by Rebeca Seitz
“Not as good as I look in pale blue.”
“Eww, pale blue? You’ve got the nursery vibe happening again. Ooh, are you pregnant?”
“No, still nothing.” Joy’s voice lost its lilt, and Tandy frowned at the phone. “We’re trying. Actually, we’re trying like crazy.”
“Yuck. Yuck. Too much information.”
“Tandy, we’re married. We’re allowed to try to get pregnant.”
“Yep, and I’m allowed to live in blissful ignorance and continue believing that all of your children will be delivered the same way Meg’s were: by the stork.”
“So long as you’re happy, then.”
“Thanks. It’s good of you to know what’s important.”
“You know, sometimes I wonder about you.”
“Only sometimes?”
“All right, nearly every moment of every day. Though I’ll admit my concern has been somewhat lessened since our dear Clay put that lovely diamond on your finger.”
Tandy held up her hand and admired the glint of light off of her engagement ring. “It is something, isn’t it?”
“A one-of-a-kind, designed-by-the-groom-himself ring? Yes, I’d say that’s something.”
“Which is why I’ve got to do well in planning this wedding. So back to pale gold. Not your color, hmm?”
“To be honest, I’m not certain what that will look like on me. But if it’s the color you love, then it’s the color I’ll wear.”
“Aww, you’re the bestest sister ever.”
“Be sure you call Meg and Kendra with that news.”
“Will do. Bye, sis.”
“Bye.”
Tandy hung up the phone and considered the magazine again, tilting her head and nibbling her lower lip. The color really would look great in morning light. And at least two of the three sisters would be pretty in it.
She tore the page from the magazine and added it to a manila folder labeled “Wedding.”
She continued to flip through the magazine, tearing out pages of various wedding accoutrements. Within about half an hour, she had a pretty good idea of what kind of cake she wanted (rolled fondant with simple pearls on top, five-tier), which dress would best fit the type of ceremony she’d chosen (evening pearl instead of stark white and clean lines, no sequins or butt bows for her), and which tuxes the guys should wear (ivory all the way, no tails, elegant yet informal enough for morning).
There were still tons of decisions to make, like what food they would serve, what music would play at which times in the ceremony, how many invitations to send out, picking out an invitation, registering at which stores in Nashville, and a host of other possibilities.
Tandy pushed off from the desk and swung her chair in a circle, then turned her head to take in the image of Cooper sprawled beside her. “Coop, this wedding stuff takes forever to plan.”
Cooper aimed his sad basset eyes her way, and she shifted to scratch him with her toe, grateful she could bring her dog to work. “You’re the best dog in the world, Cooper. Are you ready to move into Clay’s place? You’ll go nuts with all those smells from the diner below.”
Cooper sighed a loud doggy noise, and Tandy reached to scratch his leg joints, knowing that was one of his favorite places to get lovings.
“Your old joints doing okay, boy? Did the glucosamine help? I don’t think that lady at the shelter knew it would come on this fast.”
Cooper rolled his head toward her, and she scratched his ears. “Poor little guy. Bet your basset ancestors dealt with the same problem.”
She finished scratching and sat back up. “Let’s get back to it, puppy dog. These details aren’t going to take care of themselves!” Humming a Martina McBride tune, Tandy flipped back through the magazine. “I wonder where Clay’s taking me on our honeymoon, Coop? You think he’ll remember to make arrangements for you?” A quick glance down revealed Coop’s shuttered eyes. He was solidly back in dreamworld.
Might as well make sure.
She dialed the diner and waited for Clay to pick up.
“Clay’s Diner.”
“Hey, sweetie, it’s me.”
“Hey, you! What’s shaking?”
“Not too much. Just going through wedding magazines, and I realized I hadn’t reminded you that we’ll need to check Cooper in at the doggy spa for our honeymoon.”
“Already taken care of.”
“How did you already take care of it when we just settled the date this morning?”
“As soon as we had a date, I called them. Thought I’d remove any excuse you may come up with to change the date on me.”
“Now why would I change the date?”
“Because you’re female and that’s what females do?”
“I’m hanging up now,” she growled.
“Wait, before you go, are we going to Heartland tomorrow night?”
“Sure. Kendra and Darin are coming and, besides, I need a reminder of why I’m enduring these wedding-planning headaches.”
“It’s because you love me.”
Tandy sighed melodramatically. “I suppose I do. It’s my lot in life.”
“Poor soul. Pick you up at seven?”
“See ya then.”
Here came that silly grin again. The man’s ability to make her giddy bordered on ridiculous. But in just two short months she’d be standing by his side, swearing to love him until death parted them. This time last year, nobody— including her, in all honesty—would have ever guessed that the next August would find her living in Stars Hill, running a business, and planning a wedding.
“Hey, sis!”
Tandy turned to see Meg coming in the back door. “Hey! What are you doing here in the middle of the day? Where are the kiddos?”
“At home with a sitter. I needed some adult time.” Meg plopped down in Kendra’s chair and propped her sandal-clad feet on the desk.
Tandy wrinkled her nose and pointed. “I can tell. What happened to your hair?”
Meg reached up and patted the oddly placed tiny ponytails that sprouted all over the front half of her head. “Oh! Savannah wanted to play beauty salon and needed a live model.” She began taking out the small hair bands.
“And let me guess. You forgot they were even there when you left home.”
“It’s hard enough to get out of the house without them all knowing I’m leaving and pitching a fit to come with me. What my hair looked like was the least of my concerns.”
“Ah, I see. Is this the fun married life I have to look forward to?”
Meg removed the last of the bands and stuffed them in the pocket of her khaki shorts. “Yep. Tempting, isn’t it?”
Tandy knew she was joking but thought about it for a second. “You know, it really is.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “I think you’ve been looking at those magazines too long.” She gestured to the piles of bridal magazines threatening to topple off Tandy’s desk. “They make it seem like an effortless happily ever after, but you’ve got to know that it isn’t that way in real life. It’s like Martina sings, ‘I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. Along with the sunshine—”
Tandy joined in. “There’s gotta be a little rain sometime.” They laughed together, and Tandy closed the magazine in front of her, kicking her feet up on the desk as well. “Yeah, I know it’s not all sunshine and roses, but I’d rather be with Clay during the storms than live back in Orlando with sunshine all the time. Aren’t you that way with Jamison?”
“Most of the time, yes.”
“Most of the time?”
“Well, yeah. There are some days I’d like nothing better than to lock the man in the basement and have the whole house to myself for a few hours.”
“I think they already did that on Desperate Housewives.”
“That wasn’t her husband; it was her son. And I wouldn’t keep him there for days, just long enough so I could take a long bath and a nap.” Meg wiggled her eyebrows, making Tandy laugh.
“If you’re so ti
red, how could you summon the energy to wrestle him to the basement?”
“Ah, the logical lawyer still lurks, eh? I guess you’re right. I don’t have the energy to do my own hair, much less manhandle my husband into the basement.”
“Are you still tired all the time?”
Meg sighed and leaned back in the red leather chair. “Yeah. I try hard to get eight hours of sleep like all the magazines tell us to, but that’s almost impossible with three kids, one of whom still doesn’t sleep through the night. And even when Hannah does make it through the night, I still feel exhausted the next morning.” She shrugged. “I guess my body isn’t getting into deep sleep because my subconscious is waiting on a kiddo to wake up and need me.”
“But Hannah’s almost a year old now!”
“Yep, a year at the end of this month, actually.”
“And she still doesn’t sleep through the night?”
“It comes and goes. We’ll go a couple of weeks with no nighttime waking; and then, bam, she’s back to getting up at three in the morning.”
“Wow, that sounds tough.”
“It can be, but I wouldn’t trade a thing in the world for them.”
“You’re a better woman than I am.”
“Nope, I’m just a mom. You wait. You’ll get there, too, and then you’ll be the one all bleary-eyed with ponytails sticking up all over.” Meg rolled her eyes.
“No, I think I’ll just shave my head when I have kids. Much easier that way.”
“I tried. Joy refused,” Meg deadpanned.
Tandy’s eyes widened before she realized Meg’s joke. “Oh, that’s rich!”
Meg waved the idea away. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just as well. Jamison loves long hair and would have totally freaked if I’d done it. Anyway, I didn’t come over here to gripe about my home life. Savannah’s birthday is at the end of this month, and I’m planning her party. Can you be there on the 30th?”
“Sure! What do I need to bring?”
“Nothing but your smiling self and the new VeggieTales video.”
“Oh! The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything?”
“Yep!”
“No worries, I’ve got it covered. We’re having this at your house, right?”
“Right again.” Meg stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her shorts. “I’m off to rent a jump-a-tron now for it.” She turned to go.
“Hey, Meg?”
Meg turned back. “Yeah?”
“Did you buy Kendra’s story?”
“About not having a pattern, or not being involved with that man that Joy saw?”
“Both.”
“No.”
Tandy dropped her feet to the floor and pulled herself back up to the desk. “Me neither.”
* * *
KENDRA STOOD IN the shower, all vestige of sadness gone for now, replaced by the anticipation of seeing Darin in just a little while and the sound of John Legend telling her “Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing” on the stereo. Much better than Al Green. She made a mental note to stay away from Al for a while. Her heart felt bruised and battered from yesterday’s avalanche of emotion.
Dancing with Darin at Heartland would be a blast because he made things so easy. Of course, tonight might not be as easy as usual since he wanted to have “the talk.” Kendra squeezed her body wash bottle and lathered up the poof. She simply wouldn’t think about that right now. Right now, she’d focus on the fact that a gorgeous man with a heart of gold was set to pick her up soon. Right now, she’d remember that tonight this gorgeous man wanted to dance with her. And right now, she’d think about making herself pretty for him.
Singing along with the music, she made quick work of the shower, allowing herself only a few minutes to stand in the massaging spray while the deep conditioner did its work beneath the plastic baggie on her head. No time for too much luxury right now. Tonight felt like an impending battle, and she had war paint to apply.
She wiped the steam from the mirror and took stock. Despite passing thirty, there were very few lines in her face. Unlike Sylvia.
No. No thoughts about her birth mother.
Another voice filled her mind: “You haven’t been acting like the confident, sassy woman I met four months ago.” There was a sting of rightness in Darin’s words, and that demanded a change. She had been letting childhood wreak havoc with her present again. Time for that to stop.
She picked up a jar of moisturizer and applied it over her face and neck. The light scent of wisteria reminded her of Daddy and Momma’s house. That was more like it. Childhood with Marian and Jack Sinclair had been light-years better than her days with Sylvia.
Stop thinking of her, Kendra. Focus on the here and now. She stole a quick glance at the small clock that rested on a ledge beneath the mirror. Darin would be here in twenty minutes—barely enough time to get her makeup on and her hair set. Thank goodness she’d picked an outfit before jumping into the shower.
Swiping eye shadow across her lids, Kendra mentally threw off the chains of her past. Again.
She finished both eyes, then picked up the mascara wand and enhanced her already thick lashes. No need for falsies tonight. No time even if she did want them. Blinking rapidly to dry the mascara, she made her way into the bedroom and eyed the ensemble lying on the bed. The pale yellow dress would accentuate her caramel-colored skin and dark hair. Its short skirt was long enough not to embarrass her if Daddy and Zelda were there yet short enough to show off her legs when Darin twirled her around the dance floor.
Perfect.
She pulled the dress over her head and turned to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” She turned this way and that to ensure the dress looked good from all angles. If she was going to have a conversation she’d rather avoid, then at least she could look good doing it.
Sitting down on the bed, she pulled brown boots on her feet. Dancing at Heartland demanded nothing less than broken-in boots with heels good for stomping. A few of her signature bangle bracelets and a pair of white hoop earrings completed her look.
Ready for battle or anything else the night chose to dump on her, Kendra left the bedroom. Miss Kitty looked up from her spot on the back of the sofa as Kendra sailed into the living room.
“Okay, Miss Kitty,” Kendra twirled around, feeling the dress swirl around her legs, “what do you think of your momma?”
Miss Kitty opened one eye in her best imitation of the Cheshire Cat, then began licking her paws.
“Oh, sure, sit there with your high-and-mighty self. That’s all right. That’s okay. I don’t need your affirmation.”
Miss Kitty looked at her again, then began cleaning the other paw.
Kendra put her hands on her hips, “Hey, Miss Thang. A little attention to the one who buys that high-priced food you love and cleans your litter box.”
Miss Kitty stopped licking, looked at Kendra, then hopped down off the couch. She pranced across the living room and twirled herself in between Kendra’s ankles, purring all the while.
Kendra relented and picked her up. “There we go. That’s what I thought.” She rubbed the soft furry head. “Sitting over there like you’re the queen of this castle. You keep in mind, I’m the queen.” She nuzzled close to the cat’s ear. “You’re the princess.”
A knock at the door stopped the lovefest, and Kendra set Miss Kitty back on the couch. “Now you keep an eye on the place tonight and don’t let any of those street cats in the door, missy, you hear?” She opened the front door. “Hi.”
Darin’s purple button-up set off his dark eyes, which were sparkling at her. “Wow, hey. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her pulse kicked up. “Come on in. I just need to grab my purse.”
Darin stepped inside, his brown cowboy boots sounding on the hardwood entryway. “Sure, take your time. I’m a little early.”
Kendra went to the kitchen and snatched her purse up off the table. “Ready!” she called, coming back through t
he doorway. But Darin wasn’t standing by the door anymore. He sat on the couch with Miss Kitty in his lap purring louder than an outboard.
Kendra stopped. Stared. What on earth … ? “You realize she hates men, right?”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Darin tipped the cat back onto the couch and came over to her, palms in the air in innocence.
“She came over to say hello, I promise. I was only returning the favor.”
“Hmm, I guess she’s gotten used to seeing you.”
“Good.” He reached around her and opened the door. “At least one of you has. Ready to hit the dance floor?”
Should she let that comment go? Maybe go ahead and have the tough conversation now so they could either get it behind them and have a good night, or break up and move on?
Is it a breakup if you aren’t already exclusively seeing each other?
“Kendra?”
She blinked. “Sorry. Yes, let’s go.” She walked ahead of him into the hallway and down the staircase to the front door, her boot heels clicking with his on the hardwood stairs.
Outside the August air enveloped them like a warm blanket. Kendra’s bare arms took in the warmth as they walked across the grass to his Barracuda. Should she say something when he got in the car? Wouldn’t it ruin the evening to have this thing hanging between them the whole night?
Darin opened her door and helped her into the car, facts she barely registered as she debated in her mind. Darin was an honest, up-front guy. He’d probably appreciate her tackling the subject head-on instead of waiting around with bated breath. Then again, if she told him she wanted to keep seeing other people, he’d ask if she was seeing anyone else. And no way would the words “Yeah, but he’s married” come out of her mouth.
Darin cleared his throat, and she realized they were sitting in silence.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
His teasing tone was an open invitation to share. But sharing was dangerous right now. Dangerous most of the time, really. “Yeah, thinking about that painting for Tandy.”
If I have to lie, shouldn’t I question the relationship?