An Act of Love

by Marion Ekholm

  Marley stood with her back to him, her hands by her sides, while she listened to him play. Finally she sighed. “Okay, Brant. You’re going to put Michelle on one of the beds.”

  The guitar made a sickening sound as he tossed it on the sofa. In seconds, he was carrying Michelle back to the bedroom.

  Once he had Michelle on one of the queen beds, he dimmed the lights. Marley helped get the little girl changed into her pj’s, and Michelle slept peacefully through it all. When she was finally settled, Marley drew out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from her luggage and headed for the bathroom to change. When she emerged, Brant was already in his khaki shorts and sandals with his shirt sleeves rolled above the elbow.

  “Do you prefer nylon strings or steel?” He held the two guitars out to her.

  Marley glanced over at her niece. “We might wake her.”

  Brant directed her to the sofa and closed the bedroom door enough so that the light wouldn’t disturb Michelle. “If she’s like my nieces and nephews, she can sleep through a rock concert.”

  Marley accepted the guitar with nylon strings. “Is that what we’re going to have here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Once settled on the sofa, the two of them tuned their instruments. And they played. For the next few hours, they improvised, each delighting in the music they were creating.

  “Oh, my God,” Marley said when she noticed the time. “I’ve got to be at the beauty parlor to get ready for the wedding in—” she looked at Brant “—five hours. I’ll never get enough sleep.”

  He stood and stretched, then turned to help her to her feet. “Whew. That could destroy our backs. Next time we get something with less give.” He picked up their guitars and placed them on the chair.

  Marley walked over to where Michelle slept. Before she could place a knee on the bed, Brant grasped her shoulders and directed her to the other bed. “You’ll never get any sleep with Michelle.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Where are you sleeping?”

  “The sofa pulls out into a bed.” He shrugged. “Aren’t you glad I got the suite?”

  “You had no idea when you requested it that you’d need the couch.”

  He came over to her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips against her neck. “True. But if you don’t tell me how grateful you are that I got it...”

  She turned in his arms. “I’m totally grateful. It was a thoughtful, generous—”

  He stamped her lips with a quick kiss and headed for the living room. “Sleep well.”

  * * *

  SHE AWOKE TO grunts and screams emanating from the living room. Marley rose on her elbow and looked at Michelle’s bed. It was empty. She scurried to the living room, to see Michelle giggling and kicking, while Brant dangled her above him. He put her down and began tickling the squirming child. “Do you know what she did? Nearly poked my eye out.” He continued to tickle, laughing as hard as Michelle.

  Brant pushed himself up and gazed at Marley. “You sleep well?”

  “Yes.”

  He turned to Michelle, who was looking at him with love and trust. “I did, too, until this monster started poking me.” He began tickling her again.

  Marley grabbed her niece and headed for the bathroom. “We have first dibs.” She glanced back at him; he’d already lain down on his stomach and gone back to sleep.

  She faced her niece. “Let’s get ready as fast as we can so Uncle Brant can use the bathroom.” Al had included Michelle’s toothbrush with her things. Marley placed toothpaste on their brushes from a small tube Brant must have provided, because it wasn’t her brand.

  Marley sighed. She’d really miss this little girl once she returned to Phoenix.

  They’d taken quite a bit of time, enough so that Brant knocked on the door. “Come on, girls. It’s my turn.” Once the door was open, he picked Michelle up and stood her on the rug outside the bathroom.

  Marley quickly put on the dress she’d worn the night before so she could leave it when she changed at her mother’s. All the extras she required, including the underwear and shoes were already there. She helped Michelle into the extra clothes Al had provided the previous night.

  “You decent? I’m coming out.”

  Marley was busily folding her clothes and repacking her suitcase when Brant came over. He took her in his arms and rubbed his newly shaved face against her cheek. “You like?” His breath smelled minty fresh from the same toothpaste they had used.

  She caressed his chin and murmured, “Yes.”

  She was about to kiss him, when someone knocked on the door. Marley caught her breath when Brant tensed. “It better not be Richard.”

  Still gripping Brant so he couldn’t get past her, Marley shouted, “Who is it?”

  “Al. I’m here for my daughter, and I have Brant’s pants for the wedding.”

  Brant broke away from her and stopped at the door. He pulled it open and stood on his toes to look around Al. “You alone?”

  “Yeah. Who else did you expect at this hour?”

  Brant tugged him into the room. “Richard. He has a habit of showing up. Can’t get it through his pea brain that Marley’s off-limits.”

  Al chuckled. “He’s probably the one who got you the wrong pants. Here. These should fit.” He turned to his daughter, who ran into his arms. “You have a fun time with Aunt Marley and Uncle Brant?” Michelle pressed her face shyly into her father’s neck.

  Brant walked over to Marley and placed his arm around her, then faced Al. “Your daughter’s adorable.” He pressed a kiss against Marley’s forehead. “I want to get started with Marley as soon as possible so we can have our own brood.” Marley glanced at him. He what? She struggled to get out of his hold.

  Brant drew Marley tighter against him, so she had no way to extricate herself.

  With another chuckle, Al headed out the door.

  Marley moved, trying to get out of Brant’s clutch. “You need the child’s seat from the car,” she called.

  “Got another one in the truck. See you at the wedding.”

  The door closed and the two of them stood hip to hip. “Let’s get one thing straight, Brant. I haven’t said yes to your proposal.” She pushed away and started for the door. “I have to meet my sisters.”

  “No.” Unexpectedly, he swung Marley into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He plopped her in the center of the bed, then dropped down beside her.

  She tried to sit up, but she gave up when she realized it was useless. “What gave you the idea I’d be interested in marrying you, especially after yesterday morning? When I left here, I was livid.”

  “Oh, I knew you were angry.” He stretched out alongside her, caressing her face. “But you slammed the door.” He paused. “Twice.” Brant reached over for a strip of her hair and curled it around his finger. “It showed me you cared.” He brushed her hair away. “And something else.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “I saw you avoid Richard’s kiss before the bachelor party. I knew then my chances had improved.”

  Marley studied him. Who could stay angry with him? And he couldn’t possibly be serious.

  “I plan to do everything I can to prove my good intentions.”

  “Which won’t be now, because I have to get ready for that wedding.”

  She got up, and he didn’t try to stop her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  BRANT FOLLOWED HER to the door and slipped into his sandals. “Have we got enough time for breakfast?”

  “Sure, but we need something fast. Let’s head to the restaurant we went to the other day unless you have another suggestion.” She’d tied her hair back in a voluminous ponytail.

  “Nope. Loved their coffee.” He rolled the sleeves down on the shirt he’d worn to bed, not having changed a
fter their guitar concert.

  Once in the car, Marley asked, “Do you cook?” Weeks seemed to have passed since Richard had made her breakfast.

  “Don’t cook, but I’ll do the dishes if someone else prepares it.”

  “How do you eat?”

  “Usually with a knife and fork, but I’m pretty good with chopsticks.”

  She swatted his arm. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Brant rubbed his arm where she’d tapped him. “Mostly takeout. Phoenix has some wonderful restaurants, and I’m good with a grill. What about you?”

  “I can cook.”

  “Why do I feel there’s a but?”

  “Have you seen my mother’s kitchen?”

  “No, we snuck out, remember?”

  “My grandmother and mother ran a catering business. Mom still does. We nearly had to break her arm to keep her from doing this wedding. She wears herself out and everyone else.” Marley paused and glanced Brant’s way. “From the time I was old enough to hold a knife, I’ve been helping with the cooking. My sisters still do. College opened more opportunities than an education for me. It got me out of the kitchen.”

  “So I shouldn’t put my hopes on a home-cooked meal?”

  Marley turned into the restaurant parking lot and stopped the car. “I don’t know. If you continue to behave, I might surprise you with one of my specialties.”

  “I love surprises.” His expression sobered and he stared out the window. Turning back to her, he said, “I’ve seen your house, bits of it anyway. It’s huge. And it sits on what looks like several acres.”

  “The house is my grandfather’s. Come on—let’s get that coffee.”

  “Is it a sore subject?” Brant asked when they were seated in the restaurant.

  Marley shook her head and continued to sip her coffee.

  “I met your grandfather. He’s about the same age as mine.” Brant ate a little of the breakfast he’d ordered, while Marley scooped out her yogurt. “My family’s lived with my father’s parents all my life, in a house half that size. My sisters shared a room no bigger than Lindy’s, and it didn’t come with its own bathroom. The four of us had to share one, which can get sticky with three sisters.” He sat back, holding a plastic fork and regarded her.

  Marley had an image of him dealing with sisters. She finished her yogurt and put the container aside. “Before my grandfather made additions, we all lived on the second floor. Until I was born, my parents lived in what eventually became Lindy’s room. Poppy and my nana shared another room and, eventually, I got the third bedroom with the open area for my playroom.”

  Brant began pouring syrup over his pancakes. “I’ll bet you were terribly spoiled.”

  “I was.” She took a sip of coffee. “Five years later, when my mother got pregnant again, Poppy built one of the additions for him and Nana so our family took over the entire floor. By the time there were six of us girls, Poppy built another addition for my parents.”

  “Your Poppy’s a pretty good handyman and definitely not poor.”

  “True.” She looked up gratefully, as one of the cashiers came over to refill her cup. “Things began to fall apart when I was about twelve. The fighting was nonstop, not just between my parents but also between my father and Poppy. They’ve obviously arrived at some understanding because my dad’s now staying with him.”

  “All that fighting had to be devastating for you and your sisters.”

  “You can’t imagine how much I wanted to get away.” She looked up at Brant while she gripped her cup. “When my grandmother got sick, my mother took over the catering business. There were no extras and Poppy had a mountain of bills for Nana’s medical expenses.”

  “That’s when you started dancing?”

  Marley nodded. “Because I spent so much time at the parties and weddings my mother catered, I often danced with her customers. People began asking me to teach them so they could dance at their weddings. One thing led to another, and it helped me pay expenses.”

  “You’re an amazing woman, and I love that you’re into dancing. It’s one of my personal passions,” Brant said, reaching across the table to take her hand. He held it for a moment before releasing it and reaching for his phone. “I want to clear something up.” He flicked his finger over the phone’s surface and handed it to her. “Are these the ladies you saw sneaking out of my condo early in the morning?”

  Marley sucked in her breath, but didn’t say anything. “They may do it again sometime. They’re my sisters—not my dates. They often drive into town to shop or see a show. The ranch is too far to travel back to late at night, so they use my guest room.”

  He put the phone on the table, removed the cup from her hand and held both her hands in his. “I am committed to you, Marley. Only you, from this day forward. I will never be like your father.”

  Marley compressed her lips and nodded, too emotional to express her gratitude.

  Brant’s phone began to vibrate, inching slowly across the table. He grasped it with one hand, still holding on to Marley with the other. “It’s Carla, my manager,” he said, glancing at the phone.

  Oh, so that’s who Carla is. The name had plagued her since he’d first called her it.

  “Pick me up when you’re heading to the church.” They both rose, and he drew her to him. “I can walk back to the motel from here.” After a brief kiss, he sat down again and answered his phone.

  Burning with curiosity, Marley retreated to her car. She wanted to know why his manager had called, and why Brant hadn’t shared the information with her. Another play, maybe another movie. How would any of that affect them and his proposal of marriage?

  * * *

  “WE’RE DOING IT MY WAY!” Lindy paced the beauty salon, her blond hair in rollers. “This is my wedding. I want it to be different, and for a few hours you can all put up with it.” She plopped down and yanked a dryer over her head.

  Marley sat in one of the chairs in front of the mirror, watching the beautician, Tristan, pull curls to the back of her head. Each section received a hairpin and a squirt of hairspray. Marley placed a hand over her nose to avoid the fumes. When would this nightmare end?

  “You are going to be absolutely lovely.” The huge mass of curls was pinned in place, with no possibility of moving, thanks to the can of hairspray that had turned her hair into a solid cone.

  Marley glanced at Chloe, who sat to her left, holding her hand over her nose, as well. Marley waved Tristan away when she reached for another can. “That’s enough spray.” Chloe obviously couldn’t tolerate the smell, and she looked as though she might be sick.

  “This is the final one, a specialty for the maid of honor.” With that announcement, Tristan squirted silver sparkles onto the immovable hair.

  Marley raised a hand. “Stop!” The sparkles fell on her hand and arm as well as her hair. She turned to Lindy, who had her nose in a magazine. “Lindy!” Her sister ignored her. Marley glanced at Chloe, who reached in her purse and extracted a package of crackers. She’d been eating them since they’d arrived.

  Marley got out of the seat and walked over to Lindy while Tristan continued to follow her, squirting more sparkles into her hair. Stopping in front of her sister, Marley raised both hands to deflect the spray. “Tristan, stop that or you’ll be minus a tip.” The spraying stopped.

  Since Lindy still ignored her, Marley tugged the magazine from her hands. “You’ve got to stop this nonsense. There’s no reason all of us should be miserable just so you can have your own way.” Marley had avoided the fake nails Lindy had insisted she needed. At least her sister had relented enough that they all had red nails instead of black.

  Marley viewed her other sisters, who were covered in colorful plastic shawls. Each one looked ready to boil. Jen, Franny and Morgan directed dagger eyes at Lindy. How could Marley keep th
e situation from escalating into a catfight?

  Chloe got up from her chair, removed her shawl and walked over to Marley. “You’re not going to give us this much trouble, are you, when you get married?”

  Visions of Vegas popped into her mind, and Marley slowly shook her head. The stiff hairdo felt weird, and she stopped the motion. “Absolutely no chance. No one will have to suffer through my wedding.”

  Her sisters heard her and a spontaneous “Yay!” arose from each one.

  * * *

  MARLEY STOOD OUTSIDE the motel door and debated whether she should warn Brant. What kind of reaction could she expect? No way did she want to go public, let alone stand before a church audience, looking this way.

  When he opened the door after her knock, it took him a while to focus. When he did, he stepped back and nearly tripped over the chair. “What the...?”

  She walked in and closed the door. “What is this?” he asked as he began circling her. Marley stood patiently in the black strapless cocktail dress that ended at her knees. Knees covered in black mesh stockings.

  “Black? Aren’t you supposed to be in frilly frou-frous in a rainbow of color?”

  “Lindy wanted a black-and-white wedding. She and Denny are in white, and, against Lindy’s objections, Mom is wearing the same pink dress she wore to the last wedding. She only wears black to funerals.” When Brant continued to stare, she added, “And don’t you dare say anything about my hair.”

  Brant glanced up, then gripped his thumb knuckle between his teeth, looking ready to laugh. But he appeared to gain control, possibly something he’d learned in acting school. “Can I touch it?” He made a tentative motion toward her hair, then pulled back. “It looks...solid, like petrified pink cotton candy,” he said, then pressed his lips together.

  “Oh, go ahead and laugh.” He turned away, his shoulders shaking. “The beautician used a whole can of hairspray to keep it pinned in place. Chloe and I could have died from asthma attacks.” Marley started to chuckle. “Then she added silver dust so my hair would sparkle. It’ll take me a week to get all this gunk out of my hair. If only I could have brought my own hairdresser from Phoenix.”