Boardwalk Brides

by Janice Thompson

  “I don’t recall ever hearing you sing alone before, that’s all. And you’re not tone-deaf, Taffie. You’ve got to stop saying that.”

  “Really?” She tried a few more bars. This time her mother joined in, harmonizing. From out of the darkness, the sound of a harmonica playing almost caused Taffie to stop singing. Instead, she increased her volume. The Carini family had a full-out concert, right there at the front door of the taffy shop. “Sugar, Sugar” filled the air.

  Taffie couldn’t help but think it was the first of many love songs yet to come.

  As Ryan pulled his car into his older brother’s driveway, he glanced in the backseat to find Casey fast asleep. “Go ahead and sleep, you little matchmaker, you.” He turned off the car and opened his door. A stirring at the front door of the house caught his attention. Vic approached the car.

  “Hey.” Ryan stepped out of the car, then looked at his brother with great curiosity. “You’re. . .home.”

  “Yeah. I’m home.”

  “So, are you and Mallory. . .”

  “We’re thinking about it. Tonight we’re on again. Maybe tomorrow we’ll be off. Who knows.” Vic shrugged. “To be honest, I’m so tired of the back and forth stuff.”

  “Me, too.” This time the voice came from the back seat. Ryan reached for the handle and opened the door, watching as Casey—eyes now wide open—unfastened her seat belt. “Daddy! You’re home!” She practically flung herself in her father’s arms. “I had so much fun tonight. I learned how to make taffy and I ate lots and lots and lots of sugar!”

  “Hmm. I see.” Vic turned to give Ryan an inquisitive look.

  Ryan put his hands up in self-defense. “Not my fault. I did my best to curb the sweets. But when you’re stuck in a candy shop with a seven-year-old, you’re lucky to get out alive. That’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.”

  As if to echo his words, Casey groaned. “My tummy hurts. I don’t feel so good.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Vic swept his daughter into his arms. “C’mon in the house, baby. Your mommy will make it all better.”

  Ryan watched the interaction between father and daughter with a hopeful sigh. Maybe, just maybe, this time things would work out between Vic and Mallory. Maybe God, in His infinitely supernatural way, would make everything better.

  TWELVE

  The following Saturday morning Ryan picked up the phone to call Taffie. When she answered, something caught him off guard. Was she. . .singing?

  “Taffie, is that you? This is Ryan.”

  “Oh, I uh. . .”

  He heard the strains of music in the background and couldn’t resist asking the obvious. “Were you singing?”

  “Who, me? I, um, I don’t usually. . .”

  “Sure sounded like singing to me,” he said. “And on key, at that. So what was all that stuff about not being able to carry a tune in a bucket?”

  “Not sure what’s going on,” she confessed. “I guess I was singing along with the overhead music and didn’t even realize it. Strange, huh?”

  “Yes. And very suspicious, though I’m sure Casey would have plenty to say about it. She would probably cast you in her next movie.”

  “No doubt. And Tangie would try to put me in one of her plays.” She laughed, temporarily breaking the tension. “But I can assure you, I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag.”

  A momentary silence followed, just long enough for Ryan’s nerves to kick in once again. Time to give his reason for calling. “I, um, just wanted to check in with you. What time should I meet you at the shop?”

  “Five would be fine. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Me, too.” Should he say how much? Nah, better leave it at that.

  They ended the call and Ryan spent the rest of the morning and the better part of the early afternoon working alongside his father to repair a commercial refrigerator at one of the city’s larger restaurants. Afterward, dripping with sweat and completely exhausted, he headed home to take a shower. Casey met him at the door of the house. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

  “Uncle Ryan!”

  “Hey, pip squeak. What are you doing here?”

  “Grandma is watching me. My parents are on a date.”

  “Really?” Ryan had to smile at that idea. “And what do you think of that?”

  “I think it’s romantical.” Her smile broadened. . .for a moment. “But. . .”

  “But what?”

  She shrugged and led him by the hand into the living room. “They still fight a lot. I heard them last night really late. They thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t. They were so loud.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” He reached to give her a hug.

  “I’m scared. Do you think my daddy’s gonna leave again?” Her eyes filled with crocodile tears.

  Ryan sighed. He hated this part. “I hope not, honey. But we’ll pray about that. I know that God is bigger than any problems your parents are facing. Want to pray with me?” When she nodded, he took her by the hands and prayed a simple but heartfelt prayer.

  Afterward, Casey looked up at him with a confident smile. “I feel better now.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her eyes twinkled as she asked, “Are you still going on your date tonight, too?”

  “Yes, but no singing. And definitely no dancing. I’ve got two left feet, you know.”

  “You do?” She looked down, clearly confused.

  Ryan laughed, wondering if he should explain that statement or just move on. Nah, just move on.

  “Uncle Ryan?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  She paused for a moment and her eyes glistened as she asked, “Even if you don’t sing and dance, you’re still gonna kiss her, right? Like the prince in the movie?”

  “It’s just our first date,” he argued. “A gentleman would wait until later.”

  Casey released an exasperated sigh. “You’re never gonna find a wife, Uncle Ryan. And I’m never going to get to be a flower girl.”

  “Ah.” Realization struck. “Is that the real issue here?”

  “I’m getting old.”

  “Old?” He gave her a curious look.

  “All of my friends have already been flower girls, but I never have. And everyone knows flower girls have to be little. I’m still pretty short, but I won’t be this size forever, so you have to hurry up.”

  “Ah. Well, kiddo, I’ll see what I can do about that. I can’t make you any promises but this one: If and when I do get married, you can be a flower girl.”

  “I’m gonna look pretty goofy if I’m, like, twenty or something. I guess I’ll just have to be a bridesmaid.” Casey rose from the sofa and skipped off into the kitchen.

  Ryan thought about her words as he showered. Was he looking for a wife? Was that the plan? He hadn’t really thought about Taffie as wife material before, had he? In fact, he hadn’t given much thought to marriage at all, not with the problems going on between Vic and Mallory. No, right now marriage seemed more like an illusion of some sort. All smoke and mirrors, but not real.

  On the other hand. . . He allowed his thoughts to shift as he got dressed. His parents had a strong marriage. So did Taffie’s. Maybe Vic and Mallory just needed to take a few lessons from the older generation.

  At four-thirty, Ryan bounded down the stairs, headed toward the front door.

  “Stop right there, mister.” His mother entered the room, beaming like the late afternoon sunshine. “I hope you don’t think you’re blowing in and blowing out that fast. You didn’t even say hello. And now you’re not saying goodbye?”

  “Sorry, Mom. I’m just─”

  “I know, I know.” She chuckled. “Casey told me. You have a date with Taffie.” Her eyes reflected genuine curiosity. “Though why you never told me, I don’t know. I remember when you used to share the details with good ole mom. Now I have to hear the juicy tidbits from a seven-year-old.”

  Ryan sighed. “That’s just it, Mom. There are no juicy tidbits. I want to be really car
eful about all of this. I really like Taffie. A lot. But we haven’t even been on our first date yet, and Casey’s already got us married off. She’s got her heart set on being a flower girl. Can you believe it?”

  “Pink.”

  “E–excuse me?”

  “Casey is hoping you’ll choose pink for your wedding color. She wants you to know she looks best in pink. Cotton-candy pink. Not hot pink or anything like that. And by the way, she wants to carry pink sweetheart roses and wear a tiara with lots of sparkles in it.”

  “Good grief.” Ryan sighed, ready to stop the conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, I’d just like to have a quiet dinner with a really nice girl from a great family. No pressure. And no wedding bells. No pink roses. And definitely no tiaras.”

  His mom put her hands up in the air, feigning innocence. “I’m not saying another word. Go. Have a good time. But don’t think you’re sneaking in here late tonight without giving me details.”

  “I feel like a kid again.”

  “Well, you should. It’s been awhile since you’ve been on a date. Now, skedaddle.”

  With an unexpected smile on his lips, Ryan turned and skedaddled. . .all the way to the car.

  “Mom, can you and Pop do without me now?” Taffie looked across the shop at her mother.

  “Um, sure, honey.” Her mom looked up from serving a chocolate malt to a customer. “Go ahead and get ready.”

  Taffie slipped out from behind the candy counter and made her way to the office in the back of the store, where she located her change of clothes. Looking at the beautiful pink blouse and black slacks, she had to smile. People always said she looked great in pink. Well, her mom and sisters always said she looked great in pink, anyway. Maybe Ryan would think so, too.

  She rushed to the ladies room, where she changed out of her work clothes, then worked to transform herself. A little makeup, a few minutes with the curling iron, and before long, she was good to go. Taffie gave herself another once-over in the mirror, startled at how changed she looked from just a few short minutes ago. Or was it just the sparkle in her eyes? Possibly.

  Why not sparkle? Just the idea of spending time alone with Ryan made her smile. In fact, every time she thought of him, a delicious sense of joy rose up inside her. Surely tonight she would get to know him better, find out for sure if he was the sort of guy she would want to. . .

  To marry? Strange, how the words flew into her mind. Not even one date yet, and she was thinking of marriage? Odd, but not really, in light of her upbringing. What was it Pop always said? “Don’t waste your time dating ’em if they’re not the sort of fella you’d want to marry.” Consequently, her dating life—if one could call it that—had been very limited. There just weren’t a lot of guys out there she’d want to spend the rest of her life with.

  Till now.

  Just the thought of a “happily ever after” with Ryan reminded Taffie of the fairy tale images in that silly movie they’d seen together. Had it really only been a week? Were the people on the screen singing and dancing their way into her heart?

  Taffie eased her way back out into the store, noticing an incoming rush of customers. Could she—should she—really leave her parents alone without help? Her Pop took one look at her and let out a whistle. “You look like a million bucks, kid. That Ryan is one lucky fella.”

  A handful of customers looked at her with curiosity. She drew in a deep breath, then turned her attention to a woman ordering ice cream. As she scooped up a beautiful round ball of Toffee Almond Delight, her thoughts drifted to Ryan. For some reason, she felt like a silly schoolgirl, waiting to see if the boy she had a crush on might look her way.

  Well, nothing wrong with feeling young, right? And it wasn’t like she was given over to flights of fancy, like the girl in that movie. No, she had a good head on her shoulders and was a hard worker, to boot. Rarely thought about things outside of work and church, and certainly never focused on boys. . .er, men.

  Minutes later, just as the clock struck five, Ryan entered the shop. She watched from a distance as his gaze went first to the candy counter. When he didn’t locate her there, he turned toward the ice cream area. The minute their eyes met, Taffie’s breath caught in her throat. She took one look at him in that sharp looking dress shirt and slacks and found herself caught off guard by his looks. He’d been handsome in his work attire, and nice-looking in his jeans and t-shirt that night at the movies, but the sight of him in that blue shirt sent her into a tizzy.

  “Ryan.” She finally managed his name. “I’m nearly ready.” She turned back to a customer, filling the order. All the while, he looked on, his eyes sparkling.

  She finally broke away from the crowd, and turned to her parents with a smile. “I’ll see you guys later. Have fun.”

  “No, you have fun.” Her mother winked, then went back to work.

  Taffie followed Ryan to the door, which he opened for her. After they stepped out onto the crowded boardwalk and took a few steps, he paused for a moment. “Do you mind. . .I mean, would you mind stopping for a minute?”

  She paused, then turned to look at him. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. I just wanted to say” ─his cheeks turned a rosy color─ “that you look wonderful.”

  “Thanks.” Taffie fought to keep the edges of her lips from curling up as she drank in his sweet words. “Pop always says, ‘Powder and paint make a girl what she ain’t.’ It’s amazing what a little lip gloss and mascara can do.”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, it’s not the makeup, though that looks great, too. You’re just like a. . .” He paused for a moment. “A scene from a movie.”

  “Yikes.” She slapped a palm against her forehead. “Romantic comedy or action suspense?”

  He gave her a knowing look, but said nothing.

  “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “You’re going to have to guess.”

  “Well, it had better be action suspense, that’s all I have to say. ’Cause I’ve had just about enough of all that musical comedy stuff.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He slipped his arm around her waist and gently led her through the ever-growing maze of people.

  A few seconds later, as Taffie’s heart danced its way into her throat, they arrived at the restaurant with the words HIGH SEAS above the door. Just one step inside and her senses were overwhelmed with the smell of fried fish and the sound of clinking silverware. She looked around at the fish motif and smiled. “I like this place already. I’m a sucker for a themed restaurant.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” He followed her gaze. “We’ll have to come back with our families. Soon.”

  Is that another date you’re asking me out on, Ryan Antonelli? ’Cause I just might have to say yes.

  As if in response to her ponderings, he flashed a playful smile, then melted her once again with his brown eyes.

  The hostess seated them in short order and left them to review the menu.

  “What looks good to you?” Ryan asked.

  “Mmm. Everything. I skipped lunch today.”

  “Busy day?”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” She felt a wave of joy wash over her as she contemplated the business the shop had done today. “It’s nearing the end of the season, so folks are coming into the shop in droves to buy taffy.” She gave the menu a thorough read. “But I’ve had my fill of sweets. I want some real food.”

  “Lobster?”

  “Mmm. Maybe.” She glanced at the price on the menu and stopped cold, then pointed at something else that caught her interest. “Or maybe something altogether different. I’m a shrimp cocktail fanatic. And salmon. I love salmon.”

  “I love a girl who loves salmon.” Ryan’s cheeks turned red the moment he said the words, but he didn’t take them back. Taffie’s heart swelled with joy. Well, then. I’ll order the salmon.

  The waiter reappeared and they placed their orders. Then, as a goofy love song played overhead, Taff
ie turned her attention away from the food. . .and to the handsome man who sat across the table. What a night this was turning out to be.

  THIRTEEN

  Ryan spent every moment of his time in Taffie’s presence completely relaxed and drawn into her easy conversation. As they ate, they talked about their families, their dreams, and their faith. Specifically, he told her the story of his wandering away from the Lord as a teen—how he’d almost let the most important decision of his life fade to the background as he searched for fulfillment in other ways.

  She responded by telling him about everything she’d gone through during her mother’s cancer struggle. . .primarily, how she’d nearly given up on God.

  “Isn’t it funny. . .or rather, sad, that we claim to have all the faith in the world one day, then plummet the next?” she asked. “I mean, God has done so many wonderful things in my life over the years. He healed my mom, for instance. In spite of my lack of faith. And yet I turn around just a few days—or even hours—later and forget.”

  “I’m the same way.” He paused to think about some of the issues that had arisen after his father’s stroke. “I think I get so self-focused at times. And I’m like you, at least from what I’ve observed so far. I’m a fixer. And not just appliances.” He sighed. “I want to make everything right for everyone.”

  “I hear ya.” She gazed into his eyes and they had a moment of quiet recognition.

  “But we’re not called to fix everything,” Ryan added. “And I’ll be the first to admit I can’t go on much longer taking care of the business for my dad. I don’t mean that out of a lack of respect; it’s just not what I’m called to do.”

  “In some ways, I’m just the opposite,” Taffie explained. “I don’t mind staying at the shop. I’ll work there for the rest of my life. I love the candy making, the people, and all that. But when I look at the whole business end of things. . .” She shuddered. “It stops me cold.”