Tall Tales and Wedding Veils

by Jane Graves

  She looked at him pointedly. “Rona and the lottery?”

  “Okay,” he muttered. “So some of them aren’t exactly rocket scientists. So what? I like beautiful women.”

  “Here’s a thought. You might want to look above the neck for a switch. Find a woman who can add two and two together and come up with something that’s at least close to four.”

  “You mean, like your average CPA?”

  Heather raised her chin. “You could do a hell of a lot worse. And from what I’ve seen, you frequently do.”

  “The women I date are no concern of yours.”

  “Look, Tony. You and I both know that if I were some gorgeous but airheaded bimbo you’d married, you wouldn’t be so pissed off that everyone found out. All the girls would be jealous, and all the guys would be backslapping you. But because it’s me—”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Admit it. Being married to me embarrasses you.”

  Tony opened his mouth to refute that, but he opened it a second too late.

  “So I’m right,” Heather said, making a scoffing noise. “Do you have any clue how shallow that makes you?”

  Tony wished he could deny the whole thing. But when he’d been standing there next to her, with her mother going on and on about what a cute couple they were . . .

  Heather was right. It had embarrassed him. He’d hated the way everyone had looked at him in that confused, confounded way that said, You could have had any woman in the world, and you picked her?

  He heard a knock on the office door, and Jamie poked her head inside. “Heather? Your mom’s in the bathroom.”

  “Yeah?”

  “She’s looking a little queasy.”

  Tony turned to Heather. “I thought you said your mother doesn’t drink.”

  “She doesn’t very often.” She turned back to Jamie. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Jamie nodded and left the office.

  “If she doesn’t drink, why did she have three Cosmos?” Tony asked.

  “Do you honestly not know?”

  He frowned. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “It’s her stamp of approval for what you do, particularly in front of Aunt Bev.”

  “Stamp of approval?”

  “Don’t you get it? If you’d bought a sex-toy shop, she’d be praising the virtues of vibrators and glow-in-the-dark condoms.”

  “Huh?”

  Heather waved her hand. “Oh, never mind. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Just get her to stop gushing to everyone about how wonderful I am and what a big success I’m going to be, will you?”

  “There’s something wrong with that, too?”

  “She was actually talking about me and Donald Trump in the same breath.”

  “Let me get this straight. Her saying nice things about you embarrasses you?”

  “She doesn’t even know me!”

  “She doesn’t have to know you. You’re family.”

  “Family? I’m not family!”

  “She thinks you are. And do you know why? Because you kissed me in front of them all and told them I was the love of your life!”

  And Tony was regretting that more with every passing moment.

  “I’m sorry my mother embarrassed you,” Heather said, even though it was clear she wasn’t sorry at all. “But no matter what you think of her, she likes you. That’s why she goes on and on. And I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of all the people here and screwed up your reputation.”

  “I never said that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “That’s right. The ones you’re thinking and not saying. But you know what? Just between you and me, your reputation could use a little screwing up.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t say I’m looking forward to spending the next month with an overgrown frat boy, but spending a month with me might actually do you some good.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeah. You might actually start to see a woman as something more than collections of body parts. It’s not likely that you will, of course. But miracles do happen.”

  Heather yanked open the door and left his office, and he felt the heat of her anger trailing in her wake. She thought he was shallow? Fine. But it was his life to live the way he wanted to. He liked things easy and mindless and feel-good, with nobody telling him what to do. But for the next month, somebody else was scripting his life, and that made him uncomfortable like nothing else.

  So she thought she was good for him, did she? Wrong. She was an anally retentive number-cruncher who had a family that gave the word intrusive an entirely new meaning. It would take months of excavation just to uncover her sense of humor, if it existed at all, and she had a superiority complex as vast as the plains of West Texas.

  Tony sat fuming in his office for several minutes, and by the time he came out, Heather had collected her mother and they’d left, taking Bev with them. He slid onto a barstool and asked Lisa for a Coke, dreading the rest of the evening when he should have been looking forward to it. Not only did his employees now know he was a married man, but they would spread the news to the regular customers, too, until the whole damned world knew. And there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it.

  Heather drove toward her parents’ house with her mother in the passenger seat. She looked a little woozy after her bathroom episode, leaning her elbow on the console and resting her chin in her hand.

  “I guess those Cosmos are a little more powerful than they taste, huh?”

  “Yeah, Mom. A little bit.”

  “Was I just awful? I bet Tony thinks I’m just awful.”

  “Of course not,” Heather said. “He likes people to have a good time. That’s why he bought a bar.”

  “Bev wasn’t having a good time at all.” In spite of everything, Barbara managed a shaky smile. “Too bad about that, huh? But when I asked her if she wanted to go, she couldn’t very well say no without looking like a bad sport.” After a moment, though, her smile faded into a look of concern. “Heather?”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “This is a good thing for you, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know how suspicious your father is. He says it’s not like you to do something this impulsive. He’s worried.”

  “Dad was a cop. He’s suspicious about everything.”

  “I know. He can’t even walk into a convenience store without thinking there are hostages tied up in the back.” She looked at Heather with an anxious frown. “Tony is the right man for you, isn’t he?”

  Oh, boy. What was she supposed to say to that? Yeah, he’s perfect. How do I know? After nine glasses of champagne, my judgment always becomes crystal clear.

  “There are never any guarantees, Mom. Even when people date for a long time.” She smiled. “I guess time will tell, won’t it?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  About a month’s worth of time, and it’ll tell more than you can possibly imagine.

  “You’ve always been a smart girl, Heather. If you say this marriage is a good thing, it’s a good thing.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m just going to rest my eyes a little now, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  As her mother’s eyes drifted closed, Heather wondered if there was any way this situation could get any more complicated. She had hoped to become a single woman again with only a few people knowing she’d ever been married, but after what had happened tonight, that number would be increasing with every passing hour.

  But she knew that as much as it bothered her, it bothered Tony more.

  At the time, it had been very satisfying to tell him exactly how she felt about his taste in women, but now she wished she hadn’t pushed him quite so hard. Because now the plain, glaring truth had been spelled out for her. Tony, along with everyone at that bar, thought she wasn’t good enough for a guy like him.

  She wished she could say she didn’t care. Intellec
tually, she didn’t. But still there was that little emotional tug, the one that told her she was somehow lacking because she wasn’t pretty enough to be seen with a man as handsome as Tony. But the truth was that while Tony was nice to look at, that was where Heather’s interest in him ended. He was the kind of man with nothing on his mind but seven hundred cable channels, cold beer, and naked women. When it came to having the qualities she wanted in a man, he didn’t even come close.

  As happy hour progressed, Tony’s prediction came to pass. Word spread fast, and soon he was getting as many congratulations for his marriage as he was for buying the bar.

  Just before seven o’clock, he saw a couple guys come through the door who usually showed up on the same nights Tony did for the purpose of doing three things: drinking hard, watching sports, and chasing women. Tracy was heading to their table, which meant that any moment now, they’d know everything.

  Sure enough, barely thirty seconds passed before Andy turned and yelled at him. “Hey, Tony! Come here!”

  Tony sighed with resignation and walked over, pasting a big smile on his face. “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”

  They both stood up and shook his hand, congratulating him on being the new owner, then tossed out all kinds of smart-ass suggestions, like telling Tony he should have a free beer night, or a Jell-O wrestling event, or maybe even a no T-shirt contest.

  After the questionable hilarity wound down, Kyle turned to Tony. “Tracy just told us something, and we want to know if it’s true.”

  Tony sighed inwardly. “What’s that?”

  “She said . . .” Kyle stopped, laughing a little. “Okay, I know you’re not going to believe this, but she said that over the weekend, you got married.”

  Tony hated this. Hated it. It was as if he’d hopped on a freight train in Vegas that picked up more steam with every moment that passed, and there was no way off.

  “Yeah. I got married.”

  Andy blinked in disbelief. “You did not.”

  “Yes,” Tony said. “I did.”

  “So who did you marry? I don’t remember any woman you dated more than a few times.”

  “You don’t know her.”

  Andy shook his head. “What happened, dude? You buy a bar, which means you get your alcohol cheap, and you’re surrounded by women every night. And you go and get married? That’s crazy!”

  “The same woman every night?” Kyle said. “I thought you liked variety.”

  Tony could barely get the words out of his mouth. “Variety is overrated.”

  Kyle turned to Andy with a look of disbelief. “Did he actually say that?”

  “I think he did. Hell must have frozen over.” Then Andy gave Tony a sly smile. “So . . . when do we get to meet the little woman?”

  “Someday soon, I’m sure. You guys drink up. I have something I need to take care of in the kitchen.”

  As Tony walked away, Andy and Kyle were still muttering with disbelief. Tony didn’t blame them. He was experiencing a little disbelief of his own. Somehow he’d ended up having to deal with a surly wife, a drunk mother-in-law, an intrusive family, and the confused stares of people who wondered how he could be playing the field one day and married the next.

  He repeated his mantra, one he was sure to wear out before he became a single man again: One month. Just one month, and it’ll all be over with.

  Chapter 10

  It was almost six o’clock the next evening when Tony got out of his car and hurried into his apartment. He’d been praying all the way home that Barbara and Fred would show up on time, give them the ugly silver candlesticks or whatever, and then leave.

  He saw Heather’s car out front, which meant she was already there. He’d left the bar so late last night that by the time he got home, she had gone to bed, and by the time he got up this morning, she’d already left for work. That gave him hope that after this visit from her parents, they would go their separate ways until Regina’s wedding and their annulment, and his life could get back to normal. He unlocked his door, went into his apartment, and stopped short.

  What the hell had happened in here?

  It was as if a gigantic wind had blown through and swept away every bit of clutter. The hearth was clear. He could see the top of the dining room table. A few magazines were precisely fanned out on the coffee table, making his living room look like the waiting room of a doctor’s office.

  He looked down at the floor. So that was the color of the carpet?

  The walls even looked whiter, but maybe that was just because there was nothing piled in front of them. And hanging in the air like swamp gas was the smell of bleach and ammonia and all those other products that belonged only in hospitals and public bathrooms. Tony hated the smell of disinfectant the way other people hated the smell of rotting corpses.

  “Heather!”

  He heard some shuffling in the kitchen, and Heather poked her head around the doorway. Her hair was pulled up to the crown of her head in one of those scrunchy things, but a few strands had pulled free and fell along her cheeks. She wore a pair of pink rubber gloves and a stubborn expression.

  “I’m just about finished,” she said. “I still have to scrub the sink.”

  She ducked back around the doorway. Tony strode into the kitchen, blinded by the light reflecting brightly off every surface.

  “What have you done?”

  “So it’s true. You really don’t know clean when you see it.”

  The pantry door was open, and Tony peered inside. Boxes and cans were lined up according to height, like little soldiers all in a row—unhappy little soldiers who were never allowed any R and R.

  “My God, what happened in here?” he said.

  “Well, mostly I threw stuff out.”

  He whipped around. “You threw out my stuff?”

  “Only if it was moldy. But don’t panic. Your Twinkies are still there.”

  He yanked open the refrigerator. “My God. There’s nothing left!”

  “Sure there is. Fruit. Produce. Good food. Fresh food.” She gave the sink a final rinse, then pulled off the gloves. “Isn’t that nice for a switch?”

  “Where did all this come from?”

  “I stopped at the grocery store this afternoon on my way home. I took off a few hours early.” She gazed around with a weary sigh. “I probably should have taken off a few more. After dropping by my parents’ house to get more of my things, I didn’t have much time left.”

  “I don’t suppose you got the gift when you were there,” Tony said.

  “No. My mother wanted to give it to both of us in person.”

  “So we’re still on for tonight.”

  “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  Great.

  Then he had a horrifying thought. “You didn’t mess with the stuff in the other room, did you?”

  “Only the ugly stuff. And if it was clearly trash, I threw it out.”

  “What about the boxes that were in there? The magazines?”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Will you calm down? The girls are alive and well.”

  “Do not mess with my swimsuit editions,” he said, pointing at her. “They’re collector’s items.”

  “They’re in a box in the closet. Along with Hot Rod magazines that are five years old and a pair of softball trophies.” She shook her head. “You actually played on a softball team sponsored by Luigi’s Little Bit O’ Italy?”

  “Hey, we beat the team from Mr. Wong’s Dry Cleaners to win the championship that year. Those guys are tough.”

  “Grown men playing softball. God.”

  “You need to stop moving my stuff.”

  “Sure. Next time I’ll dust around the socks on top of the TV.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Tony asked.

  “Because clean is nice,” she said. “And because if my mother had seen me living in your apartment the way it was, she’d have had a heart attack.”

  Her mother. Of course. He should have guessed that. “Can�
�t you just clean the part that shows?”

  “No. My mother’s a real snoop. If she tells you she’s just going to the bathroom, she’s lying.” Heather brushed her hands together and swept her gaze around the apartment. “There,” she said with a smile of satisfaction. “Shipshape.”

  Shipshape. God, how Tony hated the sound of that word.

  All at once there was a knock at the door.

  “They’re here,” Heather said, yanking the scrunchy thing out of her hair. “Can you at least try to smile? You’re really very good at it. Just do what comes naturally.”

  “There’s nothing natural about my in-laws showing up.”

  With a roll of her eyes, Heather opened the door. Barbara flitted into the apartment, and Fred trudged in behind her. Heather proceeded to do the huggy-kissy thing with her mother. And now that Tony was caught in that sphere, Barbara did the huggy-kissy thing with him, too.

  Fortunately, Fred was neither huggy nor kissy. He just stood there holding a large, flat package wrapped in exactly the kind of paper Tony had dreaded. Shiny silver with wedding bells and flowers.

  I’m never getting married. Not for real. Never, never, never.

  Heather escorted her parents to the sofa, then sat down on the love seat next to Tony.

  “Oh, my!” Barbara said, her gaze traveling around the apartment. “Fred! Will you look at this? Tony keeps things so nice and neat! This is just amazing. I mean, it’s so rare these days to find a young man who knows how to keep house.”

  “Why, thank you, Barbara,” Tony said. “Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I can’t keep things shipshape, right?”

  Heather gave him a subtle knock-it-off-smart-ass look, which he ignored.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Heather asked her parents.

  “Your mother had more than enough to drink last night,” Fred muttered. “If she shows up again,” he said to Tony, “give her ginger ale.”

  Barbara stuck her nose in the air. “I’ll drink what I want to, when I want to, Fred Montgomery. And you don’t have a thing to say about it.”

  “Fine. Find somebody else to take you to get your car the next morning.”

  Barbara turned to Tony. “Don’t mind Fred. His arthritis is acting up. It always makes him crabby. I had a lovely time last night. The appetizers were just a little too spicy for me, that’s all.” She waved her hands at the package. “Go ahead, you two. Open it!”