by Beth Flynn
I could tell by my mother's expression that something other than the current situation was bothering her.
"Is Aunt Jodi okay?" I asked, not able to keep the concern out of my tone.
"Let's just say she has an unexpected houseguest and she can't seem to get rid of him," came her exasperated reply.
"Forget Jodi and Blue," my father barked. "Do you know that your husband..." His eyes narrowed at me before he continued, "has been in prison?" He looked around the room and added, "I had a conversation with Bill on the drive back up the mountain."
Ignoring the revelation about my aunt and Blue, I crossed my arms, and addressed my father. "Yes, I know Christian's been in prison, and you should talk! Do you know why he was in prison?"
"No. Bill didn't get to tell me because the call dropped, but it doesn't matter why," my father spat. "He's a criminal, out on parole, and took you against your will."
I'd heard enough. I dropped my hands to my sides, my fists clenching.
"Yeah, Dad, he's a criminal. And so are you and so is Uncle Anthony!"
I didn't give anyone a chance to object when I spat, "Christian put someone in the hospital. You on the other hand have put people in the ground." I looked at Uncle Anthony and back at my father. "Don't try and deny that you two haven't left a wake of missing persons posters and broken lives in your rearview mirrors."
I could see my mother and Aunt Christy in my peripheral vision. They were both trying to contain their shock at my accusations. Denial of the claims wasn’t in their expressions because they knew the men they’d married. It was because I was delivering them that led to their surprised faces.
“So what did you do?” Grizz asked Christian, his tone filled with derision.
“Hacked a guy’s arm off,” came Christian’s even reply.
I heard my mother's sharp intake of breath, but I didn't care. I was not going to stand there and let Grizz accuse Christian of bad behavior when our fathers had written the book on it. My father’s lip curled. His disapproval was obvious.
“And you cut out a woman’s tongue!” I screamed, pointing at Grizz.
I started to walk toward him when I felt Christian grab my wrist. He managed to uncurl my fist with his fingers and enveloped my icy cold hand in his warm one. I felt the tension leaving my body. With a calming breath and a milder tone, I launched into an explanation as to not just the assault Christian had perpetrated against Nick Rosman, but the reason behind it.
When I got to the part describing Nick's original intentions all those years ago, my mother cried out, "Oh, Mimi!"
I wouldn't look at her as I waited for my father's reaction. Aunt Christy and Uncle Anthony hadn't said anything up to this point. I knew they’d kept it from my parents and I wondered if they were concerned about their reaction to finding out.
"You cut off his arm?" My father glared at Christian. "You should've buried him neck-deep in the ground and run over his fucking head with a lawn mower!"
"Grizz!" my mother shouted at the same time I screamed, "Dad!"
Christian let go of my hand and walked toward my father. I cringed when I thought about how painful his already-beaten face would feel if my father launched into another attack. Apparently, he wasn't as concerned as I was.
"I've let you have your say," he calmly said to my father. Tilting his head to the side, he stated, "And I respectfully let you pound on my face." He paused and looked back at me. "For Mimi's sake."
"Let?" Uncle Anthony and my father both asked simultaneously.
Christian peered over at his father. "Yeah, I let him do it. I know you two are still in good shape and you've got experience, but I've got youth and speed." Christian looked back at Grizz and narrowed his eyes. "Know this. I won't just defend myself next time, I'll do damage. After all, I learned from the best." He nodded his head toward Uncle Anthony before adding, "It'll be like fighting yourself thirty years ago. You wanna go up against your younger self?"
I watched my father's expression change from anger and rage to what could only have been described as an iota of admiration, and maybe even some respect. Christian didn't give him a chance to comment when he explained his reason for not killing Nick Rosman.
"Dad also didn't like that I didn't put Nick in the ground,” he said, raising his chin. “But it's a different world than when you two were wreaking havoc all over South Florida. There's a camera on every corner. I made the decision not to hide behind my crime. And that bastard will have to live every day of his life with a tangible reminder of what he tried to do to Mimi."
The room got quiet. Our dog, Rocky, got up from his bed and sauntered over to us. He made a show of lazily stretching his legs followed by a wide yawn, and an explosive expulsion of gas.
Aunt Christy burst out laughing. My mother followed suit, but hers was more of an embarrassed giggle as she shooed Rocky toward the doggie door. All three men hadn't cracked a smile, but they also didn't look like they wanted to kill each other so I made my way to the kitchen and started pulling things out of the refrigerator in a lame attempt to break up some of the tension.
In less than ten minutes, the six of us sat around the huge kitchen table that was piled high with a variety of lunch meats, cheeses, breads, condiments, chips, and my mother's homemade potato salad. It was decided that the Bears would stay overnight and drive their rental car back to Florida, stopping in Jacksonville so Christian could exchange trucks with the man with whom he’d traded his. I was relieved when Dad and Uncle Anthony started reminiscing about the past, while Mom and Aunt Christy chatted about the twins. It didn't escape my or Christian's notice that his mother specifically asked after Ruthie and Dillon. Of course, my mother could've told her about them while Christian and I were packing back at the rental house, but something told me that hadn't happened. I knew Christian thought the same thing. I laid my hand on his thigh and gently squeezed. This wasn't the time or place to confront his mother. Besides, we had something else to address and the sooner it was out in the open, the better.
"As soon as we're finished with lunch, I'm going to call Grandpa and ask him about planning a real wedding."
I watched as my dad slowly set his fork full of potato salad down and looked at my mother. The scraping of her chair was loud as she stood up from the table and discarded her napkin. "I'd like to have the benefit of a private talk with Mimi," she announced.
I could feel Christian's eyes on me as I stood and followed my mother into the master bedroom, shutting the door behind us.
She turned around to face me and I could see her carefully measuring her words. "Mimi, you really don't plan on going through with this marriage, do you?"
"Actually, Mom. Yes, I do."
"But you can see how this looks, right? There is no way you and Christian could've fallen in love in less than ten days." She waved her hand through the air. "He has to go back to Florida and you have to go back to school. It's not going to work."
"Are you even interested in why I love him?" When she didn't answer me, I decided to tell her anyway. "In addition to him being my best friend from childhood, he's also the man who insisted on marrying me before he touched me."
She gave me a condescending look. "That wasn't a real marriage, Mimi."
"It was to us," I insisted. "You know what else I love? I love that he's not afraid of Dad and that he let Dad beat the crap out of him when we both know he could've fought back and probably won. I love that we don’t have to hide who Dad is because Christian and his family know him already. I love that he's not afraid to admit his weaknesses. And despite how horrific the crime was, and not that I condone it in any way, shape or form, I love that he went to prison for me. For me, Mom!" I beat my hand against my chest. "Just like Dad went to prison for you. Or have you forgotten that?"
"But still, this isn't real, honey. It's what people refer to as the honeymoon phase of a relationship. It's all romantic and enthralling, but it's an illusion. You don't even know each other anymore."
I knew
that her words weren't meant to hurt me. They were said kindly and lovingly because she cared. But I also knew my heart. And it belonged to Christian Bear. I nodded as if to agree with her and asked, "Do you know that I've been dealing with an eating disorder since high school?" Her eyes went wide and without letting her answer, I continued, "Christian figured it out after only a couple of days." I saw the hurt behind her eyes and I gently added, "You couldn't have known. I hid it well."
I could see her brain scrambling for a reply when I asked her, "You know I was saving myself for marriage, right?"
She smiled. "Of course I know that. We've talked about you waiting. I guess this means that Lucas hadn't made any advances? He'd been respecting your wishes?"
"He's been screwing my friends behind my back," I replied. There was no hurt or dejection in my voice. I was glad he was giving me a solid reason to dump him. "Do you know that every single guy I dated still tried to get me to sleep with them after they knew I wanted to wait? Every guy except for Christian. When I told him I was a virgin he immediately found my Bible, dragged me out into the freezing night and married me, his way, under the stars. I know by the world's standards, our marriage would seem rushed, out of the ordinary. What do they call it?" I asked, snapping my fingers to try and think of the right word. "Insta-love. But I say, why wait when you know your heart? I’ve known I’ve loved him since we were children."
She tried to skirt around my question by changing the subject. "I guess your upbringing in the church served as a positive influence to help you stick to your—"
I cut her off. "I'd like to think that too, Mom. At least that's what I told myself. I used what Nick almost did to me as an excuse to keep boys at bay. And then I used my faith as a safety net to justify it. But there was always something missing with the guys I dated, so it wasn't difficult for me to not sleep with them. I must've known deep down that I was waiting for someone. And that someone is Christian."
"Okay, so you believe Christian is the one. I understand why you think this, Mimi, but why do you want to rush talking to Micah to make plans for a wedding? I think a year is considered a proper engagement.”
"Why would I hesitate when I know something is right?"
"Because," she huffed. "You. Don't. Know. Him. Anymore." She'd said each word slowly and deliberately to make her point, and followed it up with, "You just think you do."
Instead of arguing with her, I smiled. "I've always known Christian, Mom. I just forgot that I did."
"You're not even making sense, Mimi. How did you just forget that you've always known Christian?" She was becoming frustrated, and instead of launching into accusations about how finding my birth certificate had turned my world upside down causing me to cut myself off from the important people in my life, I offered the simplest explanation that made sense.
"It’s similar to driving somewhere and before you know it, you arrive at your destination. But you can't remember any of the lights or stop signs in between. That's what it feels like, Mom. I've been driving my entire life toward this moment, and Christian has always been my destination. I know with every fiber of my being I'm supposed to be with him.”
Her eyes couldn't betray that she thought I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and I watched her fight against tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I'm asking for you to take your time with this. Hold off on talking to your grandfather. Go back to school. Gauge your feelings."
I silently relented. I walked toward her and hugged her tightly. I felt the tension seep out of her body when I whispered in her ear, "It's okay, Mom, I'll talk to Christian. We were thinking of asking Grandpa to marry us after I graduate, but maybe we'll use the summer to plan it and get married in the fall."
Her relief was obvious when she exhaled loudly, and a wisp of warm air brushed my neck.
Breaking the hug, I told her that I would let everyone know what we talked about, but not until I talked to Christian privately about it. She smiled and swiped at her eyes.
“I’m so relieved, Mimi,” she said, reaching for a tissue on her nightstand. She blew her nose. “Your graduation is right around the corner, and we both know your father would never allow you to marry him that soon.”
Never allow? That was the wrong thing to say to me.
When we returned to the group I was happy to see Christian was helping Aunt Christy put the food away while both our fathers seemed to be having a serious conversation by the fireplace.
I felt Christian's eyes on me as my mother and I walked toward the kitchen to help. Minutes later, we all joined my father and Uncle Anthony in the great room and I noticed that both sets of parents were trying not to yawn.
"I know that the four of you probably haven't slept. Why don't you take some cat naps while I take Christian to meet Rachelle and Travis?"
I saw the skepticism in my mother's expression. "What?" I challenged. "You think we're going to take off down the mountain and find a courthouse? I already promised that I wouldn't call Grandpa."
"No. Of course not. I just don't understand..." she began.
"Don't understand that I want my best friend to meet the man I’m going to marry? Look, Mom. It may not happen today, but it's going to happen. I suggest all of you start working on accepting it."
I didn't give anybody time to respond as I grabbed Christian's hand and pulled him out the front door.
Chapter 37
Pine Creek, North Carolina 2007
We arrived at Rachelle's house in less than ten minutes. My cousin and best friend looked like she was about to give birth to triplets as she clumsily hugged me and waved us both inside. She waddled toward the couch as she rubbed her back. She wasn't due for three weeks, but I wouldn't have been surprised if she popped out her second baby during the next ten minutes. Her husband and childhood sweetheart must've been in the barn out back because I saw his truck when we pulled up. Their eighteen-month-old, Travis Jr., was napping in his playpen. Without introducing Christian, I jumped right into a quick explanation of what had transpired over the past several days, closing with why both of our faces were purplish, Christian's more so than mine.
"This is the bass hole?" she asked, her eyes going wide.
I couldn't contain my grin as I gave Christian a sideways glance and explained, "She's the only other human being who read the letter that was supposedly from you."
He nodded his understanding as I went into even more detail with my cousin. Less than fifteen minutes later her phone rang. "You're spot on," she told me as she made her way to the landline that was perched on the kitchen counter and looked at the caller ID.
"Hi, Aunt Ginny," she answered in her normally bubbly tone. "Uh huh, yep. Sure. Do you want to talk to her?"
I took the phone out of her hand and asked, "What's up, Mom?" I listened to her and followed up with a question. "The big one or small one?" I glanced over at my cousin and asked, "Mom wants to know if she can borrow your deep fryer. Theirs is broken. She wants to fry a turkey for dinner tonight."
Rachelle gave me a knowing smile, and said loud enough for my mother to hear through the phone, "Of course!"
"Yes, Mom. Yes. I'll call you when we're on our way home. Do you want us to stop and get a turkey?"
After I hung up, I looked at my cousin and laughed. "I called that one. I knew she'd be checking to see if I was really here. Notice how she called your landline on purpose?"
There was a knock at the door, and I insisted Rachelle sit down while I answered it.
"Right on time," I said as I swung the door open. Launching myself into his arms and giving him a tight hug, I said, "Thank you for coming, Grandpa."
* * *
"Technically, tonight is our real wedding night," Christian told me as he pulled me over the console of my SUV and covered my face with kisses. We were heading back to the house, turkey fryer in tow, and had pulled over before turning up our road. "Are you sure they can keep a secret?"
"Absolutely," I assured him. "My grandfathe
r was thrilled that we were making it official. He's an old romantic at heart. And when he drops in later unexpectedly, he'll have on his poker face. They'll think he's seeing us for the first time. They won't have a clue he married us."
"It's a good thing he did," Christian admitted as he pulled back to look in my eyes. "If you hadn't called your grandfather on the way to Rachelle's I would've been tempted to do exactly what you suggested to your mother. Driven you right down to the nearest town with a courthouse."
"Then I guess it's a good thing we have a preacher in the family," I teased. I’d already explained to Christian that I was ready to ask him if we could wait until fall to get married instead of after graduation, when my mother’s final comment about my father not allowing it rubbed me the wrong way.
"I doubt we'll be able to sleep in the same room tonight.” His tone was serious, and I told him I agreed.
"You're coming back to Florida with me."
"I already told you I can't..."
"Yes, you can, Mimi. You have a few days before you have to be back at school and you can miss a couple days too. Drive back to Fort Lauderdale with me and you can fly back up and head directly to school."
I chewed on my lip as I pondered the feasibility.
"Look, baby. I love that you’re bold, and I love that you don't take any shit, but I'm insisting on this one. You need to come back to Florida with me. Just for a few days."
I started to see the situation from Christian's perspective. He'd watched me strut my stuff in front of our parents for the last several hours. Not backing down, going behind their backs and involving my grandfather in a clandestine wedding.
"Do you think I've somehow emasculated you by being so aggressive with everyone?"
He laughed. "No, Mimi. I don't feel emasculated because you're a strong and assertive woman. I'm proud of you for it. And last time I looked, my balls were still very much intact."
