That Man of Mine

by Maria Geraci

  “Smart lady,” he said. “But I have the feeling that if anyone can get Billy Brenton to Whispering Bay, it’ll be you.”

  There he went again. Giving her way too much credit before she’d even accomplished anything. “That’s an awful lot of confidence in someone you hardly know. Like I said, even if by some miracle I could get him to come do a concert, there’s no money in the festival budget to pay him.”

  Doug shifted around in his chair. “I’ll tell you what. If you can convince Billy Brenton to come play in Whispering Bay, I’ll try to figure out a way to squeeze the money out of the city budget for him.”

  Mimi snapped to full attention. “We can do that?”

  “Why not? Remember, what’s good for the festival is good for the city. The mayor and the city manager should be partners. Don’t you think?”

  Mimi thought about what Doug was saying. It’s true that they both wanted what was good for Whispering Bay. And Doug was no fool. He’d been wildly successful in his previous job. If she should be listening to advice from anyone, it should be him.

  “You know, I have an old friend who works at the Leon County Civic Center in Tallahassee,” Mimi said. “Billy will be playing there the night before the festival. Maybe I can reach him through her.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Doug raised his beer glass. “To getting Billy Brenton and making this year’s festival the best ever!”

  Although Mimi’s glass was empty, she still clinked mugs with him.

  Mimi sat on her living room couch. Tears streamed down her face and dripped into her bowl of popcorn. If only Ilsa would suck it up and tell Rick the truth, then he couldn’t still hate her. She was married to Victor Laszlo, for goodness’s sake, and it was up to him and his freedom fighters to keep Hitler out of Europe (although we all know how that ended). No matter how many times she watched Casablanca she always hated that look in Rick’s eyes, that mixture of hurt and anger that came from thinking the one person you loved most in the world had betrayed you.

  The familiar sound of Zeke’s police car pulling up in the driveway caught her attention. Toby, sensing her momentary distraction took advantage and snuck his head into the bowl of popcorn and slurped up a mouthful. Yuck. Did he leave doggie drool in her bowl? No matter, she was stuffed. No more popcorn for her. She was still full from the burger and fries she’d scarfed down earlier.

  The door opened and Zeke and the kids walked in. Cameron immediately ran to Toby’s side and dug his face up against his fur. “Hey, boy, did you miss me?”

  Mimi grabbed a napkin just in time to catch a long stream of drool. Most dogs wagged their tails when they were happy. Not Toby. He had other skills to show his affection. Mimi’s damp floors were proof of that.

  Claire plopped herself down on the other end of the couch. “Casablanca? Again? How can you stand to see something that’s not in color?”

  “Don’t get your mom started,” Zeke said. He stood with his hands in his pants pockets like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was welcome to stay. How awkward was that when this was his own house?

  “Did you get to ride in the patrol car?” Mimi asked Cameron.

  “Yeah, it was pretty cool.”

  “I’ve got homework to catch up on so I’m going to my room,” Claire announced.

  “On a Friday night?” Mimi glanced at Zeke who shrugged in response. It shouldn’t bother her that Claire was doing homework. As a matter of fact, she should embrace it. It just seemed strange.

  “Yes, on a Friday night. Tomorrow’s the big basketball game and I have to be at the gym early and I want to get it finished.”

  “Can Toby sleep with me?” Cameron asked, already pulling the dog off the couch. Toby eyed the rest of the popcorn with regret, but he took off eagerly behind Cameron.

  “Only if you wash your sheets tomorrow,” Mimi called out.

  With Claire and Cameron tucked away in their rooms it left her alone in the living room with Zeke. “How was your night?” she asked.

  “It was good.”

  “Did you and Tom get a chance to talk wedding plans?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You should take him out for a beer. After all, in a few months he’s going to be your brother-in-law, and hopefully one day soon, he’ll be the father to Allie’s kids.”

  Zeke made a resigned face.

  “There’s beer in the fridge,” Mimi offered. “If you want to stay a little bit.”

  “No beer for me, thanks. But I’ll stay. Maybe watch the end of the movie with you?” He sat down next to her and automatically reached his hand into the popcorn bowl.

  “Um, I wouldn’t if I were you,” Mimi said, trying not to laugh.

  Zeke stared down at the popcorn. “Let me guess, Toby baptized the bowl?”

  “Your detective skills amaze me.”

  “Next time we go to the pound for a dog, we specify no drooling.” He sounded confident that there would be a next time. He dumped the popcorn from his hand back into the bowl and took it into the kitchen.

  Mimi watched him as he came strolling back toward her. He wore jeans and a light blue button down oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled back, exposing his forearms. He sat down on the couch again, only this time he sat a little closer and Mimi caught a whiff of cologne. Zeke wasn’t normally a cologne wearing kind of guy, so when he did splash a little on, she always took notice.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have had those two glasses of wine along with the popcorn. And maybe she shouldn’t be watching Casablanca, because all she could think about right now was the way her blood had taken up speed, like it was racing through her veins, trying like hell to get to some unknown destination. Okay, so she knew what this feeling was. She was horny. She was a thirty-five-year-old red-blooded woman and she hadn’t had sex in over three months and here she was sitting on a couch next to her husband. Her very sexy husband. Why not let nature take its course?

  It was legal.

  It was natural.

  But was it a good idea?

  Probably not. If they had sex then Zeke would assume all their problems were solved. Sex had always been a way for them to connect with one another. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but there had to be other ways, too.

  They watched T.V., sitting side by side but she was having trouble concentrating. How could she pay attention to Humphrey Bogart when Zeke Grant was just a few inches away from her?

  “So how was Burger World?” he asked casually.

  “I was wondering if Rusty told you,” Mimi said. Not that she was surprised. She only wondered what had taken him so long to bring it up.

  “Mac Haines texted me, too,” Zeke said. “Just in case someone else on Team Zeke hadn’t already filled me in.” He glanced at her. “So, this Wentworth guy, he’s helping you out?”

  “He’s teaching me about the budget. So yeah, he’s been pretty helpful.”

  Zeke nodded. Which Mimi took as encouragement, so she went on. “He thinks I should go after Billy Brenton for the Spring Into Summer festival.”

  “You told him about that, huh?”

  She stilled. “Did I tell you about that, too?” When did she tell him— “The night of drunken Bunco.” It still bothered her that she couldn’t remember everything that had happened on their ride home. “What else did I tell you?”

  “That the only reason you married me was because I was incredibly hot and you wanted to jump my bones.”

  “Ha! Right.” She would never say that! Would she?

  He smiled in a way that made her suddenly want to fan herself.

  “So, I know the festival is just three months away, and the whole thing is probably impossible, but I feel like I should give it a shot.”

  “What’s the status on it?” he asked.

  She hesitated to tell him, since the status was practically at minus zero. “I’ve called and emailed, and I have a message in to his assistant, Crystal. Bruce actually gave me her number.”

  Zeke stared at her. “Br
uce Bailey is helping you with this?”

  “Not helping exactly, but he did give up his information. Look, I know it’s a longshot, but Billy Brenton is giving a concert in Tallahassee two nights before the festival so he’ll already be in the area. I know it sounds crazy but it just might work. The festival is in financial trouble. It needs a big kick in the rear end to give it a lift and I think Billy Brenton is just the guy to do it.”

  “If the festival is in financial trouble, then how are you going to pay this guy? Or is he going to do a concert for free? The last time I looked the city wasn’t exactly a charitable organization.”

  “Doug said he might be able to swing Billy’s fee from the city budget.”

  Zeke laughed. Not a funny laugh. But a nasty one that put Mimi’s spine on edge. “The guy who won’t approve two new police cars for the city wants to give you money for some country western star?” He shook his head. “I didn’t think you were that gullible, Mimi.”

  She yanked her legs off the coffee table to sit up straight. “Just because Doug doesn’t want to give you money for cars doesn’t mean his offer isn’t legit. Getting Billy Brenton to play at the festival is an investment in this city.”

  “How so?”

  “The festival has been losing money for the past ten years. But if we can build it back up again to what it once was, it’s going to be good for the whole town. Every small business that advertises or sells its products at the festival is going to see some benefit.”

  “I don’t trust the guy.”

  “That’s because you’re—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “You think I’m jealous because that bozo took you to Burger World?”

  The incredulous way in which he said that made her eyes narrow. “Maybe you should be jealous,” she countered.

  His gaze honed in on her mouth and for a second, Mimi thought he was going to kiss her. The pathetic thing was that as angry as she was with him right now, she’d let him. She’d let him do a lot more than just kiss her, too. Why was she fighting it? Zeke was never going to change. Their marriage had always been good enough the way it was. But for some reason, good enough, just wasn’t enough anymore.

  “I’m tired, Zeke, and I don’t want to fight.”

  “I can think of something a whole lot better to do than fighting.” The huskiness in his voice sent a tingle down her spine. Did he know how close she was to doing him right here on this couch?

  “Me too, but that’s not going to happen tonight.”

  He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “Have you thought about what I said? About going back to counseling?”

  “Yes…and I think…okay, let’s try again.”

  His dark eyes softened. “You won’t be sorry, Mimi. Whatever it is that’s going on here, I can fix it. If you’ll let me.”

  *~*~*

  Rusty’s cousin’s cabin was a lot more comfortable than Zeke had thought it would be. There was a small living area with a couch and a T.V and a bedroom with a queen-sized mattress that didn’t hurt his lower back. It was clean and there was a decent working kitchen, although the only thing he’d used it for was to make coffee. The hot water in the shower only lasted a couple of minutes, but he was okay with that. The real downfall was that there was no air-conditioning, which currently wasn’t a problem since it was early March. But in two months this place was going to be a sauna. He needed to expedite his return home. Now that Mimi had agreed to go back to counseling, he’d call to set up an appointment himself if he had to. Which, come to think of, wasn’t a bad idea. It would show her how committed he was to the whole process.

  It had been hard leaving her tonight. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to not scoop her off that couch and carry her into the bedroom. It had been almost four months since he’d made love to his wife. He’d be a candidate for sainthood by the time this whole thing was resolved.

  His cell phone rang. It was Jerry Bower’s first night as the officer on duty and Zeke had told him to call with any questions he might have. But it wasn’t Jerry’s number that popped up on his screen.

  Son of a bitch.

  He should reject it. It’s what he’d done the past four times the bastard had called, but obviously he wasn’t getting the message, so Zeke was just going to have to make it crystal clear for him.

  “What do you want?” he answered.

  “Zeke? Is that you?” It was the same voice he remembered as a kid. The same voice that had read him The Three Little Pigs. The same voice that had cracked with pain when he told him his mother had died. And the same voice that told him eighteen years ago that he was sorry, but he couldn’t help him with Buela or Allie. Of course, he’d been fucking drunk at the time, but what else was new?

  “Yeah, it’s me. Like I said, what do you want?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation on the other line. “I want to see you, son.”

  “Well I don’t want to see you. I’d think that by now you’d have gotten that message.”

  “You have every right to be bitter. I deserve your contempt. But…I saw a picture of Allison in the paper this morning and—”

  “Her name’s Allie, and how in God Damn Hell did you get the paper? Are you here in town? What? Are you stalking us? Because so help me I’ll get a restraining order on you so fast it will make your head spin.”

  “Calm down, Zeke, I’m not out to hurt anyone. I just…I just want to know my kids.”

  “You’re twenty-four years too late for that. Don’t call this number again. Got it?”

  Before Sam Grant could say anything else, Zeke hung up.

  It was the second Saturday in March and the wedding clock was ticking. Mimi could practically hear it in her ear, tick-tock, tick-tock… She didn’t know who was more stressed out—her or Allie. Probably her. For the most part Allie seemed as cool as the proverbial cucumber, while Mimi, well, she was the exact opposite. Most days she felt like a lizard whose tail had just been cut off.

  It wasn’t just the wedding that was on her mind, the mayor gig was taking up more time than she’d originally thought it would. In some ways it was getting easier because after a month and a half on the job, she was actually getting the hang of it.

  “What? We’re missing a trashcan from the Beach Street entrance to the gulf? Let me bring that to the attention of the city maintenance department.”

  Or, “I had no idea that the light on Columbus Street stayed red for so long. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Pettingill, you don’t have all day to just sit there waiting for it to turn green.” Actually, at eighty-nine, it was questionable exactly how much time Mr. Pettingill had left for anything, but Mimi still contacted the county engineer to see if he could coordinate the lights better.

  But then of course, in some ways the mayor’s job seemed harder than ever. Her contact person at the Leon County Civic Center had moved to Miami a couple of years ago, so that was a bust. But she had managed to establish a line of communication through email with Billy Brenton’s assistant, Crystal, who seemed like a lovely person over the Internet (it was always so hard to tell what someone was really like online!). Mimi gave her all the details for the festival and Crystal had emailed back, “I’ll see what I can do.” Which was a lot better response than No Way. But, Mimi wasn’t getting her hopes up.

  Doug had encouraged her to not give up and she wasn’t. But it was probably past time that she got serious about looking into some backup entertainment.

  Today, however, she wasn’t going to think about the Spring Into Summer festival. Today she was devoting entirely to her sister-in-law’s wedding. She was having lunch with Allie at The Harbor House. It was one of the places on her short list to hold the reception. She’d also invited someone else along—Lauren Miller, Tom’s ex-wife.

  The situation between the two women wasn’t typical. Lauren and Allie had long since become friends. Tom and Lauren’s son, Henry, had made that a necessity, but inviting the ex-wife along to plan a wedding migh
t have caused Emily Post to choke on her own book of etiquette. Still, Mimi had her own ulterior motive for asking Lauren to join them. She was staring at that ulterior motive right now.

  It was Allie’s grandmother’s wedding dress. A floor length off-white nineteen-fifties gown that looked like it could have been worn by Elizabeth Taylor in the original Father of the Bride movie. With its dropped shoulder satin bodice, cinched waist, and flared chiffon skirt, it was a dream come true no matter what decade you were married in.

  Mimi remembered the day she’d first seen this dress. Buela had reverently brought it out of her closet, offering it to Mimi for her own wedding. The gesture had brought tears to Mimi’s eyes. Partially because she’d been so touched by Buela’s kindness. But mostly because there was no way at six months pregnant that Mimi could have fit into the gown.

  It was the same day Zeke had confronted her about the pregnancy. She’d been at home packing for her summer trip to the North Carolina cabin when he’d come to her house, ringing the doorbell like a madman. Her parents had come home in the middle of it all and Zeke had basically asked her to choose between a life with him and a life without him and her baby. The choice had been ridiculously easy. She’d walked out the door holding Zeke’s hand with nothing but the clothes on her back. She’d sat behind him on his motorcycle (the only time he’d allowed her to do that while pregnant) and driven straight to his grandmother’s house.

  Buela had been both surprised and happy to see her.

  “Mija,” she said, giving Mimi a tight hug. “I thought I’d never see you again! I’ve missed you. I told Zeke, ‘You’re never going to find another girl like that Mimi!’” She’d laughed, and immediately rushed off to the kitchen to make them Zeke’s favorite meal, arroz con pollo.

  “We’re more than just dating, Buela,” Zeke had explained later, “Mimi and I are getting married.”

  Allie had been thirteen then, already tall with large brown eyes and a pale creamy complexion with no hint of teenage acne on the horizon. She’d jumped up and down and squealed. “I’m going to have a sister!” And Mimi’s heart had instantly been won over.