Boardwalk Brides

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Boardwalk Brides Page 41

by Janice Thompson


  With the casting of the show behind her, Tangie could focus on the Valentine’s banquet. On the evening of the event, she looked through her clothing items for something appropriate to wear. Thanks to her many theater parties in New York City, she had plenty of eveningwear. She settled on a beautiful red and black dress with a bit of an Asian influence. Tony—her one-time Mr. Right—had said she looked like a million bucks in it. But then, he was prone to flattery, wasn’t he?

  At a quarter till seven, a knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in.” Tangie sat at the small vanity table, finishing up her makeup but paused to look up as Gran-Gran whistled.

  “Tangie.” Her grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe what?” She slipped her earrings on and gave herself one last glance.

  Gran-Gran drew close. “You look so much like your mother did at this age. And I just had the strangest flashback.”

  “Oh?” Tangie looked at her with a smile. “What was it?”

  Her grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. “This was her bedroom, you know. And I remember the day she got married, watching her put on her makeup and fix her hair in that very spot.” She pointed to the vanity table, then dabbed at her eyes. “Look at me. I’m a silly old woman.”

  Tangie rose from her seat and moved in her grandmother’s direction. “There’s nothing silly about what you just said. I think it’s sweet. And it’s fun to think that Mom used to get ready in this same room. I guess I never thought about it before.” She pointed at her dress. “What do you think? Do I look okay?”

  “Oh, honey.” Gran-Gran brushed a loose hair from Tangie’s face, “I’ve never seen you look prettier. In fact, I want to get some pictures of you to send to your parents. They’re never going to believe you’re so dolled up.”

  “Sure they will. Remember the bridesmaid’s dress I wore at Taffie’s wedding on the beach? And don’t you remember those dresses we wore at Candy’s wedding last year?”

  “Yes.” Gran-Gran nodded. “But I think tonight surpasses them all.”

  Gramps stuck his head in the door and whistled. “I’m gonna have the prettiest two women at the banquet. How lucky can one guy be?” After a chuckle, he headed off to start the car, hollering, “Don’t take too long, ladies. The roads are bad and we’ll need a little extra time.”

  Tangie donned her heavy winter coat and reached for a scarf. After one last glance in the mirror, she grabbed her purse and followed along on her grandmother’s heels to the garage, where Gramps was waiting in the now-heated Ford.

  “Are you ready for the program tonight?” Gran-Gran asked as they settled into the car.

  “I guess so. I found the perfect song.”

  “Oh?”

  “Gershwin, of course. ‘Someone to Watch over Me.’ ”

  “I heard you playing it. Of course, I’ve heard you play a great many things over the past few days. It’s good to have music in the house again. But I’m tickled you chose that particular song. It’s one of my favorites from when I was a girl.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. I used to be quite the performer. I’d stand in front of that vanity—the same one you used to put on your makeup—and hold a hairbrush in my hand, pretending it was a microphone. Then I’d sing at the top of my lungs. And I was always putting on little shows and such in the neighborhood.”

  “Yes, she’s always been quite the performer,” Gramps added. “She even had a starring role in a community theater show about twenty years ago. Back when we had a community theater, I mean. It’s long since been torn down.”

  “So, what happened?” Tangie asked. “Why did you stop?”

  Gran-Gran sighed. “I don’t know. Just fizzled out, I guess.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Dreams are like flowers, honey,” her grandmother said. “They need watering and tending to. If you neglect them, well, they just die off.”

  Sad. But true. And hadn’t Penny pretty much said the same thing? Dreams needed to be chased after. Tangie wondered if the Lord might be nudging her back to New York to pursue some of those dreams she’d given up on. Perhaps the answer would be clearer in time.

  In the meantime, Tangie focused on her grandmother’s words as they made the short drive to the church. When they arrived, Tangie searched for Darla, the pianist. Hopefully she would have time to run over her song one last time.

  As she rounded the corner near the choir room, Tangie paused. The most beautiful tenor voice rang out. The voice drew her, much like one of the Pied Piper’s tunes that captivated children.

  She peeked inside the room and caught a glimpse of Gregg, dressed in a dark suit. He stood with his back to her, singing another one of her favorite Gershwin songs, “But Not for Me.” She listened intently as he sang the bittersweet words about a man who feared he would never find love. Tangie heard genuine sadness in Gregg’s voice. Either that, or his acting skills really were better than he’d let on.

  She slipped into the room and sat in a chair at the back. When he finished, she applauded and he turned her way, his cheeks flashing red. “Tangie. I didn’t know you were here.”

  She slowly rose and walked to the piano. “Dave asked me to sing tonight, too. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course. He told me. Your grandmother thinks very highly of your singing abilities.”

  “Hmm.” Tangie shrugged. “Well, we’ll see if anyone else agrees, or if her opinion of me is highly overrated.”

  She handed her music to Darla and the introduction for “Someone to Watch over Me” began. With Gregg standing at her side, Tangie started to sing.

  ***

  Gregg could hardly believe what he was hearing. Tangie’s singing voice blew him away. And as she sang the familiar words, he almost felt they were directed at him. She’s looking for someone to watch over her.

  Just as quickly, he chided himself. They were here to work together. Nothing more. Still, as the music flowed from page to page, Gregg found himself captivated by this chameleon who stood before him. She was both actress and singer. And amazing at both, from what he could tell. Not to mention beautiful. In this red and black number, she looked like something straight off the stages of Broadway.

  When she ended the song, Gregg shook his head, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t, really. Not yet, anyway.

  Thankfully, he didn’t have to. Darla clapped her hands together and turned to him. “I have the most amazing idea,” she said, turning pages in the Gershwin book. She dog-eared a couple of pages, then kept flipping, clearly not content as of yet with her choices. “You two need to sing a song together.”

  “W–what?” Tangie shook her head. “But the banquet starts in ten minutes and we haven’t rehearsed anything.”

  “You won’t need to.” Darla began to play, her fingers practically dancing across the keys. “You two can pull off a last minute performance, no problem. Trust me. You don’t need rehearsal time. You each have the most beautiful voices. And I’m sure the blend will be amazing.” She turned to face Tangie. “Now, you sing alto, Tangie. And, Gregg, you sing lead.”

  “B–but. . .” He gave up on the argument after just one word because the first verse kicked in. He began to warble out the first words to “Embraceable You,” fully aware of the fact that he was singing directly to—and with—one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Within seconds, Tangie added a perfect harmony to his now-solid melody line and they were off and running. Lord, what are You doing here? First I kiss her, now I’m singing her a love song?

  After just one verse, Darla stopped playing and looked back and forth between them, shaking her head. Her gaze landed on Tangie. “You know, for an actress, you’re not giving this much effort.”

  “E–excuse me?” Tangie’s eyes widened.

  “You’re not very believable, I mean. This is a love song. You two act like you’re terrified of each other. Can’t you hold hands and look each other i
n the eye while you sing? Something like that? Isn’t that what they teach you to do on Broadway? To play the part?”

  “Well, yes, but. . .”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Gregg took hold of her hands. “We don’t want to get Darla mad, trust me. I did that once in a vocal team practice and she knuckled me in the upper arm.”

  “Did not,” Darla muttered.

  “Did, too,” he countered. Gregg turned to look at Tangie, unable to hide the smile that wanted to betray his heart. “We might as well go along with this. Besides, tonight is all about romance, and half the people in the room are huge Gershwin fans. So, why not?”

  “O–okay.”

  Darla began the piece again, and this time Gregg held tight to Tangie’s hands, singing like a man in love from start to finish. Tangie responded with passion in her eyes—and her voice. If he didn’t know her acting skills were so good, Gregg would have to think she really meant the words of the song.

  He could barely breathe as the song continued. The voice flowing out of her tonight was pure velvet. And the way they harmonized. . .he could hardly believe it. While he’d sung with hundreds of people over the years, none had blended with his like this. Never.

  As they wrapped up the last line, Dave stuck his head in the door. “Gregg, are you ready?” He took one look at the two of them holding hands and stared in silence. “Whoa.”

  Tangie pulled her hands loose and started fidgeting with her hair. She reached to grab her purse and scooted past him. “I’ll see you in the fellowship hall. Just holler when you’re ready for me.”

  Darla rose from the piano bench and gave him a knowing look. She, too, left the room. Dave took a couple of steps inside. “Someone having a change of heart?”

  “I. . .” Gregg shook his head. “I don’t have a clue what’s happening.”

  “That’s half the fun of falling in love,” Dave said, slapping him on the back. “What fun would it be if you knew what was coming? Let it be a surprise. Besides, you could use a few surprises in your life. You’re a little. . .predictable.”

  “Not always,” Gregg countered.

  “Oh yeah?” Dave laughed. “Do you realize you always order the same meal at the diner?”

  “Well, yeah, but. . .”

  “And what about your clothes? Did you realize you always wear a blue button-up shirt on Fridays?”

  “Well, that’s because Friday was our school color day when I was a kid.”

  “This isn’t grade school, my friend.” Dave chuckled. “And what’s up with your hair? You’ve combed it exactly the same way ever since I met you.”

  “I have?”

  “You have. And I’d be willing to bet you’re still listening to that same CD I gave you for Christmas last year.”

  “Well, it’s a great CD. I love those songs.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Dave paused, his eyes narrowing. “You eat the same foods, you keep the same routine, you wear the same clothes. And your office is meticulous. Can’t you mess it up, even just a little? Do something different for a change! Live on the edge, bro.”

  Gregg sighed. “Okay, okay. . .so I’m predictable. But I’m working on it. Wait till you see that new song we’re doing in choir on Sunday. I’m trying to stretch myself.”

  Dave grinned. “That’s great. But don’t jump too far out of the box. Might scare people.”

  “There’s little chance of that.” Gregg chuckled as he thought about it. No, where music was concerned, he was liable to stick with what he knew. But in matters of the heart? Well, that was something altogether different.

  ***

  Tangie somehow made her way through the meal portion of the banquet, nervous about the music, which was scheduled to begin during dessert. Something rather magical had happened in that choir room, something undeniable. She and Gregg sang together as if they’d been born to do so, but there was more to it than that. Chemistry. That was really the only word to describe it. And not the kind in a science lab.

  As she nibbled on her baked potato, Tangie caught a glimpse of Gregg, who was seated across the table and down a few feet. In his dark suit and tie, he looked really good. She watched as a couple of the young women from the church vied for his attention. Though polite, he didn’t seem particularly interested in any of them.

  “Where’s Ashley tonight?” Tangie asked, turning to her grandmother.

  “Ah. She’s out with an old beau.” Gran-Gran’s eyebrows elevated. “A guy from college.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry she’s not going to be here. I was looking forward to hanging out with her.”

  “Well, get to know some of the other people your age,” her grandmother suggested. She nodded in Gregg’s direction. “I see someone about your same age sitting right there.”

  “Gran-Gran. No matchmaking.”

  “Matchmaking? Me?” Her grandmother shook her head. “Heavens, no. I wouldn’t think of it.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t put Darla up to any tricks, either.”

  “Darla? Hmm? What did you say, honey? I’m having a little trouble hearing you tonight with all of the people talking.”

  “Sure you are.”

  The meal wrapped up in short order, and the lights in the room went down as the small stage area at the front was lit. Tangie smiled at the decorations. Cupids, hearts, and candles. . .as far as the eye could see.

  As Gregg sang his song, Tangie closed her eyes and listened. With her eyes shut, she could almost picture him singing on a huge stage at one of the bigger theaters in New York. He had that kind of voice—the kind that landed lead roles. Why hadn’t he gone that direction? He could’ve made a lot of money with a voice like that.

  Just as quickly, she knew the answer. His love was the Lord. . .and the church. She saw it on Sunday mornings as he led worship. She’d witnessed it on Thursday nights as she walked past the choir room and heard him leading the choir.

  Still, as he crooned the familiar love song, she couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities he’d missed out on.

  When his song came to an end, Gregg introduced her to the dinner guests. “Ladies and gentlemen, one of our newest members—straight from the stages of New York City—Tangie Carini.”

  Gran-Gran nudged her. “Your turn, sweetie. Show ’em what you’ve got.”

  “I–I’ll do my best,” she whispered. “But remember, I’m an actress, not really much of a vocalist.”

  “Humph. That’s for us to decide.”

  As she made her way to the stage, Tangie whispered a prayer. She somehow made it through her song, but found herself facing Gregg, who’d taken a seat at the table nearest the stage. The words poured forth, and she allowed them to emanate with real emotion. How wonderful would it be, to have someone to watch over her? To love her and care for her? Someone with sticking power.

  As the song came to a conclusion, the audience erupted in applause. Tangie’s cheeks felt warm as she gave a little bow. Then, with her nerves climbing the charts, she nodded in Gregg’s direction and he joined her on stage.

  “We’ve decided to try our hand at a duet,” he said, after taking the microphone in hand. “Though we haven’t had a lot of practice.” He turned to Tangie and whispered, “You ready for this?”

  She nodded, realizing she was, indeed, ready. . .for anything life might throw her way.

  FOURTEEN

  The Valentine’s banquet ended on a high note, pun intended. Everyone in the place gathered around Tangie and Gregg after they sang, gushing with glowing comments. She heard everything from, “You two are a match made in heaven,” to “Best harmony in Harmony!”

  Oh, but it had felt good to sing with him, hadn’t it? And gazing into his eyes, their hands tightly clasped, she could almost picture the two of them doing that. . .forever.

  Of course, she might be leaving in April. That would certainly put a damper on forever. Still, she could imagine it all, if even for a moment.

  After the crowd dissipated, Tan
gie helped her grandmother and some of the other women clean the fellowship hall. She noticed that Gregg disappeared and wondered about it, but didn’t ask.

  Gran-Gran’s voice rang out, interrupting her thoughts. “Honey, they need your help in the choir room.”

  “They? Who are they?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure Darla and Dave are in there with Gregg. Seems like someone said something about putting music away. Or maybe they said something about music for the Easter production. I can’t remember.” Gran-Gran yawned. “I just know I’m tired.”

  “Oh, I’m sure this can wait till later. I’m ready to go.”

  “No.” With the wave of a hand, her grandmother shooed her out of the room. “You go on, now. Do whatever you have to do.”

  Tangie headed off to the choir room, where she found Gregg alone, seated at the piano. With his back turned to her, he didn’t see—or hear—her enter. She found herself intrigued by the piece of music pouring out of him. It was truly one of the most beautiful melodies she’d ever heard. Truly anointed.

  He continued to play and she drew near, pulling up a chair next to him. Not that he noticed. No, as the music poured forth, his eyes remained closed. For a moment, Tangie wondered if she might be invading his privacy. Lord, is this how he worships?

  There wasn’t time for a response. The music stopped abruptly and Gregg turned her way, a startled look on his face.

  “I–I’m sorry.” She stood. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No, it’s fine.” His eyes flashed with embarrassment. “I just needed a little alone time after that banquet. Might sound weird, but I usually don’t leave the church until I’ve spent a little time on the piano. It helps me wind down.”

  “Makes perfect sense to me.” After pausing a moment, she asked the question on her heart. “Did you write that piece?”

  He nodded. “I have quite a few worship melodies like that. If you listen on Sunday mornings, sometimes I play them during the quiet times in worship, when people are at the altar praying. There’s something about worship music that’s so. . .”

 

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