When they separated, she gazed up at him, still breathless from the kiss. “I miss you already,” she whispered.
He smiled down at her. “Call me.” As he walked over to the door, Brant blew her a kiss and mouthed, “I love you.”
He was out the door and rushing to catch Al’s truck when Marley said, “I love you, too.”
* * *
IT TOOK MARLEY MORE than two hours to get herself back to what she considered normal. Thanks to the cut thread, the dress had come off with ease and now lay in a heap on the bathroom floor. But her hair required several washings to remove all the gunk the hairdresser had sprayed over it. Finally, dressed in yellow pants and a black T-shirt, Marley was ready to face her family.
She lifted the two guitars with annoyance. How could Brant spend so much? Although both instruments had good tone, the rosette around the sound hole on one had begun to deteriorate, and the wood by the bridge on the other had started to warp.
Marley couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t conscious of costs; she’d never spent on a whim. It’s his money, she reminded herself. Still, how could he throw it away like that?
Well, she’d leave the guitars with her grandfather after she played for him. Might as well have as much enjoyment out of them as possible.
If Richard had come to the party, he’d already left, because, thankfully, Marley didn’t see him anywhere as she walked around to the back of the house.
“You brought guitars,” Poppy said joyously when he greeted her. Suddenly the expense didn’t seem that great. He found a folding chair without arms and pulled several other chairs around for the audience that gathered. She handed Poppy the guitar with the nylon strings and began tuning the one with steel. “I’ll play as long as Arthur doesn’t cripple my hands.” He began tuning the guitar.
They played several tunes until requests were tossed at her. “Hey, Marley, how about that Mexican song, you know, the one you and Brant played.” Someone else said, “Yeah, the wedding song.”
“La Bamba,” she noted under her breath. The song was fast and difficult and sounded so much better with a band backing her. And, of course, Brant singing. She sighed and hesitantly started the song. Finishing with a flourish, Marley smiled at her family, who clapped, several offering a standing ovation.
She remembered her discussion with Brant. When would they be together again so they could continue to share their passion for music?
“I’m hungry,” Marley said as she got up, took the other guitar from Poppy and placed both against the wall. “Let’s eat and we can play again later.”
“Don’t think I can join you.” Poppy kneaded his gnarled hands. “Sure hope you don’t get this. It sucks an awful lot of joy out of life.” He put an arm around her shoulders and directed her to the picnic table.
Her mother had prepared a spread for everyone to enjoy. Her exceptional pork ribs in a flavorful sauce, along with several salads, baked beans and other specialties overflowed on one table. The grandchildren devoured hot dogs and hamburgers on another table.
Marley made a plate for herself and joined her sisters under a string of lanterns in the backyard, where the smell of roasted corn on the cob permeated the air. She enjoyed the food and the company, finally able to relax without tension from the wedding or her dealings with Richard.
Poppy sat down next to her. “I really liked last night’s concert with you and your young man.” He nodded several times. “He sure has several talents. He’s an actor, not a rancher?” He looked around. “I don’t see him here. Where’d he take off to?”
“He has work in New York recording a book.” Marley sighed. “It might be a while before I see him again.”
Poppy chucked her chin. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head. He’s a keeper.” He got up and went back into the house, taking both guitars with him.
People mingled, and Chloe patted an empty folding chair beside her and invited Marley to join her.
“Feeling better?” Marley asked. For the first time she realized that one day she could be pregnant, too. The possibility made her smile broaden with expectation.
“Yes. I finally feel human.”
“Did Al get Brant safely to the airport?”
Chloe nodded. “I’m afraid all your secrets are out. Brant asked a million questions about you, and Al—”
“Did I hear my name mentioned?” Al edged an empty chair closer to them and joined the circle. “How long have you two known each other?” he asked Marley. “Brant was clueless.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you and I were lovers and—”
Marley whacked him in the arm and nearly upset his plate of food. Al chortled. “I told him how you and I dated in high school. But,” Al said, leaning closer to Chloe, “your sister had a thing for me, so I dropped the redheaded beauty for this blonde bombshell and married her.” He gave Chloe a quick kiss then picked up his roasted corn.
Marley glanced up as her mother approached, followed closely by her father. “You missed my little speech,” Nora said, reaching back to take Red’s hand. “We’re getting married.”
“I couldn’t stay because I was sick. Lost that entire meal.”
“Good. Then when you have your wedding, you’ll let me do the catering.” Nora smiled, obviously forgiving Marley for being absent during the announcement. It dawned on Marley that her mother, for that matter all her relatives, had no clue that she was no longer engaged. Just as well, since Marley had decided to tell Brant, yes, she would marry him, the next time he mentioned marriage. “Maybe we could make it a double,” Nora said.
Marley grabbed her stomach, feeling the roasted corn and spicy spareribs begin to rise. She sat back in her chair and forced herself to swallow the bile. “No, Mom, Brant and I have other plans. We intend to elope—to Las Vegas.”
“Vegas! That sounds like fun,” Red said, putting an arm around Nora’s shoulder and pulling her close. “Maybe we should do that, darling. What do you think?”
Marley stood quickly, upsetting the chair, and headed for some privacy behind the garage, where she lost her second meal of the day.
* * *
THE MONDAY AFTER Marley arrived in Phoenix, she returned to her job—following a quick visit to her hairdresser. Her hair now brushed her shoulders in a state of relaxed curl, the tightness and frizziness she had endured in Pennsylvania gone. Dressed in a cool summer dress of pale green, she met Dede for supper.
“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” Dede said as Marley joined her in the Arizona Center. Dede wore her black hair in a French braid intertwined with red ribbons that matched her red dress. “And don’t you dare leave anything out.” She inspected Marley’s hand. “Where’s your ring?”
“I returned it during lunch.” Marley held up her hand to silence Dede and motioned to the waiter. “I’d like a virgin Mary, please.”
“Since when are you off the sauce?” Dede glanced at the wine in her glass before taking a sip.
“The last week was an eye-opener. I will never risk getting even a bit tipsy. It’s moderation from now on.”
“So the store took back your fake ring?”
“No, I still have that tucked in the back of my jewelry box. I returned the five-thousand-dollar one Brant put on his credit card.”
Dede reached across the table and grasped Marley’s hands. “He bought you a five-thousand-dollar ring?” After Marley explained about the mix-up, Dede said, “Brant wanted you to keep the five-thousand-dollar ring, and you refused! Are you insane?”
“Oh, Dede, there’s so much more. I’m absolutely crazy about him and—”
“This is the same guy you wanted nothing, I repeat nothing, to do with when we made up that engagement. What was it, ten days ago?”
Marley explained briefly, hitting only the highlig
hts. “Because he’s an actor, I couldn’t take him seriously at first. But...” Marley smiled and caught her upper lip between her teeth. “He’s wonderful. He wants to marry me. And I plan to marry him.”
“Whoa.” Dede held up a hand before reaching for her black cloth purse. She removed an iPad and turned it on. “That’s right. He said he was an actor. What’s his full name?”
Marley’s brow furrowed. “Don’t do that. Brant told me not to look him up on the internet.”
“What’s he hiding? Come on. Full name. Brant...?”
With a deep sigh, Marley said, “Brant Westfield.” She sat back, looking at the virgin Mary she had ordered and considered ordering some vodka to add to it.
“Mes Dios!” Dede shouted and positioned the iPad so that Marley could see. “Half a million hits. Did you know he’s been acting on some pretty popular TV shows? Dramas and late night talk shows?”
Marley covered the iPad with her napkin. “Don’t say another word, Dede. No more.” She used a shooing motion to indicate she wanted the iPad put away.
Marley and Dede placed their order before Marley continued, “I haven’t told you everything that happened with Richard Brewster.” After she explained about Richard and recounted the events at the wedding, Dede appeared intrigued.
“So this gorgeous guy you turned down is available? How about introducing us?”
Marley laughed. “Sure. Next time I see him, I’ll mention you want to meet him.” After a long pause, Marley added, “My father was there.”
“Right. How did that go?”
Marley sighed. “My parents are getting married again.”
Dede seemed unsure how to respond. Finally, she said, “How are you handling it? I know you’ve had issues with him.”
“Not well.” Their food arrived and Marley dived into her Cobb salad. “I just don’t want my mother hurt again.”
By the time they left the restaurant, the evening had turned cool. Lightning flashed in the distance, and they hoped to get home before the summer monsoon drenched them both. Boarding the light-rail, Dede said, “You and Mr. Wonderful keeping in touch?”
“As much as possible. He has to concentrate on the book he’s recording.”
“I want more details, girlfriend. Call me tomorrow.”
Marley was running through raindrops when her cell phone rang. She ducked under the awning at her condo building to take the call. “Let me phone you back,” she said to Brant. “It’s lightning here.” Minutes later she called him from her condo.
“Hi, how’s your work going?”
“I finished reading the book, excellent by the way, and hope to start recording once I go over what needs to be done with the producer tomorrow. And the author, my friend from college, is in town. We plan to get together.” He paused. “You got home safely?”
“Yes. Al drove me to the airport. I understand you had quite a talk with him when he took you there.”
“Oh, yes. One of your many beaus.” Brant paused. “I have a question for you.”
“What?”
“You’re the oldest, right? And Chloe is next? What’s the age difference between you two?”
“Five years.”
“Hmm. I’ve been doing the math. If you and he were seventeen and eighteen in high school—”
Marley burst out laughing. “Chloe was thirteen and Al was eighteen. She had crushes on every guy I ever dated.”
“Al said she chased after him. Please erase these images that have plagued me since he told me that—Al with this girl barely into puberty.”
“Nothing happened between them at that time, although my sister was persistent. He joined the army, probably to get away from her. Chloe started writing to him. She was seventeen when they finally began dating, and they were married the moment she turned eighteen. Is that better?”
“Yes. Thank you. Now the other subject that’s haunted me. Any more run-ins with Richard?”
“No. Didn’t see him again. But, Dede, you remember her?”
“Of course. The woman who got the ball rolling.”
“She wants to meet him.”
Brant burst out laughing. “Fine, as long he’s nowhere near you.”
“I had supper with her tonight and...”
“And?”
“She went on the internet and looked you up.” Marley heard a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t let her tell me what was there. I’d rather you tell me next time—”
“Marley, speak to my sisters. I’ll contact Elaina. She comes to Phoenix on a regular basis, and she can tell you anything you want to know. A lot of what’s out there is horse manure, and she can fill you in on what’s real and what’s not.” They spoke a little longer before Brant said, “I better go. It’s really late here and I’m exhausted. I love you, woman. Dream of me tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
PHONE CALLS BETWEEN Marley and Brant were irregular. She could tell he was stressed, and, not wanting to add to it, she kept her own tensions under wrap. And there were many, all of them involving her mother and her parents’ forthcoming marriage.
“We’ve decided on doing it quickly and settled on the second Saturday in August,” Nora said when she called. “I want all my girls in the wedding, with you as my maid of honor. Everyone can pick their favorite dress from past weddings.” Her mother actually sounded giddy when she added, “Of course, I won’t wear white. But I thought maybe cream. What do you think?”
When had Marley become her mother’s best friend? Nora asked for advice on who to invite, what menu to plan and how to word the invitation. “We don’t want gifts, but an RSVP would be nice, don’t you think? Your father contacted Pastor Williams, so the church service is arranged.”
Marley spent the days in a funk. When her phone rang, she hesitated to answer it, attempting to avoid calls from her family. But what if Brant called? Why couldn’t she make her family understand her parents’ wedding was not something she wanted to participate in? She didn’t want to know the details or be part of it, yet when she tried to distance herself, her mother said, “But, Marley. You’re so good at this. And I really need some help.” Each time Marley received one of the calls, she felt sick. Not to the point of losing her lunch, but her unease rankled her nerves. She spent hours strumming her guitar just to calm herself.
Marley took care of what she could long distance, giving advice and using the internet and her phone. Ever the planner, the handler of all family dilemmas, she longed for someone else to take on the responsibilities. At least this would be the last time she’d have to make wedding arrangements for anyone in her family. Her own wedding...
Marley didn’t pursue the thought. Nothing in Brant’s phone calls or brief text messages indicated he still wanted to marry her. And even those calls had dried up during the past week. She longed to hear his voice, but instead had to settle for short text messages.
* * *
ONE EVENING, THE A STRING on Marley’s guitar broke. She was restringing it when the doorbell rang. Not the intercom bell in the lobby, but the bell in her hallway. Who could that be after ten o’clock? she wondered. Although she had become friendly with several people in the building, they rarely visited so late at night. Marley checked the peephole. All she saw was black hair.
“Who is it?” she asked.
A woman tossed long black hair away from her face. “Elaina. Brant’s sister.”
When Marley opened the door, Elaina said, “Sorry it’s so late, but I just got out from the theater, and I’ll be leaving early tomorrow. Brant asked me—”
“Come in,” Marley said, stepping aside so Elaina could enter her living room.
Elaina walked in, circled the room slowly and faced Marley with a grin that resembled Brant’s. “I love it!” she said. She threw open her arms and wrapped them ar
ound Marley.
“What?” Marley said, when she could step away from the embrace. “What do you love?” Marley looked around at the furniture she’d purchased after hours of plundering used furniture stores. Most of it had served several apartments during her twelve years in Phoenix until she could afford to buy the condo. The fine art on the walls were framed children’s drawings done by her nieces and nephews. The room had a comfortable rural quality that she enjoyed, right down to the knitting basket by the rocking chair. Some might consider her interior decorating eclectic, especially where she mixed Native American baskets with heirloom quilts, but Marley considered the place home.
Elaina grabbed her hand and pulled Marley toward the hall. “Come with me. You’ve got to see Brant’s place.” Marley followed her into the hall and waited while Elaina unlocked Brant’s door. After opening it, Elaina stood aside and gestured toward the huge room. It had to be three times the size of Marley’s living room. Nothing decorated the walls. Nor were there any curtains or blinds on the windows. A guitar and a banjo stood next to a grand piano, and an assortment of black instrument cases sat on the floor. Except for the piano bench, several folding chairs and a card table, the white-walled room lacked furniture and any kind of personal touch.
“On to his bedroom,” Elaina said, waving a hand toward another room. Besides a single bed, neatly made, the room had two walls lined with bookcases Marley had seen at IKEA, something she’d considered investing in herself. Although Brant’s had a decent supply of books, most of the shelves contained CDs and DVDs. Nowhere did Marley see any electronic gizmos that might make any of these items workable.
With a flourish, Elaina pushed open a set of double doors. There in a walk-in closet, nearly the size of Marley’s bedroom, sat a desk, computer and file cabinets. The wall on the right formed the backdrop for a lot of electronic equipment; the center wall behind the desk was covered by a huge TV screen; and a very small area on the left wall had a built-in dresser as well as a door to a bathroom. A selection of clothes and garment bags filled the only spot that still remained a closet. At least Brant did have some clothes besides the Goodwill collection she’d seen him in.
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