Page 2 of Fletcher

In the three years that followed, Lark worked hard to establish a solid reputation as an innovative, quick-thinking and reliable seamstress. She began cautiously making plans for the future, when she hoped to become a wardrobe director. Her relationship with Lawrence went along without a single hitch, too. She adapted to his likes and preferences, and discovered new ways to enjoy city life. He then proposed, and although she had some doubts, she convinced herself it was time to get married. It seemed that at last the jinx that had stalked her through life had finally ended.

Only it hadn’t.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Uncle Matt had managed to tell her after she’d found him on the floor of their apartment. “Can’t make it to the wedding. Love you, kid.”

Nearly a thousand of the show people who liked Matthew Ambrose had come to his funeral on Valentine’s Day. That day remained a blur of kind faces, comforting hand clasps and soft, sad voices, through which Lark had sat, numbed by disbelief. The family lawyer met with her a few days later to explain that her uncle had been in considerable debt with his production company, requiring the sale of his apartment and belongings to satisfy his creditors. Fortunately she would be allowed to live there until everything was finalized at the end of April, when she would be getting married and moving in with her new husband.

Lawrence and Kate hadn’t been able to attend Uncle Matt’s funeral, Lark remembered. They had both used work as an excuse, although she wondered if they’d simply taken the opportunity to shack up for the weekend.

Now as she walked across the terrace by the park’s lake, she suspected sex may have played a significant part in the disaster of her non-wedding. Because she was shy as well as a virgin, Lark had kept her relationship with Lawrence confined to kisses only. When he told her that he adored her, and wanted to marry her, she asked if he could wait until their wedding night before they made love for the first time. Although he’d laughed a little, he told her he understood, and after that never pressured her. Perhaps he’d already been sleeping with Kate when he’d agreed to wait.

Lark had never had a single suspicion about either of them. Lawrence had said he loved her countless times. Kate had been her friend for years.

Even now she wanted to believe they had unexpectedly fallen in love but couldn’t face her, yet that didn’t seem right. When she thought about it, Kate had been avoiding her for the last couple of weeks. Lawrence had lost interest in helping her with the final wedding arrangements as well. She wished she knew the truth. Why hadn’t the man she’d loved explained why he would do this instead of running away from their wedding without a word or any warning?

The jinx, that’s why.

A ringing sound broke through her thoughts, and Lark stopped to take out her cell phone. On the display she saw the number, which she recognized, and briefly considered blocking the caller.

Instead she answered it. “Aren’t you on my honeymoon?”

A gust of breath came over the line before Kate said in a low, sad voice, “I’m so sorry, Chickie.”

In the background she could hear a toilet flushing. She had the same opinion about her friend’s silly nickname for her. “Are you calling me from a restroom?”

“Lawrence told me not to, so I had to sneak in here before we got on the plane,” Kate said, rushing out the words. “I just thought you should know. We’ve been on and off since his divorce. It wasn’t ever serious. It’s because you wouldn’t put out. Really, Chickie, you can’t make a guy wait two years for sex. Then a month ago I got sick, and I was scared it was something bad, and, well, turns out it wasn’t. I’m pregnant.”

Lark closed her eyes. That explains it all.

“Congratulations.” Lawrence had talked a few times about having children, which he’d wanted badly, but Lark’s jinx had made it impossible for her to even think about starting a family. “Let me know where you’re registered, and I’ll send you something for the baby. Oh, right, I can’t. You two ran off with all my money.”

“I told him to leave some for you, but he wants to start over, you know, and make a clean break. Plus he lost a lot last winter on some bad investments, so we need it for the little one and our new place. You’re a hard worker, Chickie. I know you’ll get back on your feet in no time.” Kate sniffed. “I really wanted to see your dress.”

Did she think they were still friends? Lark wondered. “It’s a shame you didn’t. It turned out beautiful. It’s all I have to wear now, too. Where is my luggage?”

“This happened so quick I didn’t have time to pack. We’re the same size, so Lawrence said I should just wear your things.” Kate sighed as if she’d been forced to steal her clothes. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ll ship everything back to you when we come back from…um, I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

If she ever got it back, she’d have to burn her honeymoon wardrobe along with her wedding dress, Lark thought. “What happened to everything I moved to Lawrence’s apartment before he sublet it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll find out if he put it in with his stuff when the moving company came,” her former friend said. “I’m sure he did. He’s not a bad guy, Chickie. Look at what he did for me and the baby.”

By now any other woman would have been screaming with outrage, but all Lark could manage was a terrible pity. Unless she lied, Kate would never be able to brag about her wedding, or even the reason she had married Lawrence, which for her would be punishment enough. As for her cheating, runaway groom, Lark simply didn’t care anymore. At any time he could have called off the wedding, but instead he had turned what was supposed to be one of the most important days in her life into a bad joke. In that sense, the jinx had done her a favor.

“Look, I can’t talk much longer,” her ex-friend said. “Lawrence is waiting at the gate.”

“No problem,” Lark assured her. “Please don’t ever call me again.”

As Kate babbled something, Lark ended the call, and tucked her phone back in her little clutch, which held only a lipstick and her wallet. After paying the cab fare she had maybe twenty-six dollars to her name. With no husband, clothes, or place to call home now, that was all she had to live on until her next pay check, which wouldn’t come for another two weeks.

Could she live on two dollars a day in New York City? She was about to find out.

At the bottom of her clutch she found a couple of quarters, and looked down at Bethesda Fountain in the complex below the terrace bridge. A winged angel crowned the big sculpture in the center, from which poured sparkling water into a huge lower basin. Big black planters in the water with lotus, colocasia and papyrus plants ringed the center sculpture. Tiny glints of copper and silver from the coins people threw into the fountain made her head for the stairs. Right now the area around the fountain stood deserted, so it was the perfect time to make a wish.

After all this I deserve one, right?

Lark walked up to the concrete rim of the basin, and arranged her gown so she could sit down there. Looking up at the angel statue and the four little cherubs beneath her gave her some comfort. Uncle Matt hadn’t been religious, but she dimly remembered her grandmother taking her to church. The idea of an afterlife still appealed to her. She wanted to believe that was where her family had gone, and were now waiting for her.

She took out the quarters, and tossed them into the shimmering water. “I wish someone would love me and stay with me forever.”