Dream a Little Dream

by Melinda Curtis

  “I forgive him.” Pearl blinked rapidly but a tear still managed to escape. “And I hope, wherever he is, that he can forgive me.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Darcy smiled.

  “Come on, let’s eat.” Pearl turned to the stove. “I can’t stay long. I have the breakfast shift tomorrow.”

  Darcy got out the silverware. “Does this mean you’re dropping the lawsuit for custody of Stogey?”

  “No. Did George teach you nothing?” Pearl’s sudden gaze over her shoulder was piercing. “Never make a decision about a lawsuit without consulting your lawyer first.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Are you sure you want to do this?” Ken opened the yarn shop door for Jason the Sunday after Darcy had dumped him at the barbecue. “I’m a miracle worker but even miracle workers can’t always make it rain.”

  “This is going to work,” Jason said with more confidence than he felt. Darcy could have tracked him down any time this past week and demanded to be told if they were married or not. She hadn’t. It gave him hope. That, and that he had Ken and the Widows Club on his side.

  “My boys.” Jason’s mother greeted them at the door with hugs and bottles of water.

  “What?” Jason glanced at the bottle. “Where are my knitted goods?”

  “Right here.” Mom slid a knitted sleeve over each of their bottles. “I saw these made by a machine in Greeley and thought I’d give it a try. Ken, I made yours like the Statue of Liberty. And Jason, yours is you. A cowboy with a hat. Can you see it?” There was a desperate note to her question.

  “Yeah, Mom. These are great.” Despite his reassurances, Jason didn’t see her vision. Other than Ken’s being a tarnished green and Jason’s being several shades of brown. But he was nothing if not supportive. “Hot sellers for your website?”

  “Jason…” Shaking her head, Mom gave him a stern look like the one she used to give when she caught him sneaking in late. “Don’t humor me. I haven’t sold any. It’s a fail, I know.” His mother may have been an avid knitter, but she knew when to admit defeat. “Still, it’ll keep your cold bottles from sweating.”

  “It’s the thought that counts.” Jason hugged her again.

  Mom targeted his agent next. “Ken, you’re not wearing any of your sweater vests.”

  “It’s a bit warm outside, Mrs. P.” Ken cleared his throat. “I wore it on a date last week.”

  “Oh, such a sweet boy.” Mom patted his cheeks.

  Jason felt an eye roll coming on. Ken was a shark, not a sweet boy.

  The bell rang over the door and Darcy entered. She wore blue leggings, a black tank top with a fancy knitted sweater over it, and a wary expression. Except for the cautious vibe, she was looking more like herself. Jason might not buy any knits from the shop, but he’d seen that sweater in the window last week. It was nice of her to support his mother.

  Stogey trotted up to Jason and sat on his foot, staring up at him as if to say, Check out my new jacket. He wore a red-and-black service dog coat.

  “Are you shopping for finished goods from me, Darcy?” Smiling at Jason, Mom went into yarn shop owner mode, holding up a pair of blue knitted baby booties. “Or have you finally decided to learn how to knit?”

  “Sorry to disappoint, Nancy, but I’m here for my interview.” Darcy submitted to a hug nonetheless, and she didn’t look as if it was a hardship. She’d always gotten along with his mother.

  “You will have so much fun. I hear a lot of laughter with this group. Here.” Mom handed her a bottle of water with a white knitted sleeve. “This one is supposed to be the Easter Bunny.”

  “I see whiskers?” Darcy turned the knitted water bottle sleeve this way and that.

  “I’m trying not to get discouraged.” Mom set her shoulders back. “After all, it took Thomas Edison one thousand tries to make the light bulb, and I’m only on ten tries at water bottle sleeves.”

  Clarice held the drape aside for them. “We’re ready.”

  Bitsy and Mims sat near the curtain, talking quietly. Iggy was teaching Edith how to do the floss dance in the space between the tripod and the table. The yarn lining the walls seemed brighter and more colorful than before. There was no roar of the crowd, but they all turned to Jason, smiling in greeting. He was in a battle for Darcy’s heart. But it wasn’t an angry battle, as when he rode a bull. It was a chess match with a team behind him.

  Edith stopped dancing and held up a water bottle with a pink knitted sleeve. She drew Jason aside and whispered, “Are we supposed to give airtime to your mom’s product? I can’t tell if mine is supposed to be a piglet or a baby.”

  “This show has no sponsors,” Ken said firmly from behind Jason. He tugged Edith’s knitted sleeve from her water bottle and shooed those who worked in front of the camera toward the table. “Take your places. Did everyone sign their nondisclosure agreements?” He flipped through a stack of papers that Clarice gave him and then counted heads. All of them, not just Darcy.

  Jason and Iggy scooted behind the table and sat on the bench, with Edith at the end.

  Darcy was given a chair next to Edith and asked to sign one of the nondisclosure agreements. She glanced up at Ken. “What’s this for?”

  “We’re developing a new web show,” Ken explained casually. “It says you agree not to talk about what goes on here, including what’s said. It’s just protecting the intellectual property.”

  Darcy’s brow clouded but she signed after reading it, a process interrupted when Stogey leaped into her lap.

  She reads before she signs, George said with pride.

  As soon as Ken was behind the tripod, Clarice said, “I’m ready. Good luck.” She nodded to Jason. “Take it away, Edith.”

  “Welcome to Two Cowboys and a Little Old Lady,” Edith began, leaving off the love advice part of the title.

  “I bring the perspective of bachelors everywhere.” Iggy tipped his hat.

  “And I call them out on their bull.” To emphasize her point, Edith gave Iggy a stern look.

  Darcy stopped rubbing Stogey’s ears.

  “In this episode, I’m the guy who’s just trying to figure love out.” Jason gave Darcy a reassuring smile, hoping she wouldn’t make a run for it. “Today, we’re talking with the love of my life, the woman I lost because of stupidity, Judge Darcy Jones Harp—”

  “Hello,” Darcy cut him off, perhaps afraid he’d add Petrie to her list of last names. She waved at Clarice and her phone.

  Point to Darcy.

  Jason held on to his smile. Now came the tricky part. Letting Edith and Iggy pick apart his past. “For those who don’t know the story of our breakup—”

  “It involved a babe working for one of Jason’s sponsors, which means the kiss was legal. Contractual even.” Iggy rubbed his hands together. “You can’t object to a legally binding contract, can you, Your Honor?”

  “Um…” Darcy’s gaze roved the room.

  “She can.” Edith elbowed Iggy. “If you say you’re dating, if you say you’re in a relationship, if you say she’s your girlfriend, another woman’s lips are off-limits. And I know a certain sports agent who should have said so before recommending Jason sign any kissing contracts.”

  Iggy wasn’t letting the monetary piece go. “But his income, his image, his—”

  “Chance at something real and lasting?” Edith scoffed. “It requires fidelity.”

  Darcy raised her hand as if they were in a classroom and she wanted the opportunity to speak.

  Iggy ignored her. “What if Jason was an actor? A film star required to kiss other women.”

  “He’s not an actor.” Edith scoffed again. “He rides bulls for a living.”

  “Which is a young man’s game,” Iggy pressed on. “In order to establish a long-term income, men like Jason must branch out. Endorsements are a way to extend a career in the world of rodeo.”

  “Was he endorsing a mouthwash? A toothpaste?” Edith should have been a lawyer. She made Jason sound almost irredeemable. “A p
roduct related to hygiene?”

  Jason held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t bring up dandruff shampoo and hemorrhoid cream.

  “Nope.” Iggy hung his head. “It was a brand of cattle feed.”

  “Then I rest my case.” Edith clapped her hands once. “Jason is guilty and should apologize.”

  Darcy held her hand higher. She needed to learn that good manners weren’t going to help her on this panel.

  “I did.” Jason finally got a word in. “I apologized. I groveled.”

  “Were flowers and jewelry involved?” Edith leaned forward to catch Jason’s eye.

  “No, but I did bring dog biscuits.” Jason tipped his hat to Darcy.

  In return, Darcy gave him a small smile and lowered her hand to pet Stogey.

  Point to Jason. Bonus points, considering Darcy hadn’t walked out. The widows had assured him she wouldn’t but he hadn’t been certain.

  “Dog biscuits?” Iggy slapped a hand over his eyes. “All these years by my side and the man has learned nothing about apology gifts.”

  “Shush.” Edith waved a hand across Iggy and toward Jason. “Did you promise never to accept money to kiss another woman?”

  “No.” Jason didn’t think he’d agreed to this line of questioning. “But it goes without saying that I won’t.”

  Ken’s lips pressed together in disapproval. Kissing women was a lucrative sideline, like asking someone in the drive-through if they wanted fries with that.

  “Did you ask Darcy to forgive you?” Edith persisted in her interrogation of Jason.

  “Yes.”

  “With dog biscuits,” Iggy muttered.

  “I forgave him,” Darcy said in a small voice. “But then he did something else.”

  Her statement sucked the air out of the room, probably because neither Jason nor Ken had told their coconspirator cast and crew about the marriage piece to this equation.

  “There’s always something else unearthed in a tragedy,” Iggy murmured to Edith.

  “Yep,” Edith murmured back. “The plot thickens.”

  Per the Widows Club plan, that catchphrase was Jason’s cue to transition to the land mine of Darcy’s insecurity regarding her past. He had something different in mind. “She’s right. After she forgave me, I revealed something else.” He paused for dramatic effect, during which time Darcy leaned forward slightly and looked in the direction of his legs. Wrong, honey. “I don’t know if I’m married.”

  It seemed like everyone in the room gasped, even Ken, who had known Jason was going to go rogue.

  “Dude.” Iggy gaped at Jason.

  “Excuse me. I came here today to be interviewed about my position in town.” Darcy tried to redirect. “I thought you’d ask me about how I came to be a judge.”

  That wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear or part of the Widows Club plan to help Jason win Darcy back. All eyes swiveled to Jason, brows raised.

  “I was appointed,” Darcy blurted, talking quickly now. “Recommended by my…my husband, George.”

  “May George rest in peace,” Edith said solemnly. “He was right to recommend you.”

  Darcy’s chin lifted. Jason suspected Edith’s acceptance of the situation wasn’t what Darcy wanted to hear.

  “I want to get back to the question of marriage.” Iggy gave that awful, braying laugh of his. “As in dude, why don’t you know if you’re hitched or not?”

  “I’m interested in that answer too.” Darcy patted Stogey’s ribs so hard that he burped.

  “The plot thickens.” Edith swung around to stare at Jason.

  He grabbed a skein of baby-blue yarn and squeezed it like a stress ball. The state of his heart rested on the next few minutes. “I’ve participated in a marriage ceremony,” Jason said carefully. “More like a commitment ceremony.”

  There was another round of gasps.

  Darcy’s eyes flashed. Her patience was waning.

  “It was in Vegas,” Jason continued before Iggy or Edith hijacked the conversation. “I had some drinks and don’t remember it at all. A few weeks later, Ken received a picture of our wedding in the mail. I regret it because a marriage based on love should be memorable.” And legally binding. “And both parties should be sober.” A given.

  “For the ceremony, at least.” Iggy had half turned to face him too, blocking Edith’s view. “But dude, I gotta tell you. I’m hurt. I always thought I’d be your best man.”

  “This is a disaster.” Edith stared at Mims, crumpling her notes. “The plot is so thick it’s pea soup.”

  Iggy took Jason’s skein of yarn and began kneading it like bread dough.

  Darcy sent Jason a look that seemed to say: This is no longer funny.

  It was never funny.

  Like you had a sense of humor, George.

  The expression on Edith’s face was thunderous. Obviously she didn’t like being out of the know. “Jason, the plot—”

  “I know, I know. The plot thickens.” He gave Darcy a gentle smile, the kind of smile a husband gives to a wife when he knows she’s annoyed and he plans to do something about it. Just not yet. “A marriage should be the expression of a couple’s love for one another. It should be a day worth remembering. A proud day when you pledge to love, honor, and be the best friend of your spouse. You should invite friends and family. The ones you were still on speaking terms with.”

  “Not your aunt Midge,” his mother said from where she peeked through the curtain. “She always said you had a pointy head as a baby.”

  Jason chose to ignore that comment. “And you should shower each other with rose petals and chocolate and sweet wine for people who don’t like wine.” Like Darcy, who still looked annoyed with him.

  “None of this is in my notes.” Edith smoothed the page of her scribbles, squinting at it. “Iggy?”

  “I got nothing, Edith.” Iggy twisted the baby-blue skein. “I was supposed to be his best man. I feel like I’ve been shorted.”

  “Darcy, I want to start over.” Jason put a hand over his heart. “I would love to marry you again, this time with a license to make it legal. Because our ceremony wasn’t right.” He winked at Edith. “For all the previously mentioned reasons.”

  “Holy fudge nuggets,” Edith whispered. “Is he proposing?”

  “Yes.” Iggy pulled his brim down. “Badly. Especially when you consider he already married her and must have asked before.”

  Darcy blew out a breath, took in another, and then stared at Jason, saying nothing and going nowhere, waiting.

  “I’m actually not proposing,” Jason admitted. “I’d like to reserve that privilege for another time.”

  I have an idea about that. George the romantic.

  Jason rubbed his temple.

  Clarice tapped her phone. “People, Darcy came for an interview. I suggest we return to the script and give her one.”

  “Ah, my cue.” Edith peered at her notes. “We haven’t covered the feeling of inadequacy in a relationship.”

  “There is no inadequacy between the sheets if you have an attentive, giving partner.” Iggy was right back in the swing of things.

  Edith tipped his hat up. “Have you practiced being a better listener? We’re not talking about bedroom rhumbas.”

  “I’ve heard there was a marriage,” Iggy admitted mournfully, with a disapproving look Jason’s way. “Which often leads to tales of bedroom woe.”

  “We’re PG-13, people,” Jason reminded them. “Besides, we’re not talking intimate inadequacies. We’re talking about the feeling that one person in the relationship feels deficient when compared to the other. Or to other people in town.”

  Scowling, Darcy sat back in her chair, crossing her arms around Stogey and pulling him to her chest as if it were the dog that needed shielding, not she.

  “This is deep.” Edith turned her notes over. “Darcy, care to comment?”

  “No,” Darcy said flatly.

  “Please, dear.” Bitsy jumped into the fray from the sidelines. “He means w
ell. We all do.”

  Darcy blew out a breath. “Okay, I’ll play along. Insecurity in our relationship? Always. I’m a Jones. Every time I make a mistake, that’s what people say. Well, of course she’d do that. She’s a Jones. Why would Jason want to go through life with me?”

  “Love,” came the chorused answer.

  “That is the crux of it, isn’t it?” Edith said softly. “What do feelings of being different matter if you love each other? A difference in age, a difference in education, a difference in where you come from…None of it should matter.”

  “I’m not sure how much weight my opinion carries, but Edith is right.” In a surprising move, Iggy patted Jason on the back. “Congratulations are in order for your marriage. And regrets for the fact that it wasn’t legit. If your best man had been there, he might have rectified that situation.”

  Ken sighed and rolled his eyes. He had every right to. If both he and Iggy had been present, Ken was the more likely savior.

  “Darcy, you believe you won’t be elected this November.” Jason wasn’t asking.

  “You had a rocky start.” Trust Edith not to pull her punches. “I’ve heard nothing but glowing reviews this past week. Oh, and Iggy hired the infamous Mr. Borrington.”

  “Sadly, it wasn’t my idea,” Iggy admitted, sticking with honesty when it came to their partnership. He cast a thumb in Jason’s direction.

  That got to Darcy. She blinked suddenly teary eyes.

  “That just makes it harder to walk away from everything.” Darcy sniffed. “I’m finally hitting my stride in the courtroom, but it doesn’t matter. I cheated to get this by marrying George. No matter what argument George presented about him needing me to be his wife, I should have said no. I loved him but it was platonic love.”

  Her statement created another one of those gasping pin-drop moments.

  Jason wished he were closer to Darcy so he could take her in his arms. “Honey, you can’t call your appointment cheating when you didn’t know what George had planned. Give the old man some of the credit and some of the blame. Then forgive yourself.”

  There were choruses of agreement. Stogey nuzzled her chin.