My son’s eyes grew wide. “Old Mr. Myers asked her out on a date.”
I looked at the corner with no tables. Grandma was, as she said, “cutting a rug” with old Mr. Myers, who had more wrinkles than a Shar Pei and had already buried three wives. The whole town was making a big deal about his hundredth-year birthday coming up soon. The oldest citizen in Silver City, not to mention one of the richest, too. “They’d better make it quick or he might not be around to blow out the candles.”
“Did she say yes?” Jennifer asked in a horrified tone of voice.
“No,” Zach announced. “She told me he was too old for her.”
Paul chuckled hearing that.
“She was looking for a boy toy last month,” I said. “Like Demi used to have.”
At that, Paul laughed heartily. “Is she still holding out for Dr. Ray?”
Dr. Ray and Grandma seemed pretty cozy a month ago, but now? “I’m not sure. He’s coming back sometime soon, though. I don’t know if they call themselves an item or not, but I thought they could be leaning that direction.”
“Then why is she dancing with the old man?” Zach said in a voice filled with awe. The old man waved his cane and whooped it up on the dance floor rather impressively.
“She just loves to dance,” Paul said. “Grandpa George didn’t like to, but that never stopped Grandma.”
“I’m glad she didn’t give up what she liked,” I said.
Jennifer shrugged. “I gave up my sanity the day I married your brother.”
Paul smiled warmly at his wife. “But you gained me and three adorable children.”
Crystal touched DeWayne’s hand. “Would you like to walk around with Emily and me? It’s been a while since I was in town, and I’d hate to forget some people’s names.”
Oh, no. That wasn’t good. Not good at all. “Crystal,” I blurted out, trying to keep them at the table. I wanted Liz to come back so DeWayne could realize he was really hoping to get back together with my sister, not Crystal. “I’ll go around with you,” I hurriedly suggested.
Crystal smiled sweetly at me. “I know you’re one of the hostesses of this party, Vicki. I don’t want to bother you. That is, if DeWayne doesn’t mind going with me.” She turned to him, oozing sugar.
DeWayne smiled stupidly. How could he fall for a pair of boobs and a miniskirt? Or should the question have been, how could he not? “Sure. I’ll go.”
Where was Liz, anyway? She couldn’t still be in the bathroom, could she? And why was I trying so hard to keep DeWayne around for her anyway? Maybe I wanted Liz and him to become a couple more than Liz did.
DeWayne excused himself and walked beside Crystal, whose hand was holding Emily’s. I watched him go and shook my head. “What do you think the odds are of that partnership lasting?”
Jennifer shrugged. “I don’t think that man will ever get over Liz.”
“You’re probably right.”
I could only hope DeWayne remembered that under the influence of such a determined, half-dressed woman.
~ ~ ~
Taking a glance at the refreshment tables, I saw the brownies were vanishing quickly. I excused myself and grabbed another platter from the kitchen. While I was there, I thanked the ladies who were helping in the kitchen. Carrying the platter to the main room, I set it in place before heading back to the kitchen for another one.
I’m not sure what I expected in the hallway, but it definitely was not a pair of hands taking my shoulders and spinning me around.
Startled, I looked up into Gene’s face.
This time, there was no mistake. He might have been the same height and had dark hair, but this man was definitely neither Lamont nor Jeff. He was Liz’s not-quite-ex husband, Gene!
And he was gazing at me with love and desperation in his brown eyes.
Crap! He thought I was Liz, too! Even her own husband couldn’t tell us apart.
Before I could say a word, he swooped in for a kiss. Startled, it took me a couple of seconds to react. Thoughts zinged through my startled brain: Good kisser! What the heck? Liz’s husband!
Chapter Three
PUSHING MY SISTER’S HUSBAND AWAY, I gasped, “Wrong twin.”
Gene’s eyes widened in surprise as he shook his head in disbelief. Then, in a pleading tone, he said, “Liz, I need to talk with you. Please.”
“Gene, I wasn’t kidding. I’m Vicki.”
Grandma came up behind me. “Hey, if you’re giving out kisses, I’ll take one.”
“And now you’re kissing my sister,” Liz said, following Grandma. Her voice was cool and hard as river stones. “Gene, what are you doing here? I thought I asked you not to come.”
Gene, finally realizing he had kissed the wrong twin, looked sheepishly at his wife. “Now how is that going to look to your parents, honey? I want to honor them as much as you do. Besides, Lamont and Mary Ann invited me to ride up with them. How could I say no?”
Then where had he been in the meantime, I wondered.
“And are you really telling me you couldn’t tell the difference between my sister’s clothes and mine?”
“Hey,” I protested.
Gene said, “Your hair—”
That was it. I planned to call Hair by Design and make an appointment with Nicole for a different haircut, or color, or something. I had spent far too many years trying to break away from the nobody-can-tell-us-apart-because-we’re-twins mold, and wanted my own identity back.
My lips were still tingling from the passion in Gene’s kiss. The desperation. Gene wanted his wife back, but he sure didn’t make any points by kissing me instead.
Liz was frowning and I pulled Grandma away, saying, “They need to talk.”
“They need to kiss and make up,” she said, following behind me. When we reached the door to the kitchen, she smoothed down her emerald green dress.
I glanced back at Liz. Judging from her body language—arms tightly crossed and a frown in place—she was not open to Gene’s heartfelt appeals. But I saw the pain in Gene’s brown eyes and knew he really wanted to get back together with her. “He is definitely in the doghouse.”
Grandma sighed. “I like happy endings better, don’t you?”
I sighed, too. “Yes.”
Pushing Gene away, Liz made a dash up the hallway. I excused myself and followed her into the restroom where I could hear her vomiting. She must have been a lot more upset about the thing with Gene than she was letting on. After a few minutes of silence, she came out of the stall.
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned at seeing her pale face.
She shrugged and washed her hands, splashing some water on her cheeks and rinsing her mouth. “I’ve been better.”
“Do you want me to drive you home?”
She shook her head. “I’ve just got to learn to deal with it.”
“Can’t you work things out with him? I think he really wants to.”
“It’s over, Vicki.” She sighed. “Thanks to Agnes, my next-door neighbor in Park City. I was too dense to figure it out myself. It took a snoopy, old lady with binoculars to learn about the pregnant girl. I can’t give Gene children, and he doesn’t want to adopt them. He wants his own child.” Her voice grew harsh. “And now, it looks like he’ll get his wish. But if he expects me to raise his teenage lover’s child, he’s wrong. Dead wrong.”
As Liz spoke, the door opened and a woman I didn’t recognize started to enter, then said, “Excuse me,” and left. I wondered if she overheard.
I was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I wish I could wave a magic wand to make things good between you two again.”
She glared at me. “I can’t think of one good thing about Gene at the moment.”
It probably wasn’t the best time to blurt out, “He’s a pretty good kisser.”
~ ~ ~
Thank goodness, Gene was gone when Liz and I rejoined the party.
An hour later, the main crowd of well-wishers departed, with a few close friends and famil
y members staying behind to clean up.
Mom and Dad visited with us, unaware of the vintage limousine we siblings chipped in and rented for them.
At Paul’s table, Mom kicked off her shoes and sighed as she sank into a chair beside mine. I was holding Paul’s baby now, cooing at her. “Hey, pretty Amber.”
Dad took Mom’s hand, sweet to see after all these years. “This has been a really nice party, kids. Thank you.”
All seven of us siblings—Joannie, Georgia, Eric, Pamela, Paul, Liz, and I—were seated around the table. I hadn’t seen some of my brothers and sisters for several years, but they all managed to gather from across the country for this special event. All came with their families except Eric and his wife, Tina, who left their four children at home in Arizona. They were staying at my Inn this week for a romantic getaway.
All of a sudden, my sister, Joannie, pounded out a few measures on the piano. We glanced over and—oh, no!—Camille stood up next to her and began to sing again, this time an off-key rendition of “Happy Trails.” If Camille’s voice didn’t have Roy Rogers and Dale Evans turning over in their graves as she mutilated their old theme song, they must have been at least twitching uncontrollably. I know I was.
That was our signal to leave—well, that and the limo that had just pulled up out front. We all stood, making our parents close their eyes before they saw it. Paul pulled out his digital camcorder and situated himself outside so he could catch Mom and Dad’s expressions when they saw the limo. While my parents donned their coats, the rest of us raced outside and took up our positions. It was chilly enough that I wished I’d grabbed my coat, but I’d have missed the festivities if I’d gone back for it.
Grandma led my parents outside. When they opened their eyes and saw the vintage limousine, their astonished expressions were worth every penny and minute we spent on the shindig.
Mom started to cry, and even Dad wiped an eye. Liz and I exchanged a teary glance. The goodbyes stretched even longer, until finally, they climbed in.
My son, Zach, raced up, kissed my mother, and called out one of my father’s favorite sayings, “Remember who you are and what you stand for.”
We all laughed before my parents waved and the limo driver pulled out to take them for what he promised would be a romantic drive. It would be followed by a night at the Salt Lake City Grand America Hotel and, tomorrow, a flight to Hawaii for a six-day cruise among the islands—courtesy of Grandma Ross, who managed to keep their destination a secret until this morning. A month ago, she told them to pack swimsuits, sunscreen, and flip-flops.
Zach raced back and wrapped his arms around my waist, smiling up at me. “They’re going to have fun, huh, Mom?”
I nodded down at him. “Yes, squirt. They are.”
Paul wrapped his arm around Jennifer’s shoulders. Crystal took DeWayne’s arm, and he picked up her little girl in his other arm.
Liz looked away and went back inside.
My heart ached for her. And for me, too, as extreme loneliness washed over me. How I wanted Robert’s arm around my shoulders. I had Zach, but sometimes, my son wasn’t enough. I needed someone who loved me. Someone to trust with my future. Someone to share my future.
I tried to shake off the feeling and hugged my son closer, until he pulled away and raced over to Grandma.
Lonny’s voice came from behind me, and he spoke so quietly, the others couldn’t hear. “I’ve been thinking, Vicki. What if we went out to a movie or dinner? Whatever you’d like.”
My heart froze. It was the first time I’d been asked out by anyone but Robert, so many years ago. Lonny was offering to take away my loneliness, but my heart shuddered with the fear of betraying Robert.
The others followed Liz inside where it was warm. Grandma stood at the door, waiting for us, but not close enough to hear.
Finally, Lonny said, “I understand if you’re not ready.” He sounded disappointed. He really was a sweetie.
“I’m not quite ready yet, Lonny. Not for a date.” When he looked over at me, I smiled warmly. “But I would like to see that new Loralee Sutton movie. With a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “For a chick flick?”
I laughed. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”
But when his smile showed me that he considered it anything but, I had to wonder if I had just popped the lid on Pandora’s box. November 30, 2013
“Just so you know,” he said, “I’m going to keep asking for a date until you are ready.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I teased, both scared and excited at the revelation.
Lonny opened the door for Grandma and me. Inside, he and Zach grabbed our coats.
Grandma took my arm. “Vicki, I couldn’t help but notice that Lonny is making a move.”
Startled, I looked into her eyes. “How did you know?”
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t born yesterday. I can still recognize the signs of an interested man. And I think it’s high time for you to get on with your life, sweetie. Take a chance. Love is still waiting for you. You’re not betraying Robert. He’d be the first to tell you he wants you to be happy.”
“I wish he would tell me that himself.”
“Then go talk to him.” She smiled gently and, at my surprised look, she shrugged. “I talk with George all the time. I leave Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups on his grave. You know how he loved the disgusting things.”
“I’m going to the cemetery next Thursday. It’s been two years.” I went on Memorial Day, of course, as well as a few other visits, but this would be the anniversary of his death two years ago.
“The family will be there then. Make a special trip tomorrow by yourself or with Zach and just go back with the family next Thursday. I’ll go with you if you want. I can skip having lunch with my friends.”
“I don’t want to take Zach with me for this visit,” I said. “And since it’s Saturday, he’ll be out of school. It would be better if I waited.”
She hugged me. “It’s important to do this right away. You bring Zach to my house and I’ll entertain him.”
“What about your lunch?”
“Just a bunch of old biddies clucking.”
“Don’t you want to cluck a little, too?” I teased.
She smiled. “Bring Zach over.”
I paused. What did I have to lose? Except some of my worries, perhaps? “Okay. I’ll bring him early enough so you can still make it to your lunch.”
Chapter Four
Saturday, October 29
THE NEXT MORNING, I CLIMBED out of my car and pulled my jacket tightly around me. A chilly wind blew, skittering the brittle, fallen leaves through the air like Forrest Gump’s feather.
I came early enough to make sure I’d be back in time to pick up Zach before Grandma had to leave for her lunch with old friends. When I dropped Zach off, Grandma had said that after the lunch she would be hosting a party at her place, since my siblings were still in town. Maybe even Georgia would show up, though she rarely attended our family events, and barely made an appearance at the party last night. Joannie and Pamela and their children were staying at Grandma’s big house, but were about to go clothes shopping when I left.
Eric and his wife were staying at my Inn while their four children were back in Arizona. I hadn’t seen too much of them so far, so I assumed since it was a romantic vacation, they naturally wanted their privacy.
My parents were flying to California to start their cruise.
Putting all thoughts of my family aside for the time being, I left my purse in the trunk of my car, along with my worries, and carried only a greeting card, a lap blanket, and some tissues in case I cried.
Of course I would cry.
Then I pushed open the gate to the small Silver City Cemetery. A historic landmark, it was the resting place for many of my ancestors. The newer cemeteries had flat markers, but many in this place stood tall. It would no doubt be a spooky place after dark.
The card was a silly habit, but it usually ma
de me feel better. Robert always gave me silly, sentimental cards for special occasions, so each time I came to visit him, I brought one. I never left the cards, though, because I didn’t want anyone else to find them. I would just read it aloud to Robert, cry, then take it home with me to add to the stack of cards in my top dresser drawer.
I hardly got any sleep last night, what with thinking about Lonny asking me out and sensing I was at a crossroads moment.
I came here today, to the cemetery, acting purely on faith. I trusted Grandma and followed her advice by not waiting until Thursday, but instead talking to Robert today.
I stopped at Fanny Felter’s grave—the lady my grandmother worked with in the bank when she was young. Grandma would always laugh when she told the story about the employees’ names being typed in reverse order on the bank records, leaving poor Fanny as Felter, Fanny.
I paused in front of the graves of Grandma and Grandpa Melbourne, and, a few steps over, Grandpa George.
Realizing I was putting off what I really came for, and afraid of the emotions that lay ahead, I drew in a deep breath. I hoped to get through this visit without folding emotionally, but I wasn’t sure I could.
I carried my greeting card a few more steps and looked down at the next headstone.
Beloved Husband ~ Father ~ Friend
Robert Butler
At three years older than I, he was twenty-eight when the drunk driver hit him and would have turned thirty this year. Far too young to leave this earth, as well as leaving behind a premature widow and young son who missed him desperately.
I blinked back my tears. If I couldn’t even bear to look at his marker, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.
I sucked in a couple of ragged breaths, finally regaining control of my raw emotions. Spreading out the blanket, I sat down on it next to my husband’s headstone. I pulled the edge of the blanket over my legs, and leaned against Robert’s headstone, allowing its chilliness to cool my back.
I sat for a long time without saying anything, before I finally took out the card. Aloud, I started to read the pre-printed message. “Nothing will ever be the same again without you. Missing you more than I ever thought I could.” Then I whispered the part I wrote, “I love you forever, my darling. Vicki.”
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