The Vicarage Bench Anthology (4 page)

His head crooked to the side, questioningly.

“I’m shy.”

“I see. I understand about shyness. During medical school it tortured me until I realized a good doctor couldn’t afford the feeling, so I worked very hard to overcome it. It still takes over on occasion. Would you like me to teach you my methods? It would help you in your career and your social life.”

“I’d like that ever so much.” For the first time Lucy looked him straight in the eye.

He was taken aback at how very beautiful her big brown eyes appeared when she wasn’t hiding them under lowered lashes. He was a toucher, and he reached over to pat her hand again but pulled back when he remembered she had repulsed his touch earlier. He stood abruptly and stammered his goodbyes, but he stopped so suddenly at the doorway that she almost ran into his back. She had to put a hand on him to steady herself.

He turned, and in a hesitant voice he asked, “Would you do me the honour of dining with me on Saturday evening?”

Redness suffused her complexion and her hands clutched her chest as if she were stopping her heart from popping right out of its cavity.

“It, it’s very kind of you. I, I, yes, yes, please. Dinner would be very nice.” Power from within forced the words from her stunned lips.

“I shall pick you up at seven.”

“Yes, I’ll be here, of course I will, I mean, where else would I be, so, yes, fine. Right. Bye-bye.”

* * *

How endearing a shy woman is in the fast-paced world we now live in
, he thought to himself. Walking back to his clinic, he caught himself biting his lip, a habit he’d formed as a worried student. A habit he could have sworn he’d beaten years before. He stopped in his tracks and turned in the opposite direction to head towards the house at the end of the street, where Dr. Andrews lived.

The good doctor answered the door. “Come in, my dear fellow. You’re just the person I wanted to see.”

The two friends settled down for yet another consult on the mystery of the shy woman and her counter personality.

“I just left Lucy, and she’s very worried about Jenna,” said John.

An annoying sound of banging reverberated through the open side window. Looking out, the men saw Dr. Andrews’ cleaning woman hard at work.

“Mrs. Dorn, go and wallop that rug somewhere else. It’s very distracting.” Then he lowered his voice, adding more quietly, “Please.”

He turned to John and sighed. “I’m a bear to live with lately. That woman has me up half the night.”

“Mrs. Dorn?”

“Don’t be thick. Of course not Mrs. Dorn.” The woman was fiftyish and massively overweight, with a wart-like appendage smack dab on the end of her bulbous nose.

“It’s Lucy, isn’t it?”

“Of course. I want to help her, but I have to admit it’s Jenna who intrigues me. She’s too credible to be fake, but then that means our case can’t be described as split or multiple personality, or any kind of schizophrenia, but some sort of time travel nonsense.” He shook his head back and forth and collapsed onto his favorite rocking chair. “I’ve discussed the case with an old school friend who now works at McLean’s, the psychiatric facility affiliated with Harvard. He’s in agreement that intensive psychoanalytic therapy is the best course, but he’s flummoxed, also. He suggested Thorazine, a medication given to extreme patients, but I’ve explained that Lucy and Jenna are functioning and all the tests we’ve run show a healthy body.”

“Just a mind that’s cuckoo.” John grinned.

“I’m afraid that’s about right.” Dr. Andrews nodded, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

“I’ve told Lucy that we’ll let them rest a while, since Jenna still refuses to come out. I’ve invited Lucy out for a meal with me. She’s been cooped up in that house far too long. She’s fretting over Jenna’s withdrawal and is beside herself with worry.”

“My dear fellow, that isn’t a bit funny.”

“What? Oh sorry, didn’t quite mean it the way it sounded, but now that you mention it…” He broke into uncontrollable guffaws and the tension eased as Dr. Andrews joined in, his face split in a grin.

Chapter Seven

“Fine, then, if you won’t come out I shall go back to my old habits. Jenna, did you hear me?”

Silence.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I? I’ve followed your outlandish rules, and now I have nothing to wear that fits. I’ll have to go out shopping for new clothes by myself for the date you forced on me, and they’ll all be wrong. I promise you, my girl, you’ll hate everything we have to wear, and it’ll be in public. People will see us. And I’ll perm my hair again. It’ll be all frizzy like you hated it. It’s way too long, and I have no idea how to fix it up like you do.”

Silence.

“Jenna, I mean it. I do. Please, please talk to me. I know you’re there. I can feel you controlling me. No one meant to hurt you. Dr. Andrews is just a silly old charlatan. We don’t need him any longer. You can visit with John alone.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little hussy.”

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back! Call me whatever you wish—I’m just so glad you’re talking with me again. Even though you’re a bother, I’ve missed you.”
The last was said meekly, affectionately—shyly.

Words weren’t necessary when Jenna opened herself because she sensed all Lucy’s fears and feelings, and for once in her life she had decided to put someone else first.

“We’re beginning to look pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
Jenna strutted their body in front of the mirror and hugged the blousy dress close to the now more slender form.
“See how our skin is glowing and not so blotchy? The cream you’ve been using every morning and night has done wonders. And I like long hair. It suits us better being long—it thins out our face more.”

“
Ours? It used to be all mine before, when you hated being me.”

“I never once said I hated being you. I just used to love being me so much. Now I need to admit I have no idea why. After living with your thoughts and feelings for so long, Lucy, I realized that being me wasn’t so hot after all. I was one mean bitch.”

“Can this be used as ammunition when you revert?”

“Nope, it’s a one-time admission. Okay let’s get busy. What will you wear?”

“I’ve never let on before, Jenna, but I have a rather healthy bank account we can dip into. There were no good reasons to spend my wages, and my grandparents—I grew up with them—left the house to me, so my expenses have always been minimal. I believe a new outfit is in order, something to give me confidence. Not that I need it, now that you’re back and will be with me.”

“Hold it, chickie. Let’s get one thing straight. I’ve never been a third wheel in my life, and I don’t intend to start now.”

“What may I ask, is a third wheel?”

“The third person on a date, ménage à trois, the odd man out. See where I’m going here?”

Lucy collapsed into near-hysterics.
“I’m not going! I can’t go.”

“What is wrong with you?” Jenna yelled. “Of course you’re going on the date. You made it.”

“I did not. You did. I felt you.”

“No, Lucy.”
The absolute quietness of her answer made it all the more believable.
“You chose to say yes because you wanted to be with him that much. Admit it.”

“Yes, but I never thought you wouldn’t be with me, for goodness’ sake. I can’t go through this alone. I’ll die—or worse, I’ll throw up on him again.”

“No, you won’t. We’ll rehearse what you’ll say and how you’ll act. It’s easy, Lucy. If you look good, your confidence will be sky-high and nothing can go wrong. Trust me.”

“Trust you?”
Lucy all but screamed.
“How can I, if you absent yourself when I need you the most? I’d be terrified to be alone on a date, just the two of us, together, all alone, by ourselves…”
She ran for the brown bag and Jenna waited until the hyperventilating came to an end.

“You’re being goofy now. Look at you—a grown woman, scared of a measly man.”

“Easy for you to talk. You’ve had lots of men.”

“
Careful
!”

“Oh, you know what I mean. I’ve never even had a male friend, never mind a boyfriend. I grew up with two old fogies and spent most of my youth with an excessive degree of interest in whatever shoes I had on that day. I couldn’t look people in the eye, and it’s only been since I started work at the library that I’ve relaxed at all. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my life—a close second being strawberry ice cream.”

Jenna answered dryly,
“I’m glad I at least came first. Look, if you really need me I will be there to help. I won’t leave you in the lurch. Okay?”

“Oh thank you! You’re a saint!”
Jenna felt golden flutters of warmth flood her being as Lucy released her inhibitions and let her feelings flow.

Chapter Eight

Lucy wailed. “You said to trust you. You said everything would be fine. You said…”

“If you say ‘you said’ one more time, he’ll be treating you, not dating you. For heaven’s sake, look in the mirror. You’re lovely.”

“Where’s the ‘we’ and ‘us’ and ‘ours’ now when I need you so much, eh?”

“Look, I’m outta here. There’s no talking to you at all. Just relax and have a good time.”

The knock at the door came at the precise moment when Lucy was sure a heart attack would be imminent. Jenna had faded so deep, Lucy came close to thinking she was single again.

Once Lucy was settled across from John in the neighborhood pub, she stopped dropping her handbag from nerveless fingers and a kind of peacefulness stole over her. The next few hours flew by swiftly for the two reserved people while tiny sparks of attraction lit and burst into a small but steady flame.

Without discussion, it was understood that all references to any part of the ongoing crisis was taboo. Inhibitions died a natural death and insecurities fled as infatuation grew. By delving thoughtfully into each other’s quiet lives they became intimate friends.

The evening had given up its hold on the sun’s warmth by the time John walked Lucy to her front door. They could hear the last wind rustling the leaves goodbye as the night grew calm and the birds sang their final songs of the day.

Now, more than ever, Lucy had a clear understanding of what a dear and kind man her date was. She’d known of his strength as a competent, well-liked doctor because she wasn’t averse to casually bringing his name into any and all conversations dealing with health issues. Clearheaded, sympathetic, gentle and highly intelligent were only some of the glowing endorsements she’d heard since he’d moved into town, along with choice and groovy, the favourite compliments from the younger population.

All of a sudden her nervousness returned tenfold as she turned back to face him at her front door.

“Would you like to come in, John? I could make us a pot of tea.”

“Thank you, Lucy, but I think four cups of tea after a meal is my limit.”

“There is some old sherry my grandfather kept, if you’d like a drink instead.”

“No, my dear. It’s late, and you girls must get your beauty rest.” He endeavored to bring some levity to a suddenly awkward moment.

“It’s Jenna who needs her beauty rest. For me, it’s plain old sleep,” Lucy replied, trying to be funny in her own way and reverting back to old insecurities.

“What drivel! To me you are the same beautiful person.”

“It’s very kind of you to say so, but you don’t have to. I’m perfectly well aware of what I look like, and I’ll never be beautiful.”

“Hogwash! Lucy McGillicuddy, the first day I met you I saw a lovely woman in difficulties, and I haven’t changed my opinion. In fact it’s been reinforced many times since. And that’s all I want to hear on this subject.” He was like a ruffled bantam rooster chastising his chick, and she loved every minute of his tirade.

She loved his sincerity.

She loved his eloquence.

She loved him.

Without further thought, she leaned over and kissed him smack dab on the cheek. His eyes narrowed and he reached out and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her lips with every bit of the passion she’d only dreamt of in her wildest fantasies. And to make doubly sure she knew that he knew who he was kissing, he whispered her name before he kissed her again. While she stood utterly still, eyes tightly closed, lips still pursed, he said in a voice full of tenderness, “I’ll see you tomorrow, my sweet.” He left then, whistling all the way to his car, and with a sharp toot he drove off into the night.

Lucy fumbled her way into the house and floated to the bedroom, where she stood in front of the mirror and looked searchingly at herself, scrutinizing her features and form.

She heard Jenna whisper,
“Look closely, pal. You are beautiful.”

Lucy saw a fine-boned, firmly toned, lush feminine body a little over five feet tall, wearing a stylishly flowing pink frock with a gorgeous embroidered jacket to match. Her hair, back to its natural auburn color, fell straight in a soft pageboy style that framed a piquant face oozing such kindness that most people, looking into her merry brown eyes, smiled instinctively. People liked her at first sight. Unfortunately, her shyness had always held her back from showing them she liked them, too, so communications would break down and she’d be left to herself. She’d lived a sad, friendless life up till now, and isolation is hard to overcome. So is self-doubt.

Her grandparents had been good to her in their own way, but they were in the winter of their lives by the time she came to live with them. She was five years old, and they only lasted eleven more years before they left her one after the other in rapid succession.

Jenna broke the spell as she sensed terrible sadness overtake Lucy’s happiness of moments before.
“What is it?”
she asked quietly.

“He said he thought I was beautiful from the beginning, but he lied. I don’t look anything like I used to. I don’t look like me anymore.”

“Listen, you dim-witted idiot, because I’ll only say this one more time. He did tell you the truth. He doesn’t see me—or care about the outer you. He fell in love with the inner you—your soul. Lucy, look! He spoke with me first, right? For weeks and weeks we talked, and he was simply kind and curious. But from the moment you came on the scene he was hooked, smitten, a goner. Lady, you’ve freakin’ landed him.”