After dressing in her shorts and another blouse, Marley settled on the brown leather couch, her legs curled under her. Richard had added a white T-shirt. After flopping onto a leather recliner, he sent the bottom out to support his legs.
“Not much has changed with you, has it?” Marley said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That woman’s stuff in the bathroom, the discarded lace underwear. I remember you were quite the ladies’ man in college.”
“What should I have done after you brushed me off?” He pushed the handle on the side of his chair and his legs came down. He leaned toward her. “Why did you? I thought we had something good going.”
Marley sighed. “I don’t know. Immaturity, I guess.”
“I was immature?” He looked about ready to jump out of his chair.
With another sigh, Marley fluttered her hands to indicate he should stay seated. “Don’t get your hackles up. I was the immature one. You were this real popular guy, and I didn’t know how to handle you.”
Richard leaned back in his chair. “That’s great. I had to be handled in some special way.”
Marley bit her lower lip. “I’m not saying any of this right. Back then, I was having issues with my father returning.”
“I remember.”
“And I thought you might be like him.”
His voice nearly exploded. “You thought I was like that womanizing cheat you complained about all the time?” He gripped the chair arm, getting control of himself before adding, “I wouldn’t do that to you. It wasn’t until you ended it that I even looked at another woman.”
“I was young and naive.” Marley averted her gaze. “It wasn’t my grandest hour.” Oh, if only she could relive those days with some maturity. “The issues I faced got in the way, and I confused them with you. I didn’t want to go through what my mother did. What she’s going through now,” she added in an aside.
Richard glanced at her, then looked away. “He’s back?”
“Yes. Lindy wanted him to give her away. This is the first time he’s been at any of the weddings, and he’s staying in the house.”
After a long pause, Richard asked, “You have any extra room in your luggage?”
Perplexed, Marley nodded.
“Then you might want to pack the other things you mentioned. They belong to Lindy. She stayed here a few times when I was gone while taking care of the Baroness.” As if prompted by the sound of her name, the cat jumped onto Richard’s lap.
“Did your brother stay here with Lindy?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been invited to watch the videos.”
“Oh, you!” Marley tossed one of the cat’s toys at Richard, but he managed to catch it in midair and gave it to the Baroness.
After a long pause, Marley asked, “So how many times have you made it to the altar?”
“Once. No kids, and it ended several years ago. What about you?”
About to say never, Marley sat up with a start. With nervous energy, she tucked her hands between the cushions and found an earring and some change but not the ring. Where had she put it? After a quick search around the couch, Marley headed for the bedroom.
Brant sat forward. “What are you doing?”
When she didn’t answer, he followed her.
“I lost it.”
“Lost what?”
“My ring. I took it off and put it in my shoe while I was taking a bath.” She paused before sputtering, “My open-toed, you-can’t-put-a-ring-in-it shoe!” On her hands and knees, Marley crawled across the plush rug, sweeping her hand around.
“This it?”
Marley turned to find Richard standing above her with the ring. She accepted his offered hand and got to her feet. “Yes. Where was it?”
“By the tub.” He dropped it into her hand and returned to the living room.
She slipped it on the proper finger before following him. “You’re engaged?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued in an emotionless voice, “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARLEY COULDN’T SLEEP, not after seeing Richard’s disappointment. More than a decade ago, she had loved this man, and at one point had expected to marry him. Now...now she was “engaged” to Brant. Marley turned over and pounded her pillow. Why was she stuck with Brant when Richard was available—and interested?
Marley tossed again. An engagement bound two people. She had to respect that...mainly because the truth would make a liar out of her. Still... She flipped again, unable to dislodge her thoughts. And why did Brant have to continually invade them?
Brant, needling, flashing that smile. She hated this engagement. She hated him for his utter enjoyment in being engaged to her. She hated him....Finally, exhaustion set in, and she fell asleep.
Marley awoke to a light tap on the door and the smell of bacon and coffee. Richard peeked in. “Breakfast’s ready. I have to make a quick trip to the office.”
She joined him a few minutes later. “Nice,” she said, taking a tall chair at the bar. An array of jams in jars plus wheat toast sat on the counter along with two plates filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. The Baroness came over and rubbed against Marley’s ankles.
“If the cat’s bothering you, I can put her in my room.”
“No, she’s fine.” Marley reached down and petted the cat’s soft fur until she purred.
“You like anything in your coffee?” Richard poured, then pushed containers of sugar and cream toward her. “Can’t remember if you even like coffee.”
“I do.” She added cream. “You cook like this on a regular basis? I usually grab a breakfast bar and pick up coffee at a local coffee stand when I’m off to work.”
“I like breakfasts. My specialty is omelets. Not enough time this morning.” He took a sip of coffee, put his cup down, then placed his hands on the bar, leaning slightly toward her. “As I recall, you made a few breakfasts for me back when—”
“Let’s not go there, Richard.”
“Sure.” He smacked the bar and turned back to his plate. “So when are you getting married? Is this the first time?”
Marley slowly chewed the bacon before speaking. “First time. Haven’t decided when, exactly.”
“Someone you met in Phoenix?”
Marley nodded.
“Not your usual womanizing guy?”
“No.”
Richard chuckled, then returned to his food. “He coming to the wedding?” he asked, picking up his plate and bringing it to the sink. The Baroness jumped on the bar, and he shooed her down.
“No.”
“What? You’re not letting your family put him through the inquisition?” When she shook her head, he added, “Aha. You don’t want him exposed to all your beautiful sisters. It might weaken his resolve, and he’d show just how unfaithful he can be.”
Marley stacked her dirty dishes and brought them over to the sink. “I’m safe. He doesn’t go for blondes.” At least not from what she’d observed. All the women she’d seen him with had hair as dark as his. She found the dish soap and began running water into the sink.
Richard placed several items in the refrigerator before joining her. He slipped his hand under her hair and ran it through his fingers. “A man after my own heart. I always loved your hair.”
The touch felt nice, comforting. She faced him with a smile. “Yeah, sure. Because it reminds you of your mother’s dog.”
“Don’t put Sheba down. She’s a true champion, and except for a telltale doggy odor, she could make any man happy. Maybe I’ll introduce her to your fiancé and see if there’s any attraction.”
Marley said, “You won’t get the chance. I told you—he’s not coming.”
“We’ll see ab
out that.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Got to go. Let me know if you need the place again tonight.”
Marley dallied at the sink, enjoying the moment. Reuniting with Richard felt comfortable. Maybe...Then she noticed her ring, surrounded by a rainbow of soapsuds. No maybes or anything else until she had this ring off her finger for good.
* * *
ON THE WAY to her mother’s, Marley passed the local motel and pulled into the parking area. She sat in the car, mulling her choices. She had no desire to stay with her mother and learn more about her mother’s present feelings for Red. Nor did she consider Richard’s offer a possibility. A motel room would probably max out her credit card, but it did offer a solution. After running through the drizzle to book a room, she gathered all her belongings from the car and placed them in the motel room. At least she was set for the night.
Her aunt Effie, who had arrived at her mother’s earlier, wanted some time alone with Marley, so the two took off for lunch. Over the years, she and her aunt had developed a close relationship. Since Marley’s discussion with Dede hadn’t provided any solutions, she decided to be forthcoming with her aunt.
“Tell me everything—spare no details,” Effie said, patting Marley’s hand and fingering the ring. “You never even mentioned Brant in your last letter.” Her aunt hadn’t advanced into the technological age, so all their correspondence went through snail mail. Effie had gained a little weight since the last time Marley had seen her, and her short coiffed curls now had a hint of blue in the gray.
“It’s a lie. All of it.” Marley sat back against the padded booth in the restaurant and watched as her aunt slowly put her glass of water back on the table.
“What’s a lie?”
“My engagement. I just couldn’t come back here and face everyone old and alone.”
Effie flipped the menu open and stared at it. “We better order. I think I’ll need something that sticks to the ribs.” She smiled at the waitress and said, “Give me the highest cholesterol thing you’ve got. I’m looking forward to my heart attack.”
After the waitress took their order of burgers and fries with gravy, a delicacy in western Pennsylvania, Effie turned to Marley and said, “There’s nothing wrong in being alone. I’ve certainly enjoyed it. Saved me from a lot of heartache and a great deal of crap.”
“Oh, Auntie, I didn’t mean—”
“You’ve heard the saying—I never realized the last man who asked me to marry him would be the last man to ask me?”
Marley nodded.
“Well, that wasn’t me. I never wanted to spend my life waiting on a man, and I never needed one to wait on me. And I sure never wanted the type of relationship your mother settled on. She’s, pardon the expression, turned into a yo-yo.” With a wave of her hand, Effie added, “Forget all that. Let’s get down to what’s bothering you. Who’s this Brant and how long have you known him?”
“He’s my neighbor, and he’s lived in the condo next door to mine since before I moved in. Not that you’d notice. I didn’t know he existed until about two months ago, when he showed up.”
Effie picked up a roll and began buttering it. “Good-looking?”
Marley flipped on her phone and showed her aunt Brant’s picture.
“So in two months you fell in love with this good-looking—”
“No. I’m not in love with him. In fact, I feel ill at ease when I’m around him. Besides that, we’ve never even dated.”
“Then how did you get engaged?” She looked at Marley over the top of her glasses.
“It’s made up. Not real, not even this ring.” She fluttered her fingers, which sent a rainbow of lights around the room. “He’s hardly real,” Marley added in frustration.
“That part’s a lie. He’s real.” Effie wiped a spot of butter from the corner of her mouth. “Your mother was talking to him this morning.”
Marley’s jaw dropped. “She what?”
“Yes, he called, trying to contact you. Said he needed to talk to you about something very important.”
Leaning across the table, Marley gripped her aunt’s hands. “The guy’s loony. There’s nothing that could be important between us.”
“From what I gathered, your mom invited him to the wedding.”
Marley half stood. “No!”
“Sit, sit.” Effie gestured with a fluttering hand. “I don’t think he’s coming.”
Patting her heart, Marley said, “Maybe I should call him.” While her aunt busied herself with the roll, Marley picked up her phone. How could she reach him? How had he been able to call her mother?
Effie pointed at the phone. “You have one of those newfangled things that can do everything but drive a car?”
Marley nodded, still concerned about Brant’s call. Maybe she could phone the condo management and get his number. But why bother? Brant merely wanted to annoy her, and she couldn’t imagine him spending money on a plane ticket to do that.
Sidetracked by her thoughts, Marley was surprised when Effie asked, “Is there another problem besides this Brant?”
“Well, yes. Richard’s in the wedding.”
“Richard?”
“Denny’s brother, Richard. I told you about him. I met him in college and—”
“Wait a minute.” Effie picked another roll. “Denny’s brother, Richard, is your Richard? Didn’t that end a few centuries ago?”
Aunt Effie had been the only one in her family to know about Richard, the only one Marley could trust to keep her secret. “Yes, but I saw him again last night and he’s...” She paused and thought about how pleasant the morning had been. “He’s really nice, and he thinks I’m engaged. But I’m not, and I wish I weren’t. Oh, Effie, it’s such a rotten mess. How can I get out of this?”
“Let me get this straight. You got engaged, so no one would consider you an old maid. Now you want to go back to being an old maid so you can get engaged to Richard?”
“Well, no, not exactly. I just want to be free of this fake engagement so I’m available. I can’t have anything start with Richard if I’m tied down to Brant.”
Effie moved her hands so that the waitress could place her food in front of her. “You realize this wouldn’t even be a problem if you were anything like your parents. Either one would ignore the engagement, fake or not, and do what suits them at the time.”
Marley shuddered. “I broke it off with Richard because I thought he was like my father.” She gave the waitress a smile and moved her water, indicating she and Effie both needed a refill. “I’d like to give him another chance.”
“Then it’s obvious, Brant has to go. And since the whole thing is fake to begin with, problem solved.” Effie dipped a French fry in the gravy and waved it to emphasize her point.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WOULD SHE EVEN recognize the Emersons, Marley wondered as she scoured the people coming from the gate at the Pittsburgh airport. After Marley had returned her aunt to the house, Nora had sent her to pick up some distant relatives Marley hadn’t seen since the last wedding. She held up the sign she’d made with their name on it in bold black letters.
“Here we are! Here we are,” a woman shouted as she approached. She wore a brown fur wrap and a tiny pillbox hat—something from the Kennedy era, Marley guessed. “No need for a sign, dear. I’d recognize you anywhere. The hair.” Marley moved out of her way before the woman could touch it.
“Your bags?”
“Harold has them. Come, come now.” She beckoned to an elderly man dragging two carry-ons. “We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Marley?”
Marley turned to see who had called her name. A tall, handsome man approached, wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt and black pants and holding a jacket over his arm. For a moment she stared, unable to place the short dark hair, the fa
ce...the beardless face. “Brant?” She gulped. “What happened to your beard, your hair?”
“What happened to yours?” He grinned. “Looks like you went wild with a curling iron.”
“What are you doing here?” She took a panicked breath and hoped she wasn’t delusional. His being here was impossible, wasn’t it? However, he’d been in her thoughts so often, Marley was sure her subconscious had created him.
“Do you mind?” Mrs. Emerson said. Marley didn’t move, frozen in place by the surreal image in front of her. It was as though the poster had come to life. “I’d really like to get going.” Mrs. Emerson pushed between them and pulled on Marley’s arm. Beads of sweat had already formed on the older woman’s forehead as she directed everyone to the outer doors. Her fur piece was whipped off the moment they reached the humid air. A drizzling rain fell. Mrs. Emerson turned to Brant, who had followed the three of them as they left the terminal. “He coming with us?”
Brant nodded. “We’re engaged.”
Mrs. Emerson seemed startled but made no comment. And Marley was beyond words. What on earth would she do with him? She felt her chest constrict and momentarily thought she might be having a heart attack...hoped she was having one. At least that might eliminate the need to deal with Brant.
Brant turned to Mr. Emerson. “Can I help you with that?” Surprise crossed his face, and he brought his carry-ons over. Brant placed one of them on his own rolling luggage and carried the second as the four trooped over to Marley’s car.
Thank goodness Mrs. Emerson sat in front with Marley and did all the talking. There was no way Marley could have contributed to the conversation. Her brain was focused on the man in the backseat, and she kept glancing at Brant through the rearview mirror. Each time, he caught her eye and either smiled or winked, destroying her concentration. If only she hadn’t had to pick up the Emersons. She had a million questions for him. Why was he here? Who paid for his plane fare? Where was he staying?
Then again, maybe it was a good thing he had come. They could have an argument, break off the engagement and she’d be able to spend the rest of the time with Richard.
An Act of Love Page 6
