by Leger, Lori
From the instant the two older couples were introduced, they took an instant liking to each other. Tiffany stood at the doorway of her kitchen staring out at the three men on the patio, near to bursting with pride for her husband and satisfaction at the turn her life had taken since meeting him four short months ago. Their fathers lounged on the furniture as Red tended to what he’d dubbed the ‘Absolute kick-ass DeLorean of Grills’. Her husband had decided to take advantage of the unusually crisp, clear weather they were experiencing this last weekend before Christmas by breaking in his latest acquisition.
“Ah, the mystery of men and their attraction to cooking anything over an open fire.” Leah’s comment was accompanied by a light touch to Tiffany’s shoulder.
“I’ve always believed it’s stemmed from prehistoric man,” Vivienne added.
Tiffany turned and began an animated dance around the kitchen. “Ehhh…Look what I have created!” she said, in a guttural imitation of Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway. “I have made fire. I—” She slapped her chest. “Have made fire!”
The three women broke into laughter before going back to preparing the mandatory potato salad and baked beans, along with a green salad. Tiffany had baked a lemon meringue pie, knowing it was her father’s favorite, as well as the banana pudding pie that she wanted reviews on as a possible replacement of the requested banana pudding.
“So, Tiffany, do you have your dress for the wedding?” Leah asked her. “I was thinking if you wanted to come and meet me one day, there are some nice shops in Houston.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. It’ll be difficult to find something prettier than the dress Red picked out for our civil ceremony.”
“Red chose your dress?” Leah’s eyes widened.
“Uh huh, along with my shoes, earrings, the matching wedding bands, and my gorgeous dinner ring,” she admitted, thrusting her hands out to show off her rings.
“Oh Tiff, you have to show her the dress,” Vivienne urged her daughter in law. “She was gorgeous, Leah.”
Tiffany brought the two women into the huge master bedroom’s walk in closet. She pulled the dress reverently from its storage bag and hung it on a hook. “I love my dress,” she crooned, over Leah’s gasp of admiration. “I’m bringing it on the honeymoon. I am absolutely determined to get more wear out of it.”
“That is beautiful,” Leah agreed. “What was Red wearing?”
Tiffany pulled out Red’s Armani suit, allowing memories of that afternoon to wash over her. “Oh God, he looked so good in this thing,” she said, closing her eyes and picturing him in it. “I could have just…” Tiffany stopped short, suddenly realizing who she was talking to, as heat infused her face.
The two older women looked at each other and burst into laughter before attempting to assuage her embarrassment.
Vivienne hugged her shoulder. “You know Tiffany, I still look at my husband sometimes, and could just … Especially now that we finally have the house to ourselves. Just because we’re older doesn’t mean we’re dead.”
“Amen to that, sister,” Leah agreed.
Tiffany giggled. “That’s right. You two just got rid of Annie a few months ago, didn’t you?”
Vivienne nodded. “I love my daughter, but no one should have to live with a child until they’re thirty years old.”
Tiffany held up her hands. “Hey, I was out at eighteen!”
“I was too,” Leah said. “I was holding down two jobs and sharing an apartment with a friend of mine.”
“No college, Leah?” Tiffany asked.
“No, I never was that great of a student, unfortunately. The only thing I would have been interested in would have been animal husbandry, and there’s no way I could have made it through those college courses. We’re not all born brilliant, so I just train horses, instead of treating them.”
“Train them for what?” Vivienne asked.
“For rodeos mostly; you know, roping, barrel racing, and pole racing. Some I train for cutting cattle. Some I just break, or gentle, I call it. I love it, and it pays the bills. Daniel bought the house we live in, but my business pays for everything else.”
“Drake said you and Dad live on a ranch outside Houston.”
“Yes, it’s about the size of this one, but the house is smaller. I love this home of yours Tiffany—this is fantastic.”
Vivienne grinned at Tiffany. “Let’s show her the pool.”
“You have a pool in the back yard? I haven’t had a chance to look around yet,” Leah said.
Tiffany smiled as they walked back into the kitchen. She covered the potato salad and checked on the baked beans. “Are we done in here, ladies?”
“Yep, the salad is ready to go,” Vivienne said, as she placed the bowl in the fridge.
“Does anyone want a refill before we go out there?” Tiffany held up the bottle of wine.
“I do,” Vivienne said, holding out her glass.
“I could use some too,” Leah answered. “You girls have me curious about this pool thing.”
Tiffany smiled as she refilled both ladies wine glasses then grabbed a bottle of water for herself. “Let’s not keep you in suspense.” Tiffany followed them outside, feeling Red’s hungry gaze on her as she played hostess. She opened the door to the pool house to let the two other women inside, using the opportunity to send her husband a wink. The heated look he sent in return had her immediately moist with need, and imagining what she could do to the man if they didn’t have company.
Christmas morning started early for Red and Tiffany. By nine a.m. their home was filled with the aromas of roasting turkey, breads, and other delicious treats. Thanking God for the extra wall oven, she’d just taken the last two pies out when the doorbell signaled the first of their guests. Within seconds, Red walked in with Annie.
“Hey sister-in-law,” Annie called out jovially. “I’m not the first one here, am I?”
“Yep. But it’s not a problem…somebody had to be,” Tiffany said, giving her a hug. “Hey, go check out our new acquisition in the living room. We figure if anybody would appreciate it, you and my brother Drake would.”
“Close your eyes first,” Red commanded while leading her slowly into the corner of the living room.
Tiffany followed closely, anxious to see her reaction. “Now, look!” she said, clapping gleefully as Annie screamed with delight at the Steinway grand piano.
“It’s beautiful!” Annie said, dropping onto the plush bench and placing her fingers reverently on the keys. “Where’d it come from?”
“It was my parents,” Tiffany said. “It’s been sitting in my mother’s music room for three decades. Nobody’s touched it since Drake left for college so dad had it delivered here. He always called it ‘the overpriced dust collector’.”
Annie played a scale or two and beamed at Tiffany. “Perfectly tuned,” she said before stretching her fingers. “Any requests?”
“Do you know Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major?” Tiffany said, hoping she did. “It’s always been my favorite to relax to, and I sure could use some relaxing right now.”
“Any pianist worth her salt knows Canon from memory,” Annie said.
“Well, I would appreciate it if you’d play for me while I finish up the meal,” Tiffany pleaded.
“It’ll be a pleasure on this instrument.” Annie closed her eyes and positioned her fingers on the keyboard.
Tiffany relaxed her shoulders and sighed, as the notes floated throughout the vaulted ceilings of the living area and kitchen of their home. “Beautiful.” She and Red returned to the meal preparation in the kitchen.
“Hey,” Annie called out several minutes later, as she played the last haunting notes of the song. “I thought Drake was coming early so we could practice the duet together. I’m a little nervous about it.”
Tiffany’s gaze clashed with Red’s. “Uh, yeah, he should be here any minute.” She sidled up close to her husband. “She’s going to hate us when she sees him,” she whispered.
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Red shrugged. “Maybe at first, but she’ll get over it.” He pulled his wife into his arms. “Besides, if he’s as ate up over her as I think he is he’ll find a way to make her listen to him. I mean, hell, Doc, I got you to marry me and we didn’t exactly get off to a glorious start.”
“Well, that was your fault. I was just trying to do my damn job.” Tiffany looped her arms around his waist and stood on tiptoes to nibble on his neck.
“Mm,” he growled into her ear. “I was just trying to help.”
She slid her hands down onto his butt and pulled him close. “If you hadn’t been so insulting, maybe I would have been more willing to listen to you. I mistook you for a dumb jock.” Annie’s groan had them both facing the doorway.
“Oh my God, would you two stop that? You’re preparing food, for chris-sake!”
The shrill ringing of the phone cut through the air. “Annie, could you catch that, please?” Tiffany placed her hands back on her husband’s firm butt. “My hands are sooo full right now.”
Annie pivoted at the doorway of the kitchen and grunted in disgust. “If you stop now maybe I’ll have my appetite back by lunchtime.” She picked up the cordless. “Merry Christmas from the McAllisters! Who are you calling for—the doc or the jock?”
“Is—Tiffany there?”
“Tiffany’s hands are a little full right now.” She turned her back on the smooching couple. “This is Annie McAllister, the jock’s sister. Who may I say is calling?”
“Oh. Annie.” A long pause followed.
“Are you there?”
“Yeah. Um. This is Drake, her brother.”
“Oh Drake! The lawyer slash composer of that beautiful piano piece. Will you be here soon so we can practice together?” Why did his voice sound so familiar to her?
“I’m stuck in traffic on I-10 just east of the state line. A tanker overturned in the median and both sides of the roadway are shut down.”
“I hope no one was hurt,” Annie said. “Put the radio station on FM 96.5, and you should be able to hear the most updated traffic reports. Hang on, Drake.” She carried the phone over to Tiffany. “You think you could unhand my brother long enough to speak to yours? He’s stuck on I-10.”
Tiffany grinned, and lifted one hand to grab the phone while keeping a tight hold on her husband’s right butt cheek. “Hey, what’s up brother mine?”
“Tanker overturned, Sis. Haz-mat’s here already but it could still be awhile. Does Annie suspect anything?”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” she said, her voice sounding muffled as a giggle escaped.
Drake craned his neck, trying to see further ahead of him. “This is just my damned luck. I wanted to get there early and clear the air before anyone else arrived.”
“I know you did,
but it can’t be helped. If you get here too late, we’ll have to send Vivienne and Pete outside later so that you two can have at least one practice session when you get here.”
“I don’t know when they’ll let us through. It could take hours.”
“It’ll all work out. Hey, I need to tend to some things but I’ll let you talk to Annie again. Maybe you could discuss the piano music—or something else, maybe. Here she is.”
He waited for Annie to come back on the line.
“Hey, it’s me again. It’s pretty bad, huh?”
Drake chuckled. “Bad enough to put a damper on Christmas day for a lot of people, including me,” he added below his breath. “This is disappointing, Annie. I wanted to get there early—to, ah, practice with you.”
“Aw, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I hope you don’t get mad but I have to ask this. Why did you write it as a piano duet?”
“Red sent me the .wav file of the way he and Tiff sang it with each their own parts and—I don’t know—I thought it would be nice to have the same his and her piano parts.” He attempted to massage the tension from the back of his neck with one hand. “If I can’t make it there soon, you’ll have to play it solo.”
“We didn’t plan to perform it until the afternoon, so you’ve got plenty of time.”
“Maybe there is hope, then. Think you could stay on the line with me awhile longer to help the time pass?”
“Not a problem. So, I heard you showed up at Red’s club last month. How’d you like it? Not that it matters anymore since the damn thing burned to the ground and won’t be rebuilt.”
“What I saw of it was very nice.”
“It’s probably not as nice as what you’re used to in Houston.”
“Actually, it’s a lot nicer than most of them. And speaking of Red’s club, where’d you go that night I was there. Everyone said you had to leave.”
“Oh. Um—I get migraines that come on suddenly.”
“That’s too bad, I hope you weren’t too incapacitated.” He’d have spotted that lie even if he hadn’t known he was the real reason she left.
“No, it—it turned out to be nothing, but—I couldn’t—take the chance.”
“I guess you did what you felt was necessary at the time.” It sure as hell didn’t feel like nothing to him. He decided a change of subject may be the safest course of action. “So, did you have any trouble with the piano piece?”
“Not at all. It’s beautiful. I can play anything that’s put in front of me, but I could never compose like that. What about you?”
“I’m passable.”
Annie snorted. “Oh please, Tiffany says you could have been a professional. Maybe I should play for you so you can judge whether or not you need to make any adjustments. You know, dumb it down a little so you don’t show me up too badly?”
The last comment took him off guard and he laughed. “I doubt seriously that will be necessary, but if you want to play for me, I’d like that.” After a minute or so of hearing her situate her sheet music and herself at the piano, she came back to the phone.
“Okay, here it goes. Oh, and by the way, I believe this is your old piano.”
Drake closed his eyes, visualizing her in front of the piano he’d played for years, seated on the bench he’d used throughout those same years. He smiled as she played for him. He’d heard her in his mind so many times, sounding exactly this way. He imagined her delicate fingers passing lightly over the keys, turning the notes on the page into the haunting melody that would forever remind him of Annie McAllister. That was for certain, because although he’d written it for her parents’ anniversary, the only approval he cared about had been Annie’s.
He’d agonized over the piece, working on it every spare minute and losing more sleep than usual over it. It didn’t matter what time he woke up during the night, once he opened his eyes, he had to get up and work on it. It was the first thing he thought of—that, and the way she’d felt in his arms as they’d danced, the way she’d tasted on his lips.
He opened his eyes as the last notes rang out through the earpiece, feeling cheated out of seeing the look on her face the first time she’d played for him.
“Well?” she asked.
“That was beautiful, Annie. I knew you’d do it justice.”
“No adjustments necessary, ‘Mr. Could Have Been a Professional’?”
“You played it perfectly, Annie.” Just as I imagined you would.
“You know how it is when you really connect with a piece? Well, I must have played this a hundred times since Red gave it to me. Each time I play it feels like the first time. There’s something about it that—I don’t know—it speaks to me.”
A flood of mixed emotions washed over Drake. Thrilled with her reaction to the music, he felt like a giant heel. He could have done this dozens of different ways, and now it was too late. He couldn’t tell her who he was over the phone. If he did, she’d run like hell. He knew she would, and he’d be to blame for her missing the chance to perform. Any chance of her discovering his identity without being witnessed by a live audience was rapidly evaporating. No way in hell this day wouldn’t end up as a major drama fest.<
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“Annie …” He stopped himself.
“What is it?”
He tapped his hand several times on the steering wheel, agonizing over what to tell her, how much to tell her. Finally he released a long sigh and spoke. “I’m glad you like it.” He couldn’t do a thing until they were face to face. “What do you do for a living?”
“Physical therapist—I just joined a practice in Kenton.”
“Kenton, huh? Do you like it there?”
“Yes, I do.”
“No boyfriend or fiancé?” he drawled.
“Nope, there is absolutely no place for that in my life right now. This is my time to do what I want to do. Work, work, work—put some money aside, and when I can get time off, I want to travel, either alone or with friends, but at my convenience.”
“That’s very independent of you.”
“That’s me—little Miss born on the Fourth of July.”
“You were not.”
“Yep.”
“That’s my birthday too—July 4th.”
“Seriously?”
“I swear, ask Tiffany,” he insisted. He heard her cover the phone and yell the question out to his sister.
Once Tiffany confirmed his statement, Annie returned to the conversation. “I’ll be damned! I was born at 4:05 pm.”
“I was born around 4 am. What are the odds?” he murmured. “Hey, I think something is happening. It looks like they’re going to let us through soon.”
“Well, just be careful and get here when you can. Like I said, we’ll wait for you.”
He smiled to himself. “Okay, thanks. Annie?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get there early. Please remember—I—I really wanted it to be different.” He ended the call before she had a chance to respond.
By the time Drake arrived at Red and Tiffany’s, it was noon and the home’s driveway was already packed with vehicles. Even his dad and Leah had arrived before he did, he noted, seeing his father’s Navigator parked in front of the ranch house. He parked at the end and grabbed his keyboard out of the back seat of his Denali pick up, along with the bag of gifts he’d been collecting all week.