by T. Torrest
“Thanks, Gin,” I answered automatically. I gave myself a last look in the mirror before adding, “And also… thank you so much for being here. I don’t think I’d be able to get through today without you guys.”
Virginia hadn’t exactly told me about Anthony’s opposition to this marriage but I’d been able to pick up on his feelings by what she didn’t say. That he sucked it up and came anyway meant the world to me.
I inhaled a deep breath and took my place at the top of the grand staircase. Virginia started down ahead of me, and that was the orchestra’s cue to pipe in. As she took her seat at the front of the audience, I was met with three-hundred-and-twenty-seven other pairs of eyes as the guests craned their necks, hoping to catch a glimpse of me. I didn’t even know most of the people in that room so there was no way to confirm it, but I couldn’t shake the thought that they were judging me. Oh, I knew what they saw. A hot-to-trot divorcee, a social-climbing gold-digger who dared to reach above her status to mingle with The Quality.
Well, get used to it, people.
Fact was, I was good to Beau. I treated him with reverence and kindness. We were content with one another. Maybe it wasn’t the butterfly puppy-love of my youth, but it was a relationship built on mutual respect and admiration. Successful marriages have been built on much less. Hell, most of the people in that room were stuck in marriages of convenience. At least Beau had chosen me.
I held my head high as I made a slow trek down the stairs, willing my legs to hold steady. Once I reached the start of the white aisle runner, I shut out the many eyes aimed in my direction and tried to concentrate on my fiancé’s face. Seeing Beau’s elated grin should have made things a little easier, but instead all it served to do was make me feel worse.
But the longer I looked at him, the more my doubts disappeared. Every step I took down that aisle was a step toward My New Life, and I allowed myself to be excited about it.
I made it down the aisle without incident, beamed at my future husband, and took his hand. As the mayor welcomed everyone, Beau dipped his head close to my ear and whispered, “You look beautiful, Brenda Rosalinda.”
I smiled, the uncertainty from earlier replaced with anticipation. “Soon to be Brenda Rosalinda Brummel.”
CHAPTER 26
This Night
BRENDA
Thursday, August 8
1974
“I can’t believe we just watched the president quit!”
Eddie and I were at Zanzibar, glued to the television along with everyone else in the place. Normally, all the sets were tuned to sporting events, but tonight, every screen displayed Richard Nixon’s haggard face. Apparently, the break-in at that D.C. hotel led to an investigation which finally culminated in our president’s resignation, live, on TV.
Unprecedented.
“Good. I’m glad he’s gone, the bum.”
A few people near us cheered at my boyfriend’s words as I dropped my voice to counter, “Don’t say that, Eddie. He did some good things.”
“He did some illegal things. ‘Putting the interests of America first.’ Pfft. Yeah, right.”
“You still have to show some respect. He’s our president!”
Eddie’s brows drew together as his lip curled. “He lied, Bren! He lied to all of us! How can you excuse that?”
I turned my attention back to my Tequila Sunrise, stabbing at the maraschino cherry with my straw. “You don’t know what was going on behind the scenes. Maybe he had a good reason.”
Eddie stared me down for a silent pause before finally cracking a smile as he dropped his head and snickered, “You are just way too sweet, you know that? You might be the only person I ever met who would try to find the good in someone after something like this.”
I gave a shrug and answered, “I’m not running for sainthood. I just think there are always two sides to every story.”
He threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me against his side, laughing as he called down to the bartender. “Hey Davy! Get this gorgeous little hellcat another drink, will ya?”
I was glad to have jogged Eddie out of his anger. Truth was, his latest outburst was par for the course this evening; he’d been moody all night. When he first picked me up, he’d been jumpy and anxious. Then when we didn’t get seats at the bar right away, he was frustrated and complaining. He wasn’t normally so easily irritated, so I was glad to finally see him laughing and being himself. At least for a little while.
Because on the ride home, the moodiness had returned. He was acting skittish again and barely listened to anything I said, much less answered with any sort of appropriate response. I began to wonder why we bothered to play hooky from work tonight if he was just going to spend the whole evening making us both miserable.
It wasn’t until he pulled into the west beach of Lenape Lake that I started to understand. We’d spent plenty of time at that lake over the years, seeing as it was down the street from my old house. That first summer after we’d started dating—and then every summer thereafter—it became one of our favorite places to go.
I stayed mum as he grabbed a blanket from the trunk of his Mustang and led me behind The Westlake Pub, settling us down at the edge of the water. At such a late hour, the beach was abandoned, and I reveled in the promise that filled the balmy, summer air.
He’s going to ask me to marry him.
I knew it more surely than I knew my own name. All his agitation, all his irritability of the past hours was leading to this moment. And now that he was finally doing it, I was the one who was a jumpy, nervous wreck.
“You know my parents are moving to Florida.”
Not exactly the words I was envisioning and the unexpectedness made me laugh. “Eddie, if you brought me here tonight for what I think you brought me here for… talking about your parents isn’t really the most romantic beginning to this story.”
He chuckled, all traces of his anxiety gone. “Just let me explain!” He grabbed my hand and continued, “My point was that I wanted to be in a better position to do this. I wanted to live at home for a little while longer in order to save up some more money before striking out on my own. But I’m not being given that chance.”
I bit my lip, physically restraining my mouth from speaking so I wouldn’t interrupt what was coming next.
“And between your aunt dying and leaving you to scrape by in that crummy apartment, and me looking at doing the same in an even crummier apartment… Well, it just seems that life is trying to tell us something.”
I couldn’t hold my tongue at that one. “Again. My dead aunt and our crummy apartments are hardly romantic, Eddie.”
“Will you stop?” he snickered out. “Just let me get through this.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Basically, you and I work much better as a team. We should be building a life together.” He cut me off before I could object to his reasoning yet again. God, this man had always been able to read me. “And it’s not just because I need a roommate and it’s not just because the timing was determined for us. I’m overjoyed to have the excuse to do this.”
He pulled a ring box from his pocket and cracked it open, revealing a tiny, sparkling diamond in a shiny gold setting. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“I love you and I want our life together to start now. I don’t have two nickels to rub together and I can’t offer you the world and I know you deserve better but I love you. I love you with all my heart and I can promise you I’ll never stop.”
I never thought I’d be the type of girl to cry during such a moment, but I found myself swiping away a tear at my boyfriend’s words. “I love you too, Eddie. You’re my everything.”
He smiled proudly as he pulled the ring from its box. “So, I’m feeling pretty confident about your answer, here, but I’ll ask anyway. Brenda Rosalinda Rinetti… Will you marry me?”
I thrust my left hand in his direction to answer with an elated, “Yes!”
He slipped the band over my finger, and I ba
rely even looked at my new diamond ring before I threw my arms around his neck. He branded his lips to mine before lowering the both of us to the blanket.
I loved this man more than life itself. His heart, his smile, the way he loved me back. He was caring and sweet, funny and cool. And he loves me. This amazing man loved me and wanted to make me his wife. How did I get so lucky? What did I ever do in my life to deserve such an incredible guy? I adored everything about him; I trusted him completely.
Nobody had the kind of love that Eddie and I shared. The term soul mates gets tossed around too often but Eddie and I truly were cut from the same cloth. It was easy to believe that some higher power had determined at the beginning of time that we were always meant for one another.
“Now you’re truly mine. Forever, Bren.”
I could barely see his smiling face through the tears in my eyes but I answered him just the same. “Yes, Eddie. You and me. Forever.”
CHAPTER 27
And So It Goes
EDDIE
Friday, December 24
1982
The wedding ceremony was a simple affair at the county courthouse.
Maxine wore a pink suit that made her look like Jackie Kennedy, and I was dressed in a new black Armani she’d picked out for me. I looked damn good in the thing, but it still felt like I was wearing a costume. I had a strange desire to slip back into my old, gray number. I’d broken it in over the years. Made it mine. That’s the thing about a well-worn suit. It may have been outdated, but it was comfortable.
She’d also brought me to her “stylist” and I was sporting a new, shorter head of hair. The length had been considerably cropped as the years went by, but this new cut was practically a buzz. I felt bald, but I looked good. The times they are a’changin’.
After the madness with my ex-wife back in September, I’d thrown myself into my relationship with my new girlfriend. It was as though I had walked away from that encounter as a new man. Cut off. Separated not only from my ex-wife, but from my past self.
I thought I’d clearly proven to Maxine that I was fully invested in our relationship, and until then, I hadn’t even realized how much of myself I’d been holding back. I doted on her after that night, gave her my undivided attention, gave a hundred percent.
She definitely noticed, and things had been different between us ever since. Better.
I proposed only one short week later, and we were married the next day. Truth be told, I couldn’t quite believe she had accepted my proposal as early as she had. It’s not like I even asked her flat-out if she wanted to marry me; it was more of a suggestion. A testing-the-waters thing. I just turned to her one day and asked, “What would you say to the two of us getting married?” Maxine took my hypothetical question seriously, and before I knew what was happening, we were standing in front of a Justice of the Peace.
We spent our honeymoon in Vienna and the next few months being unbelievably polite to one another. I was good at being her husband. Brought her coffee every morning; ran her errands with her; held her bags while she shopped. And holy crap could that woman shop. After tennis, it was her favorite activity. I’d started to display some decent tennis skills myself. For a guy who’d never played the game before, I picked it up pretty quickly.
Earlier today, I actually won my first match against her. We were presently celebrating my victory with a couple of Chipwiches as we sat on the floor next to our Christmas tree.
“Mmm. These are so good!” Maxine said as she ran her tongue over her lips.
I was actually getting a little turned on, watching as she licked the last of her ice cream. It was strange. I never thought I’d ever be attracted to anyone but Brenda. But Maxine helped me to see very clearly that that wasn’t the case. I happened to find my new wife extremely attractive. Plus, she was fun. And caring. And rich.
Her money afforded us a lifestyle I had never even allowed myself to dream about. I finally started to understand Brenda’s point of view all these years. Having money just made everything so much easier. When you didn’t have to constantly worry about where your next meal was coming from, it left a lot of free time for straight-up living. And Maxine sure as hell knew how to live.
She also knew how to torment me because I’m quite sure she was well-aware of what she was doing to me with that ice cream.
“So good,” I teased back. I ran my tongue up the side of my Chipwich, tossing a devilish wink at my wife.
That made her laugh as she gave me a shove. “You’re a scoundrel, Wilson Edwards.”
I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “In more ways than you’ll ever know.”
That stopped her giggling as her expression turned serious. “Well,” she slithered, dropping to her hands and knees in front of me. She crawled the few inches over to take the last bite of my ice cream, her lips sucking at my fingertips. Her eyes met mine to finish her sentence. “Who says I don’t want to find out?”
She didn’t need to ask me twice. I pounced on her, rolling the both of us across the white shag.
It was seriously shaping up to be the best Christmas I’d had in years.
CHAPTER 28
A Room of Our Own
BRENDA
Sunday, July 4
1976
I didn’t know why everyone always said the first year of marriage was the hardest. Eddie and I had been having a blast.
We’d gotten ourselves a new apartment right in the same building as my old one. Not the greatest neighborhood in Hackensack but I was already used to living there. The apartments on the second floor were a little nicer than the ones on the first, and as it turned out, we were living almost directly over Aunt Judy’s old place. It had miles of plush, deep-pile, green carpet, and the kitchen was to die for.
Most importantly, it was ours.
Since it was so near the downtown, we didn’t even need to leave our living room window to watch the bicentennial celebration happening right around the corner on State Street. Which was a good thing, because neither one of us wanted to leave our air-conditioned apartment.
Even with the AC at full blast, the early-evening heat was positively brutal. The sun was still blaring mercilessly through our front window, asserting itself against the wimpy gust of Freon seeping out of the air conditioning vents. I’d put my long hair into two pigtails, just to keep it from sticking to the back of my neck. Eddie kept saying I looked like Paula from The Magic Garden, and that yes, that was a very good thing. I couldn’t even be mad about his hands all over me all day, even though having him hanging on me wasn’t exactly helping to stave off the heat.
I’d picked up a couple of paintings from Sears and was balancing on a step ladder as I hung them over the stereo cabinet. I’d just finished installing a hook on the ceiling, the perfect spot to suspend my macramé plant holder. I’d made it myself at a free class at the church. Virginia was so happy I agreed to go with her that she bought me a fern to put in it. It looked fantastic next to our wicker bookshelf. Eddie had appointed himself Minister of Knickknacks, so he was busy filling the shelves with all our stuff: The small Thinker statue we’d received at our wedding, a couple of framed photos, and the few books we owned outright. Every day, Eddie and I were getting closer to turning the place into a real home.
Our home.
I’d lived on my own for years, but having Eddie for a roommate sometimes made it feel as though we were playing a game of house. A really, really fun game of house.
“The one on the right is lower, babe.”
I had just placed the second painting on the nail when my husband offered his unsolicited assessment.
“No,” I argued. “No way. I measured!”
I came down off the ladder and stepped back a few paces to see for myself.
Shoot. He was right.
“Crap! How did that happen? I planned it all out beforehand, and now they’re crooked!”
Eddie came over to put an arm around my waist. “Aww, you tried. Don’t worry. We can fix it.”<
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“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” I busted. “Maybe you should divorce me and find a wife who knows how to decorate.”
That made him chuckle. “Maybe I should take you up on that. Hmmm. You think Lynda Carter is good with color?”
I smacked him for that.
He laughed as he grabbed my wrist with his free hand, tightening the hold around my middle as he pulled me toward him for a kiss. We were still smiling as our mouths met, but we both turned serious once he laid us down on the rug.
We’d pretty much had sex in every inch of our apartment already, but I could tell from the first moment Eddie touched me that this wasn’t going to be just sex tonight.
His hand cupped my jaw, pulling my face to his in a kiss so tender, I thought we’d both fall apart. We couldn’t ever seem to get enough of each other. Our entire life together was lived at a level of intensity that for other people, would be impossible to maintain. But that’s just how we were: Full steam ahead. One hundred percent. Love big; live large. When I really allowed myself to think about it, it was almost overwhelming.
That was the thing about Eddie: He could love me and break my heart all at the same time.
We peeled each other’s clothes off, sticky and soggy, the cool air from the AC breezing across our damp skin and providing a brief moment of relief. Eddie flattened my wrists to the floor and lowered his mouth to my collarbone. His lips danced over my shoulder and branded my neck as he trailed kisses along my skin, his voice already hoarse with need as he requested, “Tell me you love me.”
I closed my eyes, breathless as I complied. “I do. I love you, Eddie.”
His palm slid up my side and across to my breast. “Tell me how much you need me.”