Can't Hurry Love

by Melinda Curtis

  Drew nearly fell out of his folding chair. “He’s my age.”

  “Who cares?” Drew’s mom steadied him. “Honestly, you’re lucky he’s taken. Less competition for you. You can be such a stick in the mud, which is why Wendy is perfect for you.”

  Drew choked while trying to spit out a protest, struggling to come to terms with what his mother thought of him. No wonder she was the only one in the family to approve of him going out with Wendy.

  Kevin read from index cards. “You never hear bridesmaids complain about a dress they can wear more than one time. Kindergarten teacher Mary Margaret Sneed is wearing a dress that could go from Sunday service to brunch in Greeley to dinner at the Bar None.”

  Mary Margaret was as sweet as Wendy and smiled just the way a kindergarten teacher should. But she strutted down the runway like she’d been born in high heels.

  “Wow,” Kevin said into the microphone as Mary Margaret made her way back. “Look at the way she owns the runway. Let’s give her a round of applause.”

  Mary Margaret disappeared behind the stage curtain, and the next model appeared.

  “Here’s a familiar face. My wife, Barbara.” Kevin doted on his wife. And why wouldn’t he? His ambition and her drive had propelled him into office. It didn’t matter to him that Barbara thought of herself as the mayor too. “Barb’s wearing thigh-high rain boots and a polka-dot fire-engine-red raincoat.” Kevin’s voice turned playful. “Honey, if you’ve got nothing on underneath that, proceed directly to our house. Do not pass Go.”

  The crowd laughed.

  “Of course I have something under here.” Barbara undid the belt at her waist. “Read the cue card, honey.”

  “Right. Read.” Kevin chuckled. “And here it is. Barb’s got clothes on. Those are moisture-wicking alligator leggings and a white tank top, a perfect ensemble for unpredictable High Plains weather.”

  Barbara worked the runway, greeting constituents by name.

  “I always thought you dodged a bullet by not marrying Barbara.” His mother was on a roll tonight.

  “She never looked twice at me.” Drew glanced around to see whether Becky was somewhere near the stage passing out programs or bottles of water. A twinge of concern had him looking for his daughter elsewhere. “Besides, she probably doesn’t like sticks in the mud.”

  “Thank heavens.”

  “That’s right, ladies.” Kevin’s voice filled the gym. “You can mix polka dot and alligator. Multiple patterns are in. Let’s hear it for my wife, the mother of my child, the love of my life.” Kevin called for a round of applause for his wife. “Next up is Lola Williams. Lola’s wearing a blue pantsuit that flatters any body type. She can wear this outfit to work and on a dinner date.”

  Lola stepped out from behind the curtain, looking tame compared to her regular appearance and that of the models who’d gone before her. Her brown hair was held away from her face with a rhinestone clip. Her shoes were flat. Normal. Boring.

  Why hadn’t she worn something more like what Mary Margaret or Barbara had? Where were the heels? The big hair? The wide, I-got-you-Sheriff smile?

  Lola walked the aisle, blushing the entire time and staring above everyone’s heads, just as she’d done at the bachelorette auction. There was no smile. No dimple. The only thing she did differently than on auction night was wave a hand at the scarf tied around her neck. The flutter of her hand was continuous, hovering over…

  A ruby earring.

  She just couldn’t let this thing with Randy’s infidelity go. Drew fought the impulse to leap onto the runway as she passed and snatch the earring away.

  “And double thanks that you aren’t interested in that one,” his mother whispered. “She’s the kind of woman who’d go after a man with a gun.”

  “No. She’d go after a blow-up doll,” Drew muttered.

  “Next up is Priscilla Taylor-Barnes,” Kevin announced.

  “Priscilla Taylor,” Pris corrected, striking a pose next to the mayor.

  “Jeez, Mom.” Drew covered his eyes while Kevin described what his sister was wearing. “Where did you go wrong with her?”

  “I think she looks charming.” Drew’s mom blew a kiss at Pris as she walked by. “I think I’d look good in that dress too.”

  Drew groaned.

  His mother elbowed him. “Do you know how hard it is to find a man in Sunshine? The Taylor females have curves. You better learn how to deal with it before Becky gets hers.”

  Drew groaned again. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “And now here’s Wendy Adams.”

  “Smile, smile, smile,” his mom said, turning to look.

  Surprise rippled through the crowd like a strong breeze through a wheat field.

  Drew glanced up, and his jaw dropped.

  Even Kevin, who was never at a loss for words, hesitated.

  “That is not Wendy Adams.” Drew’s mom put a hand to her throat.

  Quiet, demure Wendy had a tortoise for a pet, could barely speak in Drew’s presence when they were alone, and was perfect as the last layer of defense against Jane.

  That wasn’t the Wendy on stage.

  “What happened to her?” Drew’s stomach turned, for real this time.

  This Wendy…She wore a long black dress, which would have been fine if the halter top hadn’t tied two inches above her navel and there hadn’t been a slit worthy of Angelina Jolie on her right side. She’d clipped her hair away from her face and applied the same kind of fairy makeup Lola had used on the kids at dress rehearsal.

  Kevin shuffled through his index cards. “I’m sorry. I was expecting Wendy to wear a different dress.”

  “Weren’t we all,” Drew’s mom murmured.

  “Ah, here it is.” Kevin sounded relieved. “Wendy is wearing the ideal dress to take on a cruise for a formal night.” Kevin glanced up at Wendy again, waving her toward the runway. “Or you could wear it anytime you want to make your ex jealous.”

  It was too warm. It was too loud. Drew’s head pounded.

  Wendy began her walk. It was obvious she wasn’t comfortable in high heels. It was equally clear she wasn’t comfortable with the height of the slit in her dress. She kept tugging it together.

  She was a hometown girl though. The crowd began applauding before she made it to the end of the runway.

  “Smile,” Drew’s mom said past a clenched jaw. “And don’t look for any wardrobe malfunctions.”

  How could he not? Every man and woman in the gym was looking to see whether she wore panties. Iggy stood at the top of the bleachers, clapping. Wendy had overtaken Lola as the talk of the town.

  After she passed, his mother sat back and glared at Drew. “You didn’t smile.”

  “She didn’t look at me.” Which was a blessing since he didn’t think he could’ve mustered a smile.

  “Maybe she didn’t look at you because you frowned like a stick in the mud.”

  Drew sat back, ready for the fashion show to end.

  “Our next model is Edith Archer.” Kevin turned toward the part in the curtains. “Edith is wearing a purple-passion plumed evening gown…”

  Becky stepped through the curtain. She wore a sparkly purple dress that fell onto her red cowboy boots. Feathers fluttered in her wake as she strutted forward.

  Someone shrieked behind the scenes.

  Edith stumbled on stage. She wore a black bikini and should have waxed.

  The audience went silent. Even the mayor was struck mute.

  “I dedicate this to my Charlie.” And then Edith began to dance down the runway, giving Becky a high five as she passed the other way.

  Instead of laughing, the crowd began to clap to the beat of the music.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Did someone give you that to wear?” Mary Margaret pointed to the ruby earring on Lola’s scarf.

  “No. I brought it from home.” Lola had dillydallied backstage, postponing a costume change as she circled the room like a guppy taunting a lurking shark.<
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  No one paid attention to her, what with Wendy and Edith being showstoppers. Sadly, no one smelled of Joy.

  But what could Lola do? Change and go mingle with the crowd?

  “Is that…” Mary Margaret leaned closer. She was tall. Earrings swung from her pierced ears. “Is that an earring?”

  “It is.” Lola removed the earring and held it in her palm. Why not? It couldn’t belong to Mary Margaret.

  “May I?” Mary Margaret’s fingers hovered over Lola’s palm.

  Lola raised her hand higher.

  The kindergarten teacher took the earring and stared at it for several silent seconds. “I think this was my great-aunt Bunny’s. She gave me a pair just like it, and I lost one. Where did you find it?”

  Lola’s body jolted as if she’d downed a large energy drink. “You…” She took a step back in case Mary Margaret turned out to be the possessive-aggressive type, like Avery. “You slept with Randy.”

  “Please.” Mary Margaret blanched. “Keep your voice down. That was a long time ago. Before you were married. My husband and I…We went through a rough patch and were separated.”

  Before you were married.

  Mary Margaret wouldn’t know whether Randy had loved Lola or not.

  “What’s all the hubbub?” Edith was still bikini-clad.

  “Grandma Edith, look.” Mary Margaret showed her the earring. “Isn’t this Great-Aunt Bunny’s earring?”

  Edith nodded, plucking the piece from Mary Margaret’s hand and snapping it onto her ear. “I told you it’d turn up someday.”

  “I used to wear those earrings because my father refused to let me pierce my ears.” Mary Margaret was calm, regal even; only the deepening color in her cheeks gave away she was upset. “Randy and I…It was one night and long before Randy met you. I…I needed someone to hold me, and Randy seemed to really care.”

  “He seemed to have cared about a lot of women,” Lola murmured.

  Mary Margaret winced.

  Mims hurried over, Bitsy and Clarice in her wake.

  “I just want to know if he loved me.” Lola couldn’t help but notice that her voice had the hoarse, hurt quality of her mother’s.

  Mary Margaret blinked. “I…I’m sorry. I can’t answer that.”

  “Of course not. And you did nothing wrong, Mary Margaret.” Mims took off her black silky jacket and put it around Edith’s shoulders.

  Several women, including Avery, slipped out the door. Only widows remained.

  “Where did you get this?” Mary Margaret asked softly. “It’s been missing since—”

  “He stole things from the women he slept with,” Lola blurted, still in that hoarse, hurt voice. “Are you missing a bracelet too?” That would be neat and tidy, and one less woman to wonder about.

  “No.” Mary Margaret turned on her heel and left, leaving Lola alone in the dressing room with the Widows Club board.

  “There are others, you say?” Edith stomped her foot. “Your husband was worse than—”

  “Shush.” Mims put her arm around Lola. “People are human and make mistakes.”

  Avery had lost her necklace in high school. Mary Margaret had lost her earring before Lola and Randy married. Lola might have hypothesized that all Randy’s liaisons had occurred before her marriage, if not for the nearly empty box of condoms.

  “Mistakes hurt.” Edith raised her face to the floor joists above them and cried, “Mims slept with my husband. I can’t keep it in any longer.” And then she began to cry in big, heaping sobs with a rain shower of tears.

  Mims stood as still as a tree trunk, not denying anything.

  Bitsy and Clarice cast disappointed glances at Mims and then gathered Edith between them and led her away.

  The sudden silence rang in Lola’s ears. All Edith’s talk about best friends and betrayals made sense. She had to ask Mims, “Did you sleep with my husband?”

  “No,” Mims snapped.

  “Hmm.” Lola began changing her clothes. “Did you sleep with Edith’s husband?”

  It took Mims longer to answer, and when she did, it was without snap. “No.”

  Lola wasn’t buying it. “Then why didn’t you tell Edith that?”

  “Because she wouldn’t believe me, just like you don’t believe me.” Mims sank onto a wooden folding chair. Her head was tucked tight to her shoulders, like a turtle hunkering down in its shell. “I’m too old and too tired to have an affair.”

  “But…” Lola sensed there was more coming.

  “But after Hamm died, Charlie would come over and hold me.” Mims wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “And when hunting season rolled around, we went hunting together, just like we did when Hamm was alive. And then came fishing. And…” She raised tear-filled eyes to Lola. “We did everything we used to.”

  Lola slipped into her boots, pausing to catch Mims’s eye. “There was no hanky-panky?”

  “What we had was platonic.” Mims struggled to sit tall, to regain some of her confidence. “We did nothing wrong.”

  “You don’t have to be physical for it to be cheating,” Lola said softly. “Charlie betrayed his wife emotionally. And you betrayed your friendship.”

  Mims shook her head. “Charlie gave me what I needed—the strength to keep going.” Her gaze turned pleading. “My children couldn’t give me that. They’ve all moved away. The Widows Club couldn’t give me that. No one but Charlie understood.”

  “I understand.” Lola tugged on her jacket. “I’m going through the same thing. The loneliness seems unbearable. It’s a deep hole in my chest that I can’t seem to fix.” The void had lessened after Drew kissed her but now she was hollow once more. “My chest aches so bad it keeps me awake at night. And I’ve been floundering, looking for the truth in the hopes it’ll make me feel better.”

  Lola shouldered her purse, clinging to the strap the way she clung to the hope that she’d find peace when she discovered the names of the women who’d seen her husband naked.

  * * *

  On Thursday after his shift, Drew’s mother met him at her front door. She had flour on her cheek and something on her mind. “Drew, you need to help your sister.”

  “Which one?” He’d had a long day at work and been out of the loop family-wise.

  In addition to his regular rounds and continued reports that Jane was in town, there’d been an illegal burn at the Handelman Ranch and a drunk riding his horse through town, and Gary had pulled Iggy over for speeding. Iggy had called Drew, complaining he’d been going five miles over the legal limit and urging Drew to fire Gary.

  Surprisingly, there’d been no calls or complaints on the Lola front.

  “Which sister?” Drew repeated.

  “Eileen. I’m talking about Eileen.” His mom cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure Becky wasn’t listening and then lowered her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that pig has made a ruin of her house?”

  “Eileen’s place was a wreck before Rosie got there.” Drew had meant to check on Eileen’s home after his initial cleaning but each day seemed to get away from him. Spring-thaw madness seemed like it’d never end. “Have you seen it lately?”

  His mom nodded. “You know Tom Bodine owns that house. He gave Eileen a steep discount because I said she was such a good tenant. I said she’d be no trouble at all.”

  Drew was too tired to cover common ground. He shifted his feet on the Victorian’s porch. “If you let me in, I can work on repairing everything.”

  His mom was a tough negotiator. She made the gimme gesture with her hand.

  Drew sighed. “And I can find someone to take Rosie if you’re worried Eileen wants to keep her.”

  His mother gave a full-body shake, like a dog coming in from a rainstorm. “If you’re suggesting the pig goes to Tom Bodine and his butcher shop, I’m going to slam this door in your face.”

  Drew reached for his most patient voice, the one that calmed hyperventilating moms when they parked in the fire lane when they were late f
or the Christmas pageant. “Tom has the largest working ranch in the valley. He’d have no problem—”

  “Eating Rosie,” his mom finished for him firmly. “No way. That pig is a sweetheart.”

  He agreed but the topic of conversation was Eileen and the condition of her rental. Drew closed his eyes. He and his mother approached problems from different angles. He always wanted to divest people of trouble. She and Eileen always wanted to redeem trouble. Heaven help him if they decided they wanted to redeem Lola.

  He opened his eyes and tried for clarity. “Are you asking me to help Eileen fix her house or to help the pig?”

  “Yes.” His mom frowned, meaning both. “Why do you have to ask?”

  The weight of the town and his family and Jane suddenly seemed too much. Drew didn’t have time to date Wendy, much less get close enough to her to ask her to marry him. He sagged against the doorframe. “All right. I’ll work on Eileen’s house. I’ll try and find someone to adopt Rosie. And I’ll talk to Eileen about…whatever is bothering her. Can I see my daughter now? I was going to take her to the park.” To meet Jane. God help him.

  His mother wasn’t done. She held to her blockade. “Becky said you wouldn’t let her wear her rain boots and tutu to school today.”

  “I need Becky to look more like her friend Mia.” Drew couldn’t keep the desperation from his voice.

  “But she’s not Mia. She’s Becky.” His mom was whispering now. “Don’t try to make her be like everyone else.”

  “At the expense of custody?” His throat threatened to close. “To Jane?”

  “Love and parenting is about finding the right balance.” His mother opened the door wider. “Think about it. You’ll do the right thing. You always do.”

  Rupert had said much the same to him at the courthouse. It didn’t make Drew feel any better about wanting things that didn’t align with the “right thing,” like being with Lola or letting his daughter express herself through unique clothing choices.

  “Becky,” Drew called out, “grab your things. We’re going to the park before dinner.”

  “Dad, Daddy, Papa, Padre.” His daughter lumbered out of the kitchen like a sleepy elephant. Her mouth was ringed with chocolate. “We made cookies. I think I ate too many.” She groaned.