Opening his laptop, Harvey looked at Taylor and said, "I have been doing a lot of research, and I have a strong understanding of you and Bennett's background until he announced he was resigningas senator. What I, and frankly no one else, seem to know is what led up to that moment. What can you tell me about what caused you two to break up and what led to the end of Carrington's political career?
Chewing nervously on her bottom lip, Taylor took a deep breath and let it out. She silently prayed that she was making the right decision in publicly sharing the whole sordid story. Wishing she'd asked for liquid courage, she took a deep breath and said, "Well, I guess we should start at the beginning of the end.”
Searcy Country Club
Searcy, Arkansas
March 2012
Pulling her white Mercedes into the Searcy Country Club, Taylor Carrington looked down at the buzzing cell phone in the console and ignored it. She could not stem the flare of irritation that rippled through her as she saw Bennett's name flash on the screen. How many calls did this make? Three? Four? She made no move to answer the phone this time, any more than she had last night or earlier this morning. Instead, she just let it go directly to voicemail.
Bennett would be quite ticked off at her by now. He had left several messages, but she had yet to listen to any of them. It was childish and petty not to answer. Bennett was being Bennett, the responsible, good husband he was. But, as rude as it was, Taylor was just not up to another surface conversation between two polite people talking about absolutely nothing.
In a classic Bennett move, he had Joules start calling her when she did not answer. She has ignored those calls and texts as well,except for letting Joules know she was okay and asking that they all stop texting her. She will be in touch soon.
It was not that Taylor had not expected the calls. She had. As had been his habit since he had brought her back from Scotland as a lost twenty-two-year-old over a decade before, Bennett always checked on Taylor at least once every day, even before they married. After their wedding, he continued the tradition whenever they were apart overnight. A common occurrence once Bennett won his first US Senate seat almost ten years earlier. Since then, he spent nearly six months a year in Washington while Taylor often remained in Searcy.
In the early days, Taylor, who was still teaching then, had looked forward to those calls. Back then, she used the calls as a way to try and connect with Bennett. She had seen them as a bridge that would allow them to stay connected while apart. Somewhere along the way, that changed.
The calls now felt forced and scripted. Each call followed the same sequence. It would begin with Bennett apologizing for calling too late. Then he would explain that he only had a few moments to talk as he had a late meeting with one group or another. This would be followed by the perfunctory questions about her day. These end-of-day calls had become a boring dance that had lost its rhythm.
Some nights, Taylor fantasized about telling Bennett some wild tale to see if he was even listening. She never did for fear that no matter how she answered the question about her day, he would still say, "Great, I am glad you had a good day," before telling her he loved her and wishing her a good night. Instead, she played her part in this charade, and the calls continued in their expected fashion. He'd call, and she would tell him everything was fine, even when it was not. She never said that she was sad, lonely, or bored, though she often was. She was unable to share almost anythingwith the one person with whom she should have been able to share everything.
As the phone continued ringing, Taylor realized that at that moment, being sad, lonely, and bored pretty much summed up life for the last several years. But as she always did when such emotions threatened to overtake her, Taylor quickly pushed them down. Now was not the time to start thinking about that. If she had learned anything over the last decade, it was that life keeps moving no matter what happens to you. You had to keep moving with it. So, she had become a master of hiding her true feelings. She put on a happy face each morning and forged ahead. What else could she do? She had done it with her family. She had done it with her babies, and she was doing it with her marriage. Right now, life was not about her.
Bennett had a campaign to win. He was counting on her to help him do that. She owed him so much. Maybe when the campaign was over, they would have the time to talk, really talk. To reconnect. To fix the unspoken, broken parts of their marriage. But not today. Today required her to play the part she had perfected over the years as the caring, supportive wife of the junior senator from Arkansas.
With her emotions checked, Taylor took a final peek in the rearview mirror to ensure her makeup was flawless. Confident that she had effectively masked her internal turmoil, Taylor reached for the doorknob just as she heard the familiar ping on her phone alerting her she had a voicemail. Ignoring it, she threw her phone into her purse. What could missing one more call hurt? They would still be waiting on her when her afternoon event was over.
Slipping out of her car, Taylor made the short walk across the parking lot to the entrance to the local country club that she had been a member of her whole life. She had grown up within the walls of the stone and marble building. It never ceased to amazeher that such a beautiful club was located in her small Arkansas town. Many times over the last ten years, as the wife of Bennett Carrington, she had had the opportunity to attend events across Arkansas and other states. She had been in some of the swankiest, most exclusive private clubs across the country. Yes, most were bigger, cost more, and had more amenities, but not one was more special to her. It was her personal history with the place that endeared it to her. Many of her cherished memories had taken place there.
It was the one place in the world she still felt close to her family. In the Founders' Bar, there were pictures featuring her father and brother. The numerous photos had been taken after each had won various tournaments over the years. Each summer, her father's golf shoes and bag were still placed on the first tee box on the first day of the club championship, along with the other past winners who were no longer living. Her brother Tatum achieved a similar level of success in tennis as their father had in golf. He had been ranked in the top five in high school and played tennis for the University of Arkansas. The end of the summer tennis tournament still carried his name as a lasting tribute to his contribution to the club's tennis program. Making a promise to swing by the bar later to see her family’s photos, Taylor walked into the club feeling lighter and more hopeful than she had in weeks. All thoughts of Bennett and his annoying calls were forgotten.
The event that Taylor was attending today was very important to her. For the past seven years, Taylor has acted as the events chairperson for the Annual Art Preview Luncheon. This year, she had dropped out of it, per doctor's orders. She had been told she had to reduce stress as she recuperated from a procedure she had almost six months earlier. Even though she was not organizing the event, Taylor was excited to attend and lend her support. The luncheon was a preliminary event to raise interest in the annualHospital Gala Extravaganza held at the club in a little over a week’s time. The Ladies Auxiliary Corp of Searcy sponsored both events to raise funds for the White County Hospital and the free after-hours clinic the group supported financially. Walking in, Taylor could feel the buzz of nervous energy flowing around her. She knew too well how stressful these events could be and was grateful to attend as a guest. For the first time in years, she was looking forward to it.
Most years, artists from across the state were invited to showcase their work, with a portion of the proceeds from the sale going to the hospital memorial fund. This year, only one artist, Poppy Thompson, was featured. Poppy was a White County native but now lived in New York City.
Taylor’s and Poppy’s paths crossed many years ago as Poppy's grandmother had been Mr. Carrington's maid. Family dinners at their home were common, given that her father and Bennett's were law partners. Taylor had not seen her since she left for Scotland just before her last semester of college. Taylor remembered that Poppy and her grandmother had lived in the apartment over the Carrington's garage. She never knew where the girl's parents were and why Poppy did not live with them. Taylor did not remember much about her other than she had not been very friendly. In fact, Poppy had been downright rude to Taylor on the few occasions they met. She was never sure what she had done to make the girl dislike her so much. But, honestly, it had never bothered her. Poppy was a few years younger, and the two had not run in the same circles.
Taylor wondered briefly how difficult it must have been for Poppy being surrounded by the luxury of the Carrington mansion but never really belonging. Taylor would like to think that back then, she and her friends were not bratty snobs who looked down on people who had less than they did, but she could not quite convince herself that was the case. A little nagging flame of guiltflared in her chest, but Taylor ignored it. Whatever had happened in the past, she hoped it stayed there. Taylor made a mental promise to be extra kind to the artist and make her feel welcomed and accepted by her hometown today as she should have been years ago.
With that thought in mind, Taylor walked into the club's large reception area and saw an impressive banner announcing an exhibit entitledGrowing Up New York. Taylor felt excited about meeting the artist and seeing her work. From what Taylor had heard, it was causing a stir in the art world. All around her, Taylor could see beautiful ladies of various ages making final preparations for the luncheon.
Scanning the room, Taylor immediately noticed a group of older ladies huddled in one corner. Having chaired this event for years, Taylor knew something was off. In the middle of the group, holding court, was Edna Stone. She was surrounded by her entourage in an intense discussion. Taylor had never been more glad to not be in charge of something in her entire life.
Taylor was more than a little intimidated by Edna Stone. She had grown up hearing stories about her, specifically about Edna’s daughter, Anita, and her own mother, Janice. They had been fierce rivals in high school. Both were smart, beautiful, accomplished young women who competed in everything. One year, one would be named class princess, and the next year, the other would. This back-and-forth fight to be the class queen bee created a lot of hurt and resentment over the years. As her mother told it, Janice was expected to be the homecoming queen her senior year.
However, a week before the team voted, the Stones gave a large endowment for new uniforms and a new scoreboard to the football team. Anita was named Homecoming Queen and later Prom Queen. Taylor’s mother never got over losing out. She accused the Stone family of buying the two events. Lots of angry words werespoken. Anita married and moved away, but Edna remained in town. Taylor’s mom had to socialize with her at everything. It was always awkward, and she imparted those feelings to Taylor. Thinking about the group, Taylor knew that whatever was wrong, it was not good.
While the little drama with Edna was playing out across the room, Taylor scanned the room and realized that she knew almost everyone there. Several friends and acquaintances, such as her good friends Marla Drew, Tonya Smith, and Jackie Allison, and many others who could always be counted on to help with community fundraisers, hugged her and offered support and good wishes on Bennett being named a possible vice-presidential candidate in the upcoming election. After all, it had been a foregone conclusion that it was his legacy to be the next president from Arkansas. He'd been groomed for the role his whole life.
While nothing was set in stone, the media had been offering his name as a strong contender for several weeks. The truth was, Bennett was being vetted for the position. Of course, Taylor did not acknowledge that. She simply thanked everyone for their support and kind words. She made small talk by asking about their families and catching up with old friends she had not seen in ages.
In just a matter of a few minutes, the room filled to overflowing. Taylor was pleased to see that the event was shaping up to be a success. Glancing around the ever-growing crowd, Taylor continued to wave and smile to friends and acquaintances. But it was Poppy, the artist, she did not see anywhere. This was surprising to Taylor. She personally knew one of Edna Stone's hard and fast rules regarding this event was that exhibiting artists had to attend the luncheon. Edna believed more art would sell if the artists were there to make the buyer feel good about the purchase. So, where was she? Taylor wondered if the missing artist was the reason for the tension coming from Edna and her crew. Looking at her watch,Taylor realized the event was about ten minutes behind schedule. Edna Stone was a stickler for following a schedule. If an event was supposed to begin at 11:30, by God, it would start at 11:30 on the nose. Taylor knew that if the luncheon was starting late, it was not good. Once again, she was thrilled she was just a guest and not in charge. Heaven help Johnna Wright, this year's chairwoman.
As the minutes ticked by, Taylor could not help but think more about Poppy. She wondered about the artist's work. She did not know much about it. Since she was not involved in this year's committee meetings, she only knew that Poppy was selected because Edna Stone had pushed for her. Evidently, Edna had a nephew who had an excellent eye for art, and he believed that Poppy was the next big thing in the art world. It did not hurt that the event's committee hoped that having a homegrown artist would increase interest in the event across the state, translating into more dollars for the hospital. Taylor could not argue with that logic. From the looks of the crowd, Taylor supposed the committee had been correct.
Determined to be one of the first to welcome Poppy back to Searcy, Taylor continued to scan the crowd for any sight of her. A waiter had just handed Taylor a glass of chardonnay when Johnna Wright broke free of the group of ladies whom Taylor had been watching and made a beeline for the podium at the front of the room.
