The Year of Luminous Love

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “Miss Beauchamp,” he said as Ciana started toward the door, “I’m offering a great deal of money to you and your mother. You’ll walk away millionaires. The project is immensely expensive, but it will open up this entire end of the county to growth and business, move this area out of an agrarian past and into a progressive future. Open your mind to the possibilities.”

  She left without another word.

  In the car driving home, Alice Faye said, “Stop sulking. Talk to me.”

  “I’m not sulking. The project is impressive.”

  “I’m glad you see it as such.” Alice Faye sounded surprised. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking I’m not ready to sell our land.”

  “You’re going to college next month. I can’t run the place alone. Let me rephrase: I don’t want to run the place.”

  Ciana’s college fund from Olivia was almost gone, spent in Italy. The villa’s owner had returned the final month’s rent once he heard how Arie had become ill. Thankfully, Enzo’s two hirelings had returned the house to pristine condition after the girls had scrambled to leave. The refund plus what was still in the bank might pay for a year at Vandy, and only if she commuted. The schedule would be grueling and leave her little time for resurrecting the farm.

  Her mother sighed. “It will take both of us to agree to the sale.”

  “It’s not what Olivia wanted. She worked hard to keep the land producing.”

  “She’s dead, Ciana. We’re in charge now.”

  The words sounded cold and final. And they stung. “I … I need to think.”

  “Well, think about the money and being able to do anything you want for the rest of your life.”

  “How do I look?” Arie sat in the bridal prep staging room of the old church with Eden fussing over her hair.

  “Beautiful,” Ciana said.

  “Stop wiggling,” Eden said through a mouthful of hairpins. She reached for the can of hair spray in Ciana’s hand and squirted a slipping curl into place.

  Around them, girls giggled and talked, all of them Abbie’s friends and a few of Arie and Eric’s cousins. Abbie was in a separate room being photographed.

  “You two look gorgeous,” Arie grumbled. “I’m so skinny, my chest looks concave.”

  “No way,” Ciana said, although it was a halfhearted denial. Arie’s lovely dark blue velvet dress was long sleeved and covered her thin shoulders, but the front of the dress hung loosely.

  “I told you to buy a padded bra,” Eden mumbled.

  “Padded with basketballs wouldn’t help,” Arie wailed. “The two of you look like models.”

  Eden wore a short black dress with sequins and Ciana had chosen a dress the color of champagne. “We’re just bystanders,” Ciana said. “Abbie is the main attraction, so that’s who everyone will be watching.”

  “Wish I were sitting with you all,” Arie said, looking scared and pale.

  “You have a date,” Eden reminded her. “We’re manless.”

  “A date I asked. Jon’s only here because I dragged him.”

  Ciana shook her head. “All the men are here because their wives or girlfriends dragged them.”

  “And because of the free food,” Eden inserted.

  The door from the next room opened and Abbie glided in, her mother quickly following and poufing the gown’s train. The bride was a vision in white lace. All the girls clapped when they saw her.

  “There,” Eden said, putting a final misting of spray on Arie’s hair.

  Arie coughed, fanned away the excess spray in the air, and walked over to Abbie. “Eric’s so lucky to be marrying you.”

  Abbie leaned forward and gave Arie air kisses on both cheeks. “He told me I reminded him of you and your great personality. That’s why he dated me in the first place. I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister-in-law.”

  The wedding planner stepped inside. “Ready, ladies? The groomsmen are all lined up.”

  The bridesmaids flurried together in clouds of perfume and nervous twitters, lining up like birds on a wire. Ciana and Eden slipped out the door, down the hall, and into a pew of the candlelit church.

  The sanctuary reminded Ciana of the many elaborate churches Arie had dragged them through in Italy. Abundant white garlands of fragrant flowers embraced the altar. Music played softly. From her place in the back, she saw Jon’s head and shoulders in the second row on the groom’s side of the church. He was there for Arie. She closed her eyes. Arie needed him. He would take care of her and make her happy once she was well.

  The organist turned up the volume and struck the beginning chords of the wedding march. Everyone seated in the pews stood. The bridesmaids filed down the aisle, each with a young man at her side. Arie came, her smile trembling, but at the front, she turned, stared straight at Jon, and reinforced her smile with the sight of him. Finally Abbie entered on her father’s arm. Ciana forced back tears for the beauty of the moment and for the loss of the man who could not be hers.

  The party had been in full swing for three hours in the church’s reception hall as the clock inched ever closer to midnight. Abbie had put on cowboy boots and, holding up the hem of her bridal gown, danced with Eric to every tune the band played. Eden was tucked somewhere out in the dancing melee, while at their table, Ciana took a breather from the crowded dance floor. Arie sat alone at the wedding party table in self-imposed isolation, watching, wishing she had the energy to join the dancers. Jon had asked, but she’d refused.

  As the crowd dispersed and the band started a slow tune, Jon walked Eden to her chair, where she flopped and pushed her hair off her forehead. “I’m pooped!”

  Jon held out his hand to Ciana. “Dance with me.”

  “I … I’m resting.”

  Eden rattled Ciana’s chair, almost dumping her onto the floor. “Dance with the man.”

  Eden ignored the murderous look Ciana gave her.

  On the dance floor, Jon pulled Ciana close, causing the old familiar uptick in her heartbeat. She refused to move her feet. “You know how to dance with me, Ciana.”

  She did. “That’s all in the past,” she insisted.

  His expression turned pensive. “What’s wrong between us? For a while there, at least we were friends. Now you snap at me every time I come near.”

  Over time, her anger had morphed into confusion. Having him around her often made her heart ache. She couldn’t afford to care about him. “There’s Arie.”

  “I haven’t forgotten about her, but do you need her permission to dance with me? To be kind to me?”

  Of course, he had a valid point. She’d treated him horribly ever since the return from Italy. At first her anger protected her, but lately she hadn’t liked herself very much for being hateful to him. Her chin trembled, and slowly she fell into step within his embrace. Why was life so complicated? “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ll start minding my manners,” she said with genuine contriteness.

  “Truce?” he asked, peering at her with a dip of his head and a tentative smile.

  She wanted his friendship if she couldn’t have anything else. “Truce,” she whispered. “Now, don’t make me cry. My mascara will run.”

  “You’re pretty no matter what,” he said.

  “And you’re delusional,” she said, a catch in her voice.

  He stopped swaying to the music and held her eyes with his. Time stopped, cradling the two of them as voices in the room began a ten-second countdown to the new year. Jon raised her chin with his forefinger and brushed his lips across hers. “Happy New Year, boss lady.”

  He stepped away and the world once again began to move. He walked Ciana to her table, where glasses of champagne waited. She watched him return to the bridal table and to Arie’s side. A new year, a new beginning. The band played “Auld Lang Syne.”

  After the toasts and cheers, hugs and kisses, Ciana took Eden’s elbow. “Let’s split.”

  “First, look what I captured.” Eden brandished an unopened
bottle of bubbly.

  “How—”

  Eden wagged her hand at a young waiter standing in a corner and smiled flirtatiously. “Raoul. Cute, isn’t he?”

  “What did you promise him? Because I want out of here. Our hotel room is calling me.”

  “Don’t panic. They’re promises I won’t keep.” Eden blew kisses toward the eager-looking Raoul.

  “You are so wicked,” Ciana said with a shake of her head.

  “Ain’t I, though.” She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I want to go to our room too. I want to talk to you.”

  “About?”

  “The future.”

  Eden and Ciana snuggled in chairs outside on the balcony of their Nashville hotel room, bundled in flannel pj’s, thick socks, and blankets, with an open champagne bottle on the floor between them. They watched the night sky still erupting from time to time with fireworks. “That was a pretty one,” Eden noted as golden sparkles shimmered above.

  They watched a few minutes longer for the next explosion, until Ciana asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Whoa. We can’t discuss the future until we celebrate the old year—the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  “You first.”

  Eden said, “The good—we graduated.” She took a sip from the bottle and passed it to Ciana.

  “Seems like a million years ago, though … The bad—Olivia died.”

  “Take two sips,” Eden said. “One for her memory. One just because we can.”

  Another burst of fireworks popped into a mushroom of red, blue, and gold rain. Ciana oohed in the dark.

  Eden said, “And the ugly.”

  In unison, both girls raised their fists and shouted, “Tony!”

  “The good,” Ciana said, after sipping from the bottle and passing it to Eden. “Arie’s remission.”

  “And the ugly—her relapse.” Eden passed the bottle back, adding, “The very good—going to Italy.”

  “True,” Ciana sighed. Her head was spinning from the champagne, and she was glad she only had to stumble inside and fall into bed. “The art was pretty. Arie was right about that.”

  “Enzo was pretty too,” Eden said, realizing she had no feeling in her lower lip. “Question. Do you wish you’d have gone with him to Portofino? I mean, if Arie hadn’t gotten sick?”

  “Sometimes.” Ciana brooded. “He was gorgeous. And he did promise me a real good time.”

  Eden giggled. “I’ll bet. I saw him on one of the celebrity TV channels. He was rolling out of a limo with some starlet, or maybe it was a countess, hanging on to him.”

  Ciana shook her head. The patio whirled. “Men are fickle. Imagine choosing some glamorous starlet over a farm girl like me. I’m crushed.” She raised the bottle. “A toast to Enzo, both good and bad.”

  Eden took the bottle, turned it up, but only one lone drop trickled out. She set it on the cement floor and glanced around. “Where’s Raoul when I need him?”

  The question sent both her and Ciana off into gales of laughter. “I know a really good thing that happened to all of us last year,” Eden said when she regained her composure. “All of us, Arie, you, and me, we fell in love.”

  Ciana hugged her blanket tightly. “Not me.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  Ciana made a face. “Well, this is a new year and I’m going to fall out of love. Mind over matter.” She conjured up Jon’s green eyes, the brush of his lips across her skin. She shivered, but not from the cold.

  “And since you bring up the new year and the future, my mom announced that she’s selling our house and moving to Tampa.”

  “What?” Ciana’s chair clunked onto the cement. “What about you? Are you going with her?”

  “Fat chance.”

  Ciana shook her finger at Eden. “Good! You can come live with me. Our old house has tons of space. In fact, I insist that you move in with me and my now-sober mother.” She hiccupped. “Seriously.”

  “That’s a nice offer, but I have another plan.”

  “Like what?”

  “I want to go back to Europe. I want to find Garret.”

  Ciana saw Eden’s determined expression. “Can you find him?”

  “No luck so far. I tried reaching him through that travel magazine he was working for, but it’s defunct.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. After the expansion talk, it folded. I’ve emailed the company, but everything bounces back. I’ve done a Web search on his name. He’s not listed on any social website. His byline comes up and I can read his articles, but the man himself has vanished.” She slumped. “I don’t even know if he wants to see me again. All I want is a chance to explain what happened and why I didn’t meet up with him.”

  “And until you find him?”

  “Work. Save money. Keep looking. And if I do locate him, ask if he still wants me to come on his walkabout. If he does, I’ll spend every dime I have getting to wherever he is.”

  Ciana gently touched Eden’s shoulder. “Same offer. If your house sells and your mother moves, you have a home with me until you have enough money to go meet him.”

  Under her breath, Eden grumbled, “If I’m not too old to travel by then. And if he wants me.”

  “He’ll want you,” Ciana said. “Arie and I both agree that the guy was head over heels for you. The crazy Aussie.”

  A nostalgic half smile shadowed Eden’s mouth. “He’s crazy, all right. And maybe I am too. But I hope you’re both right. I hope he misses me as much as I miss him.”

  Ciana lay on the ground under her truck, banging on the universal joint with a wrench and cussing. She’d pulled the pickup into the barn in order to stay warm while she worked, or tried to work. She was out of her element and she knew it. Nothing she’d downloaded from the Web was helping her deal with the truck’s leaking problem.

  She felt a boot kick her foot. “That you swearing like a sailor, Miz Beauchamp?”

  She scooted out from beneath the truck and glared at Jon. He sat on a bale of straw carving a small piece of wood with a pocketknife. “I didn’t know you whittled,” she said.

  “I’m no artist, but I like doing it,” he said. Ever since the wedding, tensions had lessened between them. A good thing. They could talk now, banter, joke, and occasionally tease each other. She’d even taken up eating breakfast with Jon and her mother.

  He slid off the bale, tucked the knife into his jeans pocket and the lump of wood into his shirt pocket, and pulled her to her feet. “I think you’d better call in backup.”

  “You?” she asked hopefully.

  He threw up his hands. “I work with four-legged creatures, never anything with four wheels.”

  “You have a truck.” She motioned with the heavy wrench. “How do you keep it running?”

  “I hire a mechanic.”

  She growled at him. “Big help you are.”

  “I can help you tow it into town.”

  “Not today,” she grumbled. “I’m supposed to go to MTSU and see the registrar about late registration. I went online, but all the classes I need or want are full. Thought I’d plead my case in person. Mom’s got the Lincoln, or I’d borrow it.”

  Jon picked straw out of her hair. “I can take you, if you don’t mind stopping off at the county home so I can visit my dad.”

  She was curious about his dad, had wondered what sort of man had fathered Jon. “Seems like a fair trade. Let me clean up a bit.”

  Jon first drove to the campus. “Thought you were going to Vandy.”

  She was surprised he remembered. “MTSU is closer. I can live at home and drive to the campus with Arie. Thought it would be more fun than both of us going our separate ways.” Ciana didn’t mention she couldn’t afford Vandy anymore.

  In Murfreesboro, on the MTSU campus, every parking lot was filled to capacity. “Do you think all these cars have come to see the registrar?”

  “Beats me. But it looks like we have to park out here and either hike in or take
one of those buses.” He pointed at a bus just leaving one of the parking lots.

  Ciana groaned and hung her head. “I’m so screwed.”

  Jon looked amused. “What do you want to do?”

  She nibbled pensively on her lower lip. “I want to take you up on your offer to tow my truck to Ted’s Auto Shop tomorrow. After he fixes it, I’ll drive out here and camp. No need for you to waste your day. Let’s go see your dad.”

  The facility where Wade Mercer was housed was a far cry from the beautifully maintained Evergreen, where Olivia had lived for three years. This place looked every bit the institutional building it was, with narrow halls, small windows that admitted little light, and paint so faded that the walls seemed colorless. Ciana wrinkled her nose over smells of stale food and people needing showers.

  “I don’t like him being here either.” Jon was apologetic. “It’s where he has to be right now. I’ll take him back to Texas eventually. Unfortunately someone has to die before he can be moved up on the waiting list back home.” Jon signed in at a reception desk, told Ciana, “You can wait here. I won’t stay long.”

  “No … if it’s okay, I’ll tag along.”

  He hesitated. “Fair warning—my dad’s raw around the edges. Just blurts out anything he wants to say. And he’s got a lot of damage on his left side from the stroke. His face isn’t pretty.”

  “I get it. My grandmother wasn’t in good shape either toward the end.” She followed Jon down a narrow hall, dodging wheelchairs and food carts.

  Jon entered a room with two beds divided by a limp curtain. One bed was empty, and in the other a man lay watching an old TV hanging on the wall. “Hey, Dad,” Jon said.

  Wade Mercer turned toward the voice. “Look who’s come to call.” His body was twisted on one side, his mouth quirked in a permanent scowl. “You brought a pretty filly with you.” The eye on his stroke side stared fixedly.