Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom

by Barton, Sara M.

  “Subliminal messaging?” I laughed. “Neurolinguistics?”

  “Yes, I’ve been studying these in psychology, part of a unit on the influential effects of direct advertising on social media. We can try it on Captain Peacock, too. You know...to get him in the mood for marriage.”

  “Oh, give me strength, dear Lord.” I replied, rolling my eyes dramatically towards the heavens as I put my hands together and made my verbal plea. “Clearly she tests my patience.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem, Miz Scarlet. You’ve been a little too patient for too long. I do think you should consider mingling with the marriage-minded. I do think you should encourage Kenny to....”

  I cut her off with a good-natured warning. “Well, I do think you should just give it a rest, smarty pants!”

  “I do agree with you, Miz Scarlet! I do think I will now mind my own business, because I do want Captain Peacock to propose to you sometime in this century. After all, it’s only right that you, as my elder, should marry before I do.”

  “You are absolutely incorrigible!”

  “I know. It’s all part of my elfin charm,” she grinned mischievously.

  “Elfin charm indeed! We’ll see how long that lasts when the wrinkles start cracking that lovely porcelain skin of yours and you turn into an ancient crone. Now, let’s get back to reality. I’ve got some dinner to make,” I announced, crossing the dining room on my way to the kitchen.

  “Are the Johnsons dining in tonight?”

  “Yes, and so are Florence Vinson and Dr. Van Zandt. The Wilkies won’t be joining us. They have a reservation at Villa Maria. Oh, could you please make sure we have a couple of bottles of white Bordeaux chilling in the wine fridge?”

  “Okey-dokey,” she promised, pulling out the tablecloth and napkins.

  “Hello, hello!” Cousin Lacey entered from the hallway. “I bring greetings from the handsome heartthrob you call Kenny. I ran into him at the gas station and he asked me to tell you he’ll pick you up at quarter after seven because the movie starts at eight.”

  “Shoot. I thought we were going to the later showing tonight.”

  “What are you seeing?” Lacey wanted to know.

  “On the Job. Kenny’s wanted to see it for a while.”

  “Is that the new Jefferson Cornwall thriller? I heard it’s a nail biter.”

  “Ugh...just what I need...a ‘cops versus creeps’ flick,” I groaned. “Whatever happened to a good romantic comedy?”

  “Miz Scarlet doesn’t get it,” the senior citizen told the teenager, her tone conspiratorial. “I swear she’s as dull as ditchwater when it comes to the opposite sex. Shall we tell her?”

  “I thought the expression was ‘dishwater’.” Jenny seemed rather puzzled. “At least that’s what my mother used to say.”

  “No, my young friend, it’s an old British idiom,” Lacey announced with the confidence of a woman who spent many an evening watching those PBS imports.

  “But,” Jenny protested, “I really think the word is dishwater.”

  “No buts about it.” Lacey shook her head adamantly. “The expression is ‘dull as ditchwater’. You see, when a ditch is dug and fills up, you usually get that dull-looking muddy water. Hence....”

  “But dishwater is dull, too. Lots of suds and by the time you’re done scrubbing, you can’t see the bottom of the sink.”

  “You’re both correct,” I stepped in to mediate. “In Britain, it’s ditchwater; and here in America, it’s dishwater.”

  “Oh, I find that hard to believe,” the devoted fan of Downton Abbey sniffed. “I’d have to see that in writing.”

  “Alas,” I held out my Smartphone and showed her my search screen, “here it ‘tis, milady, in black and white.”

  “Well, the point is we’re right about you being dull as...nay...thick as a brick when it comes to romance.” Lacey turned to Jenny to confirm the appropriateness of her idiom and got a nod.

  “Brick works for me,” the teen agreed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

  “Should we tell her what she’s missing when she cringes at the thought of going to a ‘shoot ‘em up’ movie with the adorable, handsome hunk, better known as Kenny?”

  “We should.” I saw that impertinent young woman’s eyes twinkle as she turned to me. “You’re supposed to cling to him during the scary parts, so that you get to snorgle on the ride home.”

  “What?”I replied blankly. Even Lacey looked at the girl with a quizzical expression.

  “You know, snorgle. You grab him and bring your lips up to his....”

  The senior citizen corrected her again. “I think you mean snog, dearie. I’ve never heard of snorgle as a verb.”

  “Snorgle, snog!” I reproved them, appalled that they felt compelled to discuss my intimate relationship with Captain Peacock. “I think you’re both crackers!”

  “And she wonders why she’s not married yet,” said Lacey as she pursed her lips. “Tsk-tsk-tsk. She’s too proud to lean on a man because she’s a strong, modern woman. I say any time you can get a man to pay attention to you, that’s an opportunity to open the door to romance.”

  “It’s not about being weak or helpless, Miz Scarlet,” my assistance explained. “It’s about being physically close. You don’t want to appear too stand-offish....”

  “If you two are done dispensing romantic advice, I think I’ll get on with my work.”

  “See that?” Lacey pointed right at me. “Her nose is out of joint because she thinks she’s supposed to be more like a man. She probably challenges Kenny to a couple of rounds of arm-wrestling when they go out, to see who’s going to pick up the tab. Yes, every man wants a female buddy, a fishing pal, someone to go Dutch treat with on their dates. They probably toss a coin to determine who’s going to make the first move.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I slipped on my most disapproving face, the one I mastered back when I first started teaching high school and I wanted my students to know they were skating on thin ice. Take that, madam.

  “Ever notice how snippy Miz Scarlet gets when people try to help?” Lacey gave Jenny a little poke of her elbow. “Rather like that prim, proper schoolmarm on Little House on the Prairie. What was her name again?”

  “Are you suggesting I, in any way, resemble Miss Beadle?”

  “If the crinoline fits....” said the woman with the sly grin. I caught her wink out of the corner of my eye and realized this was part of her strategy. She was playing me for all it was worth. If I was clueless about romance, the Googins girls and their cohort would have free reign with the wedding business. Over my dead body.

  “I give up. You win.”

  “It’s a start, but you’ll need to come to me for lessons in the art of catching a man. Isn’t that right, Jenny?”

  “I could probably tutor her on the opposite sex.” Spoken with the naive bravado of the under twenty. “I don’t think she has a lot of experience in dating men.”

  I ignored them both, needing to change the subject. “Jen, if Kenny’s picking me up early, is there any chance you could....”

  “...Finish the clean-up after dinner?” The teenager grinned. “It will be my pleasure.”

  “Speaking of that, what is for dinner?” Lacey wanted to know.

  “Not oysters, if that’s what you’re going to suggest,” I replied drily. “Let me guess. You had a busy day chasing men.”

  “No, I just got done with an hour of synchronized swimming with the Red Hot Mamas.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Maybe it is for the participants; probably not so much for the spectators. We’re a bunch of women over sixty five in spandex swimsuits and red bathing caps. Quite a sight, especially when we all wave our jiggling arms above our heads at the same time. I fear we look like a pod of whales doing a water ballet in the deep.”

  The visual image of so many older women bouncing up and down in the local high school swimming pool made me laugh. I had to give Lacey credit f
or keeping active. She wasn’t about to surrender to age without a fight.

  “We’re having pork tenderloin with a bourbon reduction, green beans, garlic mashed potatoes, and strawberry shortcake.”

  “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse, but I’ll settle for some crackers and cheese to tide me over until dinner is ready. Where’s Laurel? It’s high time I poured us a couple of dry martinis. It is Saturday night, after all.”

  I gazed over her shoulder, down the long hallway, to the living room. The TV was on and that could only mean one thing. My mother was watching the news.

  “I believe she’s already opened the can of cocktail peanuts in anticipation of your arrival. I’ll have the cheese and crackers ready momentarily.” This was the usual Googins girls’ weekend routine, unless they were dining out. With a nod, Lacey turned and sauntered off in the direction of the living room. I noticed Jenny studying me.

  “Is that what you’re wearing tonight for your date with Captain Peacock?” she wanted to know.

  “What’s your point, toots?”

  “You could put a little more effort into convincing Kenny to seal the deal. I mean, it’s not like you’re getting any younger. I’d kind of like to have a sibling of sorts before I have kids of my own.”

  “You’re lucky I like you. If I didn’t, I’d give you the old heave-ho, right off the gang plank.”

  “Oh, pirate talk. Shiver me timbers, you’ve got me shaking in my boots.”

  “Very amusing in a Johnny Depp sort of way. Let me guess -- Pirates of the Caribbean is yet again making the rounds of the late night TV rerun circuit.”

  “Can’t fool you, can I?”

  “Not likely, matey,” I laughed. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and take that cheese platter into the Googins girls? And while you’re in there, can you make sure we have enough ice in the bucket? I think I just heard the Johnsons come in.”

  By the time six o’clock rolled around, the crowd was gathered in the living room, cocktails in hand, awaiting the summons to the dining room for dinner. It was a genial group that sat down to eat a short time later. Just after seven, as Jenny poured coffee and the guests dug into flaky biscuits topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, I excused myself to get ready for my date.

  Rushing upstairs, I grabbed my purse from my bed and started out the door, but that little voice of doubt stopped me in my tracks. Would it kill you to change your blouse and throw on something other than sneakers, Scarlet Wilson? With a sigh of surrender, I removed the oh-so-practical, white cotton short-sleeved shirt I was wearing and yanked open the closet door. Staring at the clothing hanging there, I tried to make up my mind. Did I want to come off as dark and dangerous or attractive and approachable? Maybe a little of both, I decided. I pulled out a lacy turquoise top and kicked off my New Balance shoes in favor of a pair of leopard print flats.

  Standing there, I studied my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a woman sliding into mid-life romance with the brakes on. Why was I so hesitant to dress up for Kenny? I’ll just be disappointed. Something will eventually happen, Kenny will go away again, and I’ll be left with an overstuffed bag of useless dreams to keep me going on the road to old age.

  “Boy, talk about cynical!” I shook myself out of my gloom-and-doom party. “What do normal women my age do when they date?”

  The answer was right there on my dresser. I grabbed the bottle of the aptly named Romance and gave myself a spritz of perfume. Cloaked in a mist of floral notes with just a hint of spice, I hurried down the two flights of stairs just as Huckleberry and January barked to announce a new arrival at the front door.

  “I’ve got it!” I hollered over my shoulder. The last thing I wanted was for the dinner guests to join us for a meet-and-greet in the vestibule.

  “Well, don’t you look nice,” said the cheerful man on the porch. Kenny leaned forward and gave me a warm kiss on the lips as he grasped my hand. “Mmm...you smell good, too.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I started to step past him, but he maneuvered me back inside.

  “We’re not in that much of a rush, Scarlet. I want to say hello to your mom.”

  “You do?” Just my luck. “I’d hate to miss the opening credits.”

  “Nonsense. We’ve got plenty of time.” With that, he strode down the hallway purposefully on those long legs of his, rounded the corner, and continued towards the dining room.

  “Kenny! How nice to see you! Pull up a chair.” The Googins girls offered him strawberry shortcake, which he promptly accepted.

  “Crap! Now we’ll never get out of here alive,” I groaned to my canine companions as they waited for me to make a move. “Come on.”

  Reluctant, even resistant to the notion, I forced myself to trace Kenny’s route into the dining room, accompanied by the dogs. My date was now sitting between Laurel and Lacey, coffee mug in hand, deep in conversation with the group. The little glob of white on his upper lip looked suspiciously like whipped cream.

  “Kenny says he’s available for Scrabble tomorrow night, Scarlet, so count him in for dinner,” my mother informed me. “Florence and the good doctor have suggested that we can do a round robin.”

  “Have they?”

  “I haven’t played Scrabble in years, but it sounds like fun.” Dr. Van Zandt hoisted both thumbs in the air. “I’m in.”

  “That means we have five players for two boards. Too bad we don’t have three more,” Lacey announced. All eyes seemed to turn in my direction at the same time. “Scarlet, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

  Chapter Four --

  I was pretty sure no one would accept the old “have to wash my hair” excuse, but my mind seemed to freeze up as I scrambled for an answer. Desperate, I glanced over at Kenny, who gazed expectantly at me. How could I say no?

  “I guess I’m available,” I heard myself say. “Count me in.”

  “Too bad we’re leaving in the morning,” said Robin Johnson. “Scrabble’s our thing. Maybe next time we’re in town we can play.”

  “We can ask Myrtle and Willow to join us,” Lacey suggested. Myrtle was a distant Googins cousin, who lived down the road with her daughter. “And as a last resort, we’ve got Bur.”

  Ask Bur, the man most likely to make up words out of thin air? Great! I’ll spend the entire game challenging every combination of tiles he places on the board. Won’t that be fun?

  “Splendid,” said the retired medicine man, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I shall look forward to it.”

  “Well, now that’s settled, please excuse Scarlet and me. We’re off to the movies,” Kenny told the group, hopping up from his seat. As he did, I caught him winking at Lacey. That’s how I knew she got to him -- it must have been at the gas station. Of all the low-down, sneaky, conniving....

  I waited until we were in the hallway, on our way to the front door, before I tossed out the hook to catch my unsuspecting fish. “So, does this mean you approve of the Googins girls’ plan?”

  There it was, just as I suspected, the dead giveaway -- a slight misstep in his gait and an avoidance of eye contact. Kenny’s always been a fairly honest guy. My brother, Bur, used to call him Mr. Goody Two Shoes in high school.

  “What?” He paused a moment, his hand on the knob of the front door, and by the time he’d turned it a few seconds later, I knew he’d constructed his response. I thought it rather lame. “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you really think I didn’t know? Good heavens!” I let out an amused chuckle as I brushed past him. “It’s not like I’m completely in the dark when it comes to the Googins girls, for heaven’s sake. Give me a little credit, Captain Peacock.”

  “So, you don’t mind?”

  “Mind? Why should I mind?” I played along, pretending to know what he was talking about. I wasn’t even close.

  “I just assumed you might think your mother is too old to date a guy like Thaddeus.”

  “Huh?” We were half-way to the
car when I stopped in my tracks. My mouth dropped open like a proverbial Venus flytrap, ready for the unwitting housefly to buzz in. Did I think my mother was too old to date? It had never even crossed my mind. More importantly, it had never occurred to me that the woman in the wheelchair had a desire to land herself a date with Dr. Van Zandt.

  I quickly scrambled to recover my equilibrium. This was no longer just a scheme to start a wedding business. Now it was about roping players into a game of Scrabble so that my mother could get herself a date. Had the world gone completely and utterly mad? Never underestimate a wily senior citizen. Be wary when two of them conspire.

  Kenny opened the car door for me and stepped back as I slid into the seat. Once I was in, he shut the door and came around to the driver’s side of the car. Climbing in behind the wheel, he leaned over and gave me an unexpected kiss, one that left me breathless.

  “What’s that for?” I asked, when we came up for air.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay with this. When I first moved back here, your mother was someone I could talk to about being widowed. She understood me like nobody else. She’s the one who encouraged me to give love another try.”

  “You talked to my mother about dating? Where was I?”

  “You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner.”

  “Ah,” I nodded, thinking about all the times I fussed over a sauce for the beef tenderloin or grilled mahi-mahi on my stovetop grill, while Kenny sat with my mother in the living room. I had no idea the two of them ever had any significant conversations.

  “Your mother knows what it’s like to lose the man she loved, Scarlet. She still loves your dad, but....”

  “But she’s lonely?” I replied, filling in the blank in his sentence. We were finally at that stage in our relationship where it was acceptable, rather than presumptuous.

  “Yes.”

  “Dr. Van Zandt is the first man she’s expressed an interest in.”

  “That’s the long and short of it.”