“Okay, how many does this serve?” She stretched across the table to read the text beside the photo. “I can’t see what it says.”
“Up to sixty. Just right.”
“Okay, let’s order it.”
After providing the baker with dates and times and determining the cost, they left with Constance at the wheel. Marilyn thought for Dunleith. But Constance turned west and soon crossed the bridge across the Mississippi River. Marilyn turned and looked at her daughter. “What now?”
“You’ll see.” Constance pulled an online map from her purse and began turning soon after reaching Vidalia. Eventually they arrived at a dress shop called Billie’s.
“You’re determined to help me find a dress. I doubt very much I’ll find something here.”
“We can look.”
Ten minutes later, Constance found Marilyn looking through a rack of long dresses.
“No, ma’am. Try this.”
Marilyn looked at the classic dress. Short, black. Peplum lace, cap sleeves. Not what she would select for a wedding, but chic, ultra feminine, and stunning. “You’re sure?”
“Try it on.”
“Okay.” Marilyn asked the salesclerk to direct her to the fitting room. She laid her clothes gently over the door, slipped on the dress, and turned toward the floor-length mirror. Her lips opened with a soft, “Wow.” Constance picked a winner. The dress stopped about two inches above her kneecap, the lace of the bodice flaring out about three inches below the waist, making the waistline look slimmer. She didn’t want to look better than the bride, but…
When she redressed and came back out, Constance was holding a pair of satin heels with peep toes and crystals adorning the tops in one hand. In the other were a crystal stretch bracelet and crystal-accented chandelier earrings. Marilyn shook her head. “You’ve been busy.”
She smiled at her mother. “I wanted to see the dress on you.”
“You can. At the wedding.”
“You liked it!”
“You, my dear, have excellent taste. Now, what’s all this?”
“They will go beautifully with the dress. What do you think?”
“I think I’m set if the shoes fit. Thank you. Now if I can get all this in my suitcase.”
“When is your flight?”
“Tomorrow. Three thirty.”
“No, that won’t do. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, and we have reservations for a typical Southern meal at the Castle Restaurant. I had all our rooms reserved until Saturday. I want us to enjoy the lighting of the Christmas tree and the street decorations Friday night.”
“Oh, Constance. I really have so much to do at work. I’m getting calls from unhappy clients.”
“Mom, this is important to me. You will only be here a couple of days for the wedding. Please, let’s enjoy this time together. It will be so busy then.”
Marilyn saw the intensity in Constance’s face. The pleading look she remembered when her daughter was growing up. She gave in to it then, and she couldn’t help but give in now. “Of course. I want this time to be memorable for you. For all of us. The grumbling clients will have to get over it. I’ll call and see if I can change my flight to Saturday.”
Constance hugged her mom, dropping earrings on the floor as she wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Thanks, Mom.” She released her and stepped back. “I love you so much.”
Marilyn felt her eyes fill. “Oh, sweetheart, I love you, too.” Why had she been so work oriented that she had forgotten what was really important? She had already learned much from this trip. Obviously God was working on her. Well, He surely needed to.
Constance drove Marilyn to the Dairy Barn. “Justin and I have plans for you guys tonight. We will pick you up here at five. Wear something comfortable but nice.
“I’ve had more advice on what to wear in two days than all my life.”
“Sorry. You just seem to have so many professional clothes. We relax more down here. Jeans, tennis shoes or flip-flops. You look so uncomfortable all the time.”
“I have professional clothing because that’s what I need in my world. And pajamas.”
“That needs to change.” Constance leaned over and kissed Marilyn’s cheek. “Don’t be hurt. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“No, I don’t think so. But we’ll work on it.”
Marilyn glared at her daughter. “You do that. I’ll see you at five.” She forced a smile as she got out of the car.
“Don’t forget to change your flight.”
Marilyn nodded without turning around. She didn’t know if she was hurt or angry.
The door opened as Marilyn reached for the doorknob.
“Hi, kid. Wondered if ya’ll would ever get back. Have a good day?” Beau searched Marilyn’s face to detect her mood. She looked tired and not happy at all. “Didn’t have a good time? You look angry.”
Marilyn sat on the couch and hugged her purse to her chest. “Do you analyze everything? My breakfast, my clothes, now my mood?”
“It’s not hard, hon. You’re like an open book. Thought lawyers had to keep their emotions intact. I’d love to watch the expressions on your face in the courtroom.”
“Good thing you’ll never have the opportunity.”
He laughed. “You never know.” He sat down by her. Put his arm on the back of the couch behind her. “Since we’re family now, I just might come visit.” He lowered his arm to cross her shoulders. He felt her cringe. He hugged her.
She lifted her arm and removed his. “So proud you care, Beau, but I’d sooner be left alone.”
“Seems to me that is your problem already.”
She turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re lonely, Marilyn. You close yourself off. Why?”
She looked down a minute. Two. Three.
Beau waited.
“I’m not really sure.” She looked at him again. “Ever since Dan died, I have had the responsibility for everything. I have known no one cares one way or another what happens to me. Constance was a child, so she needed my attention. At work my boss gives me accolades if I win cases and bring in large settlements. Then he walks off and thinks nothing of me as a person. I have feelings, but no one with whom to share them.” She reached over and patted his hand. “Thanks, Beau, for treating me like family. I’m sorry I seem so high maintenance, but truth is, I’m really not. Just not used to anyone in my life but my daughter. No one to care what I eat or if I had a good day. I guess I don’t know how to accept someone might be concerned and be gracious to them for it.”
“First of all, if you’d rekindle your relationship with the Lord, you’d see how much He loves you. He cares about everything you do. Beau stroked her hair. It was soft. He was gentle. She didn’t push his hand away. “Marilyn, you need a little coddling. And some fun. Let’s try to have a good time tonight with the kids. They are so excited about doing this for us.”
She smiled. “You’re right, Beau. Let’s do enjoy ourselves. They deserve it. I guess we do, too. And may I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What is coddling?”
Beau’s laughter rose from his gut. “You don’t know what coddling means?”
Marilyn wasn’t smiling. “You think I would have asked if I did?”
“Well, it’s cooking below the boiling point, for one. For two, it’s like pampering.”
“So which do you think I need?”
Laughing, he caught her chin, brought her face closer, and kissed her forehead. “Sweetheart, I think you may need a little of both.” He examined her pretty mouth, watched her lips part, and gently touched them with his. Soft and sweet. He pulled away before he became captivated and lost his senses, surprised she had not broken the embrace first. He sat back, waiting for her response.
“Now, was that cooking below the boiling point or pampering? I mean it was coddling, right?” Her smile eased his mind.
“See, you’re being human already.”
“Oh, so I wasn’t even human?”
“Hmm, almost. You only needed a few lessons. More breakfast, either lunch or snacks, and one of the best kisses you’ve ever had.”
“Arrogant, aren’t you?”
“Goes with being an important cattleman. We think we are all man.”
“I see. Well, the kiss was nice, but I’ll hold my conclusion on the all-man thing until all evidence is in.”
“Spoken like a lawyer.”
“I prefer attorney.” She got up and walked toward the stairs.
“Yes, ma’am. Attorney it is. See you down here about five. That’s when the kids are picking us up.” He watched her climb the steps. His statement dangled in the air. He felt his lips with his fingers. They were still tingling.
Marilyn steadied herself as she walked up the stairs. She didn’t want Beau to see how he had affected her. After closing the door to her room, she headed for the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she noticed light blotches of pink dotting her face while her cheeks shone like a setting sun. Her fingers touched her lips as she tried to extinguish the simmering that lingered, wondering if it was only her imagination. Then she breathed air in and out, washed her face with cold water, and pushed the feeling aside. Like when the witness on the stand had been dismissed, and Marilyn could head back to her seat, another one down.
To truly cleanse her mind, Marilyn emptied her briefcase and began making notes on a current case that she would face when she returned home. The alarm sounded at four, reminding her she needed to shower and change for the evening. A funny feeling hit her stomach. Like the witness was called back to the stand. She would be bolder.
After her shower, she walked to the closet. What would she wear? She had not packed changes for day and evening. Nice but casual, Constance had said. Huh. She searched and found the black pants she had intended to wear on the plane home. She pulled a pajama top out. Could it serve as something to wear out? Why not? No one seemed to like the alternative. Marilyn slipped the black and gray T-shirt over her head and stretched it to cover the top of her slacks. She pulled the long sleeves down so the cuffs would cover her wrists and walked to the bathroom mirror to examine the look. Not bad. She twisted her hair into a side ponytail before applying makeup. One step back, a sigh of approval, and she grabbed her jacket and joined the party waiting for her downstairs.
“Mom!” Constance’s expression showed her approval. “You look great. And young.”
Justin agreed, and Beau said nothing. He just looked at her, his face void of expression.
“Thanks, honey. You ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Marilyn followed Constance out, Beau and Justin following behind.
After settling in the backseat and buckling her belt, Marilyn glanced over at Beau. He was staring ahead, no expression on his face. She wondered if he was bipolar. He probably thought she was. Finally, she whispered, “Aren’t we supposed to have fun?”
He turned his head and faced her, his expression stoic for a few seconds. Then he smiled. She got the impression it was feigned. “I got a call about an hour ago. Two of my cows have been found dead. If more die, it would be really bad news. I don’t have a clue what it could be.”
“I’m sorry, Beau. When will you know?”
“I have my men out looking. They’ll call. Meanwhile, the vet is on his way to check the dead ones. You know, I know them all.” He shook his head. “Hey, it’s all a part of it. I’ll enjoy myself, I promise.” He winked at her. And then the smile faded.
Marilyn gave what he said some thought. In her mind, she always placed people in groups. Professionals like herself, who entered tall buildings through glass and chrome doors and dressed in suits, one category. Funny, she placed doctors, dentists, and medical workers in a separate group. Then there were people like Beau. She pictured them in overalls, driving tractors, feeding cows, growing crops, sitting in small-town beer joints, and spitting tobacco. And, of course, the blue-collar workers, standing on an assembly line, their work tedious, metal lunch box, and a thermos keeping the coffee warm.
Maybe she was wrong. When did she begin to think like that? Her childhood had been simple. Her father owned his own hardware store in small-town USA. But she had gone to law school and met Dan. Refined. Handsome. Son of distinguished mother-and-father attorneys. She got caught up in their lifestyle. Yes, they went to church, but now she wondered why. Was it from the heart or pretentious? Networking? Socializing? Marilyn loved Dan deeply and until now never considered he had faults or was wrong or wasn’t all he seemed. It hurt. But now she was beginning to see things in another light. In his own world, Beau was obviously a professional, too. And he seemed to care, not only about the profit, but about the animals he tended. She searched her soul. Did she really care about her clients? The answer caused her pain, as well.
The car pulled to a stop. Marilyn looked out but couldn’t tell where they were. Justin and Beau got out and walked around to open the ladies’ doors. Beau and Marilyn followed Justin and Constance down the street. They stopped in front of the Eola Hotel. Marilyn wondered why. But she followed the children in. Marilyn stopped and stared at her surroundings, momentarily forgetting her depressing thoughts.
“Oh my. This is beautiful.” She looked around the lobby at the lovely antiques, the oil paintings, fountains, green marble columns, and then upward to the chandeliers and finally the painted ceiling. Cherubs graced the ceiling, floating amid flowers and ribbons. Real cedar and pine boughs laden with berries and ornaments wound their way up columns. A Christmas tree stood tall, displaying colorful balls and tinsel. The decorations reminded Marilyn that Thanksgiving was the next day and Christmas and Constance’s wedding were around the corner. “How old is this hotel?”
Justin opened a brochure. “Opened in 1927. Named after the developer’s daughter. Seven stories with balconies that overlook the river.” He looked up at Marilyn. “We can tour the courtyard and dining areas.”
Just like a man—not big on descriptions; just get to the bottom line. But Marilyn smiled at Justin and thanked him.
They walked through the palm-filled New Orleans–style courtyard and paused to study the fire-and-water fountain. They continued through the dining areas, through arched doorways, and around stately columns—throughout an exuberant interior.
When they returned to the street, Marilyn thanked the kids for the tour, only to see a horse-drawn carriage appear when Justin whistled the driver over. He paid and bowed with an offered hand to his companions to climb aboard.
“This is a real treat, son.” Beau actually looked happy in spite of his problems.
“Oh, this is not the finale, Dad.”
Marilyn remembered what Beau had said about their surprise. She hoped she could show her excitement so they wouldn’t know it was suspected.
The driver urged the horse on and took them through town. Main Street was still blocked as the decorating continued on the huge tree. But the driver skirted close to it before turning so they could see the work in progress.
Beau had not seen it and leaned forward to shout to the driver and anyone else within earshot, “That’s one big tree, man.”
People on the sidewalk turned and stared. Marilyn cringed and settled back further in her seat. The ride, though, was amazing. They rode by antebellum homes flanked by large white columns and resting under moss-laden trees. She shivered from the cold and slipped on her jacket before folding her arms over her body to hold in the heat.
Justin held the back of the seat, stood, and whispered something to the driver, and soon they were back at the Eola. They thanked the driver while Beau took out a large bill and handed him a gratuity.
Marilyn assumed Justin had included that in his fare, but the “all-man” couldn’t help himself. She guessed it went with the territory.
Assembled back in the car, Justin drove to a parking area near the river. When they stopped,
he turned to the back. “Surprise, guys. We are going on a Natchez Dinner Jazz Cruise.”
Even better. Marilyn was delighted. “Wonderful. Absolutely fantastic.”
“There’s the lawyer word again.” But Beau seemed excited, too.
On deck, they stood along the railing to enjoy the view, waiting for the buffet to be served when they embarked.
Marilyn patted Justin’s shoulder. “This has been the best evening I can remember in a long time. Thank you and Constance for planning this for us.”
Beau agreed, and then said to Marilyn, “Even better than earlier today?”
“Whoa.” Justin stood straighter. “What does that mean?”
Marilyn felt her face grow warm. She retorted, “Nothing. Your dad’s being funny. So, is everything in order for the big day? Constance picked out my dress today.”
Justin rescued her. “Bet you’ll look like a million bucks.”
Marilyn laughed. “Not sure about that, but I love the dress.”
A shrill noise squealed through the air. The captain introduced himself and told them the riverboat was leaving the bank. The passengers found a spot to watch the paddle in action. Muddy water swirled around the wheel as they pulled toward the middle of the Mississippi River. A few minutes later, the captain announced dinner. While they were eating and the jazz band played “Ain’t Misbehaving,” Beau knocked over a glass of tea onto Marilyn’s lap.
Beau watched Marilyn run up the stairs when they arrived back at the Dairy Barn. They had both thanked the kids for a wonderful evening, but Beau knew it ended when he knocked over his drink. How clumsy could he get? She was wet from the waist down and freezing. He had taken his jacket off and covered her lap. She was brave, finishing her meal, listening to the band, and applauding and laughing appropriately, but he knew she was miserable.
Beau called his ranch manager and inquired about his dead cows. He was told they found one more, but all the rest seemed fine. So far. He and the vet had loaded one on Beau’s trailer and taken her to the office. They wouldn’t know until the next day. Beau thanked him, changed his clothes, and got in bed.
Plantation Christmas Weddings Page 4