The Lawson Boys: Marty

by Angela Verdenius

“No. Not yet.” Marty watched a taxi winding its way through the evening traffic. “I wanted to give her some time.”

  “Oh? That’s not like you,” Mr Lawson observed. “You know what you want and you go for it.”

  “Belle’s not a billion dollar deal, a mansion, a car. A pretty date.”

  “She’s special.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Reaching out, Marty rubbed at a smudge on the window, succeeding only in making it worse. Giving up, he shoved his hand back into his pocket. “Remember that party I took her to the last time she came here, the one at the Havens?”

  “She looked beautiful.”

  “She was mortified that she didn’t know the proper way to dance. Hell, like I could care, we had fun.”

  “You were both laughing.” There was a smile in his father’s voice. “Reminded me of your mother and me when we were young and attending our first high society party. We stumbled around like a couple of crazy buffoons, gave up, went outside and made love in the gardens instead.’

  Marty winced. “Yeah, thanks Dad. Didn’t actually need that last bit, you know?”

  “Sorry. I forgot parents don’t have sex.” Mr Lawson paused. “So I won’t mention last night. Or this morning.”

  “Not cool, Dad.” A reluctant grin twitched at Marty’s lips.

  “Sorry.” Mr Lawson laughed before sobering. “About Belle?”

  “Belle.” Marty looked at the lights in the offices across the road. A cleaner was already at work, his cart of cleaning supplies visible. “After the party we ended up at Cindy and Tim’s place, and the girls were talking while Tim and I played pool in the games room.”

  “Tim whipped your arse at pool, huh?”

  “Man’s a cheat. He should have told me that he was the champion of his university pool club when he was there studying to be a vet.” Marty grinned, but it faded just as fast. “Belle and Cindy were talking, and when we left Belle seemed okay, but she was quiet. I thought she was just tired, you know? But since then…” When his father said nothing, Marty sighed and turned to face him. “It was only a couple of weeks ago, but now when I talk to her on the phone and when I went to see her last weekend, she was vague about her plans for her holidays. Some nights I ring her and I only get her voice mail. It’s a couple of hours before she rings me back. It never used to be like that.”

  Mr Lawson studied him seriously. “You’re worried that she’s drifting away.”

  Marty clenched his jaw in an effort to swallow the sudden lump of fear in his throat. “Yeah.”

  Getting out of the chair, his father crossed the room to him and placed his hand on Marty’s shoulder. “I think you should ask Cindy what she talked about with Belle.”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “It wasn’t about the long hours or trips I do that bothered Belle, it was the social side.”

  “The dinners and the parties?”

  “Yes.’

  “Its part of our networking, son.”

  “I know.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Marty shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m scared I’m losing her because she doesn’t want to be a part of the social scene, and I can live with her not going to parties and things as long as she’s in my life.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “I tried. Holly was there and Belle was starting to get uneasy and shooting her these glances and so Holly kept changing the subject, and - hell, Dad, I didn’t really know what to do!” Unable to stay still any longer, Marty paced the room while shoving his hand agitatedly through his hair. “I didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to have an argument that might make Belle decide that…that…”

  “You’re not worth it?” Mr Lawson filled in the gap.

  “Yeah.” Stopping in the middle of the room, Marty’s shoulders slumped. “I love her so much, Dad. I love her so much and I’m scared I’m going to lose her.”

  “So like I said, you can shift to her town and do business from there.”

  Marty looked at him. “What if she doesn’t love me back, Dad? What if she’s realising it?” That bloody lump swelled in his throat. “What if I’m losing her?”

  Moving close, Mr Lawson laid his hand again on Marty’s shoulder. “Marty, you’re a man worthy of love. Once you give it to someone, it’s for life.”

  “I’ve given it to Belle.” His voice was husky. “I just don’t know if it’s enough.”

  “Maybe you’re underestimating her. Belle is a special girl, she’s not stupid.” Mr Lawson gazed seriously into his eyes. “I think you need to talk to her, Marty. I mean talk to her, tell her everything.”

  “Spill my guts.”

  “All over the floor if you need to.”

  “Never had to before.” Marty’s smile was tight. “Didn’t know how hard it would be.”

  “To tell someone you love them and want them forever?”

  “To hear them say no.”

  “Son.” His father’s eyes were gentle. “You asked Belle to trust you. Maybe you need to learn the same thing.”

  “I do trust her. I’m just scared. Yeah, I’m scared.”

  “Love has a way of twisting us up in knots. Women think it’s just them but little do they know.” Mr Lawson shook his head. “I had to get your mother knocked up before she’d marry me.”

  “Dad! Jesus!”

  “Hey, she wanted to wait another year. I wanted a ring on her finger and her in my bed before that other idiot chasing her got to her first.”

  “You want me to knock Belle up?”

  “Your mother would kill you.”

  “Don’t see why, after all-”

  “You ever tell her I let that secret slip and you’re history.” Mr Lawson poked him in the chest. “Son or not, I’ll make your life a misery.”

  “Blackmail works both ways.”

  “That’s nothing compared to your mother finding out. Blackmail or not, she’ll have both our hides then.”

  Marty grinned.

  “God, I love that woman.” Mr Lawson smiled.

  “You’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Mr Lawson looked soberly at Marty. “I’d fight for her. But one thing I learned early on in our marriage was that we had to talk, to be honest no matter how worried I was at the outcome.”

  Marty was silent a moment before he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get it.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “There’s the Maiton dinner tomorrow night.” Marty crossed to his desk and picked up his phone. “I won’t be there.”

  “Good plan.”

  Marty phoned the flight booking centre but all the early flights were booked out. The only one he managed to get was the last seat on the afternoon four o’clock flight. It would have to do. Replacing the phone on the cradle, he turned to his father. “Don’t tell anyone, not Mum, not Cindy. Please. I don’t want to risk Belle knowing I’m coming.”

  “They wouldn’t tell if you asked them, but nevertheless my lips are sealed.” Mr Lawson hugged Marty and gave his hair a fatherly ruffle. “You know where I am if you need anything. And I mean anything, all right?”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Alone in the office once more, Marty stared out at the now dark horizon. By this time tomorrow night he’d be at Belle’s place, and this time he didn’t intend to leave without knowing for once and for all if she was going to share his life forever. He couldn’t bear the uncertainty of what was happening, her vague answers, the thought of the woman he loved slipping through his fingers.

  Catching sight of his reflection in the window, he saw how pale he looked, his hair rumpled, his tie askew. Christ, he looked like a man watching his life slipping away.

  What the hell…? No way! No way was he going to stand by and let her say no and just run back home like a whipped dog.

  No freakin’ way, that wasn’t Marty Lawson, the sh
ark of the business world. The man who’d had countless women chasing him. No way. Marty Lawson had always known what he’d wanted and he’d gone after it come hell or high water. He’d enjoyed the chase as much as the capture.

  Shoulders straightening with renewed vigour and determination, Marty swung away from the window and strode across the floor of the office. Belle Broune was his and nothing on this earth was going to stop him claiming her. They were meant to be together and he’d do whatever it took to bind her to him. To bind them together.

  It was time to find a jewellers and make it legal. Hell yes.

  Marty Lawson was back.

  ~*~

  Belle’s house was locked up and the lights were off. The garage was locked. She wasn’t answering her phone.

  Belle wasn’t home.

  Standing in the driveway with his suitcase at his feet, Marty was bewildered. What the hell was going on? What the hell…?

  He dialled her mobile phone again. Pick up pick up pick up! No, straight to voice mail. He texted. Again. Nothing. Again.

  Frustrated, he punched in Holly’s phone number. When she answered, he meant to ask calmly “Where’s Belle?” Instead, he almost yelled, “What the hell, Holly? Where is she? Is she with someone else? Has Belle dumped me? What the hell, Holly? Someone talk to me!”

  “Wow,” replied Holly. “This must be Marty.”

  “Goddamn it, yes!”

  “And Belle isn’t with you?’

  Oh Jesus, it was as he feared. “She’s not with you?”

  “Why would she be?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” The invisible hand clutching his heart squeezed tight. When she didn’t reply, he gripped the phone tighter. “Holly, what’s going on? Is she dumping me?”

  “Whoa.” Holly spoke slowly and carefully. “Let me get this straight, she’s not with you?”

  “I told you that!”

  “So where is she?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “She’s not at the party?”

  “Party?”

  “Yeah. Party.”

  “What party?”

  “The fancy dinner.”

  “What fancy dinner?”

  “Marty, where are you exactly?”

  “Outside Belle’s house. It’s all locked up and she’s not home. Holly, you better bloody tell me who she’s gone to dinner with! You tell me right now and-”

  “You.”

  That stopped his tirade in its tracks. “What?”

  “You. She’s supposed to be at the fancy dinner with you.”

  “I’m not at a fancy dinner.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” Holly sounded puzzled.

  Closing his eyes, Marty took a deep breath. “Belle told you she was going to a dinner with me?”

  “In the city.”

  “But she’s not coming to the city.”

  “Oh yeah, she was. Is. She wanted to surprise you.”

  Marty’s mind went blank. “Surprise me?”

  “Look, you better get your fine arse over to my place and I’ll explain.”

  “No. You explain everything to me now.”

  “Fine. But I have food and drink.”

  “With all due respect, Holly, I don’t give a flying fig. Now what about Belle?”

  “Your loss. The food and drink, I mean.”

  “Holly,” he growled.

  “Settle, petal. Now listen, remember when Belle went to that dance and she couldn’t, well, dance?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, she was embarrassed that she’d embarrassed you-”

  “She didn’t embarrass me. We had fun.”

  “Sure you had fun, but she wanted to be able to dance like all those other fancy ladies with their men. Make you proud. Understand?”

  “I’m already proud of her.’

  “Cripes, stay with me on this, Marty. Listen.”

  Reining in his impatience, Marty nodded. Then he remembered that Holly couldn’t see him, so he grunted.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Holly said dryly. “So anyway, she wanted to be the kind of woman you need by your side at these fancy business things you go to.”

  “She doesn’t have to do anything-”

  “Last chance, Lawson. You listen and stop interrupting or I’m hanging up.”

  “I know where you live.”

  “I have my boyfriend here with me.”

  “What, I’m supposed to be afraid? I don’t care.”

  “Tick tock, the clock’s ticking.”

  “Okay.” Taking several calming breaths, Marty sat down on the veranda step. “Okay, I’m sitting. I’m sorry. I just…go on, Holly. I’m listening.”

  “Good. Now, she spoke to your sister about all these things you go to in the name of business and pleasure, found out a little about the dinners and dancing and things. Then she enrolled in dancing classes, and she actually went to Mrs Mixen and had her teach her the art of fine dining.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Marty said.

  “Nor me. The town’s old tart knowing fine dining etiquette? Go figure.”

  “No, I meant I don’t believe she thought all that was important to me.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Holly said. “It was important to her that she knew what to do when she stood beside you at these fancy events.”

  “I’ve never been ashamed of her, Holly. I only want her to be happy.”

  “Marty.” Holly’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “It makes her happy when you’re happy. It makes her happy to do this for you. It makes her happy to know what to do when she stands beside you.”

  When she stands beside you. Those last five words seeped through Marty’s mind. His erratically beating heart slowed down a little, steadied. She’d been learning all this stuff so that when she stood beside him, she’d know what to do.

  Now it all made sense. “All this time she wasn’t answering her phone, she was at dancing lessons and learning the dining stuff?”

  “You got it,” Holly agreed.

  “And she was vague about her holidays because she was planning on coming to the city and surprising me.”

  “Yep.”

  “How did she get an invite to the dinner?”

  “Cindy wangled it. You officially needed a partner, so instead of taking your cousin as you mentioned, Cindy had the invite changed to Belle.”

  “So she’s at the dinner. Tonight.” A thought struck Marty and he slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Oh shit!”

  “Yeah.”

  “The dinner. The party. Tonight?”

  “That’d be the one.”

  “At the Maiton’s?”

  “Dead on.”

  “Where I’m supposed to be right now.” Marty slumped against the veranda post. “Oh shit. Oh hell. Oh, so not cool.”

  “Sure you don’t want to come around now for that drink?” Holly asked sympathetically.

  Marty dragged his hand down his face. “Thanks, but no.”

  After a few seconds silence, Holly spoke again. “So what are you going to do? You’re welcome to crash here at my place. Or the Brounes wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll head back to the airport and catch a flight back to the city. Thanks so much, Holly.”

  “Hey, no worries. You take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I will. Thanks.” Marty hung up and phoned the flight booking centre. This time he had to wait for the nine am flight, so he phoned a taxi to take him to the local motel for the night. While he waited for the taxi to arrive he rang Cindy’s number. There was no answer. Figured. He tried Tim’s with the same response. Next, he tried his father’s mobile.

  Mr Lawson answered immediately. “We have a situation, son.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Belle’s here, you’re there, I’m confused.”

  Marty couldn’t help but give a tired laugh. “I’m reading you.”

  “Glad someone is.”

 
“Hey, Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I talk to Belle?”

  “Sure. Hang on.”

  There was the sound of a party in the background, a murmur of voices, and then Belle’s voice came over the phone. Immediately he relaxed as her warm tones, tinged with amusement, sounded so welcomingly in his ear. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  “Looks like we surprised each other.”

  “Great minds think alike?”

  “More possibly it’s that we shouldn’t keep secrets.”

  “Nah. Where’s the fun in that?” He leaned back against the veranda post. “I talked to Holly.”

  “Ah.”

  “Belle…” What could he say? That he didn’t need her to do this? That it had been unnecessary because he only wanted her to be happy? If he did that, it would make her feel as though she’d failed, as though she’d wasted her time. In one way it was the truth, it hadn’t been important to him, but at the same time her thoughts had been of him, of his importance to her. She’d done it for him and for that fact alone it was important to him that she knew how much it meant to him. Not the stupid dancing and dining, but her actions, her thoughts.

  “Marty?” Belle hesitated uncertainly. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I was coming. I should have-”

  His heart swelled. “Belle, I love you.”

  “Really?” She was relieved. “I’m glad you’re not upset.”

  “No, I mean I love you.” He looked up at the stars pricking lights into the darkness of space. “I love you, Belle Broune. I want you to marry me. I want you to be by my side forever. I want you to dine and dance with me, cuddle my dog, settle your cat into my house, laugh with me, fill my rooms with your books, be there to welcome me home, to listen to me, to tell me about your day and share everything with me. I want you home with me.” When all she did was breath a little jerkily into the phone, he stated softly, “I want to be a part of your life, Belle. I want you and me to be us. I love you, Belle. Marry me. Please.”

  “Really?” Belle’s voice wobbled.

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, too, Marty.”

  “I know.” She gave a burst of laughter even as he slapped his forehead. “Damn,” he said. “Ego trip.”

  “Big one.” Her voice grew lower, huskier. “I really do love you, Marty. I realised that awhile ago, I just wasn’t sure that I could fit into your world.”