by Lori Leger
“Definitely,” he said with tears in his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, finding it took less effort to approach him for a hug.
“I do have one question, and you can say no if you want to, but can Leah come to the wedding? She’s dying to meet both of you, and is already dreaming of future grandchildren.”
“I’d love to meet her. As a matter of fact, I’d like the four of us and Red’s parents to meet before the wedding. Can we try to plan something for next weekend?”
Daniel beamed at his daughter. “Honey, you pick the dates and times, and we’ll be here, I promise. My God, I feel ten years younger,” he said, throwing his head back and bellowing with laughter. “I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. I can’t wait to tell Leah, she’s wanted this for so long.”
“Would you mind if I called her right now and spoke to her first?” Tiffany asked him.
Daniel was quick to give her his and Leah’s home number, along with her cell number, in case she was outside with the horses. Tiffany walked out to the pool house to call her while Red and Daniel remained in the kitchen.
Red watched Daniel as he stared after his daughter wearing a look that could only be described as pure wonder. His father in law turned to him, beaming once more, and extended his hand to him. He grabbed it and gave it a hearty shake.
“I can’t believe how good I feel. You’re a godsend for this family, Red, and I am truly grateful.”
“I’d do anything to make her happy, Sir. She’s the most important thing to me.”
“Just wait until you have children of your own. There’s not a doubt in my mind you’ll do a hell of a lot better job at raising my grandchildren than I did at raising my own.” He leaned over and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “Forgive me for prying, but Leah wanted me to ask if I got the chance. When exactly can we expect some of those?”
Red gave him a satisfied grin. “We’re already trying.”
Daniel’s face practically glowed with happiness. “I tell you what, Red, my young man. This must be how ole Charlie Dickens’ Scrooge felt on Christmas mornin’. I’ve visited all my ghosts and thrown off all those damn chains.” He put his head back as another burst of laughter erupted. “And by damn it, I can’t wait to start those college funds!”
<><><>
One week later, Tiffany and Red hosted a Sunday dinner with Red’s parents, Tiffany’s father, and Leah Hanson. She’d tried to get Drake to come but he’d begged off, saying he was trying to wrap things up with his firm by New Year.
“Besides,” he’d told her in their last phone call, “I’ve already seen them twice this week. You’ve really opened up the flood gates as far as dad is concerned. He can’t seem to get enough of ‘family’ now.”
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. She watched the two older men lounging on the furniture as Red tended to the grill. Her husband had decided to take advantage of the unusually crisp, clear weather of the last weekend before Christmas by breaking in his brand new baby…a.k.a. the ‘Absolute kick ass De Lorean of grills’.
“Ah, the mystery of men and their love of cooking anything over an open fire,” Leah spoke to Tiffany with a light touch to her 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…have made fire!”
The three women collapsed with 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 asked in astonishment.
“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 taking it with me 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, don’t get me wrong, 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 told her. “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 her.
“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 it back 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 sh
e 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, wishing for a half hour to themselves.
Chapter 19
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…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 where the Steinway grand piano was positioned.
Tiffany followed closely, anxious to see her reaction. “Now, look!” she said, clapping gleefully as Annie screamed with delight.
“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 said, before closing her eyes and positioning her fingers on the keyboard.
Tiffany relaxed her shoulders and sighed, as the notes floated throughout the arched ceilings of the living area and kitchen of their home. “Beautiful,” she whispered as she and Red returned to the meal preparation in the kitchen.
“Hey,” Annie called out, 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.
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 said, wishing they had an hour to themselves.
“Mm,” he growled into her ear. “I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah,” she said, slipping her hands down onto his butt and pulling him closer. “Well, if you hadn’t been so insulting, maybe I would have been more willing to listen to you, but you came off as such 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 chrissake!”
The shrill ringing of the phone cut through the air. “Annie, could you catch that, please,” Tiffany said, pulling her husband close for a kiss. “I’m kind of busy.”
<>
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 said, picking up the cordless. “Merry Christmas from the McAllisters...who’re you calling for…the doc or the jock?”
“Is…Tiffany there?”
“Tiffany has her hands full right now,” she said, turning 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…uh...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?” she asked, wondering why his voice sounded 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 only 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 answered, 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,” she said, sounding sympathetic, “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 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,” she said. “Here she is.”
“Hey, it’s me again. It’s pretty bad, huh?”
Drake chuckled. “Yeah-this is going to put a damper on Christmas day for a lot of people…including mine,” he added below his breath. “This is disappointing, Annie. I really wanted to get there early to cle—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 part, 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 both parts without me.”
“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…Uh…I get migraines that come on suddenly.”
“That’s too bad, I hope you weren’t too incapacitated,” he said, knowing he’d have spotted that lie even if he hadn’t known he was the real reason she left.
“No, it…it wasn’t a bad one,” she murmured.
He looked into the rearview, seeing his own grinning face staring back at him. At least she feels bad about it. “So, did you have any trouble with the piano piece?” he asked, changing the subject.
“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 the same years. She began to play, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself, knowing she would have sounded just 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. He heard her pick up the phone.
“Well?”
“That was beautiful,” he murmured quietly.
“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 just seem to connect with a piece. Well, I must have played this a hundred times since Red gave it to me. Every time I play it feels like the first time. There’s something about it that…I don’t know…speaks to me.”