by Maria Geraci
“Like I said, just a few days. I thought maybe one night this week we could say good-bye to the house. In style. I’ll even cook dinner.” His dark eyes got that smoky look in them that she instantly recognized, and she was flooded with relief. She knew him well enough by now to know exactly what “in style” was code for.
#
“So you’re skipping out on Bunco this week to have good-bye sex with Steve?” Pilar asked, taking a sip of her mocha skinny fake-milk latte (with the real sugar added).
It was Monday morning at The Bistro and Kitty had dropped by to have an impromptu powwow with Shea and Pilar. Frida had brought them their coffee and bagels and had decided to join them in a table near the back facing the gulf.
“Just good-bye to the house,” Kitty said, careful not to let her temper get away from her. “Not good-bye to us.” She’d been avoiding Shea and Pilar ever since last week’s disastrous Bunco night, but she couldn’t keep the news of her father’s wedding from them for long. Or from the rest of the town, either.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” Betty Jean Collins had said, grabbing her by the arm the second she’d walked in The Bistro door this morning.
Kitty liked Betty Jean the way you liked sesame seeds on your bagel. They were there for a purpose, but what that purpose was she didn’t know. Then of course, there was the way they got stuck in your teeth… “What isn’t true?” she’d asked.
“That your father is getting married before you!”
“It’s true,” Kitty had replied.
“I heard your man already moved out. I hope you aren’t mad at me about the card.”
Kitty had been about to set Betty Jean straight about Steve “moving out” when the last part of her sentence struck home. “Card? What are you talking about?”
Betty Jean had blinked. “Never mind. Just remember, if it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. A man like yours…well, I guess technically he isn’t yours. But a man like that isn’t going to stay available for long. Gotta go now!” Then she’d scrambled back to join the rest of her group at their table.
It was official. If men were from Mars and women were from Venus, then Betty Jean was from a different galaxy all together.
“I had the weirdest Betty Jean encounter just a few minutes ago,” she said to the girls. “Well, weirder than usual anyway.”
Pilar, Shea and Frida all gave each other guilty looks. “What kind of encounter?” Frida asked cautiously.
“Something about giving Steve a card. And she knew Steve had moved into the Mexico Beach house, which is strange, because how on earth did she find out about that?”
Pilar put her coffee down with a sigh. “I’m afraid everyone knows, Kit.”
“Everyone? What do you mean?”
“Viola saw Steve put a suitcase in his truck and then she mentioned it to Gus, who told her that Steve is staying at the Mexico Beach house. From there it spread to the rest of the Gray Flamingos, and then of course I knew from you, and then—”
“Never mind,” Kitty said wearily. “You’re right. Everyone knows.”
Shea shook her head. “You can’t keep news like that a secret in Whispering Bay.”
“He only moved into the house so he can do some work on it before the inspection. He has some really lovely pieces in there that aren’t part of the sale and he’s going to remove them and replace them with other fixtures. Like this gorgeous sink in the kitchen that he bought in Milan. He’s taking that out to put it…well, you know, in another house someday.”
This was met with silence.
“Honest. We’re all good,” she said. “You should see how much work he’s doing for Dad’s wedding.”
“Speaking of which, I met Sharon,” Frida said, perking up. “She and your dad came by early this morning for coffee and muffins and she invited us to the ceremony.”
“She did?” Kitty tried not to look as surprised as she felt.
“Of course she did,” Pilar said. “We told her all about how we’ve been your best friends since fourth grade, which makes us like your sisters, really, and how the rest of the Bunco Babes are like your family, so she invited us all to come. She seems perfect, Kit, not at all like your dad’s usual type. You must be so happy!”
“I am,” she admitted. And she was. Yes, of course she was.
“How’s your mom taking the news?” Pilar asked.
“I haven’t spoken with her yet,” Kitty admitted.
“Don’t put that off,” Shea said. “You know how testy she can be. So what are you wearing to the wedding? I hear you’re going to be the best man,” she added with a giggle. “Which is just so dang sweet.”
“I’m going shopping with my dad later this week.”
“Wear green. You look fabulous in green,” Shea said.
“Shea’s right,” Pilar said. “Pick out something green. Or blue. You look good in that, too.”
“And the wedding is going to be at the Methodist church? What about the reception?” Frida asked. “And who all is going? We want details!”
“Rehearsal dinner is at The Harbor House and the reception will take place immediately after the ceremony at my house, catered by some company in Panama City that Steve’s assistant found. It will be simple and elegant. Cold shrimp, canapés, champagne, and cake. The flowers and the organist have already been taken care of and Sharon’s two daughters will be her matrons of honor. They’re wearing peach, so I’m not sure about the green. Dad will be wearing a dark blue suit, so I was thinking of coordinating with him. As for the guest list, it will mainly be Sharon’s family and Steve and I. And well, all of you, I guess.”
“Wow,” Shea said. “You did all that in two days? I’m impressed.”
“Actually, Steve did most of it. I told you, he’s really into this wedding.”
More silence. Which wasn’t like them at all. Usually her friends had absolutely no trouble saying exactly what was on their minds.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Kitty demanded.
Frida sighed. “I think this should come from one of you,” she said to Shea and Pilar.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Shea asked.
Pilar nodded. She tossed out scissors but Shea won out with rock.
“Best two out of three?” Pilar pleaded.
Kitty crossed her arms over her chest. “Out. With. It.”
Pilar put on her I-have-to-give-someone-bad-news face. “Did it occur to you that maybe the reason Steve is so into this wedding is because he’s trying to avoid another wedding?” she suggested softly.
Kitty opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Damn it. She really hated when they were right. She blinked back a tear. “It might have occurred to me, maybe. I don’t know.”
Frida took her hand. “I swear, Kit, just say the word and Steve is persona non grata here. If he wants coffee, he’ll have to go to the Starbucks in Destin. Or make it himself.”
What?
Kitty snatched her hand away. “Is that why you were so rude to him the other morning? Because you think he’s just messing with me?”
“I wasn’t rude to him. Not really,” Frida said defensively. “I just told him he had to pay extra for his milk.”
“I’m only going to say this one more time,” Kitty said as sternly as possible. “Steve and I are fine. And if we’re not…then we’ll work it out. But if you’re rude to him, then you’re rude to me. Got it?”
Frida’s eyes widened. “Got it.”
“We’re sorry, Kit,” Pilar said. “It’s just sometimes we get carried away. But it’s only because we love you.”
Shea nodded. “The whole town loves you. Remember that.”
Remember that? What was that supposed to mean?
She loved this town, too, she really did, but sometimes she wished she lived somewhere a little less intense.
Her cell phone buzzed. She had an appointment with a client in less than thirty minutes to show a house over on Ocean Avenue. Hopefully this wasn’t a cancellation. She glanced a
t the screen. It was worse than a cancellation.
“It’s my mom,” she said.
“I’m late for a city council meeting,” Pilar announced, sliding out of her chair.
“Me too,” Shea said, quickly following Pilar’s cue. “Um, not that I’m on the city council, but I’m sure that I’m late for something.”
Frida jumped up from the table. “Look at all those customers waiting!”
“Cowards,” Kitty muttered under her breath as she watched the three of them scrambling for cover. Not that she blamed them. Her mother was like a category one hurricane waiting to be upgraded at a moment’s notice. She might have been divorced from Kitty’s father for two and a half decades and happily remarried, but she still considered Alan Burke her ex in every sense of the word.
“Hi, Mom!” Kitty said, forcing as much enthusiasm as possible.
“Oh, darling, how are you?” Her voice held just the right amount of sympathy to make Kitty cringe.
“What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, sweetie. Your dad and I had a long talk last week. I know all about it.”
“You and Dad talked? To each other?” As far as Kitty knew, her parents only communicated through her.
“We made a special exception. Your father called me last week to tell me all about his wedding and his plans to include you as the best man.” Her mother audibly shuddered. “It’s ridiculous, of course, but that’s your father for you, and it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“I’m really happy for Dad, Mom.”
“Oh, Katherine, I always knew you were a special child. You’d fall off your bike and never shed a tear. Who does that? But it’s all right, it’s me. Mom. You can let it all out now. I won’t judge you.”
“Good to know. But what exactly am I supposed to let out?”
“Your anger! Your frustration! You’re a beautiful, intelligent young woman and all your friends are married with children except you. And now, your geezer of a father is having an elaborate wedding at the age of sixty-five. It’s just all so…unfair! I know you have to pretend around everyone else, but not me, hon. I’m here for you. So, go ahead.”
Kitty was speechless. For one thing, she was in public, so there wasn’t going to be any letting out of any frustration. Even if she had any. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice low enough that Betty Jean and the rest of the Gray Flamingos curiously glancing her way wouldn’t hear what she was about to say.
“Mom, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m thrilled that Daddy is getting remarried. And it’s not an elaborate wedding. It’s just a small family thing. As for myself, like you said, I’m a beautiful, intelligent young woman, thank you very much for that. If marriage and kids are in my future, then I still have plenty of time.”
“Oh, Katherine, you did know I was lying about the young part, didn’t you?”
“Bye, Mom. We’ll talk next week.”
“But—”
Kitty hung up before her mother could say anything else. Good grief!
She stood up from the table and smoothed down her lime green pencil skirt. She was a professional, and she had a client to impress and all sorts of important things to take care of today. She wasn’t about to let herself get rattled by a phone call from her mother!
She glanced around the crowded café to see most of the patrons looking at her with…what? Curiosity? Sadness? It was true, the past few days had been…confusing. But she wasn’t jealous of her own father, for God’s sake! Because how messed up would that be?
Kitty put on her bravest smile, raised her chin, and walked out the door.
CHAPTER SIX
There were times in a man’s life when he realized he had to step up to the plate. To grow a pair, so to speak. Steve thought he’d encountered those times before. Like when he’d decided to join the army. Or when he’d taken a chance and started his own company. But all that had been child’s play compared to what was happening at the moment.
“You seem uncomfortable,” said the middle-aged woman with the black glasses.
“Just a little,” he confessed. This place wasn’t what he’d expected. It looked like some cozy den tucked away in the back of one of the spec houses he’d built over at Dolphin Isles. At least there wasn’t a couch. Just a few overstuffed chairs and a desk. No padded walls.
Dr. Joanna Carson, LCP, smiled at him. “That’s a normal reaction when you first start therapy.”
He waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t, which meant the ball was in his court. “Yeah, I guess.”
“So let’s talk about why you’re here.”
“Like I said, I want to figure out what mistakes I made in my past marriages so I don’t make them again.”
“Because you’re thinking of getting remarried?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. It depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“On what you tell me.”
“You don’t strike me as the type of man who sits back and lets other people tell him what to do.”
“Listen, doc—”
“Please, call me Joanna.”
“Okay, Joanna, I didn’t come here to listen to a bunch of platitudes. I really need your help. I don’t want to fu—I don’t want to screw up this time.”
“Why do you think you need help?”
If the next words out of her mouth were “And how do you feel about that?” he was out the door. When he’d walked by her office the other day on the way to the construction site, he’d taken it as a sign. He’d checked out her credentials online, but that still didn’t mean she wasn’t a quack. Maybe this had been nothing but a big mistake.
“I’ve been divorced three times. Most people would say there’s something wrong with me.”
“Do you think there’s something wrong with you?”
“My third wife told me the other day that I was a cold son-of-a-bitch.”
“Are those your words or hers?”
“Mine,” he admitted.
She kept her expression neutral. “And is that how you see yourself?”
He hesitated. There was no good way to answer that question. Not without validating Terrie’s opinion of him.
“Look, Steve, this isn’t going to work if you’re not honest. What is it about the idea of therapy that you dislike?”
“It’s just not for me.”
“Yet, you’re here. No one forced you to walk through my door the other day to make an appointment. Did they?”
“No. Not exactly. It’s just…look, I don’t see how this is going to work.”
“All right. Make sure to leave your billing address with the receptionist out front.” She began to get up.
“Wait. That’s it? You’re giving up on me already?”
“I think you’re the one who’s giving up. But if you’d like to talk some more, you still have almost an hour left in the session.”
Damn. She was good.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay, so, I had lunch with my third ex-wife the other day and she told me one of the reasons our marriage fell apart was because I couldn’t express my feelings.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“So it’s important I don’t do that again.”
“Because you’re in a relationship right now.”
“That’s right. And I really need it to work out this time.”
“I can understand that,” she said.
“It’s just that Kitty, that’s my…girlfriend…her dad is getting remarried and while that’s great, it’s sort of put me in the hot seat.”
“Ah. I’m beginning to see your dilemma.”
Okay. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Dr. Carson—Joanna—seemed pretty sympathetic.
“Our one year anniversary, which also happens to be her birthday, is coming up this weekend. I think she’s expecting a big gesture, if you know what I mean. So I moved out temporarily. Just to get my head
on straight.”
Joanna stared at him for a moment. “Why don’t we start by you telling me all about your first marriage?”
So he told her the whole story. How as a teenager, he’d rebelled against his dad, started smoking dope, and dropped out of high school. He’d been working construction when he walked into a strip joint and ended up married to one of the dancers a couple of weeks later. “Obviously, it was a huge mistake.”
“For both of you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“What did you do after the divorce?”
“I cleaned up my act. Got my GED. Joined the army.”
She gave him the pleased therapist nod. He’d only been here half an hour but he recognized it already. “So, in some ways, you could say the failure behind that first marriage propelled you into another phase of your life.”
“I guess.”
Then they talked about his second wife, Sarah, who he’d met during his stint in the army when he’d been stationed overseas. They’d both been lonely, never a good reason to get married, but at least they’d parted as friends.
“Let’s talk a little about what your third wife said to you the other day.”
“You mean when she said I had trouble expressing my feelings?”
She nodded. “How did that make you feel?”
He stifled a groan and settled back in his chair. He’d been duped. This was going to be every bit as painful as he’d first imagined.
#
If you’d asked Kitty last week how she’d be spending her afternoon off, shopping with her father would have never occurred to her. Yet here they were at the outdoor mall in Destin, doing just that. They’d picked up Dad’s wedding gear—a navy blue, light wool designer suit with a white shirt and paisley tie—almost two hours ago. That had been the easy part of the trip. It was Wednesday afternoon and everything was ready for the big day. Except Kitty’s best man outfit.
She studied a mannequin wearing a black-and-white polka dot sundress. “I guess that would be too beachy, huh?” This was the fifth store they’d hit so far and her dad was still being incredibly patient. In all her nearly thirty-six years, Kitty couldn’t remember when he’d ever gone shopping with her.
“How about this?” He held up a cream-colored sleeveless silk dress that might work, except…
