Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

30. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

D espite all the encouragement from Laura and Joy, Diana dreaded the arrival of Preston. His letters were gushy and at one time, she’d found that endearing, but now it was off-putting. More than once, he mentioned her beautiful hair and how he wanted to run his fingers through it. Whenever it came to that part, she’d fold the letter back up and tuck it neatly into its envelope. In the past, she had always looked forward to Preston’s letters, but today, she felt nothing but sadness. In the letter before the accident, he’d mentioned the subject of marriage and excitedly, she’d told some of her friends at work. How stupid could one person be? She had stopped rereading his letters. They were now in a box beneath her bed, gathering dust. There was no point.

Initially, she put off seeing him, making one excuse after another. But finally, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and it was agreed that he would come over on the third night of his leave. Laura and Joy stopped by beforehand and helped Diana select a dress. She picked one that enhanced the color of her eyes. At least that’s what Joy told her. There were no stockings to be had, so she was left with no choice but to go with bare legs. She had a great pair of legs, but they were no longer tan. It had been so long since she’d been down to the beach. The last thing she did was put on a headscarf, double-checking it to make sure it was secure.

When Preston arrived on her doorstep with a large bouquet of flowers, she was touched. What she had not expected was for him to pull her into his arms. It happened so fast that she felt her headscarf shift, and she quickly reached up and made sure it was still in place.

“Come here, beautiful,” he said, kissing her on the lips.

Millie emerged from the back of the house. “Is that you, Preston?”

“Hello, Mrs. Quinn,” he said. He’d draped an arm around Diana’s shoulders, and Diana wished she could dislodge herself. It almost felt as if the walls were closing in on her.

Millie sensed Diana’s distress. “What are your plans tonight?” she asked, the fingers of one hand splayed across her collarbone.

Preston looked at Diana, his arm still linked around her shoulders. “I don’t know. I thought we’d go dancing.”

That was the last thing Diana wanted to do.

Millie glanced at her daughter and said in an unnaturally high voice, “That sounds nice.”

Diana gave a slight nod.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Have a lovely evening,” Millie said. “Not too late, Diana.”

“No, Ma.”

Millie disappeared down the hall and shut her bedroom door.

“Where would you like to go dancing?” Preston asked.

“I thought we could stay in,” Diana said. She slipped out from under his arm and put some space between them, enough that she was out of his reach.

Preston frowned and put his hands in his pockets. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

She didn’t miss the hurt in his voice. “Of course I am, Preston. But I’m not the same person you knew before.”

His grin was wide. “Don’t be silly, Diana. You’re the girl I remember. You’re as beautiful as ever.”

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped forward, reaching for her hand. “Come on, I think we need to trip the light fantastic. You used to love dancing.”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I don’t want to.”

“Remember all the dancing we used to do? Remember, we swore we were going to have a whole bunch of little dancers ourselves.”

Diana clasped her hands in front of her mouth to prevent a cry from escaping. With a shaky voice, she said, “I haven’t been dancing in a long time.”

Preston looked skeptical. “You? I don’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s true,” she said with more sharpness than she intended.

“We’re going to have to do something about that,” he whispered, sidling up next to her. In the past, that tone had always made her knees weak, but now it irritated her. Again, she stepped away from him.

He looked at her headscarf and said, “Did you want to get ready or something? Do your hair?”

Diana snorted; she couldn’t help it. Why wasn’t he listening to her? “Do my hair? Preston, didn’t you get my letter about my accident?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure I did. You said you hurt your head at the plant.”

Boy, she wished it were as simple as that. And now, she wished she’d told him the truth. The harsh reality of it. “It was a little more than me hurting my head.”

He looked at her, saying nothing. Waiting.

“Preston,” she said quietly, “I didn’t tell you everything in my letter, and maybe I should have. I’m missing part of my scalp.” She gestured to the left side of her head. “My hair is gone on this side of my head. The scarf is permanent. I will be wearing a head covering for the rest of my life.”

Preston’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Sweetheart, it can’t be that bad,” he said, mustering a smile. He reached for her, touching her arm, but Diana flinched and stepped back. His smile faltered. “Come on, Diana, it’s me, Preston.”

“I’m trying to tell you that it is that bad.”

“What about a wig?”

Diana shook her head. “They irritate my scalp.” She had one tucked away in the closet in case of an emergency, but she’d never worn it, preferring the headscarves. The wig made her scalp sweat, which became uncomfortable.

“Let me take a look at it.”

“It’s not pretty,” Diana warned.

“Why don’t you show me and let me be the judge,” he said gently.

Despite her refusals, he continued to pester her to see it, reassuring her that it would be all right. Finally, she gave in to his demands.

No one except her mother and Laura and Joy had seen the extent of her injury. She didn’t think she trusted Preston as she did them. But she realized, sadly, they could not go forward until he’d seen it. They’d talked about getting married; she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him forever.

As she untied her scarf at the nape of her neck, she had a sense of foreboding, of things ending. Her shoulders sagged a little. Slowly, she pulled off the scarf.

Preston took a step back, nearly stumbling. He blanched, his face going whiter than white, and his eyes widened. Diana hastily put the scarf back on, tying it tightly. She forced herself to look at him.

He was no longer simply pale. His color had taken on a greenish hue, and she wondered if he was going to throw up. She couldn’t blame him. It was what she’d done when she’d first seen it in the mirror.

“So, you see why I can’t go out,” she said.

“Uh-huh.” He shifted on his feet, swallowing hard, looking as if he might need a drink.

The silence stretched out between them. There was no more talk of going dancing, no more “sweetheart,” only thundering silence. It was in the space of that silence that Diana made a decision.

“Look, Preston, we sure had a lot of fun.”

He nodded.

“But you see,” she said, “with you being away and everything, it’s too hard for me. I want someone who’s here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I know you spoke about marriage,”—Preston took in a sharp breath—“but I’m going to have to refuse.”

“Huh?” he asked as if coming out of a stupor.

Diana raised her voice slightly and said again, “You spoke about marriage in your letters, but I’ll have to decline.” His emphasis on the subject had increased with every letter. Now she regretted not putting a stop to it at the time. It had been unfair to both of them.

If the relief that so visibly washed over him had been a wave, it would have knocked over the house.

“I appreciate the time we’ve spent together,” she went on, “but it’s time to go our separate ways.”

Preston gave a slight nod. Diana met his gaze and clearly saw his discomfort. She lifted her chin. And even though she was shaking, she stood her ground.

He started to speak, but then stopped and cleared his throat and mumbled, “You’re right, it’s probably for the best.”

There was a tiny part of Diana that had hoped he’d fight for her. But when no protests were forthcoming, when he didn’t shout her down and tell her that he loved her no matter what, that little flame of hope was extinguished.

There was no point in prolonging this. She pivoted and walked toward the door to see him out.

Before he left, he surprised her by leaning in and kissing her cheek, and she forced herself to still the wave of emotion that rose up within her. He whispered, “Take care of yourself, Diana.” And he slipped outside and was gone.

She closed the door behind him and sagged against it, swiping the tears that fell from her eyes.

That’s that, then.

She headed toward her room and ran into her mother, who was emerging from hers.

“Where’s Preston?” Millie asked.

“He’s gone.”

“Is he coming back?”

Diana shook her head. “No, he isn’t.”

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.”

Bed was the safest place for her right now. She planned on crawling beneath the blankets and staying there. Because there was no reason at all to get up.