Read Simply Being Belle Online
Authors: Rosemarie Naramore
Simply Being Belle
SIMPLY BEING BELLE
Rosemarie Naramore
All the characters in
this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental.
SIMPLY BEING BELLE
©
Copyright 2012 by Rosemarie Naramore
All
rights reserved.
Other books by Rosemarie Naramore:
Light-hearted romance novels
Summer
on the Mountain (Amazon e-book)
Just
in Time
Armed
and Disarming
The
Detour
Lacey’s
Homecoming
Mystery novels
The
Listing Agent
Deputy Down
(Coming June, 2012)
For the kids
Phantom Dead
(Amazon e-book)
Coming soon!
Something Shady
(Amazon e-book)
Contents
Belle glanced
around her home, assuring it was tidy. An eclectic mix of furnishings and accessories
enlivened the tiny cottage her friends often described as shabby chic. If
indeed her decorating fell under any heading of a design category or style, it
was purely coincidental. Belle had no time for decorating—wouldn’t spare it if
she did. She had furnished her home for comfort; nothing more, nothing less.
With a deep,
steadying breath, she hurried to retrieve a tape from the armoire in her family
room. She pulled it from its hiding place behind her meager assortment of
newer DVDs. She had little time for viewing movies, either.
She stared at the
tape. Labeled “Sweet Sixteen Party,” it was a window into her past she forced
herself to look through one time each year. The annual birthday viewing was a
self-imposed penance for past wrongs, a reminder of whom and what she had been
and would never be again.
She placed the
tape atop the antiquated VCR. When her friends arrived, she would slip it into
the device, press play, and get on with it—and the sooner the better. Suddenly,
her thoughts were interrupted by Tri, the massive dog she’d adopted six months
before. The gargantuan pooch tore into the room, put on the brakes when he
spied her, but to no avail. He lost his footing and slid across the room,
striking an end table, and sending it toppling over.
“Tri! How did you
get in here?”
Only moments
before, she had put him out back, along with Cy, the smaller dog she’d also
adopted from the Humane Society. Both animals had been special needs
adoptions.
Belle took a hold
of Tri’s collar and hauled him to the back door. She found a gaping hole in
the recently replaced screen. “Tri!” she moaned. “Not another ruined screen!”
The dog managed to
look somewhat repentant. Regardless, she nudged him out the screen door with
her knee, and quickly closed the wooden door behind him this time. He wasn’t
particularly eager to go outside, but she knew her friend Lacey wouldn’t
appreciate it if he happened to soil her evening wear with his unending supply
of doggie drool.
Lacey had called
earlier and mentioned that she and Steven had plans for a night on the town
after they left Belle’s place this evening. She had also attempted to beg off
this night, but Belle had insisted she come. It was critical that the people
most important to her see the tape.
As if on cue, the
phone rang. She sighed as she answered it, since the caller ID showed it was
Lacey again. “Belle, this is ridiculous!” she declared without preamble.
“Forget the darned tape and come out with us tonight.”
“You know I have
to watch it,” she said wearily.
“People change,
Belle! You changed! Good grief, you were just a child when that tape was made!
You’re a different person now. Get over it already!”
“I was sixteen,
certainly not a child. And I know many, many sixteen-year-olds who have a social
conscience—who actually boast some common sense. What went wrong in my case,
do you think?” she mused aloud.
Lacey snorted.
“Belle, stop this nonsense! Forgive yourself! Besides, if you’re going to
blame somebody, blame your parents.”
“No, that’s a
copout. I was old enough to know better. Lacey, I dyed my poodles purple and
gold to match my school colors! I insisted my sixteenth birthday party rival—no—surprass
any other held in Lawton that year. Good grief, we could have fed a third
world country for a week for the cost of that party.”
“Again, I’m
thinking your parents are more culpable than you, my friend. Oh, Belle,” she
sighed, “do I have to watch the tape again? Frankly, the acting is bad and the
plot is weak.” She laughed at her joke.
“I need you here,”
Belle replied seriously. “I need you to hold me accountable for my behavior.
I need…”
“You need to get
over yourself. Destroy that tape!” she commanded, right before she hung up the
phone in frustration.
Belle replaced the
phone on the hook and righted the toppled end table. With another deep,
steadying breath, she surveyed the room again, attempting to shore herself for
the tape viewing. Watching it was, frankly, painful. She truly hoped Lacey
understood why she asked her friends to suffer through it with her each year.
As she waited for
them to arrive, she felt herself transported back in time. She saw herself at
age seventeen, exactly one year after her infamous Sweet Sixteen party. She’d
arrived home from nearly a year abroad with her grandfather, John. During her
travels, her eyes had been opened to the plight of those less fortunate, and she
had been profoundly changed by the experience.
Her grandfather
had known exactly what he had been doing when he’d pulled her out of her
exclusive private school for the trip, soon after she’d turned sixteen. Her
parents had protested vehemently at first, but ultimately, her grandfather had
prevailed. He had still controlled the purse strings then, and much as Belle
hated to admit it, she was the product of two rather superficial people
accustomed to a life of extravagance—a life bought and paid for by Grandma Liz,
John’s wife.
Belle missed her
granddad terribly. It had been just a year since his passing. Like Lacey, he
had urged her to stop viewing the tape, but he had understood why she needed to.
Besides, she’d be off the hook in only one year, when she turned thirty. Her
self-imposed punishment would end then, and only then, she would destroy the
tape.
When the doorbell
rang, she hurried to the front door and found Lacey and Steven standing side by
side, looking crisp and polished in their evening wear, but wearing grim
expressions on their faces. “Let’s get this over with,” Lacey said impatiently
as she flounced past Belle, simultaneously tossing her dark hair back with a
flick of her hand.
Steven, fair-haired
and freckled, grinned and shrugged as he followed. Belle was about to close
the door behind them when to her surprise, a tall man, also dressed to the
nines in a dark suit, stepped across the threshold. She glanced at him
uncertainly.
“I’m with them.”
He motioned toward Lacey and Steven.
“Oh,” Belle said.
She watched him curiously, taking in his thick sandy hair and deep blue eyes.
He looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
“Oh, sorry,” Lacey
called out as she returned to the tiny foyer. “Belle, this is Dare Jamison.
Dare, this is Belle, my best friend—the one intent on torturing us with a bit
of meaningless, ancient history. Okay, move it,” she snapped, clapping her
hands together. “Get the tape into the VCR. We don’t have all night.”
Belle glanced at
Dare and smiled tightly. So Lacey had brought along a friend to watch her
tape. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but realized that having a stranger
see it would serve to assure the sting of this thirteenth viewing wouldn’t
lessen any. And that was the point. Punishment wasn’t punishment unless it
stung a little.
He returned her
smile. “This way?” he asked, pointing toward the living room.
“Please.” She led
him into the room. “Well, I’ll start the tape as soon as the others arrive,”
she said too brightly.
“What others?”
Lacey intoned. “Nobody else is coming.”
“But … I thought
Ellen and Trish…”
She shook her
head. “Nope. They went to the movies, along with Brad and Robin.”
Belle sighed. So
… many of her friends had abandoned her. She couldn’t actually blame them. A
viewing of her Sweet Sixteen party tape, though probably providing some comic
relief, couldn’t possibly compete with the latest Ben Stiller movie.
“Well, let’s get
started then,” she said, casting a furtive glance at the newcomer in the room.
Where had she seen him before? Considering his striking good looks, she was
certain she would remember him had she met him before. Tall and broad
shouldered, he seemed to fill the small living room. He exuded confidence and
something else…
When he caught her
staring at him, he smiled kindly—a sweet, encouraging smile. Had Lacey and
Steven filled him in on what was in store for him this evening? If so, what
was he smiling about?
“Yes, let’s get
started,” Lacey repeated pointedly.
“Okay,” Belle said.
She crossed the room and pushed the tape into the slot in the VCR. She pressed
play and then moved to the only open seat—a wooden rocker beside Dare. She
turned toward him briefly. He smiled again, and she felt the oddest, tiny
fluttering in her heart.
And then the tape
began, with a musical accompaniment added later when Belle’s mother had had the
tape professionally edited. She hated to imagine what it would have looked
like with no editing—if her mother hadn’t had several of her tantrums erased.
She was particularly grateful the portion where she had yelled at their dog
groomer had been left on the cutting room floor. The groomer hadn’t managed to
die Belle’s poodle Tizzy the exact shade of purple she had specified. Thankful
for small favors and suddenly even more on edge than she usually was when she
viewed the tape, she subsided into the rocker and watched.
Suddenly, her sixteen-year-old
face filled the screen. She watched her own heavily lashed, violet eyes widen
with anticipation, and perfectly painted lips curve into an expectant smile. Her
honey blond hair, tousled just so, was a stylish perch for the diamond studded
tiara her mother had given her as an early birthday present. She noted her
makeup was flawless, though why she needed makeup then was beyond her now. She
wore a strapless, purple gown and matching shoes, also embellished with real
diamonds. Her face, the picture of youthful beauty and innocence, suddenly contorted.
“Let’s get this party started!” she cried, and Belle cringed even now when she
heard it.
The camera had
panned out then, exposing a massive crowd of well-dressed, but rowdy teens.
Occasionally, the cameraman focused on a particular teen, at which time the
subject would shout out, “Awesome party!” or “Best Party of the year!” or
“Belle, I love you! Thank you for inviting me!”
When the most
popular Boy Band of the day appeared onstage, the crowd erupted. Belle
sauntered onstage with the group, looking smug as the lead singer dedicated the
performance to her. She bestowed him with a smirk, at which time the crowd
erupted again. She grabbed the mic. “Yeah, sing for me,” she urged in a bored
tone. “…And only for me.”