Chapter 4
Summer Sings No More
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
Oh, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rose bud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
~ John Boyle O'Reilly
Lavinia Peach strolled into the kitchen at Donovan Manor looking for her boss. It was a pretty day among the rolling hills of the English countryside. Birds chirped in the distance and on the drive in, Peachy noticed the sheep grazing in the fields that lined the road. The day was bright, airy and void of the oppressive humidity they experienced earlier in the week. A hint of the autumn air loomed amongst them despite the early August date. It hid amongst the blue sky, a subtle change that shifted the color a shade darker, punctuated only by the lingering cloud that passed by. Peachy believed autumn snuck up on the estate earlier each year, but this year it seemed more pronounced. She heaved a heavy sigh knowing why. Letting herself in through the side door of the breezeway that connected the garage to the kitchen, Peach found Simmons seated at the far end of the granite-covered island with an ornate cedar chest opened displaying the Donovan fine silver. Equipped with a soft white linen cloth, he busied himself polishing the silverware as she approached him to her left, patting his shoulder with British bravado.
"Afternoon ole' boy!" She greeted him breezily tossing her purse on the table to her right. She peered over Simmons' right shoulder casually observing his work. Simmons gazed up at her, smiled and nodded towards the pot of tea set in the middle of the island.
"I just made a spot. Have yourself a cup." He offered formally with a shine in his eye that revealed the comfortable admiration the two shared for one another.
"Don't mind if I do." Peachy replied, sauntering around the long dark kitchen island, passed the massive gas stove and convectional ovens, towards the far end corner cabinet to her right. The light pouring into the back window that lined the back wall of the kitchen caught her eye showcasing the tranquil and jovial scene Simmons had been privy to before her entrance. Through the glass, out on the back lawn were the four of them, engrossed in a playful game of Cricket. By the looks of things, the match clearly had devolved into a game of chase. Shane held Jeannie up over his left shoulder, the little girl's arms flaying wildly around as she laughed and screamed with joy as he chased down Andrew with the other. Peach paused before the sink cradling the saucer in her hand, soaking in the scene with her analytical eyes.
"This house hasn't seen so much love and laughter in quite a long time." Simmons noted fondly but Peachy detected shrewdness in his eyes without even facing him. His eyes surveyed the family playing outdoors then back to his friend standing at the sink trying to gauge her expression. He never stopped polishing the forks in the process, methodically placing the clean ones back into the box.
"Yes." Peach replied slowly. She remained transfixed on the scene, neglecting her tea. Looking for the missing party, Peach discovered her in the far left of her sight of vision, snapping pictures. Dressed casually, Kim's hair was pulled back loosely into a ponytail and she was enjoying the moment. Shane stumbled upon Andrew lifting him up onto his other shoulder, not as easily as he had his daughter, but still managed to stagger a few steps before dropping to his knees to toss them to the ground tickling them senseless.
"Shane!" Kim scolded. "Be careful!" But it was clear the children relished every minute of it and were in no danger of injury.
Back in the kitchen, Simmons continued his chore attempting to confer with Peachy concerning the situation. Peachy withdrew from the window for a moment, whirling around to pour some tea. Simmons moved on to the knives but the way his head lifted up told Peachy, he was more in tuned to what was going on outside than the silver in front of him. Peachy narrowed her eyes.
"Nice cover, isn't it?"
"Yes, so it is." He replied cryptically. "One tends to see things unscripted that way." Smiles flashed across his face as he shot her a guilty look, and then quickly back towards the box. "He's got that look in his eye again." Simmons added placing the next utensil back in the case with a clink.
"Ah, I noticed." Peachy replied sipping her tea. "It's a look that gets him into trouble." There was an authoritative tone in her voice that Simmons often heard only when she and Shane believed themselves alone and were discussing business. Simmons respected the way Peachy handled a man, especially a man like Shane. She knew how to reprimand him in private without emasculating him in the process. Peachy tossed a glance over her shoulder and paused. The corner of her mouth turned up slightly at the sight. Outside, Shane rested on his heels; his hands on his knees sweat pouring down his brow. He still breathed heavily, exhausted from the rough play.
"And I'm not too sure he's ready for her yet." Peachy observed regretfully. Simmons straightened up for the first time in their conversation, wiping his hands with the white linen. Resolute, Peachy whirled around giving Simmons an impish glance as she cleaned up her mess.
"The laddie needs to be pruned just a bit more." She pronounced firmly. With a swift move, Peach cleared the island off, wiped her hands on the hand towel hanging from the stove exiting briskly from the kitchen. Calling over her shoulder, the lilt in her voice echoed from down the hall.
"Tell the master I'll be in the study if he ever decides to earn a living again!"
Simmons simply shook his head in amusement.
Meanwhile, the children scrambled to their feet, begging their father to come after mummy. Kimberly was still laughing but protesting the suggestion.
"Shane!" She warned. "I have the camera."
"Then, I suggest you put it down, because here they come!" He announced boisterously after finishing their plotting.
The children sprinted towards their mother who set the camera down on the cement bench, before running in the opposite direction. Shane followed behind but rushed over to Kim's camera to steal a shot or two of her with their children. Looking through the lens, his mind replayed still shots of her in his memory. Like a bolt of lightening, the wound to his soul was swift and fierce! Lowering the camera and gazing at the three of them sprawled all over the grass chattering away the afternoon, a cruel and somber realization hit him: in less than twenty-four hours this would be over.
The day of their departure:
The early morning sunrise was eclipsed by the incoming gales coming in from the southwest creating a rush to drive Kimberly and the children to the airspace before the incoming front blocked their departure for another day. It was only a matter of time before the squall from the approaching storm blocked out the light of the sun. The urge for Shane to drag his feet in the process was negated by Peachy's sudden arrival to wish them a safe journey before she ventured to Edinburgh for the day.
"Not necessary ole' chap! I won't be long." She explained when Simmons offered to take her coat.
"Peachy!" Shane exclaimed when he rounded the corner and spotted her standing in the foyer. The color in his face drained a little. "You needn't come today. I know you have a stressful day ahead." He offered magnanimously. Peachy eyed him cunningly, before pushing past him.
"Yes, I'm sure you care, but I am here to make sure the lassie makes her flight."
Peachy waltzed down the hall towards the kitchen instructing the children from their chairs to hurry up the stairs. "Up, up, up! We have a plane to catch!" She chimed in a singsong voice. Within twenty minutes, Peachy assembled the Donovan clan together; bags packed in the car and helped Kimberly buckle the children into their seats.
"Peachy!" Kimberly gushed. "You are a life savor! I was worried we would miss our flight because of this weather." She said scanning the view. The breeze picked up against the tree-lined driveway. Shane stood stoically behind Kim ready to escort her into the black Bentley Turbo after she said her goodbyes.
"Well, dear, I know you must be ready to be with your fiancé." She acknowledged slyly.
A flash of confusion passed over Kim's face, before composing herself as she looked into Peachy's moistening eyes.
"Uh, yes, that's it. Phillip." Kimberly agreed. "I really need to get home to Phillip." She repeated mechanically. Peachy smiled sweetly, noting that Kim needed convincing on the matter.
"Oh, my love! I'm sure going to miss you!" Peachy's calm demeanor collapsed and she embraced Kim as her own daughter. Both women sniffling back the tears, Kimberly asked hopefully,
"Oh but you are coming next month?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Peachy purred, turning to leave. Shane smiled half-heartedly as his partner drove away, turning to Kim who was trying to wipe her eyes. The breeze blew her blond tresses away from her face, exposing her peaches and cream complexion. Kim pursed her lips together in an attempt to compose herself, but her eyes brimming with tears betrayed her disguise. "Why was good-bye such a hard word to say to him?" The past month had been the happiest in a long time despite the demons that plagued her. Kim looked over his shoulder, scanning the landscape. Shane looked up at the grandiose manor behind her. Finally, their eyes had nowhere to go, but to each other.
"Let's leave the good-byes for the airplane." Shane suggested after a few awkward minutes passed.
Shane looked longingly at her, wiping a tear from her cheek. The move startled Kim who reached for his hand clumsily, then looked down into her purse for a tissue, a mirror, anything. Andrew and Jeannie began to move restlessly in the car, their murmurings growing louder suggesting that time was up to exchange pleasantries. Shane cleared his throat and motioned his hand forward to escort Kimberly to the passenger's side of the car. As she leaned in to calm the brewing argument in the backseat, Shane interjected briskly,
"Just one minute, Kim!"
He sprinted across the front of the estate and disappeared around the far right corner. He returned ten minutes later with something in his hand. Approaching the car from behind, Kimberly got out of the vehicle, a puzzled look on her face.
"Remember?" Shane asked warmly, his voice hoarse from running away and then, back to her. Kim looked to see an exquisite cream-colored hybrid tea rose, which Shane offered her, in his right hand. He extended it to her, looking deep into her blue eyes for any signs of life of a love that once burned between them. Kimberly smiled kindly at the gift. Looking at it closely, she noted the petals redden at the tips. The specimen was absolutely flawless with no sign of overexposure to the sun, the leaves a luscious green to accent the delicacy of the flower while highlighting the passionate contrast of the flush-tipped petals. Kimberly's mouth dropped opened to speak, but no words appeared. Her awestruck expression conveyed it. She did remember…that first day she arrived, and all the moments since. Kimberly smelled the light fragrance that exuded from the rose. Lifting her eyes back to his, she managed to say,
"Truly, I'm touched." Her voice was soft and heartfelt. Relief showered over him; Shane smiled in return. It was all he could hope for at the moment. Saving face,
"Well, Ms. Brady, we must get you to the plane on time."
He offered chivalrously, graciously taking her hand and guiding her into the car. The car trip to the plane was pleasant, and much too short, despite Andrew's penchant for asking a series of questions, one right after the other. Shane answered them all patiently, while stealing a glance over to his left at Kim. She sat quietly looking out the window, the rose resting in both hands. Finally, the moment arrived to give his children one last hug and kisses before they left. After having them daily for the better part of the year, the event left Shane aching and empty all at the same time. As they boarded the private jet, the children ran ahead to explore their surroundings, excited at the prospect of riding back home in style. Kimberly turned around to see him standing at the base of the stairs, smiling stoically as they departed.
She paused.
Hesitating and then, without another thought, Kim rushed down the stairs, still clutching the rose in her hand. Hugging him tightly, Kim kept her face turned away from him.
"Thank you, Shane."
Shane stole a whiff of her hair in that brief instant he had his arms around her before she, like an enchanting spirit, flew away again. He stood waving at the two charismatic faces pressed against the window of the plane waving back, the ominous clouds rolling in to block the view of the sun.
Later that evening:
The ride back to Donovan Manor was a long, agonizing trip. The gales rushed forward by lunchtime, the rain beginning to bear down on the isle. Walking into the kitchen through the breezeway, the light over the stove did little to warm the desolate atmosphere of the kitchen. Shane spent the next hour pacing the halls of Donovan Manor in a desperate attempt to latch onto something that would entertain his mind. It was going to be a long and stormy day raging into the night, complimenting the oppressive melancholy Shane wore around his heart like an albatross. Meandering upstairs, he returned to his study spending the afternoon working on cases that were frozen in his mind while she visited. The workload was a tonic to waste away the afternoon alone, until hearing word of their arrival to L.A. After heating up leftovers, Shane attempted to relax in the family room, fixing a fire to warm the chill that enveloped the house due to the unseasonable storm. Mercilessly, his memory taunted Shane while staring into the erupting flames.
"My beautiful Kimberly." He said, full of rapture.
"Do you know how glad I am that you came to England?"
He implored as he stroked her hair and gazed into her expectant eyes.
She let his fingers fall onto her lips, tracing them.
As she traced his fingers with her tongue,
Wrapping her lips around them intermittently.
"I think you just told me." She replied breathlessly.
The glow of the fire served to highlight the euphoric state she was in.
"Well, I'm going to tell you again…" He let his lips graze her cheek.
"And again…" sliding down her neck,
"And again…" ~05/01/ 1985
Shane blinked hard, staggering backwards away from the heat of the fire that drew him into the alluring memory. Visibly affected, Shane abandoned the warmth of the fire stumbling towards his right and into the cold reality of his study. But she followed him there. Though completely sober, he slowly walked towards his curio cabinet and fixed a drink. "If I'm going to feel drunk, I'll bloody well be drunk." He chuckled bitterly as he grabbed a gold-labeled bottle and poured a stiff one. Turning around to face the opposite side of the room, Shane had no intention of being productive. His eyes rested on the door that was ajar, to the right of the study's fireplace that connected it to the illustrious library of Donovan Manor. Making a decision, Shane slowly walked towards the library.
Thirty minutes later, he managed to ignite a second roaring fire and was thumbing threw various books while nursing on his alcoholic beverage. Try as he might his eyes repeatedly wandered over one particular book of poetry that he always opened on dark and stormy nights when the wind cursed him. He let his eyes trace the words as he paced the room with the book in one hand and the drink in the other. When his heart couldn't bare the emotional masochism any longer, Shane discarded the item and sought refuge in the old leather chair positioned in the corner of the room between the fireplace and the window. Not letting the fire lasso him in again, he adjusted the chair to face the dismal view from outside.
Meanwhile, Peachy returned from her day trip to Edinburgh exhausted both emotionally and physically. The vicious weather extended the trip by two hours yet, like a mother, she knew to stop by Donovan Manor to check on Shane. Peachy had known him long enough to guess how he spent the day. "Brooding no doubt." She entered through the breezeway as she normally did, soaked to the bone just from running from the car to the house. Slipping off her parka and placing it on the hook next to the entryway into the mud- room on her left, Peachy listened for signs of the living. Surveying the place as she maneuvered through the hall towards the front entrance, Peachy flipped on the light switch to allow Edison's invention to guide the way. "Heavens, he's shrouded this place like a catacomb!"
Rounding the main staircase on her left, Peachy saw the dying embers of the fire from the family room begging to be ignited once more.
Peachy stopped.
"Shane?" She called.
No answer.
Stepping into the room, at the corner of her right eye, the flicker of another fire loomed just behind the door leading to the study.
Peachy grimaced.
Stepping just inside the doorway, it was immediately clear where her protégé resided: on the other side of the wall to her right. Making a quick detour to her left, Peachy fixed a drink, a scotch, and doubled back towards the door that stood ajar into library. Holding the glass in her left hand she strolled in. Looking the room over, from right to left towards the window that was riddled with rain pellets, Peachy always marveled over the predecessor's penchant for literature. Finally, her eyes rested on the object of her mission. He sat motionless facing the window, slouched in such a way to virtually conceal him from view. His arm hung carelessly from the arm of the chair, occasionally lifting it to bring his drink to his lonely lips. Before Peachy could approach him, a book lying on the floor in front of the fire, caught her eye. Bending over, she picked it up. The book opened:
Pity Me Not
Pity me not because the light of day
At close of day no longer walks the sky;
Pity me not for beauties passed away
From field and thicket as the year goes by.
Pity me not the waning of the moon,
Or that the ebbing tide goes out to sea,
Or that a man's desire is hushed so soon,
And you no longer look with love on me.
This have I always known: Love is no more
Than the wide blossom which the wind assails,
Than the great tide that treads the shifting shore,
Strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales.
Pity me that the heart is slow to learn
What the swift mind beholds at every turn.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay
Peachy took a healthy sip of her scotch. Sighing heavily, she placed the book forcibly down on the table. She knew he heard her entry. Walking over to the old leather chair Shane sunk into; his old friend swats him on the head.
"Ou!!!!" Shane winced in pain, muttering a few obscenities under his breath.
"Sit up, boy! You were raised better than that!" She admonished him. Peachy flipped on the lamp next to the chair to brush away the ghosts that lingered in the room laughing at him. Shane looked up at her dazed for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the extra lighting. Disgusted by her action, he rubbed the back of his head.
"Peachy, you missed your calling. There's a Headmistress position at Eaton with your name on it!" He groused unenthusiastically. Peachy ignored the jab, taking a labored sip of the scotch. Her eyes bore into his brain for a second, as she swished the Johnnie Walker blend carefully. She toyed with clocking him with it if the move would knock some sense into him!
"Well, out with it!" She demanded.
"What is there to say, Peach?" He began in a defeated tone. "I believe I am in love with a woman who is not mine to have…" His words drifted off as his mind fluttered elsewhere.
"That's an impressive pity pot, you have fashioned, Shane." She interrupted without looking at him. "Frankly, I'm getting too old to watch you stew in it."
When Shane didn't respond, exasperated, she turned back towards the window taking another sip of the scotch. Her silence crippling and insulted by the remark, Shane jumped from his seat, walked towards the back of the library, disappearing into the study. Peachy heard the rattle of the liquor cabinet as Shane poured himself another drink from the adjacent room. When he returned, neither of them in better mood. Shane flopped carelessly back into the chair, spilling a drop or two on his leg. Standing in front of him with one hand on her hip, Peachy cast him an annoyed look from a safe distance by the window. She watched the rain fill puddles along the manicured lawn and slide down the greenhouse just a few yards away.
"I have a daughter that I drive eight hours round trip to visit on a weekly basis." Despite only having a side profile of his mentor, Shane could see her eyes were blazing. Shane was well aware of Peachy's decades old habit. She had done it for as long as he had known her. But Peachy never discussed Lily. "Hoping, just praying," Her voice choked up. "That one day I may reach her somehow." The unbelievable sadness in her eyes tore Shane apart.
"You're only as happy as your saddest child." Peachy told him once. He was young and arrogant then, but he completely identified with the old adage now.
"Yes." Shane acknowledged compassionately. He took a measured sip of his drink. The effects of the last one were beginning to take effect. Peachy whipped around to address him. Gulping the remaining scotch, she slammed the empty glass down on the little bureau that lined the massive window. The howling of the wind punctuated the sorrow that filled the room.
"Tell me, laddie. What did I do, for her to shut me out?"
"Noth…"
"Precisely!" She replied mournfully. "Yet, you sit here and mourn that poor girl whose heart you ripped straight out of her chest!"
"Wait a minute!" Shane protested, shooting up out of the chair. Yet, he made a hard right to stay away from her wrath. "You weren't there!"
Folding her hands across her chest,
"Don't try to pull the wool over these old eyes." Peachy reprimanded him firmly. But there was a dose of affection to match it.
"Yes, I'm sure Kimberly bears partial blame. Her issues have never been hidden from this relationship. But you…" She hurled the accusation at him. Even from across the room, the force of it, smacked him hard.
"You forget laddie, I was there, front row…"
"Too close for my taste." She added under her breath. Watching how Shane operated when he was personally wounded in an amorous relationship had been hard to stomach. It changed her view of him forever.
"…For the first battle and how you preferred to fight it."
Shane stood in front of the fireplace. Glancing down at the half-empty glass, the contents lost their appeal. He set the drink on the mantle behind him with a thud. His eyes pleaded for advise. Peachy had no pearls of wisdom to give. Shrugging, she asked,
"This Phillip fellow, he treats her well?"
Shane cringed but conceded,
"As much as I can tell."
"Then, tell me laddie, why should she be with you…"
The unspoken words spoke for themselves. Peachy stepped forward seeing how her words hurt him. Patting him on the back, she offered sympathetically,
"Sometimes, you have to learn to let go."
Shane nodded in agreement as Peachy slid past venturing towards the door.
"Take the guest room. It's too dangerous for you to travel tonight."
He never looked away from the grain of wood beneath his feet. Peachy nodded and exited for the night. Standing there until the fire dimmed, leaving the room almost completely dark, Shane's eyes traveled through the window and passed the walls of the greenhouse to where he knew the rose bush resided. Her scent permeated the air…
"What if?"