by Peggy Webb
“Talking to yourself, sir?”
“It’s a new habit I’ve acquired.”
“Yes sir.” Wayne turned to go.
“Wayne...” Sam said. The older man turned back. “Thank you for hanging this painting.”
“Did I put it in the right place?”
“It’s perfect.”
Wayne gave him a grin that showed two gold teeth and then limped back down the hall. It occurred to Samuel that Wayne was getting too old to drive. He’d have to hire someone else and call him Wayne’s assistant. The old man had his pride.
He turned his attention back to the canvas. Only three more days until the wedding and he’d see Molly in the flesh.
He could wait—barely.
o0o
Molly felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven. All the Dixie Virgins except Joanna, who was in Madrid, and Cat, who had a huge exam, sat in a circle on the floor of her bedroom with cans of Pepsi free and three bowls in junk food in the middle – popcorn balls, popcorn, and an assortment of chocolate bars.
“I never eat candy,” Janet said, then reached for another Almond Joy. “All those fat grams.”
“Live large.” Bea napped a candy bars and one of the popcorn balls. “Clemmie, these popcorn balls are to die for. If I can’t zip my bridesmaid dress, it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll zip it.” Clemmie smiled. “After dealing with Miss Josephine, I can handle anything.”
“I wish I had a reason not to zip my dress,” Belinda said.
“Hush up!” Bea tossed her a Hershey bar. “Are you trying to get pregnant?”
“Yes, and not having a bit of luck.” Belinda grinned. “But the trying sure is fun!”
“At the rate I’m going, I’ll never even get to try!” Bea said. “Whoever thought of Rule Four anyhow?”
“You!” All five of them spoke at once, and then laughed until they were hanging onto each other with tears streaming down their cheeks.
It didn’t surprise Molly at all that her tears were real. And it didn’t take two minutes before Janet and Bea noticed. Bea hugged her hard and Janet squeezed her hand.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Molly sniffed and Clemmie handed her a tissue.
“I do.” Belinda leaned over and grabbed her other hand. “You’re in love. I know all the symptoms.”
“She’s not in love,” Janet said. “She’s just tired. For God’s sake, finishing art school and coming straight home to wedding chaos and then having to deal with Bea’s high-powered brother! Who wouldn’t be exhausted!”
“Molly, that’s who.” Clemmie spoke with the assurance of a mother hen who knows each little chick. “She’s got enough energy to fuel a rocket to the moon.”
“Tonight, I don’t have enough energy to reach for another popcorn ball,” Molly said, and Clemmie tossed one to her. “I’m thinking seriously about going back to Paris.”
“But why?” Belinda said. “We love having you here. Besides, if you leave, you won’t get to see Samuel.”
“That’s smart, Molly,” Janet said. “You’re an independent woman with a great future in art. If he really wants you, make him chase you all the way across the ocean.”
“Listen up, everybody.” That was Bea for you. Always taking charge. The great thing was that they all loved it. “If Molly’s in love with my brother, that’s the best thing that could ever happen to him. And if he doesn’t know it, I’ll kick his ass!”
“You go, girl!” Belinda grabbed up her Pepsi can. “A toast! To Bea kicking butt!”
They all toasted Bea’s successful butt-kicking. Next they toasted Belinda’s baby-making process then moved to Janet, who would be hanging out her shingle in the fall. From there they toasted the men they already had and the ones who would someday come into their lives. And last, but not least, they toasted their Virginias.
“Long may they roar!”
That was Bea’s toast, and Molly thought that said it all.
o0o
Standing in the huge living room of Janet and Dan Albany’s gracious house on Church Street watching his mother tie the knot with Jedidiah Rakestraw was especially painful for Samuel. For one thing, Bea was glaring at him as if he’d committed armed robbery. For another thing, he still wasn’t convinced that his mother’s marriage was in everybody’s best interests.
But mostly, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Molly. She was supposed to be one of the bridesmaids, and for God’s sake why hadn’t she worn something sensible and discreet like Bea. That dress she had on displayed every one of her assets, all of which were mouth-watering. He didn’t know a damned thing the preacher said.
He caught Molly’s eye and smiled. She smiled back, but it was not the kind of smile that made a man want to do handstands.
Thank God the minister finally pronounced Glory Ethel and Jedidiah man and wife, and the whole damned thing was over.
Moving quickly, Samuel took Molly’s arm.
“I need to see you in private.”
Ignoring the way his sister looked daggers at him, he led Molly into a small book-lined study and shut the door. His briefcase was on the desk where he had put it that morning after he and his mother had arrived from Florence. They had come straight to the Albany house—some fool notion about the bride not seeing the groom till the wedding. One of Dan Albany’s baseball caps hung on the back of a chair, and a half-chewed old rawhide bone was evidence of dogs in the house. Good God, who in their right mind would keep dogs in the house?
“Molly, we need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s obvious. You’ve avoided me ever since you arrived.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I was with the wedding party.” She reached for the doorknob. “We should join our parents.”
“They’ll never miss us. At least not for a while.”
She looked so fragile standing there, so innocent, so young. Ten years younger and less experienced than he. He’d have to remember that.
“Molly, do you remember our encounter my bedroom.”
“It wasn’t an encounter. It was an art lesson.”
“You’re right. And you completely convinced me about art. I was wrong.”
“What is this? Some new scheme of yours to gain control? Some new plot you’ve hatched to tame me? Right?”
“Wrong. What I’m trying to tell you...” He paused and laughed at himself. “I didn’t know I’d be so bad at this.”
“Bad at what?”
“Molly, will you come and sit with me on the sofa? I want to tell you a story.”
She looked askance at the leather love seat. She didn’t relish the idea of being cooped up with Sam, but he did look sincere, and after all, he was family now.
“I’ll stay five minutes longer. Only five, and if I’m not out of here by then, Bea is going to come charging in here to see what you’re up to.”
“Let her come. I’m not scared of Bea.”
He watched as she sat as far away from him as the small sofa would allow. He couldn’t help but remember the day they’d met. He could still picture her in the slatted swing with the sun shining in her hair.
“Molly, when I first learned of my mother’s intentions to marry your father, I was very much opposed.”
“You thought we were after your money.”
“The thought crossed my mind. Primarily, though, I was opposed because of you.”
“You’ve made that painfully clear.”
“I was wrong, Molly.”
He saw the play of emotions on her face—astonishment, skepticism. And was that a little glimmer of hope?
“You’re the most charming woman I’ve ever met, and I was crazy to believe that having you in the family would be anything except a pleasure.”
“That’s quite a pretty speech, and I believe at least half of what you said.”
“Which half?” He smiled.
“The part about me being charming.” She gave him an impert
inent smile. “I like to be thought of as charming.”
“Molly, I want you to know why I was so determined to keep you out of my family.”
“You don’t have to justify your reasons to me, Sam. You’ve admitted that you’ve changed your mind, and I’ll accept that. Now, for the sake of Daddy and Bea and your mother, let’s just be friends.”
“I want us to be more than friends.... I want us to be lovers.”
“I should have known that all your pretty speeches were just another ploy to manipulate me.”
She jumped up and stalked toward the door, then turned for a last word.
“I wouldn’t climb into your bed if you were the last man on earth.”
She slammed the door so hard, the antique inkwell on Dan’s desk rattled.
Sam wanted to smash his fist into the wall. He wasn’t accustomed to failing, and he’d failed royally with Molly. One look at her, and he’d completely forgotten his careful plan of wooing and winning.
He wondered how long he could sit on the sofa and nurse his wounds. About three more minutes. Then his sister would come steaming through with her fighting face on.
o0o
Molly didn’t even take the time to regain her composure. She marched back to wedding party and went straight for the table of champagne. She picked up a glass and downed it in four gulps—and she didn’t even like champagne. She set the empty glass down and picked up another.
“Dang, is my brother driving you to drink?”
“He is.” Molly polished off the other glass, and Bea grabbed one to join her. “He hates me. Maybe it’s my dress.”
She eyed Bea’s sapphire silk dress, stunning in its simplicity. Without the distraction of all that diaphanous draping on Molly’s ill-chosen bridesmaid dress, Bea looked like the empress of some small country. Her black hair was so glossy it looked like patent leather and her big, dark eyes looked bottomless. Killer looks ran in the Adams family. Molly couldn’t look at her without thinking of Samuel.
“Your dress shot his blood pressure up ten degrees.”
“Really?”
“I saw it all over his face when you walked into the room.”
“Then why is he acting like such a tyrant?”
“Because you’ve got the same bombshell looks of that floozy out daddy ran off with, and he’s scared out of his mind.”
“Good grief!”
“Daddy was a handsome man. Too handsome. That’s what attracted Betsy Martin to him. That and his money. She’d come to The Shoals to cut a record—she was a singer. A really beautiful woman. Sexy, flamboyant—not at all like my mother.” Bea’s glance swung across the room to Glory Ethel. “My mother is the salt of the earth.”
“She is. Daddy will treat her like a queen.”
“I know that.” Bea grinned. “Who would ever have believed Match.com would work? Maybe I ought to put up a bio.”
“Maybe I will, too. I could end up with a hunk that would make Sam look like dog meat.”
“Girl, kick ass!” They clinked glasses.
o0o
Samuel came back to the wedding reception in time to see Molly and his sister laughing their heads off. His hackles went up. When Bea laughed like that, she was bound to be up to something.
He headed that way, hoping to launch a surprise attack, but Molly spotted him and hurried off toward her daddy and Sam’s mother.
“What are you gawking at, Sam?” Bea said. “Good God, you like those syrupy ads of doting fathers watching their daughter’s graduation.”
“You caught me red-handed.”
“That’s what you get for having a brilliant sister. How bad is it?”
“Very bad. Or very good, depending on your point of view. I asked her to be my lover.”
“I hope she slapped you.”
“She didn’t, but she turned me down in no uncertain terms.”
“Good for her.” Bea handed him a glass of champagne. “Now, what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’d better think of something fast. If you let Molly get away, I might have to kill you.”
“I’d like to see you try, Big Britches.”
“Am I getting fat?”
“Good God, Bea, that was just a figure of speech. What’s wrong with you?”
“The same thing that’s wrong with you. I’m not getting any loving.”
Chapter Eight
Molly had to have air. She felt stifled and it was all because of Sam standing over there drinking champagne with Bea.
She knew the Albany house nearly as well as she knew her daddy’s. It was a marvelous mixture of classy elegance and interesting memorabilia. A Waterford vase shared space on a Victorian hall table with an ancient one-eyed teddy bear. Farther down the hall and through an archway, a huge watercolor of a fanciful carousel presided over an 1860s walnut table.
Molly usually enjoyed the house as much as she enjoyed the company of Janet and Dan, but not today. She paid scant attention as she made her way to the backyard.
Outside she headed for the tire swing in a corner of the fenced-in yard. Harvey, the Albanys’ mixed-breed mutt who was napping under the oak tree, lifted his huge head, yawned and then went back to dreaming. Lying contentedly by his side, the poodle, Gwendolyn, didn’t even bother to spare Molly a glance.
“Everybody I see is paired off—even the dogs,” Molly muttered to herself, and stopped to kick a twig that had blown off the tree. She fitted herself into the tire swing, not bothering to be careful with her dress. Then she pushed her feet against the ground to shove off. There was something exhilarating about flying through the air.
She closed her eyes, swinging back and forth, waiting for the feeling to come.
“If I were an artist, I’d paint you like this.” Samuel caught the edges of the tire swing and brought it to a halt.
“Let me go... please.”
“I’ll never let you go.”
“Samuel...”
He held the swing a moment longer, gazing into her face; then he gave it a gentle shove. Molly and the swing went soaring through the air.
“Do you like to fly high, my sweet?”
“Yes.”
“I can take you high, Molly. Higher than you ever dreamed.”
“You must be out of your mind.”
“And you smell like wind and wildflowers.”
He gave the swing another push, and when it came back toward him, he caught the rope and held her still.
“Molly, if I had two hundred years, it wouldn’t be enough time to just look at you.” His brushed his lips against her cheeks, and she felt shivers skitter down her spine. “It would take another five hundred to explore your lips, and your body would take an eternity.’’
“I wouldn’t let you explore my body with a ten foot pole and furthermore…why are you laughing?”
He circled her waist and plucked her from the swing.
“I’m going to woo you and court you and sweep you off your feet.”
“Aren’t you worried about shocking polite society?”
“Not anymore. I don’t know if I ever really was.”
“You’ll be wasting your time, Samuel. I’m not the marrying kind.”
He whooped with laughter.
“I don’t see anything funny about that.”
“What’s so humorous, my sweet, is that while I’m still thinking of the courtship, you’ve zoomed ahead to the marriage. I approve. We could get married and work everything else out at our leisure. Preferably in bed.”
Dignity rose from her like steam from hot asphalt. “I would never consider you for a husband. You are totally unsuitable.”
“Tell me my failings.”
“Do you want me to name them all?”
“Be brutal.”
He was still smiling. The cad. She began to count off his failings on her fingers.
“You’re a dictator. I don’t think you’re fond of digging flower beds. I’ve never seen
you act wild about dogs and babies. Your idea of fun is tossing me over your shoulder and parading me through a roomful of people.”
“Anything else?”
“Furthermore, I don’t even know whether you like circuses and parades and chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and cherries, and wonderful theater with music that makes you laugh and cry, and popcorn with lots of butter on top.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
“Because...” She looked into his face and discovered that she couldn’t walk away without telling him at least a part of the truth. “You have a life in Florence and I live in Paris, and I’m going home.”
“You’re going back to Paris? When?”
“My plane leaves tomorrow morning at seven.”
Lifting her chin, she went inside to join the party.
Glory Ethel and Jedidiah were getting ready to leave on their honeymoon. Molly pressed forward for one last hug and kiss.
“Have fun, Daddy... Glory Ethel. I love you. Both of you.”
Her father hugged her close. “Take care, sweetheart. Set Paris on its ear.”
“I will, Daddy.”
Bea came forward to hug them, then she and Molly stood with arms linked and watched as Jedidiah Rakestraw escorted his new wife to the front door.
The couple paused, laughing. And then Glory Ethel threw her bridal bouquet straight into Molly’s hands. She glanced around to see if Samuel had seen, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Mother is not very subtle,” Bea said, and Janet came over to join them.
“Molly, if you’re looking for Sam, he’s already gone.”
“Good riddance.”
“Way to go, Molly! Give my brother a merry chase. And if you don’t like him when you catch him, throw him back. There are other fish in the pond.”
“Damned straight,” Janet said.
Molly laughed, but at the moment the only thing she could think about was Samuel, this larger than life fish that took up the whole ocean.
o0o
From: Molly
To: Bea, Janet, Clemmie, Catherine, Joanna, Belinda
Re: Airport
I’m at the Atlanta airport and I miss all you already! Still, it feels right to be going back to Paris. I’m going to hit the ground at Orly running. First, I’m going to redecorate my little apartment – Robin will LOVE it! And then I’m going to be so busy I won’t spend a single minute thinking about Samuel Adams! How’s that for a declaration of independence!