following at a quick pace not too far behind the man. Nick realized for the first time exactly who they were without a doubt in his mind.
Mr. and Mrs. Gatsby…
Watching them reach the quickly dock, Nick turned away feeling uncomfortable watching them together for some strange reason. He barely knew them and it seemed wrong to intrude on such a personal moment between the two of them.
Going inside and sitting down at the small desk that was in his formal living room, Nick opened the volume of finance that he'd been reading earlier in the day and told himself he'd read a little more before going off to bed.
It was only ten minutes later when he looked up at the clock again. Another marital argument was breaking out somewhere and he strongly suspected it was the Gatsby's down on the dock. It caused Nick Carraway get up and slowly he walked to his back porch listen. He couldn't hear much, but a woman's voice drifted through the evening air to the little cottage.
He looked down at the dock to see the beautiful woman from earlier standing in a gold and silver sequence dress. It was sleeveless and had a deep 'v' down her back. She gripped the railing next to the man dressed in a handsome black suit. Nick knew the man to be Mr. Gatsby, but he couldn't see Gatsby's face. The woman's face however was illuminated by the light from the dock reflecting on the water. Her dress and the diamonds she wore on her neck and ear lobes glittered.
The couple looked like they were in a heated argument, but it couldn't be denied that standing next to each other they were a handsome looking couple even without being able to see Mr. Gatsby's face. Mrs. Gatsby said something to her husband and the man turned to her quickly. He waved an angry finger in her face and whatever he said to Mrs. Gatsby quickly made her leave.
Nick wasn't sure if he'd seen tears coming from Mrs. Gatsby's face or if the reflection from her dress and diamonds were giving an illusion. It didn't matter because she quickly walked up the pathway to the gardens. She was met by a maid that she quickly passed. The girl took off after Mrs. Gatsby and Nick wondered what they had fought about.
Turning back to watch Gatsby, Nick watched him reach out towards the shining green light in the distance. A man that Nick recognized from earlier in the day as having been with Mrs. Gatsby came down the dock and whispered something in Gatsby's ear. Gatsby nodded and left with the man walking up the same path that his wife had taken minutes ago. He'd never been able to fully see Gatsby face and Nick wondered exactly who the man was.
A silence fell over the world and Nick stood wondering what he'd just witnessed.
Rebecca slammed the door shut behind her as she entered her private rooms. Gatsby never followed her into the rooms. He didn't care what happened behind the doors of her rooms and he certainly didn't care for her tears and begging. Just one Saturday where there wasn't a party was all she wanted. Just one weekend of peace in her own home and he'd flatly told her if she so desired peace than he'd be more than happy to have her leave his house and go somewhere else. He told her he'd even pack her bags for her. Tilly appeared in her rooms quickly and looked nervous.
"What?" Rebecca snapped not caring that she was being mean to the maid.
"Mr. Gatsby says he still expects you to finish dinner with him," Tilly squeaked as Rebecca quickly began yanking off her jewelry.
"Tell him that he can go and hang himself for all I care! I just won't eat tonight. Go away!"
The maid scurried away and Rebecca collapsed down on the small chair in front of her vanity. Marriage was never meant to be easy and marriage to Jay Gatsby wasn't easy or simple. Gatsby wore so many different masks in front of her that it was rare that she ever felt like she was talking to the real Gatsby.
There was the ruthless businessman Gatsby, the charming dinner host Gatsby, the silent and brooding Gatsby that ignored her. There was an angry Gatsby that appeared on few occasions, but tonight it had been a mixture of all.
Dinner had been full of one sided conversation. Her speaking and trying to start some form of communication. She'd been trying to convince her husband to not have a party on the upcoming weekend. It all had been going well until Gatsby had received a call from Philadelphia and he'd left her alone. Being left alone by Gatsby was nothing new to Rebecca. He was always leaving her alone and ignoring her.
Tonight, however, had been different. She'd gone after him demanding that he at least hear what she'd had to say before abandoning her again for the night. Gatsby had surprised her by hanging up the phone and listening to her.
She'd begged him to cancel the party that was being planned for the week, but Gatsby had refused and a fight between them had broken out. She'd followed him down to the dock, but a few words from him about what she could do if she was so unhappy had silenced her. It was the first time Gatsby had ever threatened to throw her out and a part of her was frightened by that threat. Gatsby didn't break promises and she'd learned a long time ago that he carried through on his threats.
Having lived in the manor long enough, Rebecca knew that some things Gatsby did weren't exactly legal and somehow she found everything so funny. Ironic, in the end really.
People everywhere believed Gatsby to be a gentlemen of great wealth, but they didn't realize that everything was sham to get them to let him in the door. Even she was tool he'd utilized on multiple occasions. She didn't know much about what happened with his business. Truthfully, she didn't know what he did that was illegal. She was much happier to claim ignorance about everything.
Standing up and walking to the large windows, Rebecca looked out at the bay and stared at the flashing green light. The same green light that Gatsby had stared at earlier as she'd argued about why the party should be cancelled. It was the same green light that he was always staring at and it made her wonder what was so special about the light.
Why was he always watching for it and reaching for it in the dead of night when everyone should be asleep?
Resting her head against the cool glass, Rebecca wondered briefly for a moment about Mary. The brief thought of Mary led her down a deeper, darker road. The constant thoughts of 'what-if' assaulted her mind as she wondered what life would be like if Mary hadn't fallen pregnant with an engaged man's child.
What would her life be like?
Monday
June 23, 1922
It was nearly a week later that Rebecca found herself walking to the house next door. The man who lived there always seemed to stare at her and it made her curious to know who he was. Walking down the path way that joined the two properties, Rebecca stopped in her tracks.
The young man was passed out on the bench on his front porch in nothing but his under garments. Pressing her red lips together, she tried to stop herself from laughing. The man truly was a sight and walking closer to the front porch of the cottage, Rebecca walked up the three stairs and sat down in the chair next to the man.
"Mr. Carraway!" she called loudly and the man sat up looking startled as he looked around frantically trying to figure out who had called his name. His eyes landed on her and they went wide in shock.
"Why don't you go inside and get dressed," Rebecca suggested training her eyes to only look at his face. "I'll have tea made."
It was a little while later that Nick returned down stairs. Rebecca was still seated outside on the front porch looking at one of the many volumes of financial encyclopedias that he'd had left lying around the house. Tea was laid out and a maid in a black and white uniform stood in the on the porch silently.
"Anna was wonderful and made tea," Rebecca announced as she reached for the silver tea pot. "How do you prefer it? One or two lumps of sugar, Mr. Carraway?"
Nick quickly sat down and picked up the pot of tea before Rebecca could. He might have been caught with his pants down by her, but he wasn't going to let a lady like Mrs. Gatsby serve herself when she was a guest in his home.
"Let me," he told her. "How much sugar?"
"One lump," she told him as she folded her hands in her lap and waited. Nick made her tea and watched as she slipped off her gloves. A large ruby engagement ring was on her ring finger as well as a silver band.
"Beautiful ring," Nick commented as he handed her the tea cup and saucer.
"My engagement ring," Rebecca smiled at him. "Mr. Gatsby knew I liked rubies and I picked the ring not even realizing it. He took me to jewelry store saying he needed help finding a watch. My youngest sister, Elizabeth, came with us and together we picked it out. I'm rather fond of it."
"It's beautiful," Nick smiled back. "It reminds me of Daisy's ring."
"Daisy?" Rebecca asked hoping that they weren't thinking of the same Daisy that lived across the bay.
"Daisy Buchanan," he explained.
"Buchanan?" she asked feeling her heart pound in her chest at the mention of Tom Buchanan's name, "Really? How do you the Buchanan family?"
"Tom's wife is my second cousin once removed. Her name is Daisy," Nick told her calmly. "Her family name is Fay."
Rebecca put her tea cup down on the glass table in front of her before her shaky hands made the cup rattle on the saucer.
"I have heard of the Fay family," she replied with a forced smile. "They're not as well-known as other families, but I do know of them just as know that the Buchanan's have lived in almost every fashionable city in the States. Do you know why they move so much?"
Nick looked down in discomfort at his tea cup for a moment before he looked back up at her, "My cousin is a free spirit. She can never be in one place for too long."
"I have sister just the same," Rebecca smiled at him sweetly soothing any ruffled feathers. "Two sisters, actually."
Nick smiled back at her, "Have you and Mr. Gatsby been married long?"
"Two years. How long will you be in West Egg?" she asked changing the subject.
"I'm not sure," Nick admitted honestly. "I've got a job in New York in the bond business. I hope I'll be a success."
Rebecca smiled at him warmly, "Mr. Carraway, the biggest broker in New York. It certainly has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Nick blushed a little at her teasing and Rebecca stood up.
"I've taken up too much of your time today already Mr. Carraway," she continued with reserve. "I do hope that everything goes well for you. I wish you all the luck in the world. My father always said playing the stock market is like gambling. I know you'll do well. Hopefully, we'll see each other soon."
Nick stood up and followed her down the three steps of his porch.
"Have a good day, Mrs. Gatsby," he told her but she stopped and turned back to look at him with an amused expression.
"Mrs. Gatsby is my mother-in-law, please call me Rebecca."
"Only if you call me Nick!"
"Have a wonderful day, Nick," Rebecca told him and she quickly turned away and walked back towards Gatsby manor with the maid, Anna, nearly jogging to keep up with her.
"You as well Rebecca," Nick whispered.
"Have you met our next door neighbor?" Gatsby asked as he leaned back in his chair watching Rebecca as she picked at her lunch.
It was rare that they ever ate any meal together besides dinner. Breakfast was always separate with Rebecca taking it in bed and Gatsby enjoying breakfast on the back porch overlooking the bay in the summertime. Lunch was almost always separate as well, but dinner was the only meal they ever ate together and more often than not, they were entertaining someone who was relevant to business.
"Which neighbor, Mr. Gatsby?" Rebecca replied as she placed her fork and knife down. "Mr. Kent? Lovely old gentleman and his daughter is quite lovely, if you wanted to know."
"The other one who is renting the cottage next door," Gatsby said sounding not at all amused as he lifted up his tea cup filled with coffee. "The one you visited this morning. That's who I want to know about."
"You had me followed? Of course, you did. Why do I even bother pretending to be shocked anymore," she said knowing full well that Gatsby tracked her comings and goings. It had long since been a source of an argument between them and recently, Rebecca had decided to give up on fighting Gatsby about it.
Nothing she did or said would stop him from doing exactly as he pleased. Gatsby had always done exactly as he pleased and rarely did he ever consult her on his plans. He wouldn't be starting any time soon and she was done arguing with him. The only reason she picked fights with him was because it was the only time actually gave her his undivided attention. It was sick, but it was to get Gatsby to notice her.
"What did you find out about him?" he asked before taking another sip of his coffee.
"Nothing worth knowing about," Rebecca told him not wanting to talk about Tom Buchanan. The snake had done enough damage and she didn't want to see him ever again. She wasn't sure she could stop herself from throwing something at him or inflicting bodily harm on the man for his behavior and cruel abuse of women.
"What did you really find out about him?" Gatsby asked again. "You're lying about knowing nothing. You never were a good liar about certain things."
"Why are you so curious to know what I know?" Rebecca asked baiting him.
If there was one thing she'd learned from Gatsby it was how to play the situation. He was always playing situations and using anything he could to his advantage. She'd seen him do it enough times and she knew that rarely did anyone ask for any favors that weren't met without something in return. If her husband wanted the information about Nick Carraway, it would cost him.
"I just am," Gatsby replied keeping his tone light and even. "What do you know?"
"I know that I will tell you what you want to know if you give me something in return," Rebecca said as she leaned forward and propped her elbow up on the table. "Is that a fair deal?"
"What do you want?" Gatsby asked as all appearance of calm left him and an annoyed expression crossed his face.
"I haven't decided, but I want at this moment is a written note from you saying I can have whatever I want, when I want it."
Jay stared at her and a smile crept up to his lips, "Crawley, old sport, go get a piece of paper and a fountain pen with fresh ink."
Within five minute, Rebecca was staring at the piece of paper in her hand and reading Jay's scrawling writing.
23, June 1922
I, Jay Gatsby, will grant Rebecca Gatsby whatever she shall desire (within reason) in exchange for information on one next door neighbor, Mr. N. Carraway.
- J. G.
It was dated and signed just as she'd asked and after staring at it for a moment, Rebecca set it down on the table. Picking up her tea cup, she stared at him hard as she raised the cup to her lips.
"What would you like to know about Mr. Carraway?" she asked after swallowing and putting the tea cup back down.
"Everything you know," Jay told her looking mildly annoyed. "Don't leave any details out."
Rebecca stared at him for a moment trying to figure out why Jay was so interested in Nick. Nothing came to mind and it made Rebecca even more curious. Rarely was Jay interested in something that didn't have a purpose. So, what was Mr. Carraway's purpose?
"He's here to join the bond business and he isn't sure how long he's staying in West Egg," she finally said after a few seconds. "He had a very wild night last night. I found him in his undergarments passed out on his porch. He claims my engagement ring reminds him of Daisy Buchanan's and-"
"Daisy Buchanan?" Gatsby said as he sat up in his chair, "How does Mr. Carraway know Mrs. Buchanan?"
"They're second cousins or something like that," Rebecca said feeling confused as she waved her hand. "What's so special about Daisy Buchanan, anyway? In fact, what's so special about any Buchanan?"
Jay didn't say anything, but stood up and tossed his linen napkin down on the table.
"Gatsby?" she called as she watched feeling extremely confused as Jay walked away from her. She knew the look on his face. He was planning something, but she didn't know what he was planning and why. Sighing, Rebecca picked up her knife and fork and continued eating lunch wondering if the rare event of Gatsby joining her for lunch would ever happen again.
She didn't bother trying to bargain with anyone about getting Gatsby to sit through an entire meal. The phone was always ringing and never had she seen Gatsby turn down a business call.
The day he did, Rebecca was sure the sky would be falling.
Thursday
June 26, 1922
Gatsby didn't bring up Nick again until a few days later. It was after dinner on Thursday evening when he did find her in the music room alone. It wasn't unusual for them to have a silent dinner than separate.
Gatsby always went to the library or his study while she often retreated to the music room or retired to bed early. The day had been like any other day for Rebecca.
She'd woken up and had gone about her morning routine. At eleven, she'd gone to New York City to meet several women from society for a luncheon and had spent the afternoon in various engagements. She'd returned back to Gatsby Manor around four o'clock and had gone for her daily walk in the gardens and down to the dock.
At five o'clock, Crawley had informed her that Tilly was waiting for her to dress her for dinner and Rebecca had gone to change wondering why she even bothered. Gatsby never gave her a compliment about how she looked or her clothing. In the beginning of their marriage, she had always tried to look her best for Gatsby. She had taken great pains to try and impress him, but now she didn't care if she impressed him or if he thought she looked pretty.
It didn't matter anymore.
Rebecca was sitting at the piano playing when he came in. His presence had startled her so much that she fudged a note and a horribly off tune sound came from the piano. Her fingers stilled on the keys and she looked at him with a weary expression on her face. She sat trying to figure out why Gatsby was there in the room with her.
"Don't stop on my account," he said as he sat down in one of the many comfortable chairs. "Continue."
Rebecca's fingers were frozen over the keys as Gatsby sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. She was desperately trying to figure out why he was even in the same room as her. He'd made it so clear to her at the beginning of their marriage that he wanted nothing to do with her. The only time he spent with her was minimal and it was only when others were present.
To see him sitting now in the music room staring at her was unnerving and she wasn't quite sure if she should continue playing or demand to know why he was there. Before she could say anything, Gatsby spoke up again.
"Tomorrow, you're going to invite Mr. Carraway to a party," he said as Rebecca removed her gloved fingers from the ivory keys of the piano and arched an eyebrow at him. She almost felt offended that he was only interested in talking about Mr. Carraway.
"Why are you so interested in Mr. Carraway?" she demanded. "What about him fascinates you? He's a nice man to be sure, but beyond that there's nothing that would interest you."
"There are plenty of people that don't interest me," he told her and Rebecca tried not to flinch at his words. "There are plenty of people who do interest me. Mr. Carraway interests me. That's why I want you to invite him."
Gatsby stood up and walked to her. He pulled a sealed envelope out of his breast pocket and set it down on top of the polished piano.
"Invite Mr. Carraway," he said softly. "That's all I want. Have one of the servants do it if you find it challenging, but invite him."
Rebecca looked at the envelope and picked it up. She knew that it was an invitation, but it felt so heavy between her fingers. She looked up to tell Gatsby that she didn't want him getting Mr. Carraway into any kind of trouble, but the room was empty and she was alone again. Even after two years, disappointment flooded her chest and she pushed it down quickly reminding herself that Gatsby leaving her without a goodbye or anything was normal. He didn't care and neither should she.
Letting her heart get involved would only led to pain and an end like Mary's. She refused to live her life pinning for a man like her younger sister had. Gatsby wasn't worth the pain. Standing up, Rebecca closed the piano and left the room to retire early.
She had many engagements the next day and Nick would have to be the first person she visited with the invitation.
Friday
June 27, 1922
Rebecca was surprised to see Nick sitting outside his cottage as the Rolls-Royce pulled up to park in front. Brighton raced around the car and opened the door as Rebecca took a breath in and poised herself to be as charming and happy as she could be. Nick truly was nice man and she didn't want her already rough day to ruin his. She hoped that he could be a friend and she didn't want to ruin any chances of that friendship.
"Rebecca," Nick called joyfully seeing her. "I didn't know you were stopping by so soon again. We only saw each other a few days ago."
"Nor did I," she smiled as Brighton helped her out of the car and down onto the stone path. "I apologize for coming so early though."
"Nonsense don't be sorry!" he smiled back. "Would you like a cup of tea? Please, sit down and join me."
"I'm afraid I can't stay long," Rebecca said as she walked up the path to his covered porch where he was sitting with breakfast and tea. "I have tea with my own mother and sister soon in East Egg this morning."
"And this afternoon?" Nick asked hopefully as Rebecca sat down on the white wicker chair that was the twin of his own. A glass table was between them and had a silver tray set out with tea and toast.
"I'm attending a fundraising event over for several charities I support," she told him sadly. "Truthfully, an afternoon with you and a tea pot sounds far better. Life, however, is full of things we don't want to do, is it not?"
Nick smiled understandingly, "I feel the same way. Mr. Gatsby is well, I presume?"
The smile stayed on her face despite the feelings that washed over her. Rebecca hadn't even thought about Jay until Nick had brought the man up and what was left of her good mood felt like it was crashing quickly. She hadn't spoken to him since last night. Even on the walking out of the house this morning when she'd passed him on the way to their respective cars he's ignored her. Gatsby had quickly gotten in his yellow custom car and had driven off as she'd been handed into her car by Brighton.
Gatsby's car had disappeared around the bend of the drive before Brighton even had that car running. Rebecca had tried to squash her unhappiness at Gatsby's silence, but the silence between them was like a canyon and she didn't even know how to describe how it made her feel.
She was desperate for some kind of affection and attention. Rebecca mused to herself that maybe that's why she wanted Mr. Carraway to stay away and yet stay close by. She was conflicted over a man like him because Nick was a handsome, unattached young man. She'd only met him once before, but she liked him. He made her feel alive inside and he brought a smile to her face that was genuine.
Neither thing she felt when around Gatsby.
When she was around Gatsby it was like she was empty inside and suffocating on the silence between them. She wanted Gatsby to smile at her and tell she was beautiful like she'd other husbands do to their wives. She couldn't remember a time when Gatsby had ever told her she looked beautiful. He'd told her that she was pretty when they'd been engaged but that had simply been because he was trying to marry her. Nick voice brought her out of her thoughts and she looked at him confused.
"I'm so sorry!" she said quietly. "Repeat that again. I wasn't attending you."
Nick smiled, "A lot on your mind?"
"Nothing of great importance but yes, I do have quite a bit on my mind," Rebecca smiled back."Now, tell me again what you said and I promise to listen."
"I asked you why you're here so early."
Her smile nearly fell again but Rebecca refused to let it, "An invitation."
Opening up her small clutch, Rebecca took out the envelope that Jay had given her the night before and extended her gloved hand to Nick with it.
"Mr. Gatsby and I would be honor if you would join us for a party this weekend," she said with the smile never leaving her face.
"Thank you," Nick replied. "I'd love to!"
"Good," Rebecca told him as she stood up quickly. "I'm afraid I have to go, Mr. Carraway. I have quite a bit to do today but I hope you have a wonderful day."
Brighton opened the door to the car again and Rebecca quickly descended the steps from Nick's cottage to the stone path that went to his drive.
"You promised to call me Nick!" he reminded her.
Turning back to look over her shoulder at him, Rebecca smiled.
"Have a wonderful day, Nick."
"You too, Rebecca," he grinned back.
Brighton coughed discretely and Rebecca glared at him as he helped her into the car. She didn't care what her driver thought. He wasn't paid to think. He was paid to take her where she needed to go and any other miscellaneous tasks he was appointed to by the housekeeper.
"To Harper House in East Egg," she told him coldly. "Drive."
The car moved and Rebecca looked out the window watching Nick's little cottage disappeared into the tress. Nick returned back to his breakfast and Rebecca found herself wanting to desperately join him. It didn't matter that they had parties every weekend.
She didn't care for the people who attended and she didn't befriend them. They were only there because of superficial reasons not to mention the free food and booze. Nick, however, seemed so sincere and she wanted to spend more time with him.
He offered up a cure for her loneliness.
