by Beverly Farr
Phillip shook his hand with a firm shake. “Phillip Stewart.”
So this was the man that Ginny wanted? He was older. He looked like a professor, dressed in wool pants and a boring sweater.
“You must be the lucky man who swept Ginny off her feet.”
“I prefer to keep my feet on the ground these days,” Ginny said coolly.
Feeling a little defensive? Derek guessed. Ginny was lovely today in a knit dress that clung to her curves. He’d always liked her in blue.
If Phillip was surprised by her tone of voice, he didn’t betray it. He merely said, “Nice to meet you, Derek. I’ve heard good things about Midas.”
“Enough of that,” Miranda interrupted, oblivious to any undercurrents between them. “Come see what I’m doing.”
Phillip stepped over the boxes to get closer to the computer monitor. “I’ve never been to the Midas website,” he said, reading over Miranda’s shoulder.
Derek looked at Phillip, wondering what special qualities he had that had won Ginny’s heart. He glanced at her, raising one eyebrow, as if asking, “Is this the best you can do?”
Ginny bristled.
He smiled.
“I always thought garage sales were tacky, and the people can destroy your lawn,” Miranda was telling Phillip, “But selling on Midas is so convenient. I just click a few buttons and people start bidding.”
Ginny rolled her eyes.
It looked like she couldn’t decide if she were more irritated with her mother or with him.
Ginny said, “You’ll have to package things up and mail them later.”
Miranda dismissed that irritating detail with a wave of her hand. “Mrs. Richards will take care of that.”
Phillip asked, “Did you need to buy anything to get started?”
“I bought a new digital camera, a scanner, and I can’t remember what else. I thought I’d need a new computer, too, but Derek,” she flashed him a brilliant smile, “said my current computer was good enough, but I might want to get an upgrade in the next year.”
“That’s out of character,” Ginny murmured.
Derek looked at her sharply. “What?”
She kept her voice low so that Phillip and her mother wouldn’t hear them. “I thought you were in the business of encouraging people to buy things.”
“I won’t make a commission from the equipment Miranda bought today, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“No, but you’ll make a percentage from everything she sells on Midas.”
“You make it sound like a crime.”
“It’s not that. I just know how you operate.”
“Meaning?”
“You’d sell anything.”
His jaw tightened. It was as if the intervening years had never happened and they were back in their student apartment, arguing again. “If you’re referring to that damn necklace, I said all I’m going to on that subject.”
“Nothing is sacred to you.”
She’d never understood him. “No, I just think people and relationships are more important than material objects.”
“Don’t make me laugh. To make a profit, you’d sell your grandmother.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Virginia!” Miranda said sharply. “What are you talking about?”
Ginny jumped guiltily. Apparently their voices had increased in volume as they spoke, and they’d been discovered arguing like the unhappily divorced couple they were.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. What was wrong with her? Derek seemed to bring out the worst in her; he always had. She had to find a way to ignore him, to keep him from upsetting her.
“What’s this about selling people?” her mother insisted.
“We don’t sell anything illegal or immoral on Midas,” Derek said clearly.
“Didn’t someone try to sell a liver transplant?” Phillip asked.
“Not on Midas.”
“That’s a relief,” Miranda said. “And Derek, you’ll have to forgive Virginia if she gets a little cranky now and then. Every bride does.”
“Does what?”
“Get cranky. From all the stress.” She frowned and turned to Ginny for help. “What did your dressmaker call it?”
Ginny wished she could sink into the floor and disappear. “A ‘Bridezilla’ moment.”
Phillip laughed.
Derek said, “It sounds like a Japanese horror movie.” He lifted his arms up like Frankenstein and took two stomping steps forward. “Beware of Bridezilla.”
Ginny shook her head in disbelief. The last thing she ever expected was to have her ex-husband and her future one, both laughing at her. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s perfectly understandable,” Miranda continued in a serious tone. “A woman’s wedding day is the most important day of her life, and she wants every detail to be perfect.”
Derek confronted Ginny. “Do you agree? Do you think a woman’s wedding day is the most important day of her life?”
What kind of game was he playing now? Their wedding day had been a spur of the moment decision. She hadn’t even brought a toothbrush.
She chose her words carefully. “I think some other days might be equally important: like having a baby, and seeing that child get married. But yes, a woman’s wedding day should be something very special. That’s why she must be careful to marry the right man.” She looked Derek straight in the eyes. “Because if she marries the wrong one, the day becomes a nightmare.”
Derek’s eyes darkened as if acknowledging the hit.
“Oh no,” Miranda interrupted. “I have fond memories of each of my weddings. No matter what happened later.”
“You take a romantic view, then,” Phillip said.
“Yes.” Miranda sighed dramatically. “I keep hoping one of these days I’ll have a marriage that lasts.”
Ginny’s patience snapped. She’d heard more than enough. First a lecture on priorities from Derek, then marital advice from her mother! “If you’ll excuse me,” she said stiffly. “I’m going to take a walk in the backyard. Alone.”
“Is this a Bridezilla moment?” Phillip asked.
Derek laughed.
Ginny retreated outside. She found a few weeds the gardener had missed and pulled them up. Damn Derek for making her furious one moment and laugh the next. Nothing seemed to have changed. Why did he have to show up now, stirring up the past?
She’d worked hard to forget him and to make her own life, free and independent.
She sat on a cool stone bench and stared at the fire red azaleas, remembering.
Money had been tight, as always. She had her part time job working at the bookstore, and Derek delivered pizza as well as freelancing, writing computer programs, but the income wasn’t reliable. One car repair and an emergency trip to the dentist put their fragile student budget over the edge.
She needed a root canal, and woke up at night crying from the pain. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll get the money by Tuesday,” Derek promised.
By Monday afternoon, she couldn’t stand the pain any longer. She broke down and called her mother who graciously paid the dentist.
Tuesday morning, when Derek gave her the money, she was astounded. “What did you sell this time?”
“The van, and a few other things.”
“How will you deliver pizza without a van?”
“I’ll borrow a car from Ted.”
When she told him she’d already had the work done, that Miranda had paid for it, he was angry. “You didn’t even give me a chance.” They spent the next week avoiding each other, hardly talking, lying like strangers in their bed. Then on the last day, she checked her jewelry box and found her necklace missing.
It wasn’t a valuable necklace -- a simple heart shaped locket with a small diamond on it. But it was the one gift she’d received from her father, and it meant the world to her. Derek knew that, and yet he’d sold it.
When she confronted him, he lied, then grew defens
ive. She got angry, said things she shouldn’t have, and left. She filed for a divorce the next week.
Ginny sighed. Over the past nine years, she’d reviewed those brief weeks of her marriage a hundred times, and she still couldn’t make them right.
Should she have forgiven him? He’d been trying to help her. But it was more than just the necklace. That was just the last straw, in a series of disagreements. She was a straight A student; he rarely attended class because “the best learning doesn’t come from books.” She wouldn’t make a decision without considering all the options; he was more spontaneous.
Mostly they’d fought over money. She thought he was extravagant; he thought she worried too much.
He wanted her to relax, to have faith in him. He thought that as long as they didn’t actually starve, they were fine. And if worst came to worst they could hang out with their friends for a few weeks. But she didn’t want to be a mooch, living off others, borrowing money they couldn’t repay.
He was offended. “I’ve always paid my debts. Eventually.”
She felt that he didn’t listen. If Derek didn’t care for her feelings – didn’t even acknowledge the importance of them – how could she trust him? He was a little like Miranda, wanting everything his way. If they disagreed, she was the one at fault – the one who needed to change.
She couldn’t live like that. She wanted her marriage to be an equal partnership based on love and respect. Divorce had been the only solution.
She still believed that, so why did remembering their divorce now make her feel like such a failure?
#
Derek found Ginny sitting on a bench, resting her chin in her hands. No longer angry, she looked as if she might be crying.
It was a knife in his gut, reminding him of all the times she’d cried when they were together. He’d tried to make her happy, but he’d never been good enough.
“May I join you?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t even bother to look at him. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He sat on the bench next to her. “I’ll keep it short.”
Ginny sighed. “I don’t know why I bother talking. You never listen. You’re like a steamroller, flattening everything in your way.”
Is that what she thought of him? Derek took a deep breath. “I’ll listen.”
Ginny shook her head. “No, go ahead, it doesn’t matter. Tell me whatever you need to say and then go.”
Derek didn’t know where to begin. He chose the easiest subject first. “You’d better keep an eye on your mother. If you’re not careful, she’s going to steal Phillip away from you.”
Ginny laughed and looked at him incredulously. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
At least that got a reaction from her. “They’re sitting together like lovebirds, right now, discussing honeymoon locations.”
“I told him to do that,” Ginny argued. “Besides, she doesn’t even like him.”
“Is that why you’re marrying him?”
“No. I love Phillip. That’s why I’m marrying him.”
“I thought it might be another way to prove to yourself that you’re not Miranda.”
“If you were a psychologist, you’d starve to death.”
He ignored her jibe. “For the record, I want you to know that I like Phillip. He seems like an okay guy.”
Ginny made a face. “Glad to know I have your approval.”
“I didn’t say that. I said I like him, but that doesn’t mean you should marry him.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not a good match for you. He’s too polite. He won’t stand up to you. You’ll be bored to death within a year.”
Ginny stood. “Some people like calm relationships.”
“Not you.”
“I’ve got news for you, Derek. I’m not the girl I was nine years ago. I’ve grown up. I don’t need you or your theories on what will make me happy.”
He stood and put his hands casually in his pockets. “I agree.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Yes, and I think we should say good bye, and walk away like the reasonable adults we are. No hard feelings. No bitterness.”
She gasped as if she couldn’t believe him. “And if we happen to run into each other accidentally?”
“We’ll act like old acquaintances that knew each other years ago, nothing more.”
“No more talking about the past?”
“No more talking about the past.” All the past did, was bring him pain. It was better to put it all behind him.
She peered at him closely, trying to read him. Then she smiled with relief. “Good. I mean, yes, that is exactly what I want, too.” She held out her hand. “Good bye, Derek. I appreciate your attitude.”
He couldn’t take her hand. That was too cold, too clinical. He knew it was crazy, but he suddenly wanted something more. “After all we’ve shared, don’t I get a good-bye kiss?”
“In your dreams.”
“Hey. No bitterness, remember?”
He waited, half expecting her to throw his suggestion back in his face. “All right,” she said finally with resignation. “One good-bye kiss.”
She lifted her chin and tilted her head slightly so he could kiss her cheek.
Derek hesitated. Now that she’d agreed, he wanted to savor the moment. He gazed at her lovely face, fearing that no kiss now would be like it used to be. He was kidding himself that he could relive the past. Too much time had gone by.
She waited a few seconds, then snapped, “What is taking you so long?”
“If I only get one kiss, I want to do it right.”
“Very funny. Would you just get it over with?”
“That’s not what you used to say,” he teased, and when she stepped away angrily, he took her by the shoulders and turned her around to her face him. “Ginny love,” he said in a gentle voice. “Don’t you remember that anticipation is half the fun?”
Her eyes flashed.
No more waiting. With a sudden movement, he pulled her to him and kissed her full on the lips. She felt great in his arms again. Ginny held herself stiff, as if determined not to relax, not to respond.
Derek moved one of his hands up to cradle the back of her head while the other slid down the smooth knit of her dress to the small of her back, drawing her closer.
He felt her shudder and a responding bolt of desire shot through him. Nothing had changed. I still want you.
She gasped and he deepened the kiss. Her hands tightened on his shoulders.
Then too soon it was over. Ginny stepped away, and it took all of his willpower not to reach for her again.
For a moment neither one of them spoke. She smoothed her hair back with shaking hands. “Not bad,” she said lightly. “Your technique has improved.”
After all this time, her words still had the power to sting. He was a fool to care what she thought of him.
“Have a nice life, Ginny,” he said quietly. He left and didn’t look back.
#
Ginny scrolled through the fabric samples pictured on her computer screen. She needed a red chintz for the Garcia’s loveseat, but she wanted a cardinal rather than a tomato red. She made a note to herself to stop by the fabric outlet that afternoon.
Charlotte leaned her head in the doorway. “Remember, you’re meeting Phillip at seven-thirty, and your mother wants to know why you aren’t answering your cell phone.”
“Tell her I’m in ER having an emergency lobotomy.”
Charlotte ignored that comment. “Apparently there’s a problem with the bridemaids’ gifts. Three of them are the wrong color.”
Ginny took a deep breath. Count to ten, she told herself. Miranda is trying to be helpful. She just forgets that I have a business to run, as well as a wedding to organize. “Tell her I’ll call her back in twenty minutes.”
“All right,” Charlotte said. “You’ll also be glad to hear that we received two checks today.”
“For those ove
rdue accounts?”
“Yep. Some people are finally paying for the work you did last Christmas.”
Ginny smiled. It always surprised her when some of her wealthiest clients were the most lackadaisical about paying. But then again, she thought wryly, maybe that’s why they were the wealthiest. “Great. Deposit them today.”
“Can do.”
“Did anyone else call?”
“No. Are you expecting a call?”
“No.” It had been eight days since Derek had kissed her and told her to have a nice life. Since then, he had made no effort to see her or to talk to her, and as far as she knew, he hadn’t talked to her mother. Which was exactly what she wanted.
So why can’t I stop thinking about him?
It was that kiss. Ginny kept thinking about it, wishing she’d done something different, said something different.
What was he thinking about her? Was he congratulating himself for making her respond to him? Did she matter to him at all or was it all part of their emotional power struggle?
She wished she’d never seen him again, and she should never have agreed to a kiss. It was just his one last attempt to mess with her mind. It was madness to worry about it.
She was getting married in four and a half weeks. One mistake, one kiss, was not enough to change that. She picked up her phone and gave Phillip a call. “Darling, I can’t wait until seven-thirty.”
#
Ginny carried a plate stacked high with tuna sandwiches to her dining room. Phillip sat at one end of the oak table, his shirt sleeves rolled up, tapping a pencil on a stack of printed spreadsheets. “I can’t do it,” he said. “If I invite everyone in the Department with their spouses, I can’t invite all my cousins.”
“If you have to offend someone, offend the relatives,” Ginny said with practicality. “You don’t see them more than once a year. Co-workers on the other hand will see you the Monday after we get back from the honeymoon.”
Phillip took a bite from one of the sandwiches. “But if all my cousins aren’t invited, my mother will be offended.”
“Then don’t invite her.” At Phillip’s stunned expression, she said, “I’m joking.” She’d met Phillip’s mother months ago. She was a sweet old lady who liked to garden and cross-stitch, and called her “Jenny” instead of “Ginny.” She would be an ideal grandmother someday.