Ain't Misbehaving (9781455523801)

by Cannon, Molly

  She did a half turn toward the door and flashed a smile for the reporter who was busy snapping photos. With disgust Marla Jean noticed that Genna had somehow found time to freshen her bright pink lipstick and fluff up her blonde hairdo before making an appearance at the hospital. Meanwhile she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror earlier and knew her own curly hair stood out at odd angles from her head and the black smears of mascara under her eyes were the only bits of makeup left on her face. Perfect for her pending mug shot.

  Genna, finding an interested audience, launched into storytelling mode. “Marla Jean was driving like a crazy person, starting and stopping then rolling backward for no good reason. I could tell something was wrong. And sure enough not two minutes down the road she drove off into that ditch. I saw it all and called 911.” She sounded like she expected a medal.

  “Excuse me.” A deep bass voice cut through the buzz of conversation that filled the room. “Pardon me. Can I get through here?” Judge “Pinkie” Pinkerton pushed his way through the crowd at the door. The judge was a short man of florid complexion who favored pink suspenders and tall women. Besides presiding over the municipal court he performed civil marriages when there was a need. “I was told this was Libby Comstock’s room.” Spotting her in bed he made his way to her side. “There you are, Libby. I got your message. Now what’s this about calling off the wedding? Are you injured? Do we need to postpone?”

  Sheriff Watson cleared his throat. “I think we need to clear out and let these people have their privacy. Come on, everyone, let’s go.”

  The sheriff started herding everyone out of the room, including a protesting Ellie.

  “Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Libby,” her sister called out as he nudged her out the door.

  The door closed on the chattering group, leaving Marla Jean stranded in the room with the judge, her ex, and his emotional wreck of an intended.

  Libby sniffled. “Judge Pinkerton, I hate to do this at the last minute. I know how much work has gone into the arrangements, but I can’t go through with the ceremony. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Judge. She’s just shaken up from the accident, and she’s got a case of the pre-wedding jitters. That’s all. We still want you to perform the honors tomorrow just the way we planned.”

  “I’m not marrying you, Bradley.” Libby sounded stubborn now.

  “Libby, please.” Bradley sounded pitiful.

  Judge Pinkerton spoke up. “Now Bradley, why don’t we listen to what Libby has to say?”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m listening, honey.”

  They were talking quietly now, and Marla Jean could hear Libby explaining things to Bradley and the judge. But it was still the absolute last place on earth she wanted to be. She used the blanket like a shawl, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and tried to stand. The room swam around her, and when her stomach lurched in a dangerous way she sat back down. Before she could try again, the door swung open and Jake came striding back into the room. Marla Jean caught her breath at the sight of him. He seemed so intent, so purposeful, and he headed straight for her.

  He smiled and asked with a wink, “You wanna get out of here?”

  “Are you offering to spring me?” She launched herself from the bed, hoping not to fall, but he caught her, lifted her into his arms, and started for the door. She laughed and then winced when it made her head hurt. She closed her eyes and hung on to Jake for dear life.

  Before they could get out the door Bradley stopped them. “What’s going on, Jake?”

  She opened her eyes in time to see Jake glare at Bradley. “Marla Jean doesn’t need to be stuck in here while the two of you work out your problems,” he said.

  Bradley had the decency to look embarrassed. “You’re right. Marla Jean, Libby told me some of what happened. She said she wasn’t in any condition to drive and you tried to help. I appreciate it.”

  Libby sat up in her bed, her lip trembling. “I’m awfully sorry, Marla Jean. This whole thing was my fault.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Marla Jean said. “And don’t start crying again. Please. Just marry the man and put him out of his misery. Not that you care, but you both have my blessing. I’ll even walk Bradley down the aisle and give him away to you personally if it helps, Libby.” The room was spinning again, so she laid her head on his shoulder. “Can we go now, Jake?”

  He shifted her in his arms so he could grab the door handle. “We’re already gone.”

  Sheriff Watson stood right outside the room, but thankfully the rest of the crowd seemed to have disappeared. The sheriff told Jake his mom had gone to find coffee. If he thought it was odd for Jake to be lugging her around like a sack of potatoes he didn’t mention it, but he blocked their path as they came out the door. “I need to have a quick word with Marla Jean.”

  Jake immediately objected. “Can’t it wait, Sheriff? Marla Jean needs to lie down.”

  “Hold onto your britches, son. This will only take a minute. I’m closing the book on this one, Marla Jean. I checked with Mike, and he said you weren’t drinking. Libby’s account backs up your story as well. As for the damage to the Bookmobile, I’ll leave that up to the insurance companies since no one else was involved.”

  “So that’s it?” She sagged with relief.

  “That’s it. Take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll try, Sheriff. Come see me next time you need your ears lowered.”

  “You bet, but stay out of trouble until then.” With a little wave the lawman sauntered off toward the elevators.

  “It’s about time someone around here showed with some sense,” Jake snorted. He headed toward the small waiting room at the end of the hall. “Let me get you situated, and then I’ll go find a nurse. And by the way, I called Linc. Your family should be here soon.” The worry in his voice washed over her like a soothing balm.

  She wasn’t able to resist wrapping herself in his quiet strength. “Thank you, Jake.”

  “You’re welcome.” The words were a whisper against her hair. He put her down on the sofa in the waiting room at the end of the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

  She reached out a hand to stop him. “Sit with me for a minute, please?”

  He sat down beside her so she could lean against his shoulder.

  “Do you know why Libby wasn’t going to marry Bradley? It was so silly. It was because he wouldn’t give me the money he owes me for the house. Can you imagine?”

  “Maybe that’s reason enough. Maybe it shows he’s not the kind of man she thought he was.”

  “Except the only reason he wouldn’t give me the money right now was because he wanted to lavish her with this ridiculously overpriced wedding so everyone in town would see how much he loves her. I’ll get my money eventually, but he’s putting his new life with your aunt first. For Bradley, that’s actually a step in the right direction.” She felt woozy, and closed her eyes.

  In a quiet voice he said, “I would have loaned you the down payment money for the house. Hell, I would have given it to you.”

  “Thanks, Jake, but I don’t want any special favors. It’s time for me to stand on my own for a change.”

  He picked up her hand and held it gently, “Marla Jean, maybe we should talk about what happened at the barber shop.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at his suggestion. She’d wondered when they would have this conversation. The one where he said it had been a big mistake. The one where he said it wouldn’t happen again. The one where he said he was so, so sorry.

  And she didn’t want to hear any of it.

  Especially his apology. Not now. Not while her head hurt so badly she wanted to bawl. Not tonight of all nights. She was too bruised and battered, and that conversation demanded she be operating at full strength.

  So she stopped him, cut him off before he could start.

  “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to talk about.” Her voice sounded thin as morning mist when
she needed to sound breezy and assured. She took a half breath and pushed on. “No strings. No worries. Remember? That’s what I promised, and I meant it. And everything’s working out perfectly for me. I’m thrilled with my new apartment. And my new life in Derbyville is about to begin.”

  Before he could respond the elevator doors opened, and her entire family poured out, surrounding her with cries of comfort and concern.

  “Jake called us and told us what happened. Linc’s been beside himself since you disappeared from Lu Lu’s,” Dinah said fretfully.

  Linc leaned down and gave her a hug and then punched her softly in the arm. “You all right, sis?”

  “I’m fine, Linc. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  Her dad squatted at her feet. “How’s my baby girl?”

  “I’m okay, really, Dad.”

  Jake stood up and offered his place on the sofa to her mother so she could fuss over her properly. “Why in the world are you out here in the hallway? Where is that doctor? I’m going to have a word or two to say when I get a hold of him.”

  “What in tarnation are you doing out of your room, young lady?” Nurse Bloomfield came storming into the waiting room and advanced on the group with a frown on her face. “I came up from emergency to check on you, and this is what I find? You’re out here having a party instead of resting?”

  “My room was a little too crowded,” Marla Jean said meekly.

  “Humph. We’ll see about that.” She gave everyone a disgusted once over and marched off toward the nurses’ station.

  Half an hour later, Marla Jean was installed in her own private room, happily leaving Libby and Bradley to hash out their marital future alone. Linc had taken Dinah home. Bitsy was crocheting in the chair next to her, and Milton was napping on the extra bed.

  Jake stuck his head in the door. “Looks like you’re settled in for the night.”

  “Gosh, I hope so. Don’t you want to ask me what year it is or if I can name the President of the United States?”

  “And give you a chance to show off? Not a chance. I’m going to make sure my mother gets home, and since it looks like everyone’s in good hands now, I guess I’ll call it a night, too.”

  “I’m in the best hands possible.” Marla Jean smiled over at her mother, who reached out to pat her on the knee. “But thanks for everything, Jake. I was ready to jump out a window when you showed up.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.” He shuffled his feet like he had more on his mind but finally just said, “Well, good night then.”

  “Good night, Jake. Hey, what’s the word on the wedding?”

  He looked as if he didn’t know if he was delivering good news or bad. “It’s back on.”

  Marla Jean nodded. “Well, you better get on home then and get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Looks like it. I’ll check on you tomorrow then?”

  “We’ll see. Weddings tend to be crazy chaotic, so if not tomorrow, we’ll talk soon.”

  His eyes met hers and held. “Count on it. Good night, everyone.”

  Marla Jean watched the door shut behind him. “Good night, Jake,” she said, though it felt more like good-bye.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  As it turned out, Marla Jean didn’t give Bradley away, after all. She’d gotten a nice note from Libby thanking her for all her help, but Marla Jean decided the happy couple deserved the gift of her absence from the wedding festivities. But that didn’t mean she didn’t hear every juicy detail. Hoot and Dooley had plenty to say, and every customer who came in to the barber shop couldn’t wait to add their two cents describing the extravaganza.

  And she hadn’t spoken to Jake the next day, either. She heard all about how handsome he looked in his suit. Hoot seemed to think she’d be particularly interested. She heard how Libby cried through the entire ceremony. Now there was a surprise. And how Bradley wrote his own vows and delivered them without missing a beat. She heard the wedding cake was pumpkin, courtesy of Cal’s giant pumpkin, and it was shaped like the Bookmobile with little marzipan books scattered all around. And everyone that came in to the shop had to give Dooley a hard time. It seems he drank too much punch, and when he danced the jitterbug with his wife, he fell down and took half a dozen couples with him, knocking them over like bowling pins. Hoot wouldn’t let him hear the end of that for a good long while. She heard Genna Stanley caught the bouquet, and Donny Joe caught the garter. And she heard the two of them danced together until the wee hours of the night. There probably weren’t many details that some kind soul didn’t see fit to share with her. And that was all right. She’d also heard through the grapevine that Bradley and Libby had returned safely from their honeymoon in Russia, and they appeared blissfully happy.

  Good for them.

  The Everson Daily ran a small story about the accident that destroyed the Bookmobile, complete with pictures of photogenic Genna alongside images of crying Libby and of Marla Jean sticking her nose out from under a hospital bed sheet long enough to glare at the camera. Genna hinted to anyone who would listen that she’d heroically saved Libby from being kidnapped before the wedding and strings had been pulled to get the charges dropped. Marla Jean didn’t have the energy to bother disputing it. Her friends knew the truth, and they were the only ones who mattered.

  She’d settled into her apartment in Derbyville, although a few boxes still remained unpacked. Despite the yellow paint, the place was a little cold and sterile, but between teaching art classes and working she didn’t spend much time there, so what did it matter?

  The barber shop still took up her days, though she’d worked out a schedule that had Milton working some half days and gave her some flexibility in her work week. Having her dad back at the shop had turned out to be a real blessing.

  Because she was teaching evening art classes at the community college she had a legitimate excuse for not eating dinner at her parents’ house every night of the week. Bitsy worried about her being alone, but the truth was, for the first time in her life, she allowed herself that choice. Choosing to be alone felt powerful and luxurious and a little bit decadent.

  Teaching had proven to be an unexpected pleasure. She hadn’t been certain that loving to paint would translate into loving to teach it. But when she was working with someone who shared her passion, she felt herself blooming, opening up in ways she never could have predicted. All in all, she was content with her life.

  And it wasn’t as if she sat home alone all the time. She’d gone on a couple of dates. A fellow teacher from the college took her to dinner one night after class, and she’d had coffee a few times with her next-door neighbor. Both were nice guys, but it was painfully clear that neither of them was Jake.

  When she was alone, she’d allow herself to think about Jake, relive the night she’d spent in his arms, and wonder if she’d ever feel that way about any other man. She still saw him in town occasionally, and somehow managed a friendly façade that hid anything deeper. They even had lunch together once in a while, but he usually seemed preoccupied and distant. Nothing was ever again mentioned about the night at the barber shop. Not a word. Not since he’d broached the subject at the hospital and she’d cut him off like the coward she was. It was as if it never happened. That should have made it easier to accept that Jake was a closed chapter, but it didn’t. If she was smart she wouldn’t dwell on the one night she’d had with him, and she certainly wouldn’t dream of what might have been. But then, whoever said she was smart?

  One day Theo stopped by the barber shop right at closing time. Said he was on his way out of town to start his Alaska adventure, and wanted to say his good-byes. Instead of his usual carefree manner, he took her hand and with an earnest expression asked if she’d do him a favor while he was gone.

  “Of course, Theo. Just name it.” She studied his face, so like his brother’s, and realized how much she’d come to value Theo’s friendship in the short time she’d known him. If she was going to miss having him around, s
he could only imagine how hard it would be for Jake.

  As if he read her mind he said, “It’s about Jake. This may sound strange, but if you could promise to maybe watch out for him while I’m gone.”

  “Me? I don’t know—”

  “Listen, Marla Jean, my brother is big on taking care of everyone else and their grandma, too, but when it comes to admitting he could actually use a little help himself on occasion, he’s got those big thick walls built up, and from what I can see, you are the only person he lets wiggle inside sometimes.”

  “I think you misunderstood, Theo. We’ve known each other a long time, that’s all.”

  “Whatever. He’s different with you. Better. More easy-going. So just promise you’ll check up on him once in a while. Okay?”

  She’d opened her mouth and said the right words. “I promise, Theo.” He’d hugged her, said he’d send her a postcard and with a jingle-jangle of the overhead bells disappeared out the shop door.

  But she hadn’t done it. She hadn’t watched out for Jake. He would’ve laughed at the very idea. And she couldn’t quite admit how dangerous the suggestion was to her peace of mind.

  But one night while she was having dinner at her parents’ house, her mother mentioned over peach cobbler that Jake had sold his folks’ old house to a young couple with two small children. A boy and a girl, and a boxer that barked all night long, her father added.

  Finally, after all these years and all the work he’d put into it with Theo, he’d sold the house. It felt like some kind of cord to the past had been permanently severed. His childhood home sold to strangers. No more off chance of running into Jake in the old neighborhood. No more glancing up to see his old truck parked across the street, two houses down.