by Cathy Tully
“What’s this all about? All of a sudden, you care about when the divorce will be final?” Missy popped another cookie into her mouth.
“I’m only an impartial observer, pointing out that both of you—whether consciously or subconsciously—have chosen to not sign the papers that will make the whole thing a done deal. That’s odd for two people who claim they want to be divorced, don’t you think?”
“No, it’s not. Vinnie’s growing his business. What makes you think he’s had the time?”
Val ripped a piece of tape from the dispenser, slapped it on the box, then pushed it to the side. “Ten down one hundred and fifty to go!” Sipping from her wine glass, she studied Missy. “Do you still love him?”
Missy nearly choked. “Jeez, don’t hold back, Val.”
“I won’t. You didn’t answer my question.”
Missy thought for a moment. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“That means yes.” Val pulled another box over and began to cut a piece of wrapping paper to fit it.
Missy’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Val tipped her head. “It wouldn’t be a terrible thing if you still loved your husband, you know. I mean, after all those years together, what woman in her right mind would have the patience or desire to break another man in?”
“My ex-husband,” Missy stressed, running an impatient hand through her hair before draining her wine glass. “It’s very frustrating. I mean, suddenly after almost nine months, he shows up, looking and smelling better than he has a right to. Plus, he offers to pay the bills, and pitch in with the planning. Jesus, I am so confused.”
Val intercepted the wine bottle from Missy and put it out of her reach. Then she reached across the table and placed one hand over Missy’s. “All I’m saying is keep an open mind. This wedding could be what you two need to get back together. If that’s what you want. Me? I’m done with men. My goldfish and I have an understanding.”
Her stomach turned. She’d been just as wrong as Vinnie on many occasions. But her and him back together? Highly doubtful. “I don’t know if either one of us has changed that much.” Visions of past scream sessions rose up to haunt her. “But if I have to heat up one more single plate and eat alone, I’d might as well eat at the diner!”
“Promise me you’ll be open minded when it comes to all matters that concern him, okay?”
Missy nodded. “Fine. Now give me the wine.” Val passed the bottle and she filled her glass. Thank God for alcohol. Maybe Val had a point. You didn’t spend all those years together, working, raising a family, and aging together to just throw it away without some work. Deep inside she hoped he’d changed for all the right reasons and not just to impress her. If they decided to reunite and she found out later it was all an act, by God, she’d kick his ass all the way to the moon and back.
****
By seven the next morning, the house at Six-Oh-Nine Fullbright Lane looked like a clearance sale at Bergdorf’s. Burly men moved furniture into a huge moving van parked in the driveway while Antoine barked orders to the caterers. An electrician’s drill competed with the wedding planner’s high-pitched whine while holes were drilled into the dining room ceiling for additional outlets to supply extra outside lighting and power for the DJ’s equipment.
Poor Hugo, locked in the garage for his own and others’ safety, sent up howls to match the mayhem.
Missy walked out to where the bewildered dog sat panting and howling. “I know, honey.” When she sat on the step, he ambled over and jumped onto her lap.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon. She rubbed her forehead. Last night’s wine, all three bottles, left her with a slight hangover.
Antoine’s shriek came through the garage door. “Mrs. Modesto, could you come in here, please?”
“This can’t be good,” Missy whispered, placing Hugo on the floor. The dog started barking. She squeezed through the small opening and closed the door behind her just before Hugo got through. His growl emanated all the way into the foyer.
“We’re almost done.” Antoine fanned himself with a white linen handkerchief. His face flushed, she was certain he was ready to get this thing over with, too. Frustration ate at her gut. Exhausted and near the end of her rope with Antoine and his band of merry men, Missy wished for a brief moment that Cara and Dan had eloped. Christ, if she’d known then what she knew now, she’d have bought the ladder.
“I need the parking permit you obtained from the town.”
She froze. Oh no. Vinnie said he’d take care of that. Missy pulled her cell from her back pocket. Raising her finger to Antoine, she walked across the living room. “One minute, please.”
“Vinnie Modesto.”
Not bothering with amenities, she demanded, “What did you do with the parking permit?”
“Oh yeah, about that. There was a small problem.”
Rage erupted. “What problem? How long have you known about this small problem? And why didn’t you tell me before now?” The electric drill from the living room made her head bang.
Jerk. Same old Vinnie. Making promises he couldn’t keep. Well, she’s had his crap up to her eyeballs, which, by the way, felt like they were ready to pop out of her already pounding head.
“The papers I submitted got misplaced,” he murmured in that superior male patronizing tone, which only pissed her off even more.
“When I called to check on the progress, the clerk claimed she didn’t know anything about it so I refiled the request. Relax. They told me to come down today and assured me it would be ready.”
“Antoine needs it now, Vincent.”
His voice rose to dangerous levels. “Tell Antoine I’ll get it to him!”
Just like old times Vinnie screaming; her yelling back. “Don’t you dare yell at me! I never could depend on you! Why I gave you something as important as this is beyond me!”
“Tell Antoine I’ll bring it to his office later.”
“Okay!” she shouted and disconnected the call.
“Mrs. Modesto, I need the permit.”
She nodded. “Mr. Modesto had a problem with the town, but promises to bring it to you this afternoon.”
Antoine rolled his eyes in disdain. “I suppose that will have to do.”
Missy bit her lip. The constant drilling and loud voices from the moving men from the living and dining rooms only hyped the ache looming behind both eyes. Hugo’s scratching at the garage door sounded like a jackhammer on speed.
“Antoine,” she said through gritted teeth.
“He will be done momentarily,” the planner said, then shouted an order at Michael. The drilling ceased, but an endless stream of workers trooped in with small round bistro style tables and matching chairs, placing them at various spots throughout the living and dining rooms. After one look around, Missy doubted there would be enough seating for all the guests. More than one cleansing breath failed to calm her. If Vinnie were here, she’d punch him. Hard.
A hand clamped on her shoulder. Whirling, Missy prepared herself to take the person’s head off. Antoine said, “Perhaps you should sit.”
“Huh?”
“You’re flushed. Too much excitement for one day I think. Why don’t you treat yourself to a massage? I have the perfect person. You will feel like you died and went to heaven.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet overflowing with business cards.
“No, thank you. Someone touching any part of my body is the last thing I need, Antoine.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you should try and enjoy today’s peacefulness since the wedding is tomorrow.”
All of a sudden the workers began to file out. The last one said something to Antoine as he passed her. The wedding planner nodded then followed, closing the door behind him.
Finally. Silence.
In celebration, the first thing Missy did was to liberate Hugo in from the garage. The poor thing, panting and confused, ambled toward the kitchen no doubt for a drink of cold water.
Missy followed. She could use a glass of iced tea.
At the doorway, she stopped. They’d taken her kitchen table and chairs and replaced it with a stingy folding table! At that moment, the phone rang. She snatched it up, thoughts of murder high on her wish list. “What?”
Val asked, “Are they gone?”
Looking around the room, the near empty room, she said, “Finally.”
“Do you want to grab some lunch after you pick up your suit?”
Oh, crap. The wedding suit. Missy made a frantic glance at the clock on the wall, which read eleven thirty. The seamstress shop closed at noon.
“Pick up your suit then meet me at Maddy’s.”
The small deli and boutique teashop in the heart of Lighthouse Bay was one of their favorite places for lunch as it offered basic salads and soups, all light fare. And that was good, because Missy couldn’t look or feel bloated tomorrow. She glanced down at Hugo, who now lay at her feet. “I have one more thing to do after the suit.”
“Oh, right. The dog.”
“Yup.”
Hugo’s head spun around to look at her. Missy turned her back to him. “I swear he has radar and knows when I’m talking about him.”
Val laughed. “Do you need help getting him into the car? I know how much he hates being boarded.”
“No. I think I’ll be okay. See you at Maddy’s in about half an hour.”
After patting her hip, Hugo followed her to the staircase in the hallway. She sat on the second step to fasten his harness and leash in place. “Listen, buddy, I know you don’t understand, but I have to drop you at Dr. Reed’s.” At the sound of the veterinarian’s name, Hugo’s tail wagged. “Yes, I know you like her, so do I, but you won’t be coming home with me today or tomorrow.”
Hugo tilted his adorable head in question.
“Cara’s wedding is tomorrow.”
At the sound of Cara’s name, he turned in excited circles. He’d taken to her daughter as easily as he’d taken to her. “Yes, she’s coming home for her special day.” Only you won’t see her because you’re spending the next two nights at the vet’s kennel.
Missy leaned forward and took the dog’s face in her hands, then met his eyes, which dripped with adoration and broke her heart even more. “Do you know how much I love you?”
He licked her cheek.
“Because I do. I really do. Okay. Let’s go.”
As they walked to the car, sadness gripped her. Tonight and tomorrow night would be excruciatingly lonely without her best friend sleeping beside her. She opened the door to the back seat and patted the leather. Hugo obediently jumped into the car and sat on the throw cover she left there just for him. Walking around to the driver’s side, she slid into her seat and fastened her belt.
When she glanced back at Hugo, he tilted his head in question. Animals were so innocent, and he trusted her. Her heart ached at deceiving him. She started the ignition and pulled into traffic. If boarding Hugo was in his best interest, why did she feel like such a creep?
Chapter Five
At ten o’clock on the morning of the wedding, Missy stepped back to appreciate the work Ann and two other ladies they employed part-time had done to transform the foyer in her home. It was more beautiful than she could have hoped. The bannister, wrapped with white crinoline, pale green ribbon and yellow roses, would be the perfect venue to convey Cara down the steps.
Missy hugged her dear friend and business partner. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll see you later.” Ann and the other ladies collected the empty cardboard boxes and left. Standing in the foyer the emptiness of the house and absence of Hugo filled Missy with sadness.
Cara’s entrance and the slamming of the front door woke her from her daze.
“You’re early.”
The smile on Missy’s face quickly disappeared. Cara had been crying. Her daughter blew her nose into a tissue and nodded.
Missy looked around the newly redecorated room. “Come over here. Sit. Honey, tell me what’s wrong.”
At the wrong moment, naturally, Vinnie breezed in. When he saw his daughter crying, he hurried over to her. “What’s the matter? What did he do?”
“I’ve been trying to find out,” Missy sniped.
Twisting the tissue between her fingers, Cara whispered, “I don’t think I can marry him.”
Oh, dear God, no.
Vinnie knelt in front of Cara. “Whatever you want, sweetie. Your mother and I are behind you all the way.”
Threatening murder, Missy rolled her eyes in his direction, but said, “I’m sure you don’t mean that, honey.”
Her daughter cried harder.
“What happened?” Vinnie asked again.
“We haven’t seen each other in weeks. What with his job and mine.” Cara blew her nose and shot them both a glance. “We argue about everything.”
Discomfort slammed at Missy like a flat iron. With their volatile history, no wonder Cara compared herself and Dan to her parents.
“Last night I asked him to be home early so we could have a nice dinner together, you know since we haven’t seen each other and our wedding is today.” Cara got up only to pace the living room. “Not only didn’t he come home until after midnight, but he didn’t even call to say he’d be late. I sat in the dining room like an idiot waiting and waiting. He didn’t even answer his cell.”
“You said work had him bogged down,” Missy said, “and to get away for the honeymoon, he’d have to work a lot of late nights.”
Cara frowned. “Even I took the day off, Mom. And I never take time off.”
Missy nodded.
Vinnie said nothing but the anger in his eyes was vivid. Missy hoped he would be quiet and not interject. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing.
“Anyway, when he got home, I was mad and hurt.”
“That’s understandable,” Missy said.
“Not to him. He told me to get over it, walked into the bedroom, grabbed some clothes and left. I had to clean up everything by myself. I’ve never seen this side of him before.”
Shooting Missy an, I’ll take care of this. look, Vinnie stood, then walked to Cara. “Couples have arguments all the time, honey. It’s completely normal.”
“What are you saying?” Missy asked.
He put up a hand to stop her. “I’ve got this.”
She pushed past him. “Who are you to give marital advice?”
He turned on her. “She is this way because of you!”
“Mom? Dad?”
Ignoring her daughter’s question, Missy zoned in on Vinnie with a shriek. “What did I do?”
“You spoiled her. Did everything for her. Christ, she never wanted for a thing.”
When Missy pushed one finger into his hard chest, he took a step backward. “That’s what a good parent does! Not that you’d know, since all your time was spent on the sofa!”
His mouth dropped open. “I was a good father.”
“And I was a better mother.” Something made her look to where Cara had been standing. Her daughter wasn’t there. Missy looked in the kitchen, and the dining room. Still, no Cara.
Vinnie opened the front door. “She’s gone.”
Missy glared at him. Despite all his claims to the contrary, he hadn’t changed. Sticking his nose in when he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. “Are you happy?”
He ran a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture of impatience. “What are we doing?”
Missy sat at one of the small white tables. “Acting the only way we know how.”
His voice cracked. “No.”
She met his eyes.
“That was the old us.”
“We haven’t changed,” she whispered, “don’t you see?”
He shook his head. “Yes, we have. I know I have.” He paced. “Damn it!” He hit the wall softly.
“I’ll give her a little while to calm down,” Missy said. “Then I’ll call her.”
“Okay, you do that. Just
like always.”
Vinnie closed the door behind him. The emptiness of the house closed in on her as hot tears streamed down Missy’s face.
“Why the hell am I crying?” she whispered. “For Cara and Dan whom I know love each other? Or for my idiot ex for disappointing me once more?”
****
Vinnie found Cara sipping coffee at Jake’s Java Hut two blocks from their house. He hesitated before going inside and, a moment later, stood in front of her table. The place was a hub of activity and the scent of cinnamon swirled around him. A large screen television played in the corner, tables were scattered about. There was even a coffee bar with stools and an oversized couch in the corner. Soft rock played in the background with the tinkling of the occasional cash register.
Cara’s glance darted around the café before she stared up at him. “This is a public place. You can’t yell.”
He nodded in acquiescence. “Can I sit?”
“Okay.” She gripped the coffee cup so tightly he thought it might spill.
“Relax, honey, I won’t embarrass you.”
Her shoulders eased and she sunk back into her chair.
“I want to talk.”
Cara nodded.
“I think you’re making a mistake to call off the wedding.”
When she shook her head, Vinnie raised a hand. “Please, let me finish.”
Cara blew out a deep breath.
“I admit your mother and I have argued our share in the past.”
She frowned.
“Okay, we fought a lot. But that’s over.”
“It didn’t look like it a few minutes ago.”
He steepled his fingers. “I know, and that was all my fault.”
She looked surprised.
“I should have let your mom talk to you and not interrupted her. She’s a smart lady and an excellent parent.”
Cara nodded. “Yes, she is.”
“I know.” He met her eyes. “I’ve always been envious of the way she juggled a full time work schedule and was still there for you and your brother.” He smirked. “Most of our arguments originated from my jealousy.” He shook his head in disgust. “I had a lot of growing up to do.”
Cara put her cup down and leaned in toward him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Dad.”