A black-jacketed emcee was bellowing into a microphone about the ultimate in wrestling entertainment while a boisterous crowd shouted, “Uwa, uwa, uwa.”
Betrayal, swift and wrenching, cut into Marietta. The pair on the sofa regarded her warily. They looked as though they were afraid she would rap their knuckles with a ruler and send them to the principal’s office. If she’d had a ruler, she might have.
“How could you do this to me?” Marietta cried. “Did Jax put you up to this? Did he tell you to invite me to dinner so you could trick me into watching this?”
“That’s not why we invited you to dinner,” Tracy denied quickly. “We invited you, because we wanted to have you.” She glanced at Ryan, as though seeking his support. “As for Jax, what did you expect him to do when you won’t take his calls?”
“I expect him to stop calling, that’s what.” Marietta scooted to the edge of the recliner, preparing to rise. “I certainly don’t intend to watch him on television.”
“Wait a minute, Marietta,” Ryan said. “I admit it. We’re guilty as charged. Jax is going to debut his new act tonight, and he asked us to make sure you saw it. What would it hurt to watch him?”
“Yeah, Marietta,” Tracy chimed in. “What would it hurt?”
Ryan had the volume on the television set turned up loud. On screen, the crowd cheers had died down and the absurdly dressed emcee straightened the tails of his tuxedo and yelled into the microphone.
“In a daring show of bravado last week, the villainous Smashing Headhunter unmasked our own Secret Stud, gaining the upper hand in their ongoing battle.”
The crowd greeted the statement with a chorus of boos. Marietta told herself to get out of the chair and walk away from the set, but couldn’t seem to move.
“But, as the Smashing Headhunter is about to find out,” the emcee continued, “every action has a reaction.”
A sharp series of bestial barks sounded, closely followed by a prolonged howl. The emcee dropped the microphone, which resounded with a vibrating bang. The camera panned to a large, bare-chested man wearing light-gray trunks and elaborate headwear. He sprinted the length of the walkway to the ring.
“That’s Jax,” Ryan said unnecessarily.
“Yeah, but what’s he wearing?” Tracy sat forward on the sofa, her attention on the tube. “Are his trunks made of fur?”
With animal-like grace, Jax grabbed a piece of rope and pulled himself to the edge of the ring. He howled another time before vaulting the ropes and picking up the microphone. The camera closed in on him.
His face was exposed, but his thick, chocolate-colored hair was covered with the ugliest hat Marietta had ever seen. An animal’s head, punctuated by a pointed nose and a feral, tooth-baring grin, stared out at the audience.
“Omigod, what’s that on top of his head?” Tracy asked in obvious horror. “What on earth is he supposed to be?”
Jax let out another series of sharp barks, and, quite suddenly, Marietta knew. Her breath snagged in her throat as she tried to get her brain to grasp what he was so obviously trying to tell her. Her heart thumped against the wall of her chest, threatening to break it down.
“You saw the end of an era when Smashing Headhunter brutally ripped off the mask of the Secret Stud.” Jax spoke into the microphone with dramatic flair. He sounded as commanding as any actor who ever starred in an action flick. “Unmasked, the Stud not only lost his mystique but his passion for wrestling.”
The crowd lustily voiced its displeasure, from resounding boos to disbelieving screams to loud sobbing. A teenage girl, crying inconsolably, appeared on screen. Painted across her forehead were the words, “I love you.” “Secret” was written on her right cheek, “Stud” on her left.
“But I assure you that the unmasking of the Secret Stud will not go unavenged. Today, you bear witness to that. For out of the ashes rises a newer, better, more determined wrestler. Out of the ashes. . .” He paused to give four rapid barks in succession, yowls that arrowed straight to Marietta’s heart and stuck. “. . . rises Coyote Man.”
“Coyote Man?” Tracy’s voice rose an octave. “Please tell me he didn’t just say Coyote Man?”
Marietta tried to confirm Jax’s new wrestling identity, but her throat was so strangled with emotion that she couldn’t speak. Ryan nodded. “That’s what he said, all right. I guess that explains why he’s wearing the fur trunks and that coyote face.”
“But that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Tracy exclaimed.
“As Coyote Man,” Jax continued, “I propose to lead a new order of the Ultimate Wrestling Association which I will call the Coyote Pack. I implore my fellow wrestlers to leave an organization that allows barbarians such as the Smashing Headhunter to impose their own rules and to join me in the pack.”
He paused. “Together, we can strike fear in the hearts of villains, because you know what they say about coyotes.” He stroked the gray fur of his trunks. “Stay as fur away from them as possible.”
Ryan chuckled. “Gosh, the man can tell a joke. I don’t understand why he decided to be Coyote Man instead of The Comedian, like I suggested.”
Marietta could no longer handle the emotions churning through her. Tears seeped out of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
“Mari? Are you crying?” Tracy got up from the sofa and came to Marietta’s side, smoothing the hair back from her face. Her eyes were wide with shock. “I don’t think I’ve seen you cry like that since the fourth grade when Billy Bob Jones knocked you down on the playground and kissed you smack on the lips.”
Her sister’s sympathetic stroking only made Mari cry harder.
“Don’t cry, honey. Jax’s joke wasn’t that bad.” Tracy screwed up her forehead. “Okay, I admit it. It was that bad. But that’s no reason to cry.”
“I’m not crying about the joke,” Marietta managed to choke out.
“It’s the act then, isn’t it? It’s really dumb, I know, but maybe they go for things like that in the Ultimate Wrestling Association. Don’t they have a wrestler named Mexican Jumping Ben who hops around the ring? That’s even worse than the coyote nonsense, and it hasn’t ruined his career.”
Marietta sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I’m not crying because I think Jax has ruined his career.”
Tracy took a tissue Ryan produced and gently wiped the still-falling tears from Marietta’s cheeks. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because he loves me,” Marietta sobbed.
Tracy looked confused, delightedly so. “I know he loves you, and Ryan knows he loves you. But how come, all of a sudden, you know?”
“Because he’s Coyote Man,” Marietta said. The pair still looked at her blankly. “Don’t you get it? Coyotes mate for life.”
On the television, Jax barked as he circled a hulking wrestler who was pointing at his chest and yelling, “You want a piece of me?”
Jax ran full speed toward the ropes, turning at the last second so he could use them to propel himself into the other man’s body. He slammed into his opponent, and they went down in a tangle of brawn and muscle.
“Coyote Man.” Tracy sighed as she watched the wrestlers battle it out. “Isn’t that just the most romantic thing?”
Marietta made a valiant effort to stop crying, because she had things to do. Her next step was as clear as the whites of the coyote eyes on the ugly hat that had fallen off Jax’s head and stared sightlessly at the arena ceiling. “Ryan, do you know where the UWA wrestles next?”
“Miami. Tomorrow night.”
“If I make the plane reservation, could you get me a ticket? The best one left in the house? No expense spared.”
The mammoth wrestler on the television set squeezed Jax, the man Marietta had just realized she didn’t want to live without, into a bear hug and lifted him off his feet.
“As soon as Gargantuan Garth puts Jax down, I’ll get right on it.” Ryan’s eyes never left the screen as he mused. “Wonder if Smashing Headhunter’s going to show tonig
ht or if he’s staying fur away.”
“Just one more thing, Ryan.” Marietta winced as Jax hit the mat with a loud bang. “I want it to be a surprise, so don’t tell him I’m coming.”
Gargantuan Garth leaped and hovered airborne over a prone Jax before falling on him.
“That’s so romantic I think I’m going to cry,” Tracy said.
Chapter 25
The roving strobe lights in the arena in Miami illuminated the fans with streaks of red, orange and yellow as they broke into the series of yaps, barks and whines that had quickly become the Coyote Man’s trademark.
“Yip, yip, yap.” The chant built to a crescendo as more and more voices chimed in. “Woof, woof, woof.”
Jax stood in the ring, one foot resting on the chest of Smashing Headhunter, his vanquished archenemy. He tried to will away the headache that had been brewing since he’d talked to Ryan the night before.
Yes, Ryan had managed to get Marietta in front of a television set. Yes, she saw the debut of Coyote Man. No, he didn’t know why she’d turned off her answering machine and wasn’t answering her cell phone.
The entire scenario was enough to make a man go stark raving mad. Jax knew, with soul-deep certainty, that Marietta loved him. Just as he knew she’d spurned him, not because of his lie, but because she was afraid he couldn’t form a pair bond.
By becoming Coyote Man, he’d hoped to prove that, like the animal he portrayed, he mated for life. Maybe his message hadn’t gotten through. Either that, or Marietta hadn’t wanted to listen to it.
The entire sorry mess was robbing the joy from his life. Even inside the ring, one of the places he’d always loved best, she was all he could think about.
Because it was expected of him, as Leader of the Pack, Jax raised his arms high into the air. He emitted the long, drawn-out howl that he and Star Bright had decided would signify victory.
He removed his foot from Smashing Headhunter, who struggled to his feet, holding his head as he went into a theatrical stagger around the ring.
“On this night, I vow revenge,” Smashing Headhunter shouted. “Coyote Man has howled his last time at my expense.”
The script called for Jax to turn three-hundred-sixty degrees, extolling the crowd to continue their joyous barking before he let out an in-your-face howl.
Jax got two-hundred-seventy degrees through his rotation when he stopped. A pregnant woman dressed in unattractive tweed who looked uncannily like Marietta was walking down the aisle through the cheering masses. Lights were shining in his eyes so he squinted, trying to get a better look.
“Jax, what are you doing?” Smashing Headhunter whispered through his snarl. “Why aren’t you howling?”
Jax barely heard him as the woman approached, and the impossible became reality. Marietta. The pregnant woman in the awful tweed was Marietta. She stopped just short of the ring, and their eyes met. He could barely believe what he saw in hers. Respect, affection and love.
“Howl, Jax.” Smashing Headhunter was right next to him, whispering furiously in his ear. “Howl now.”
The other wrestler’s words penetrated the haze that had enveloped Jax. He grinned, wide and long, before he threw back his head and howled with more gusto than any coyote has ever howled.
When the last of his plaintive cry died down, he gazed back at Marietta. She was smiling at him. Smashing Headhunter pretended to be enraged, but Jax ignored him.
Jax vaulted the ropes and dropped beside Marietta with a soft and graceful plop. He didn’t touch her, but let his eyes rove over her face and then the stomach that was finally showing her pregnancy.
“What are you doing here, Marietta?” Jax said.
“I had to see you.” She bit her bottom lip nervously. It wasn’t his symmetry that had her tongue-tied. It wasn’t even his nearly naked state, although that was plenty distracting. It was the person inside all that gorgeous brawn, the one behind his perfect features. “I tried to get here sooner, but my plane was delayed, and I missed the beginning—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he interrupted. “I meant why are you here?”
“Because,” she said, no longer afraid of what she was about to tell him, “last night I realized I was in love with a coyote.”
The well-proportioned sides of his mouth lifted in unison, producing a dazzling smile. “Do you mean that?”
“With all my heart. I’ll have to dig harder for answers in my profession. Biology is an excellent tool when it comes to the interplay between the sexes.” Her gaze roved over the enthralling symmetry that she’d recently realized was just a tiny part of his appeal. “But it can’t explain everything.”
Marietta took a step forward, intending to go into his arms, when she realized the entire arena had gone quiet. She turned her head left, then right, gradually comprehending that all eyes in the place focused on them. A dramatic strobe light played over the crowd before bathing them in yellow.
“Everybody’s staring at us,” she whispered to Jax.
He gathered her into his arms. “Then now’s a good time for you to tell me you’ll marry me. Then I’ll have witnesses.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m not going to let you get out of this one. Like the coyote, I pair for life.”
“Of course I’ll marry you,” she said near his lips, “but only if you promise not to howl at home.”
He laughed and kissed her as every one of the fifteen thousand wrestling fans inside arena threw back their heads and howled.
Epilogue
Ten months later
Marietta hung up the phone and let the joy course through her. She raised her arms in the air and did a little dance around the empty kitchen, the skirt of her pretty summer dress floating around her bare legs.
Jax would approve.
His philosophy was to be happy and not take life so seriously.
Marietta was still working on lightening up. Since marrying Jax and giving birth to a healthy baby boy they’d named Trey, however, she had being happy down pat.
She hurried onto the back deck she and Jax had added to her Old Towne Alexandria townhouse after they’d move in together, her good news brimming on her lips. Jax sat on a mesh rocker with their seven-month-old son Trey asleep in his arms. Ryan and Tracy were side by side on a two-seated glider, their hands linked and resting over Tracy’s pregnant stomach. At three months along, Tracy was barely showing but she was already wearing maternity clothes.
“Want to hear a really good Knock Knock joke, Ry?” Jax was already speaking as Marietta slipped through the French doors into the pretty June afternoon that smelled of freshly mowed grass and the barbecue lunch they’d just eaten.
Say no, Marietta prayed.
“Love to,” Ryan said.
Jax beamed, looking so handsome and dear Marietta could almost forgive him from what she knew was coming.
“Knock, knock,” Jax said.
“Who’s there?” Ryan asked.
“Boo.”
“Boo who?”
“Don’t cry, baby,” Jax said. “It’s just a joke.”
Jax laughed so loudly, it was a miracle Trey didn’t wake up. Ryan joined in, his laughter every bit as boisterous. Tracy met Marietta’s eyes, grimaced and shuddered. Marietta understood why. Since Trey had been born, Jax was a fountain of corny jokes about babies.
Jax finally stopped laughing. “Who was that on the phone, Marietta?”
She forgot about his truly awful joke in an instant. “National Public Radio! Remember last year when I was a guest on All Things Considered? They’ve invited me back!”
“That’s terrific,” Jax said.
“Congratulations,” Ryan added.
“Uh-oh,” Tracy said.
Marietta wrinkled her nose at her sister. Tracy’s hair was back to its natural honey-blonde shade, but was cut so haphazardly it seemed to spring from her head in all directions. Tracy called the haircut “bed-head chic,” the perfect cut for the busy expectant mother.
“Why uh-oh?” Mari
etta asked.
“This is the show where you talked about Motherhood without Males, right?” Tracy asked.
“I touched on that,” Marietta said. “Mostly I discussed mate switching and how humans are genetically predisposed to separate.”
“So how will you explain Jax and the baby?” Tracy demanded.
Marietta had already figured that out. In fact, she’d been researching new theories on evolution and the sexes from almost the moment she’d admitted she was in love with Jax.
“Tracy has a point,” Jax said. “One of the reasons All Things Considered had you on the show last time is that you’re a controversial figure. They probably expect you to talk about another lightning-rod subject.”
“Such as?” Marietta asked.
“Fatherhood without Females?” he suggested. “Hey, that reminds me of a joke.”
“Don’t you want to hear mine first?” Marietta asked before he could share it. Three pairs of puzzled eyes turned toward her.
“You don’t tell jokes, Marietta,” Jazz said gently.
Really? Well, she’d see about that.
“I meant don’t you want to hear about what I plan to talk about on NPR?” she asked. “I’ve already got it figured out.”
“Absolutely.” Jax indicated the chair next to him with a nod. She sat down. He reached out with the hand not cradling their baby and touched her arm. A shiver ran through her, the way it always did when he touched her.
“It’s a new theory,” Marietta said. “I’m calling it After the Sperm.”
“Catchy,” Jax said.
“I’m going to talk about the benefits to the child from having the involvement of a father.”
“So far, so good,” Jax said.
“In fact, the more fathers, the better,” Marietta stated with a flourish. Then she waited.
“Now you’re talk. . .” Jax’s voice trailed off. “Huh?”
“Some indigenous cultures encourage a woman to have multiple sexual partners because it’s believed that repeated insemination is good for the fetus,” Marietta said.
The Misconception Page 28