I’ll Be Seeing U

by Dianne Castell

  “Besides,” came Effie’s voice from the doorway as she and Callie walked in. “You never know, it just might turn into an engagement party.”

  Cynthia smiled. “You two want to celebrate your engagements? Now it really is getting to be a party.”

  The two sat at the bar beside Sally, exchanged looks then Callie said to Cynthia, “Not ours, yours. We didn’t know if we should tell you but Quaid’s freaking out. He backed over Keefe’s SUV on his way into Memphis this morning to get the ring.”

  “R…Ring?”

  “He fed Max tofu and Ryan dog food for breakfast. And…he wore a plaid shirt and khakis into town.”

  Cynthia felt the blood drain from her face. “Plaid? Khakis? Quaid? Ohmygod.”

  Effie gritted her teeth. “Scary stuff. But if you’re going to turn him down you’ll have to be…gentle. I think he’s on the edge. Not that we want to know your answer, that’s your business not ours.”

  Sally slowly righted herself, keeping the bag plastered to her head. “Like heck, of course we want to know. What kind of women would we be if we didn’t want to know stuff like that? This is the Landing, everybody knows everything.” Three pairs of eyes focused on her. “It’s the truth and you all know it.” She pointed to Cynthia. “Well, give. What’s it going to be?”

  “We’ve been together two weeks, and a lot of that was not all that together so much as running into each other.”

  Sally huffed, “Oh for heaven’s sake. You probably had a proper engagement to that Aaron guy, and bridal showers at Tavern on the Green, and the big fluffy wedding and look where that got you, married to an ass. Sometimes you got to just go with it, girl, let things happen.”

  “And if I’m wrong I’m not just messing up my life, but Lawrence’s, and every time I let a guy in my life it goes right to hell in a handbasket. I can’t do that again.”

  Sally sat cross-legged on the bar. “And when your life went to hell who pulled you out this time? I’m willing to bet it was Quaid, that’s what he does. Takes care of everyone.”

  Effie took Cynthia’s hand. “But the real question is do you love him?”

  “He’s…young.”

  Sally grinned. “And the problem is…?”

  Cynthia slid from the stool and paced. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Effie ushered Cynthia to the door. “Go home, slip into something pretty and think…think real hard. Where are you going to find a man better than Quaid O’Fallon and do you really love him?”

  Cynthia suddenly found herself on the other side of the door to Slim’s as it closed soundly behind her. Now what was she going to do? This was not how she envisioned her day going at all. What happened to helping Sally feel better, putting the finishing touches on that mother-of-the-bride dress, and maybe doing some target practice, she still hadn’t done that. Guns…ick. But a necessary ick if butt-brain Aaron ever showed up again.

  She got into the Blue Bomb, fired it up, backed into a tree, nearly ran over Beau Fontaine taking his morning walk, and headed for Ivy Acres. What to do?

  And two hours later as she sat on the front steps and Quaid’s Jeep rolled into the circle drive in front of her house, she still wasn’t sure what to do. Her last marriage was such a huge mistake, what made this any different?

  Quaid opened the door and got out and her gaze met his. Her stomach flipped. Stupid question. Quaid made it different. He even wore a stupid plaid shirt for her.

  He plopped beside her and said, “You look gorgeous. You always look gorgeous.” He stared straight ahead, then ran his hand over his face a few times and pulled at the shirt.

  “You look like hell. Are you okay?”

  “Terrific.” He let out a ragged breath, swallowed, then turned to her. “Look, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t have a clue. I can grab people off sinking ships, rooftops, out of trees, can fix any motor man’s created, hunt, fish, survive in the wilderness for weeks with nothing but a knife but—”

  “Yes.”

  He wasn’t breathing.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you?”

  Air escaped his lungs. “Good God, why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Lawrence bolted from behind what was left of the rhododendron. “Yes!” He jumped up and down in the driveway. “We’re getting married!” He threw himself into Quaid’s arms. “You’re my dad, the one who really counts, like Rory was with you.” He faced Cynthia. “We’re getting married. Kiss him. Come on, do it. That makes it official. And a ring.” He turned to Quaid. “Do you have a ring? You gotta have a ring.”

  Quaid pulled a black box from his pocket.

  “Oh, this is great. Now put it on her finger, you’re supposed to get down on one knee and say My darling woman, I love you with all my heart, will you marry me?”

  Cynthia massaged her forehead. “Lawrence, what in the world have you been reading now?”

  Quaid shrugged. “Sounds better than anything I’ve come up with.” He knelt on the step below her. “Cynthia Landon, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” And he slid the emerald solitaire on her finger.

  Lawrence beamed. “Holy cow, holy cow, we’re engaged. I want to wear a tux to the wedding. Guys look great in a tux. Like Gatsby. Katelyn will like it. I’ll tell Grandma.” He ran into the house, the front door banging shut behind him.

  Cynthia sighed, “I need a rest, I’m hiding his library card.”

  Quaid arched his brow. “Grandma? The fly in the ointment?”

  “Then it is her ointment, isn’t it? Besides she’s still asleep, she was in Memphis till late last night.” Cynthia kissed him, her head swimming, her heart pounding, feeling totally happy. “I love you, Quaid O’Fallon. I didn’t realize how much till right now. I’d be honored and thrilled to be your wife. Truthfully you are the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.” She framed his face between her hands and grinned, feeling nearly euphoric. “Now was that so hard?”

  He smiled a really terrific smile that warmed her heart and sizzled the rest of her. “Yeah, nearly did me in but it was worth it.”

  Sister Candy and Sister Ginger came to the door. Sister Candy said, “Oh my God, he’s on his knees. He did it, he did it, he really did it.”

  Sister Ginger added, “We’ve got to call Sally so she can tell everyone.”

  The sisters went back inside and Cynthia pulled Quaid up beside her. She leaned against him, gazing at the ring sparkling in the sunlight. “It’s beautiful. It matches your eyes.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “I’m glad you like it. I didn’t know which one to pick. Diamonds are nice but you’re more colorful than that.”

  “I’m colorful?”

  “You’re really dazzling,” he said in a rush of words. Then he nodded to the hedges where he’d fallen. I’ll get gardeners over here this week to spruce up the grounds. The inside of the house needs painting and the floors should be refinished.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been giving this a lot of thought.”

  “And we should get married as quickly as you’re comfortable with.”

  “Don’t you want to enjoy the engagement for a while?”

  “We get married and then I can move in here and make sure you and Lawrence are safe from Aaron and those guys from the boat. We’ll get this house back the way it used to be. I think you’ll like that, and Ida too. I’m not wealthy but I have enough money to take care of you and you’ll be safe with me, but of course you know that, that’s why you’re marrying me. I can afford to send Lawrence to that private school if that’s what you really want and—”

  “Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.” A chill crept up her back. “You don’t have to do any of that.”

  “Of course I do. That’s why I’m here.”

  Reality fought its way through her brain presently drowning in pure bliss. “You think I’m marrying you so you can take care of me, protect me and Lawrence, make things right?”

  He shrugged, matter-of-fact. “Sure.”

  “
You don’t think I really love you, do you.” It was a statement, not a question. She knew him and how he worked…he was the protector, the savior, the one who made the world around him perfect. It was like payback for Rory saving him. “Damn you, Quaid O’Fallon.”

  “I think I liked the most wonderful man part better.”

  She yanked at the ring but it didn’t budge, so she stuck her knuckle in her mouth, licked it and pulled off the ring.

  He looked bewildered. “What are you doing? Doesn’t it fit?”

  “It’s not the ring that doesn’t fit, it’s you. You have such a low opinion of me you really think I can’t take care of myself, and such a low opinion of yourself that you don’t think I can really love you?”

  “Cynthia, you’re terrific, wonderful, beautiful, incredible. So why in the almighty hell would you want to marry me, not that I’m complaining, I’m just seeing it for what it is.”

  “I might as well marry a pit bull.”

  “Well, sort of…but I smell better…usually.”

  “Dear God! I truly love you but you refuse to believe me. Well, Mr. O’Fallon, until you can get it through your thick skull that I can take care of me and Lawrence without your wonderful supervision, and that I love you with all my heart and this marriage has nothing to do with being a pit bull, our engagement is over.”

  “Over? But…What more do you want from me? Name it, I’ll make it happen.”

  She smacked her palm against her forehead. “See, this is why I cannot have men in my life. I marry one who takes, takes, takes and never gives anything back and then I almost marry one who gives, gives, gives and won’t take anything in return.”

  “But…but I really do love you.”

  “And I believe it, but I can’t marry a man who believes I’m doing him a favor by becoming his wife.” She yanked open the door and slammed it behind her.

  “Well, fuck,” Quaid muttered. He felt as if he’d been zapped with a bolt of lightning. One minute he was doing damn good, the woman of his dreams had agreed to marry him, making him more happy than he thought possible, and the next minute he was face-down in the dirt, wondering how in the hell he got there.

  Lawrence came back onto the porch and handed him a cookie. “Wow, what did you do? Mom is so pissed off. She’s slamming doors and grumbling about men and stomping around like a crazy person. Preston’s hiding in the pantry. I could hear you arguing all the way in the kitchen.”

  “I think I just had the shortest engagement in history. I blew it. Forget the tux.” Quaid took the ring from his pocket and looked at it, Lawrence peering over his shoulder. “It’s really pretty. You tried, you said the right stuff. I don’t get what happened.”

  “I thought I was doing the right thing and then bam!”

  “Your brothers have nice girlfriends…least Mom says so. Maybe you should talk to them.”

  Quaid thought of the ribbing he’d take from Rory, Ryan and Keefe for screwing this up. Demar would sympathize, since his love life was in the toilet too. Quaid glanced at the door and Lawrence said, “Don’t do it. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

  “Good point.”

  “Guess you’re not calling the boat Cynthia after all?”

  “More like I Wore Plaid for This?” Quaid gave Lawrence a squeeze then kissed his head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, sport, I’ll fix this somehow.”

  Quaid dropped the ring back in his pocket, got in the Jeep and headed for the dock. When he pulled into the parking lot, his brothers, Rory and Demar were waiting. Oh boy!

  “Well,” Rory asked when the Jeep pulled to a stop. “How’d it go?”

  “Don’t ask,” Quaid said, then waited for the ribbing to start…but it didn’t. “Aren’t you going to start with the smart-ass cracks?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Are you kidding? Do you know what hell Effie put me through before she agreed to marry me? I moved all the way back to San Diego before we straightened things out.”

  Keefe rolled his shoulders. “I messed things up so bad with Callie and was in such a state that I handed Bonnie over to kidnappers. Gee that was fun.”

  Rory rocked Bonnie in his arms. “And my woman’s still on the lam, and the only way I can see her is if there’s a plumbing problem.” He winked at Quaid. “Like I said before, the road to getting the right woman is a damn minefield and things aren’t going to be any better for you tonight at the wedding reception at Slim’s for Thelma and Conrad.”

  Demar held up his hands. “Oh, no. Count me out. I’m not going anywhere near Slim’s.”

  Keefe said, “If you don’t go you’ll look like a coward. Just don’t bring Jett, we don’t need bloodshed.”

  Demar leaned against a piling. “I’ll take the seven o’clock watch tonight over at the dry dock, then come over just to wish Conrad and Thelma all the best. But I got a feeling that Quaid spotting Beau this morning had something to do with Mimi.”

  “Or,” Quaid offered, “he really was taking that walk like he always does and Preston is the connection along with Jett.”

  “We need to keep our eye on all of them. Beau and Preston will be at the party so that won’t be hard. Jett’s another story. I’ll try and keep track of her.”

  Ryan slapped Quaid on the back. “Do us all a favor, big brother, just don’t wear that god-awful shirt. Where the hell did you get it anyway?”

  Quaid slapped him on the back in return. “Your closet.”

  Standing on the bar, Cynthia grabbed the roll of white streamer paper from Sally and nailed it to the ceiling of Slim’s with enough force to jar dust from the rafters.

  “Hey,” Sally yelled, holding up her hand, her eyes squinting shut. “You’re killing me here, girl. I’ve got the mother of all headaches.” She pointed to the ice bag she’d strapped around her head using one of the sisters’ bandanas. “Remember me doing shots, throwing plates, flat on my back on that bar.” She nodded to her former resting place. “Think tape, or glue or chewed gum…anything but a hammer.”

  She handed Cynthia the gray roll of duct tape that she’d used last night to fix Demar’s picture to the wall. “Double it over and make it sticky on both sides. Nice and quiet like, okay?”

  Cynthia let out a deep sign. “I’m not getting over this broken engagement thing too well. I’m in the mood to beat up something…or someone.”

  Sally gave a sideways glance. “What’s that mean?”

  “I’ve learned a lot from Quaid.”

  Sally snickered and Cynthia blushed. “And not just the sexy stuff though the man sure has his share.” She tore a chunk of tape with her teeth and stuck a swag of crepe paper to the ceiling. She threw the tape, then the streamer roll to Callie standing on a table. She stuck up another swag, then tossed the paper and tape to Ginger, who threw it to Candy as they festooned the ceiling with dips of crepe paper. Bells, doves and hearts hung here and there, white balloons in the corners.

  Callie jumped down from the last table and gazed around. “I like it. A little cheesy—make that a lot cheesy—but it’s fun. Conrad and Thelma will be surprised and we all need a break from the craziness going on around here.”

  Sally slumped into a chair. “Are you kidding, it’s flipping terrific. We raided everyone’s garden for flowers and begged for white tablecloths and vases. We’ve mastered the art of instant wedding reception. We should go on Oprah.”

  Effie said, “Preston’s doing lasagna and putting the finishing touches on the cake. He and Lawrence are headed up to Ivy Acres to get a cake plate from Ida. Beau was supposed to drop it off but had to go into Memphis for business.”

  Callie fluffed a tablecloth over one of the wood tables and Effie set a vase of flowers in the middle, as the door opened and an older man with gray hair, unshaven chin and hollow eyes strolled in as if he owned the place. Cynthia’s heart beat faster and her palms started to sweat. Could she really deal with this man? Then she thought of Quaid and how he’d dealt with Aaron. Yeah, she could so do this.

 
The man grumbled, “I’m looking for Cynthia.”

  “And you found her,” Cynthia said as she forced a grin and walked toward him. She tried to keep the anger from showing in her eyes. “I thought it was time we met.”

  He gave her a steely look. “I’m here to pick up my money. You said Quaid left money for me.”

  “I lied. I told you that to get your sorry, lying, arrogant ass here. I figured it would work because I’m willing to bet the bank you’ve hit Quaid up for money a lot, knowing he’s a sucker for family, and unfortunately that includes you.”

  Sally’s eyes covered half her face. “Pete? You’re Pete? We haven’t seen you on the Landing in twenty years. My, my, you have not aged well. But I guess the real problem is that you’ve aged.” She faced Cynthia. “How’d you know he was hitting Quaid up for money?”

  “I married Aaron. I know the type.”

  “I’m out of here.” Pete turned for the door but the sisters blocked his way, and they weren’t looking too sisterly.

  Sally asked, “How’d you find him?”

  “Preston knows more than how to bake a mean lasagna and dress like Magnum,” Cynthia said to Pete. “Tell me, did you use the money you got from Quaid over the years to pay gambling debts from betting on the ponies? Poker? Craps? Black jack? Texas Hold’em?”

  “So what if I did. What business is it of yours?”

  Cynthia felt dizzy. “You said that to the wrong person.” She glanced around. “Where’s my purse? I need my gun. Men like you make me sick.”

  Pete’s eyes widened. “Gun? Who the hell are you? What do you want with me?”

  Sally said, “You can’t shoot him, dear, your son will be back, bad example.”

  Effie added, “And it’s messy.”

  Callie said, “Not if we bury the body first.”

  Pete went white as the streamers overhead. “What the fuck. This has gone far enough.”

  Cynthia said, “Here’s the problem, Pete. Quaid can stand up to anyone but he can’t stand up to you because you’re his grandfather. So, I figured we could stand up to you for him. Think of this as comeuppance by proxy. You screwed with Quaid’s head and his self-esteem when he was a kid, and it’s our turn to make that right. You’re going to apologize to Quaid.”