Risking Ruin

by Mae Wood

  Marisa’s stomach turned into a knot. Well, at least he’s being honest unlike Paul who just decided to fuck that bartender behind my back.

  “I told you I was seeing Amelia last year. So, don’t freak out on me that there might be some stuff of hers in the bathroom. I don’t really take care of the house. I hadn’t noticed the stuff and I guess Ophelia either didn’t notice it or didn’t get rid of it. Either way, that’s a long time ago.”

  Great, now I look like a crazy person.

  “I’m just going to lay all of my cards on the table and ask you to listen. Just listen to me and if you only want to have a professional relationship going forward, then I’ll deal with it. Okay?”

  Marisa gave Trip a quick nod, but remained mute.

  “Thank you. I think about you all of the time, Marisa. I told you that I stopped seeing Amelia last fall. And that is absolutely the truth. What I didn’t tell you is that I was very close to asking her to marry me. She’s nice, but she doesn’t make me laugh and we don’t have anything in common. But I was thirty-six, so I decided I needed to settle. I’m emphasizing settle. I even went ring shopping.”

  Marisa’s stared at her hands, which were folded on the table in front of her. She knew that if she looked at him, she would cry.

  “I told my parents I was going to ask Amelia to marry me after dinner one night. My dad was fine with it. Something about how she’d make a fine wife and mother. My mom kicked my dad out of the living room and made me sit down on the sofa next to her. She wanted to know why I wanted to marry Amelia. I told her that I was getting older, that Amelia came from a nice family, that we could have holidays with the Duquettes and certainly she’d like that, and that I wanted to be able to give her grandchildren.

  “Then my mom started crying. She asked if I was doing this for her. I denied it, but she knew. She told me that she didn’t want me settling for anything less than a woman who made my heart sing. My mom knows me better than myself sometimes and I think she knew that my heart just wasn’t in it. She said I was the most precious thing in her life and she doesn’t want me for one minute to be unhappy or to spend the rest of my life with someone who I don’t truly love. I’ll admit that seeing her like that and her saying those things to me, I started crying, too. I just want to make her happy and she assured me that the only way to really make her happy was for me to be happy myself. She asked me if I thought about Amelia all the time. She asked if Amelia made me happy. She asked if Amelia made me laugh. She asked if I loved her. I could only shake my head to all of her questions. She had nodded and told me that when I meet someone I can’t get out of my head and can’t stay away from, then I need to be an absolute angel to that girl because that is the girl she wants for a daughter.

  “I went back to the house that night and Amelia was there. As you’ve figured out, she’d pretty much moved in around Labor Day. Listen, I never asked her to move in. It just kind of happened slowly and I never pushed back. I thought this was just how things were going to be. Anyway, if you want details you can have them, but I ended it. It wasn’t pretty. There was a lot of crying and anger and then she marched upstairs. I thought she was getting her clothes and things. She came back downstairs with a couple of bags and threw a box at me. So, you’re not the first woman to throw something at me in a fit of rage, Marisa,” said Trip, trying to interject some lightness in the conversation.

  Except it failed. Marisa remained a statue, eyes down on her hands.

  “It was the box with the ring I’d bought for her. I’d kept it my study, so I’m not sure why she was in there digging through my desk drawers, but she’d found it. She kept crying hysterically, called me names, and eventually I just called George and asked him to help her get home. It was one of the worst nights of my life, Marisa. Until the PI caught her at that support group meeting, I didn’t think Amelia was a bad person. Hell, I didn’t even think she was very smart. And she’s never been you.

  “You’re who I thought about when my mom asked me about whether I thought about Amelia all the time. I didn’t think about Amelia. I thought about you all the time, but in some screwed up fantasy way. You were this really pretty and determined woman who ran by my house nearly every day. It even snowed in January and there you were running by. I think you even had on hiking boots or something because it was really slick out. Anyway, I didn’t know you and wasn’t sure how to meet you without coming across as a stalker, so I just let you be my unknowing breakfast companion.

  “Then, when I took over John’s role, he was getting me up to speed on the pending litigation, the legal side of the business transactions and tax issues, and going over all of the firms the company uses. He really said wonderful things about you and your firm, Marisa. About how smart you were, how you were determined and creative and how you got great results for us. He told me that you were one of the very few lawyers that he didn’t mind being stuck with in a windowless conference room for a day. If that isn’t high praise, I don’t know what is.

  “So, back in my office later, I was pulling up attorney profiles on firm websites to get a little more bio information on folks. When I pulled yours up, I wasn’t quite sure how to react. I knew it was you and I really wanted to meet you. So, I set up a meet and greet with my dad. I’d booked a table for lunch at company cafeteria for three people. Then, I remembered my mom telling me that I’d better be good to you, so I called Paulette’s and made a reservation for two. Yes, I completely kicked my dad out of lunch with you.

  “You walked in my dad’s office and it was over for me. You weren’t wearing an engagement or wedding ring. I had to talk with you and didn’t give a damn about what you said about the law. With John’s glowing praise, I already knew I was going to keep your firm and I knew you would have the new lawsuit under control, so I just wanted to get some one on one time with you. I really like you, Marisa. I always have a good time with you and I’m not talking about sex, or no-sex, either. So, that’s it. I’m being completely honest with you. I really want to give us a try,” he concluded reaching over to enclose her hands in his.

  “What else can I tell you?”

  “How did you know I liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches?,” Marisa said in a voice barely above a whisper, but without removing her gaze from her hands.

  Trip snorted and turned beet red. “Well, that’s easy, but also embarrassing,” he said, firmly grasping Marisa’s hands, “but I promised you honesty, so here goes. I kind of plugged the guys for every detail they could tell me about the triathlon. Bert said that you were a double-knotter of your shoelaces and ran your ass off to fend someone else from crossing the finish line before you did. Sid said you had brought some snacks in your bag and shared them while y’all were having beers afterwards and you’d sworn that peanut butter and banana sandwiches were the perfect food for post-run. Have I sufficiently creeped you out now? I’m the first to admit that I’m chasing you hard and if I’ve crossed into stalker territory, I’m not really that sorry. I don’t like losing. I like winning, Marisa, and I like you."

  They sat in silence for a minute. Marisa wiggled her hands out from underneath Trip’s and stood. She looked at him her face a frozen mask. Trip’s head fell and his broad shoulders slumped. Another long moment passed. Marisa walked to stand behind Trip’s chair. She bent down near his ear and whispered. “Sid was wrong. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches are the best anytime you need energy.”

  Trip’s head shot up. He spun around to face Marisa. “What,” but before he could get another word out of his mouth, Marisa captured his lips with hers and ran her fingers through his fine blonde hair.

  Trip swept Marisa into his chest and held her tight against him. “Please say this means that we still have a shot.”

  Marisa laughed into Trip’s neck. “Yes. I’m sorry about before. If you want details, I’ll give them to you, but let’s just say that I also thought I was about to get engaged and then I came home to find him in bed with someone else.”

  “
Are you kidding me? What asshole would do that? Sucks to be him and I’m happy for his piss-poor judgment.”

  “Man, you really know how to woo a girl,” said Marisa.

  “You know what I mean. Unless, you want me to tell you again.” Marisa blushed. He is just so irresistibly charming. “I’ll take that pause for a request. So, yes, Marisa Tanner, you are quiet lovely. You take my breath away with your beauty. You make me laugh. You’re smart and determined. You are always on my mind. I want to be with you all the time. And most of all, you just feel like home to me.”

  With that Trip cupped Marisa’s chin and drew their faces together. As their lips touched, Marisa melted into him. I’m head over heels for this guy. When did this happen? “Now, let’s get you some real food in you and you can tell me about your long run. It must have been long. I’ve been sitting in your damn lobby for three hours.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Marisa woke up alone in her bed on Tuesday morning. She went for a run and then dressed for work. She and Trip had gone for pizza and beers at Flying Saucer for Monday night dinner, and then Trip dropped her back off at her front door. Marisa had invited him in. But, he had declined, begging off due to an early flight out to the dollhouse furniture factory in Michigan. He’d had to reschedule a meeting set for Monday and it couldn’t keep until later in the week.

  Marisa’s next week went by slowly. She deposed a plaintiff in a race discrimination case brought against another client, conducted a few telephone conference calls, and generally pushed paper. After a long run on Saturday morning, she headed out to her parents’ house in Collierville. But, first she was headed for lunch with Erica at Mabel’s in Germantown. When she arrived, she found Erica not at the counter, but in a small booth with Miriam in tow. “Risa!”, Miriam squealed, flinging herself at Marisa and squeezing her with a tight hug.

  “Hey there, too, sweetie,” said Marisa. “It is so good to see you. I didn’t know you were going to get to come have lunch with us.” Over the little girl’s head Marisa’s eyes met Erica’s with a question. Erica’s only response was to hold up her hands and shrug. Marisa gave her a quick nod in understanding that their girls’ lunch was now definitely more family-oriented.

  “Yes,” replied Miriam, with a huge smile on her face. “Mommy says this is a Ladies’ Lunch and if I’m a big girl, I can get ice cream and pink polish on my toes after dinner.”

  “Whoa, ice cream twice in a day. I guess you’ll have to be really good.”

  “Yes, I can do it,” beamed Miriam.

  “I went ahead and ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Thanks. It’s not like my order has changed in the past fifteen years.”

  “So, how are you feeling?”

  “Are you sick, Risa?”

  “No, honey, Marisa is not sick. Why don’t you play on my iPhone while Mommy wins mother of the year.” Miriam happily accepted the iPhone and quickly became entranced.

  “We’ve got like three minutes before her brain starts hearing everything we say, so speak quickly but in code, okay?”

  “Sure. Trip is, well, Trip is a complete trip. He’s got some complicated stuff going on with his business that I can’t talk about, but we’re good. We’re in a good place. He makes me happy.”

  “You guys still keeping it PG-13?”

  “Yes, for now. I know we need to work that out and soon because you’re right. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown if we don’t.”

  “You’ve got it bad, eh?”

  Marisa nodded solemnly. “Yes. Really bad.”

  “Great. So, he’ll be at dinner tomorrow night, then?”

  “It is already nearly October already? I didn’t realize.”

  “For you to lose track of your calendar like that, I’d say that you are in deep. And yes, dinner as normal at my house around six o’clock. My boys have demanded meatloaf, so be prepared for my attempt at that.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “What? Going to Folk’s Folly was okay, but my house isn’t?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Weren’t you at Folk’s Folly with him?”

  “Yes, but how did you know that?”

  “You’d be amazed what I can learn just by being a fly on the wall at PTO meetings. One of the other mothers in Simon’s class is a complete busybody. She even runs some gossipy Memphis blog. Kind of like Page Six but for Memphis. It’s really stupid. I don’t ever follow it. But, she was talking about her blog and mentioned that she was dying to find out who Trip Brannon’s new mystery girl is. I heard his name and perked up. I went home and googled her blog. Sure enough, there is an item about Trip Brannon making out with someone in the middle of Folk’s Folly.” Marisa’s mouth fell open and her eyes turned into saucers. “Good bit is that you were called ‘a brunette beauty.’ Hello, Marisa, you still with me?”

  Marisa shook her head and blinked slowly. “Are you sh. . . kidding me?”

  “I wish I were, but I’m not. You guys need to sort out your permission slip thingy ASAP.”

  “Are you going on a field trip, Risa?,” asked Miriam, her eyes glued to the phone’s tiny screen. “My mommy can sign your permission slip. She signs them for me and Simon.” Marisa blushed.

  “Oh sweetie,” said Erica, pulling her daughter in close for a snuggle. “I would love to sign Marisa’s permission slip more than anything, but Marisa is a grown up and has to handle that herself. Now, let’s see if we can flag down that waitress and get our lunch.”

  After dinner at Café Piazza with her parents, Marisa’s dad carried her overnight bag upstairs and her mom cornered her in the kitchen. “Don’t run off. I need help with these cupcakes. We’re having a little social tomorrow at the church and I’m supposed to bring four dozen mini cupcakes. I also hope you brought something to wear other than running clothes.”

  “Yes, last time I was out, Dad gave me the heads up that I was going to church next time, so I packed church clothes.”

  “Good girl. Now, why don’t you start on making some frosting.”

  “What kind of cupcakes are we making?”

  “Strawberry and then I saw in Southern Living a recipe for caramel with sea salt, so I’m going to make some of those, too. If you can start the strawberry frosting, that would be great. The cream cheese and butter are on the kitchen table at room temperature.”

  Marisa and her mom got to work mixing and baking. Her dad stuck his head into the kitchen. “How are my two favorite girls?”

  “Busy. I’m not sure how these sea salt caramel ones are going to turn out, but the strawberry ones are already cooling and Marisa has them under control.”

  “Great. I’m going to fix myself a nightcap. What can I fix my girls?”

  “I’ll have a tiny glass of white wine, sweetie,” replied Marisa’s mom.

  “Do we have any bourbon in the house?”

  “I sure do,” said Marisa’s dad. He rooted around in the cabinet above the fridge. “Maker’s Mark good with you?”

  “Sure,” said Marisa, as she slathered pink frosting on top of a petite cupcake.

  “Since when do you drink bourbon? Is this the triathlon guy’s doing?”

  Marisa’s mother put down her wooden spoon. “Triathlon guy? Marisa, are you dating some one?”

  “Sorry about that, Champ. How do you like your bourbon?,” continued her dad.

  “Neat is perfect,” said Marisa, ignoring the laser beams shooting from her mother’s eyes that were trying to peer into her soul.

  Marisa’s dad quirked his head at her and smiled. “Color me impressed. He’s been has been teaching you well.”

  “Excuse me, you two, but Marisa, I asked you a question. Are you seeing someone?”

  Marisa turned back to the cupcakes and picked up another to frost. “Yes. I don’t know how serious it is, but I have been seeing someone. Before you get too excited let me tell you that I’ve only known him a little over a month. We’re not engaged
. We’re not moving in together. After Paul, I’m taking things slowly.”

  Marisa’s mother’s hands moved to her hips. “Okay, dear one. I get it. I don’t need to start knitting baby blankets. Can I at least have a name of this man?”

  “His name is Trip. We met through work. He has a law degree, but mainly focuses on running his family’s business. He likes to cycle and I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “Is he nice to you?,” asked her mom.

  “Yes, he is very kind to me and is treating me right. Took me to Folk’s Folly for dinner. Picked me up at my condo and dropped me back off.” I definitely don’t need to tell them that I then got back in his car and went to his house for the night.

  “Great. We’ll have Sunday dinner at one o’clock tomorrow. He’s welcome to join us at church before then, but it will be nice to have him at the table.”

  “Mom, I’m not inviting Trip over for Sunday dinner. I don’t even know if he’s back in town. He’s been traveling a lot for work.”

  “Sounds like he’ll need a good home-cooked meal if he’s back in town, then. Just ask him. For me, please? I think I deserve to meet the man who is making your cheeks turn pinker than those cupcakes.”

  “Fine.” Marisa shot daggers at her dad.

  “Here’s your bourbon, sweetie. And I have to say, I’m also interested to meet the man who is teaching you to drink.”

  After Marisa and her mom finished the cupcakes and drinks, Marisa’s mom trundled off to bed and Marisa excused herself to the front porch, leaving her dad parked in front of a Mississippi State football game on the TV. She sat on the wooden swing and dialed Trip’s number.

  “Trip Brannon.”

  “Trip, it’s Marisa. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “No, in fact this is perfect timing. I just got back to the house and was thinking of calling you.”

  “Long week?”