by Kim O'Brien
“Oh.” She blinked. “I can explain.” But could she?
“The minute I graded your premarital exam, I knew there were problems,” Pastor Bruce continued.
“Have a cookie,” Laney said, because short of confessing everything, she couldn’t think of much else to say. She ripped open a bag of carob-chip cookies.
Pastor Bruce broke off a small piece. “I planned to wait until this coming Sunday for your next premarital workshop session, but I’ll just tell you right now.”
“Tell me what?”
“The premarital exam you and Rock took last week. . .” The pastor absently pushed the books on the table. When he looked up, his round face looked truly apologetic. “You failed.”
“We failed?” Laney hadn’t known it was possible.
Pastor Bruce nodded sadly. “You scored a perfect zero. In all my years of counseling engaged couples, I’ve never seen any couple score so low.”
What was Pastor Bruce talking about? Everyone who saw them together said they made a perfect couple. Rock was always solicitous, opening doors for her, handing her his coat in chilly rooms. They even looked alike, with fair skin and sun-streaked brown hair.
“You and Rock need to talk about things,” Pastor Bruce concluded gravely.
“We talk,” Laney said. She heard the defensive note in her voice. “Just yesterday he left me three pounds of candy bars in a basket on my front steps.”
Laney didn’t add that peanuts gave her a rash or that she never kept chocolate in the store because it could kill Angel if he ate it.
“Obviously you both care a great deal for each other, but you shouldn’t go into a marriage knowing so little about one another.”
“We may not know all the details about each other’s lives,” Laney said, “but we know the important stuff.” She drew a breath and wiped hair off her face. “I love him.”
Pastor Bruce shook his head. “My test is foolproof. Trust me.” He reached for another cookie and broke it in half. “Of course, you know I can’t perform any wedding until the couple passes my premarital test.” He held up his hand before Laney could protest. “I know it sounds like tough love, but believe me, Laney—it’s for your own good.”
“You won’t marry us?” Laney repeated faintly. Rock would pop a vein.
“Not until you pass the test.”
“Can we retest?”
Pastor Bruce beamed. “Absolutely,” he said. “You should go home tonight and call Rock. Start talking and find out everything you can about each other.” Pastor Bruce paused to wag his finger at her. “It’s going to be a different test.”
Laney wondered how to break the news to Rock. He hated to fail at anything. She remembered last year’s Fourth of July family softball game. The score had been tied and the bases loaded with two outs in the ninth inning. Rock had stepped to the plate, then deliberately into the path of her brother’s fastball. He’d received an automatic walk to first base, which had pushed home the winning run.
“I’ll call Rock right away,” Laney promised. “I’m sure the next time we’re going to ace this exam.”
Pastor Bruce smiled and rose to his feet. “I’m glad I came here today.” He brushed cookie crumbs off his peach-colored polo shirt. “I’m sure all these misunderstandings between you and Rock can be worked out.”
Laney looked down at her ring, the symbol of Rock’s love for her. “Me, too.” She remembered how funny it had felt the first days of wearing the diamond and how she wondered if it had been a mistake to accept Rock’s proposal.
She was not blind to Rock’s faults. He valued outward appearances more than she did. He loved his clothing and his convertible ad nauseam. When he did his eyebrow thing, only extreme self-control kept her from crossing her eyes back at him. Perhaps worst of all, he came with a mother who had every promise in the world of making her life miserable.
Yet it was because of these things, not despite them, that Laney had accepted Rock’s proposal. His imperfections gave her the right to be equally imperfect. She’d seen them as two people moving through life in a clumsy sort of manner. Rock was chronically overgroomed. She viewed herself as the family clown, always trying to gain respectability but never quite achieving it.
She’d thought that together they might find a certain grace both currently lacked. And if great passion was missing between them, Laney felt their devotion to each other and a shared love of God would more than make up for it.
Pastor Bruce peered curiously at the plate of sandwiches and the picnic basket. Absently Laney handed him one. Tonight she’d fix Rock a special dinner. They would talk about everything. After tonight they would have no secrets between them, no subject too sensitive to discuss. She would reach for a level of emotional closeness that most couples only dreamed of achieving. She’d even tell him about finding the crumpled note in the church and her failed attempt to help Ty Steele.
“How’s the sandwich?” Laney realized Pastor Bruce had been silent for a while. She loved this about him—his absolute faith in the power of reflection.
“Delicious,” Pastor Bruce responded. “Although I must admit, cucumber and peanut butter is a most unusual combination.”
“It isn’t peanut butter,” Laney said with satisfaction. “It’s hummus. Much healthier.”
Pastor Bruce’s forehead creased in concern. “Isn’t hummus a type of fertilizer?”
Laney laughed. “Not humus. Hummus. You think I fed you fertilizer?”
Pastor Bruce smiled but placed the remainder of the sandwich on the desk. “Of course not,” he managed, then added, “not on purpose anyway.”
“I don’t find that hummurous,” Laney said, deliberately mispronouncing the word.
Pastor Bruce tilted his head to the sky and released a blast of laughter. “You make people laugh, Laney. It’s a gift.” He grasped her forearm with surprising strength. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise or try to change you.”
I just hope Rock feels the same way, Laney thought. If not, she had a sick feeling that all the jokes in the world weren’t going to make him think failing a premarital exam was humorous in the least.
Ten
The doorbell rang near the end of Laney’s shower. She didn’t hear the bell but couldn’t miss Angel’s howls.
Grabbing a towel, she quickly dried herself off and dressed in her favorite denim skirt and a pumpkin-colored T-shirt.
“Rock’s early,” she told the dog who darted between her feet. Angel growled. “You better get used to hearing that name,” Laney warned the dog, “because we’re getting married.”
The dog reached the front door and began to wag his tail. Laney slid back the deadbolt. “Good boy, Angel. That’s a much better attitude.”
When she opened the front door, however, Laney stared straight up into the piercing brown eyes of Detective Ty Steele.
Laney blinked in shock. “Ty?”
“Hello, Laney.”
Laney watched Angel launch himself at the detective. The papillon rolled on his back and shamelessly begged for attention. Ty sighed as if this were the last thing he wanted but knelt and rubbed the dog’s belly.
Angel certainly likes Ty Steele, Laney thought. And the feeling seemed mutual for him. Maybe he should get a dog of his own instead of a guinea pig. Maybe she would let him borrow Angel for a few days.
Straightening, Ty tried to ignore the small dog that stood on his hind feet demanding attention. The detective looked bigger in the doorway, and she had to tilt her chin to look up at him.
She wasn’t wearing heels. That was it. That’s why he seemed so tall.
“May I come in?”
“This really isn’t a good time,” Laney replied. She touched her soaking wet hair. Uh-oh. She felt something foamy. Was that shampoo?
“I’ll just be a moment. All I want is the note.”
“The note,” Laney repeated. She frowned. “You were supposed to come to the pet store.” With Rock due any moment, Ty couldn’t have chose
n a worse time.
“Something came up,” Ty said. “Something that makes it even more important you and I talk about the note you found.”
Wondering what might have happened, Laney pulled the door open wider. Ty walked inside the apartment as Angel raced ahead barking with happiness.
Laney looked around for her purse. The room was so clean it looked vaguely foreign. For her special evening with Rock, she’d wanted everything perfect. Sighing, she put her hands on her hips and tried to remember where her purse might be. She didn’t see it, which confirmed in her mind that putting things away only led to trouble in the long run.
Her hair dripped, leaving a big wet patch on the back of her T-shirt. She could only imagine how she must look. Barefoot, no makeup, and a big gob of soap still in her hair.
“The note,” Ty Steele repeated.
“Okay, okay,” Laney said. “I’m getting it. Stop glaring at me.”
“I’m not glaring at you,” Ty said. “I have a lot on my mind.”
Laney checked behind the couch cushions. If she had more time, she would have explained that women didn’t like to be looked at as if they were about to be arrested. No wonder he was so lonely. And then she remembered where she’d put the note.
She put her hand inside the umbrella stand and pulled out her purse. Her hand trembled slightly as she carefully unfolded the worn paper. She smiled a bit wistfully at the odd tug of her heart and wondered if any other words would move her as much.
Sighing, she gave in to the urge to press the note to her heart. Returning to the living room, she saw Ty staring at a photograph of her and Rock in a twin, heart-shaped frame.
“I’ll give you the note,” Laney said. “But I’m going to ask you to do one last thing for me.”
Ty scowled. “It depends.”
“Read the note aloud, once.”
Ty shrugged and reached out his hand. Reluctantly Laney gave him the yellow paper. Ty cleared his throat and began to read.
My Forever Regret
Our two hearts beat as one,
But suddenly you were gone.
To see your sweet face
would be my saving grace.
You were my moon, sun, and stars
When I held you in my arms.
I thought you would be mine forever;
From this mistake I’ll never recover.
I put my work first and left you alone,
Neglected you shamelessly; your needs went unknown.
You heard me say I loved another.
Didn’t you know I spoke of my brother?
You slipped out of my life
And out of my heart took a slice.
Now when I look at the washing machine,
It looks like something obscene.
An instrument of death, a monster to hate,
Not even when I smashed it did my grief abate.
Depression is my companion, aloneness my friend.
Oh, please, someone, tell me how to make it end.
Ty looked up. His mouth twisted in horror. “You think I wrote that? That has to be the most pathetic excuse for a poem I have ever seen.” He raked his hands through his hair. “It doesn’t even rhyme properly.”
“Well, you were in a rush when you wrote it.” Laney knew she sounded defensive. She frowned, thinking she had expected a different emotion to surface when he read the poem.
“I’d have to have been on drugs to write that,” Ty insisted. He handed her back the paper. “Here. Keep it. Only a completely insane person would think I wrote that.” He laughed humorlessly. “Tell your father he’s a much better sheriff than poet.”
Laney looked at the smile on his face and saw the truth in his eyes. For a moment she clung to the hope that the look was a pose; but when his gaze met hers without flinching, she knew she’d done it again. Her heart sank to her stomach. Her gaze fell to her hands.
“My father didn’t write that poem,” she said miserably. “And apparently you didn’t either.”
She stared at her ring. The fat diamond seemed to wink at her as if she were nothing more than a joke. The enormity of her mistake crushed her to the bone.
She’d made an idiot of herself, sneaking around restaurants and even tailing him to the grocery store. How could she think God would choose her to do His work? It was all true—every Calamity ’Lane joke.
She hung her head in her hands. “I’m such an idiot.”
“You finally believe me.” Ty sighed in relief.
Laney looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I was so sure I wouldn’t mess up things this time.”
Ty coughed and looked away. “It was an honest mistake.”
“Right,” Laney said. “Like anyone else would pick up a note in church and do what I did.” She sniffed. “Can you believe I actually thought God was giving me a chance to make up for all the times I’ve goofed up?”
“I’m sure you meant well.”
Laney shook her head. “I’m the last person who should try to help someone else. I’d probably shove someone off the roof trying to save them from jumping.”
“You’re not so bad,” Ty said in the stilted sort of way that told her clearly he was lying. “Besides, they have safety nets for jumpers these days.”
She tried to laugh, but the noise sounded more like a sob.
“I was only joking,” he said. “I’d trust you to save me if I needed it.”
She looked up, and her hands fell away from her face. “You would?” She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she could at least hope he meant it.
“Sure,” Ty replied. He shifted an inch farther from her on the sofa. She watched his gaze go to the door. “Nobody’s perfect all the time,” he added.
“But I’m imperfect all the time.” Laney nodded. “It’s the truth.”
“It’s not the truth,” Ty replied. “Not just anyone is willing to help a stranger.” For the first time she heard sincerity in his voice. “Believe me—most people are interested only in themselves.”
Laney’s heart began to beat harder, as if the sadness had been a weight that had been removed. Right now she felt closer to him than she ever had to any other person on earth.
“You’re not just interested in yourself, either,” she said. “I remember what you said about helping make schools safer when we were at the grocery store.”
She couldn’t seem to look away from him. He was gazing at her differently, as if he saw something new and good about her.
When his gaze dropped to her hands, she realized she’d been twisting her engagement ring around and around. Of course she would have to tell Rock what had happened. He’d be horrified, but she hoped he would understand.
“I probably should go,” Ty said.
Laney looked up, feeling strangely bereft yet finding she couldn’t think of anything to say to him.
“You might want to wash that shampoo out of your hair before your company arrives,” Ty suggested. His mouth lifted at the corner, and she could see he was trying to coax a smile out of her.
Her cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, well, sorry for all the inconvenience I’ve put you through.” She stood and walked toward the door. “Good luck with the sheriff’s race.”
“Don’t set up any more meetings by that church pond,” Ty warned her. “It’s too isolated.” He paused in the open door. “Take care of yourself, Laney.” And then he was gone.
Eleven
Laney rinsed off the gob of shampoo with the hose in the sink. But before she had time to dry her hair or change into a dressier outfit, the doorbell rang. Hair dryer in hand, she glanced at the bathroom mirror and groaned. This wasn’t the way she’d pictured meeting Rock at the door for their special dinner.
The doorbell rang again, followed by knocking. Angel barked and tugged at the hem of her skirt. Putting down the dryer, Laney combed her damp hair behind her ears. She took a deep breath for courage and headed for the front door.
She’d barely entered the living room when she he
ard a voice call from the other side of the door. “Laney, are you in there?”
She froze. Angel growled. She and the dog exchanged glances. She knew they were thinking the same thing. The voice on the other side of the door belonged to none other than Mother Tilly.
Trying to hide her dismay at the thought of finding her future mother-in-law at her front door when she looked far from her best, Laney swung open the door.
“Laney, we thought you might be dead on the floor,” Tilly Weyeth said, with Rock standing beside her.
Angel charged through the open space and circled the visitors at full speed. He dodged Tilly’s foot as she aimed a kick in his direction.
“Sorry, but I was still getting ready,” Laney said.
“That much is obvious.” Mother Tilly frowned. As if the sight of her future daughter-in-law’s wet hair and bare feet was nearly unbearable, she focused her gaze over Laney’s left shoulder. “Rock said we should come at seven o’clock.”
Laney forced herself not to look at her watch, though she was pretty sure it wasn’t that time yet. “Well, come on in!”
Rock kissed her cheek as he passed her. She caught a whiff of his ginseng-scented aftershave. It smelled as smooth as his freshly shaven cheek against hers. She looked at the shopping bag in his hands. “What’s that?”
“Dinner,” Mother Tilly said, as if she were surprised Laney should have to ask. “I made beef bourguignon, salad, rolls, and a Dutch crumb apple pie for dessert.”
Laney’s gaze found Rock’s. This was supposed to be their evening. His mother wasn’t invited, and neither was her beef bourguignon.
What had happened to the quiet evening she’d planned for them together? Her dinner, vegetarian chili, simmered on the stove; her corn bread heated in the oven; and chocolate ice cream waited in the freezer.
Rock’s smile materialized on his face with the grace of a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat. Laney recognized the expression as one he used to pass off an especially farfetched compliment at the donut table at church. “I invited Mother to join us for dinner tonight.”