He shook his head. “I’ll get some at the corner. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” He lifted her up into his arms and carried her down the hall, laid her down gently and kissed her, then kissed her again, lingering this time. “Sleep tight,” he said, touching the side of her face and securing the blankets around her. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
He never returned. When the alarm went off, Dawn stared at his side of the bed, showered, and left. The crowd for All Together’s last work was meager compared to the one assembled for the show today. And no one would leave disappointed. She stood a little better this time, was first out of the chute, worked a blistering 44.1 for the half mile, and galloped out five eighths in 56.2. Of the four horses she’d worked with, the nearest one at the finish was at least six lengths back.
Randy had gotten there right as she broke and just shook his head when Ben showed him the times on his stopwatch.
He looked at Dawn and smiled. “I’m about half a minute behind schedule.”
Ben walked on.
“Did you get any sleep?” Dawn asked.
“No, none.”
“What happened?”
Randy yawned. “Well, the last one was an Arab stud horse that fractured its hock.”
“Oh no. Is he going to be all right?”
“Yeah, it’s the owners I’m worried about. If it scars, they’ll either die or sue me.”
“Incorporate,” Dawn said. “Quickly.”
Randy laughed. “I’ll see you at noon.”
Dawn called after him. “Randy?”
He turned.
“Do your parents know I’m coming?”
Randy laughed. “Relax.”
“Well? Do they?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dawn and Randy arrived just in time for their flight, and settled into their seats. “God, I’m glad you’re with me,” Randy said, smiling. “Just don’t go to sleep. That one stewardess keeps looking at me.”
Dawn chuckled. She’d leaned her head back, eyes closed, and now opened one facetiously. “So I’ve noticed. I’ll have to have a talk with her.”
Randy laughed. If she could only be jealous just once. Just once. It would make his day.
The stewardess in question stopped to serve them. “What can I get you?” She smiled at Randy.
“Well, I don’t know,” he said, seizing the opportunity to make Dawn jealous. “I’m not really sure.”
The young woman smiled modestly, as if being addressed by a movie star, an idol, and giggled, actually giggled as she went through the selections.
Dawn marveled.
“I think I’ll have a Coke,” Randy said.
The stewardess handed him a plastic glass filled with ice cubes, and a warm can of Coke, blushed, and looked at Dawn.
“And what would you like?”
“Mineral water,” Dawn said. “Please.”
The stewardess hesitated. “Uh...we don’t...” She glanced over her shoulder to the front of the plane, the first class section, and turned back to Dawn, whose expression never wavered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” Dawn said.
When the young woman walked away, Randy smiled at Dawn. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
“That power thing you do?”
Dawn laughed. “I asked for a mineral water, Randy, not the moon.”
“I know, but still...”
Dawn thought of her mother, a woman never refused anything, for as long as she’d known her, for as long as she’d lived. Ask, and ye shall receive. Until the day she died.
Randy gazed at Dawn apprehensively. “Are you all right?”
Dawn nodded and stared out the window.
“You don’t get motion sickness, do you?”
Dawn shook her head. “We’re sorry, Miss Fioritto,” she could hear a strange voice from the past saying. “When the plane went down...”
“Dawn?”
She looked at Randy. “I’m fine. I’m just thirsty.”
Randy nodded, and turned to look for the stewardess, to tell her to hurry, to insist she hurry, and use all the charm he had. My God. He’d just remembered. Her parents died in a plane crash.
“How long is the flight?” Dawn asked.
“An hour and a half,” Randy said, covering her hand with his. “Hang in there.”
Dawn nodded, staring at the wing tip.
Hurry, please.
Arriving on time and without incident, the two of them were disembarking when Randy spotted his father and waved. “Dad!” His father greeted him with a hug, and stood back, smiling as he turned to Dawn.
“Dad, this is Dawn Fioritto. Dawn...my dad, also known as Randy.”
Dawn smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And it’s nice to meet you too.” Mr. Iredell nodded, held up his scarred hands apologetically, no hand shake, and motioned to his left. “Baggage is that way.”
As Randy retrieved Dawn’s leather tote and the overnight bags, his father observed the ease in which the two got along, the way they looked at one another. And frankly, how beautiful Dawn was, even more so because of the way she gazed at his son.
“Did mom make a lunch?” Randy asked, as they headed for the truck and the hour and fifteen minute drive home.
“You betcha.”
She’d packed a feast. Cold pork-loin sandwiches on homemade bread, two with mustard and two with mayonnaise, just in case. Randy chuckled, she’d cut the crust off one of each. And four still-warm apple fritters, two sandwich Baggies of potato chips, several soft drinks and two Strohs.
“Go ahead. Those are all for you two. I ate while I was waiting for the flowers.”
Dawn, sitting in the middle of the two men in the cab of the truck, handed a mustard sandwich to Randy and helped herself to an uncrusted one with mayonnaise.
Randy didn’t say anything, but never recalled her eating mayonnaise before. He smiled. She was such a lady. Which is exactly what his father was thinking at that moment. Poised, and so prim and proper.
“So what do you two have in common besides horses?” he asked.
Dawn and Randy looked at one another. They just looked at one another, and then they both smiled. “I guess that’s it,” Randy said. “What else is there?”
His father laughed.
“How’s Mom?”
His father sighed. “Oh, she cries a lot. Women amaze me. Why do they cry over weddings?”
A momentary silence caused Dawn to glance from one to the other. This was obviously intended for her to answer. She swallowed and shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, I guess it’s because it’s a beginning, but also an end.”
Mr. Iredell nodded. “All right, then why don’t men cry?”
Dawn smiled. “Well, some of them do. By the same token, a lot more of them get choked up at the beginning of the World Series. The singing of the anthem. The first pitch. It’s the same thing. A beginning and an end, with everything on the line.”
Randy stared in amazement. “Now you talk! Apparently I just haven’t asked the right questions.”
Dawn and Mr. Iredell laughed. “So then,” he said, changing lanes. “I hear you’re a writer. What do you write about?”
Randy anticipated her reply as intently as his father. “I’m writing a novel. It’s about the racetrack. By the way.” She turned to Randy. “Ben’s going to enter All Together next Sunday if everything goes all right.”
Randy nodded.
“Is this horse in your novel?” his father asked.
“No,” Dawn said.
Randy looked at her.
“Not exactly.”
Randy shook his head and sighed. Not exactly. Someone like her, he heard her say, knew she’d say, as his mind wandered. It’s fiction. Fiction, fiction, fiction. Yeah, right. Don’t think about it, he told himself. She’s in your world now, and there’s not a typewriter in the
house. Don’t give it another thought. At least try not to.
The Iredell farm was precisely the way Dawn had pictured it, rambling and white, Spic-n-Span clean, and productive. There was even a welcoming committee of dogs, just as she’d imagined. An old Lab with a white muzzle, a hyper Golden Retriever, and a small terrier mix, friendly and not much bigger than a Chihuahua, but with a big-dog strut.
Dawn leaned down to pet them and looked up as two women appeared outside a screen door on the side porch. She wondered which one was Randy’s mother. Randy took her by the hand to introduce them.
“Mom.... Aunt Helen.... This is Dawn.”
The two women smiled. Up close, they looked alike except for the tears welling up in the one’s eyes. Randy’s mother embraced Dawn. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, and stepped back, fumbling for a tissue in her apron pocket.
Randy laughed. “Jesus, Mom!”
Aunt Helen grinned and reached for Dawn’s hand. “Don’t mind her. I think it’s something in the water.”
The next few hours were hectic with last-minute preparations. The bride and groom’s families were providing the meal for the reception, and food was coming from three different houses. The Iredells were responsible for the main dishes, cabbage rolls, sausage, rigatoni, and scalloped potatoes. The groom’s family was making the salads and casseroles. And a team of aunts, uncles, and cousins were furnishing the desserts. Dawn was grateful for something to do. Her job was to slice the six dozen rolls and eight loaves of bread. Some of the loaves were still warm, which proved a challenge. But she had gentle hands, Liz, Randy’s mother said, “and did a fine job.” At five o’clock,
right on schedule, the back of Mr. Iredell’s pickup was loaded and on its way to the VFW Hall.
Cindy showed Dawn to her bedroom, jokingly referring to it as her “old bedroom” as of that night, and Dawn sat down on the bed. She could hear Mary Lou and Anne talking in the bathroom next to them. She’d met so many people downstairs, it was hard keeping all their names straight, but Mary Lou she remembered well. There was something about the way she’d kept staring at her and then looking away conspicuously whenever Dawn glanced in her direction.
“With just one bathroom,” Cindy said, “we’ll have to take turns getting ready.”
Dawn smiled. “That’s okay. I’m quick.” She laid back on the bed and ran her hands over the chenille spread, bare in spots in a comfortable way. “I love this house.”
Cindy nodded, and sat down next to her. “I’m going to miss it.” She looked around with nostalgia already in her eyes, sighed, then stood up and shook her head. “But not the fact that there’s only one bathroom. Mary Lou, hurry up!” she shouted, and headed down the hall to pound on the door. “You’ve been in there for an hour already. Come on!”
Dawn reached for a pillow and closed her eyes, thinking about the living room downstairs, how cozy it was, the furniture all Early American, the fireplace large and smoke stained. In fact, to her, the entire house was cozy, even the utility room with all the boots, gloves, and jackets and a stockpile of wood. She imagined what it was like for Randy to grow up here, a little boy, Christmas mornings, the first day of school...
Mary Lou sat down hard on the bed. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Dawn smiled and sat up. “No, not really. Is it my turn?”
“In the bathroom? No,” Mary Lou replied, pretending to be enthralled with the gloss of her own fingernails. “Anne’s still in there.”
Dawn glanced at her watch.
“Cindy tells me you’re a writer and that you have racehorses. Is that how you met Randy?”
“Yes,” Dawn said, glancing at Anne as she came through the doorway. “But actually I only own part of a racehorse.”
Anne smiled, having taken an instant liking to Dawn. “Was it love at first sight?”
Dawn chuckled. “No.” And fortunately there was no time to elaborate, which would have been awkward under any circumstances, let alone under this Mary Lou’s watchful eye and eager ears.
Cindy appeared in a crisis. “My hair! Of all days! See what you can do with it,” she pleaded to Anne.
Mary Lou glanced at Dawn. “Anne’s a beautician,” she explained. “Maybe she can do something with your hair too.”
Anne frowned at her for saying such a thing. “Are you crazy? Her hair is beautiful. I wish it were mine.”
Dawn glanced in the mirror. The main reason she’d always preferred to pull her hair back in a braid, was that there was so much of it, which was never more evident than now with the perm.
“I can dress it up if you want,” Anne said, motioning for Cindy to sit down at the vanity. “I have plenty of time. I’m all ready. All I have to do is put my dress on.”
Cindy and Mary Lou laughed. “She’s never been on time in her life,” Cindy told Dawn. “Her mother was three weeks late delivering her and she’s been late ever since.”
“Yeah, well not today.” Anne nudged Cindy’s hand out of the way and picked up a comb. “Everything’s under control.”
Dawn took her turn in the bathroom and while she was gone, became the subject of discussion. “So what do you think of her?” Cindy asked.
Anne smiled. “I like her. And it’s pretty obvious why Randy likes her.”
Cindy nodded. “He’s crazy about her.”
“She looks rich.”
Mary Lou disagreed. “She doesn’t look rich to me. Just plain.”
Anne looked at her and frowned in disbelief. “Plain is not the word I’d use to describe her, not unless that’s the latest term for tall, thin, and rather beautiful.”
Dawn returned a few minutes later, dressed, and with her hair all but dry. Anne fussed over it eagerly, still bragging about having everything under control. Cindy slipped on her Victorian wedding gown of satin and lace. Anne zipped her up, and it was time for the veil. This was when Cindy’s mom and Aunt Helen appeared in the doorway.
“Oh my...” Liz muttered. “My little girl.” Of course, she started crying again, and that made Cindy cry. Aunt Helen scolded them both, but had tears in her eyes as well.
“Now, now...” she said. “Let’s make sure we have everything. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”
Cindy’s mouth dropped. “What?”
Anne glanced from Cindy to her mom and plopped down on the bed. “Some maid of honor I turned out to be. I knew I’d forget something. I forgot everything.”
Aunt Helen laughed. “Let’s not panic.” She looked at Cindy. “Your dress is new. That leaves...”
“Like I said, everything,” Anne moaned. “I knew it. It was too good to be true. We’re going to be late.”
Dawn observed the mounting anxiety, all eyes darting around the room, and touched her neck. “I have my mother’s...”
Everyone looked anxiously at her.
“What?”
“Her blue diamond,” Dawn said, removing her hand from the pendant. “It’s old, and it’s blue. And you certainly may borrow it.”
“Oh, Dawn,” Cindy sighed. “I’d be honored. If you don’t mind.”
Aunt Helen rushed over to help Dawn unclasp it, squeezed her shoulders warmly, and with great care and reverence, put it on Cindy. “There,” she said. “All set. Now let’s get going before we are late.”
They arrived at the church ten minutes early. Dawn hadn’t seen Randy since he’d left in the truck with the food. Marvin, Cindy’s husband-to-be, had offered his home for the men to shower and change, and Randy had hoped to be able to take a nap, even if it was just for a few hours.
Dawn looked around the tiny church, enchanted with its stained-glass windows and the rainbow of light dancing on the rows and rows of sturdy oak pews. Cindy, Anne, and Mary Lou were hurried into one of the Sunday School rooms, while Dawn and Aunt Helen were ushered to a pew up front. Liz was escorted alone and with formality, as all those gathered smiled and nodded and acknowledged the tears in her eyes. Her baby was getting marrie
d.
The organ sounded the prelude to the wedding march as the groom, his best man Steve, and Randy took their places to the right of the altar.
Dawn leaned close to Aunt Helen. “Isn’t he handsome?” she whispered.
Aunt Helen nodded. Randy turned then and smiled. And the music changed with hesitation and a succession of beats. Mary Lou started down the aisle first, then Anne, both of them dressed in fluffy pink gowns and carrying pink and white carnation bouquets.
“Please remain seated,” the Reverend Van Cleff announced as the bride appeared on the arm of her father, to be escorted down the aisle to the man who was to be her husband.
The ceremony was brief, yet elegant, in a no-nonsense Presbyterian sort of way. The receiving line following included both sets of parents, the bridal party, the bride and groom, two deacons, and the minister and his wife, who stood at the door.
Aunt Helen took hold of Dawn’s hand to introduce her. She in turn offered her best wishes, greetings, and congratulations. Randy kissed her and whispered, “I love you,” in her ear. She smiled and went outside with everyone to shower Marvin and Cindy with rice. Then it was off to the VFW.
Dawn was seated next to Aunt Helen again, Liz and Randy Sr. to her left. The family table, it was dubbed, and every time the expression was used, Dawn experienced a feeling of warmth, but also sadness. There would be no wedding for her. No mother and father to look on with approval. Not hardly. She was living a lie, and to enter into a marriage under those circumstances would be a travesty.
Mary Lou sat across from Randy at the bridal table and took every opportunity to touch him, engage him in conversation, and monopolize his attention. Dawn appeared not to notice, even when Mary Lou would laugh out loud and say, “Oh, Randy...” in the most annoying way. But notice she did.
Her mother had taught her early on how to hold things inside, not to ignore them, for that wasn’t healthy. Just to not let it show. Hold your chin high. Rise above it. Don’t let it get to you. Smile.
“Champagne?”
“Yes, please.”
There were toasts for health, happiness and prosperity from the best man, amidst the clanging of silverware demanding the bride and groom kiss. Trust and longevity from Randy. More kisses. And a tribute to just about everything else from Anne, who quite relieved to have gotten through the day without any major snags, even toasted, “Being on time. What an occasion!”
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 29