by Mary Campisi
“Got it.” And for the first time in months, the smile on her face was real.
“Good. Now, I got to tell you something about your husband.” She grinned and pulled out several sheets of paper from underneath the couch. “You know how you told us all about that Maid-for-You mixer of yours, and how thoughtful Sam was?” She shook her frizzy head. “Honey, these here papers spell out the reason he bought you that mixer and it all boils down to one simple word. S-E-X.”
Cyn stared at her, then at the papers. “What are you talking about?”
Tula Rae flapped the papers above her head. “Sex! And don’t think nothing else. Listen here and tell me if it don’t remind you of something.” She pulled the papers in front of her and squinted. “Stiff powerhead, extreme performance, deep drive.”
Derry laughed. Shea giggled. Cyn sputtered, “They’re talking about the mixer, that’s all.”
“Hold your horses, there’s more.” Tula Rae cleared her throat and went on, “Long lasting motor, soft start, tilt-up head.”
“Oooohhh,” Derry moaned, “I want one with the tilt-up head.”
“Length, 8 3/4 inches.”
“Wow.” Shea’s eyes widened.
“Depth- 12 1/2 inches.”
“Ouch!” Derry put a hand over her crotch.
“And there’s accessories to boot,” Tula Rae said, laughing. “Flat-cross beater, hook, wire whip, and can’t forget my personal favorite, the protective pouring shield.”
“Cyn, I didn’t know you were into whips,” Derry said, hiding a smile.
“I’m with Tula Rae on the protective pouring shield,” Shea said. “No drips, no fuss, no muss.”
A tiny giggle escaped Cyn’s lips. Then another, until it turned into full-blown laughter and the rest joined in, doubled up and howling.
“Flat-cross beater,” Derry croaked.
“How about a hook?” Shea squealed. “What are they hooking?”
“Guess,” Cyn gasped in between laughs.
“Now, you girls think this ain’t about sex?” Tula Rae asked. “Personally, along with the protective pouring shield, I like the soft start, deep drive.”
“Tula Rae!” Derry exclaimed, “We’ll never be able to look at a Maid-for-You mixer in the same way again.”
“Good.” She grinned at Cyn. “Now that man of yours don’t seem so dull, does he?”
“No, not at all,” Cyn said softly.
“The onliest question I’d be asking right now”—she pointed to Shea and Derry—“would be, how can I get my man to get me one of those.”
“Or two,” Derry said, her lips spreading into a Cheshire-cat grin. “They come in very cool colors, you know. Personally, I’d choose the Hot Tamale.”
“Strawberry Parfait,” Shea added when Tula Rae pointed to her.
“I think maybe Earl Gray’s getting me one for a wedding present,” Tula Rae whispered. “Now that’s sexy.”
“Do you really think men buy them for the subliminal sex messages?” Derry asked.
Tula Rae lifted her bony shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “It don’t matter. If we tell them it reminds us of sex, and then start reading some of what I just did, it’ll get their motors running faster than a porno book.”
“You think so?” Shea asked, clearly intrigued.
“Tula Rae knows men. Ain’t I had four husbands, soon to be five? Trust me on this one, if a woman tells her man a potato’s sexy, he’ll buy her a bushel just so she’ll get all gushy and lovey-dovey.”
“Okay, Dr. Ruth, we believe you,” Derry said.
“Now, back to business,” Tula Rae said, pointing at Derry. “There’s no need to go on and on about you, ’cause I think we all know that story.”
A slow smile spread over Derry’s face. “Thank you for everything, Tula Rae. Alec can’t wait to meet you tomorrow.”
“Same here.”
“Does he know about this wedding?”
“No, ma’am, but he’s getting here just in time to witness it. Just ya’ll and I invited two other guests. That’s it.”
“Now I wish I’d brought Charlie,” Derry said. “But I hated to pull him from school and Vivien loves keeping him.”
“I kind of wish I’d brought Kiki and Janie,” Cyn said. “They’d have loved to meet you.”
“Well, I just wish you’d told us something,” Shea groaned. “All I brought were jeans and sweaters. How’s that going to look at a wedding?”
“Just be careful somebody don’t mistake you for the bride,” Tula Rae said, “’cause that’s what I’m wearing.”
That made Shea laugh. “Then we’ll be your bridesmaids, all dressed in denim and wool.”
“Good enough.” Tula Rae winked at her. “Now, speaking of you, honey, I’m glad to hear you finally kicked that sorry ass husband of yours out.”
“He really thought I’d pay his child support for him.”
“Now just think, Tanya can teach Richard how to change diapers,” Derry said.
“They deserve each other,” Shea said.
Tula Rae laughed. “God’s revenge is always so much better than anything we humans can conjure up. And what about your kids? I hear they’re on their own so to speak?”
“You mean are they going to have to join the real world and work their way through school? No more summer vacations or lounging in coffee houses during the school year. And, they’ve got to pick more affordable schools and apply for student loans. Maybe even look into scholarships, which aren’t going to happen unless Georgetown gives them out for 2.2 GPA’s.”
Tula Rae sucked in a long breath, blew it out and said, “You’re finally thinking of Shea, ain’t you, girl?”
Shea nodded. “Finally.”
“Marcus been asking about you.”
“Oh. What did you tell him?”
“That you was coming to see me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “That’s what I thought.”
Tula Rae talked non-stop, packing sixty some years of lessons into sixty minutes. She advised them on life, love, settling for second best, and how to make a good turkey loaf. Finally, when her voice grew hoarse, they yawned their way upstairs.
Cyn closed her bedroom door and searched the room for her purse. She snatched it from the nightstand and fished out her cell phone, punching in Sam’s number. I’m coming home, Sam. I love you.
But no one answered and when the machine kicked in, she ended the call. For just a second, she thought of redialing but an awful possibility settled in her stomach.
***
Snow blanketed Ogunquit the morning of Tula Rae’s wedding. Derry paced the small kitchen, peeking out the window as chunks of snow clumped to the ground. “I knew his coming was a bad idea,” she groaned, rubbing her stomach. “Nobody travels to Maine in January unless it’s an emergency.”
“He’ll be fine, girl.” Tula Rae sliced another piece of pumpkin roll. “Ain’t gonna do you no good if you get yourself all worked up.”
“Let’s go check the computer,” Cyn offered. “Maybe we can see when he’s scheduled to land. Can you get me his flight information?”
“Damn.” Derry smacked her forehead. “I left it at home.”
“Okay, we’ll figure it out.”
“This pregnancy is frying my brains. By the time I deliver, I’ll be a babbling idiot.”
Shea laughed. “Welcome to motherhood.”
“Let’s not forget her man.” Tula Rae unwrapped another pumpkin roll. “I’d say he’s as much responsible for her scatterbrains as the baby.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, girl, you finally admitted he’s part of your breath. I know how it is to deny it so long you start believing it.” She paused and said softly, “And then when you almost lose it, you see the truth.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Uh, Derry,” Shea called from her perch at the back window, “I think you should come see this.”
“What? Anoth
er red-winged blackbird?” She laughed and made her way to Shea’s side.
“There?” Shea pointed. “Isn’t that Alec’s Volvo?”
Derry squinted. “It sure looks like it. What the—”
The front door opened just then and Alec’s deep voice reached her. “She’ll be madder than a hornet.”
“Alec Rohan, you devil you!” Derry flew down the hall and hurled herself at her husband so hard he fell back a step. She clutched his middle and swore softly, “Damn you.”
He laughed and pulled her closer. “Nice to see you too, baby.” Alec buried his face in her hair and murmured, “God, but I missed you.”
“You drove?” She eased away and looked up at him. “I was worried sick about you. Why’d you drive?”
He shrugged and started to say, “It just seemed like a good—” He stopped mid-sentence and jerked his head toward the door. “Call it playing the Good Samaritan.”
The door opened again and a man dressed in a black down jacket and stocking cap stepped inside. When he pulled off his stocking cap, Derry sputtered, “Oh, my God.”
“Hello, Cyn.” It was Sam.
Derry swung around to see Cyn standing in the doorway framing the kitchen. “Well, isn’t this just a surprise all the way around?”
“I tried to call you last night.” Cyn moved toward him slowly.
“I was on the road.”
“Where are the girls?”
He pointed to Alec. “Vivien was kind enough to offer to keep them until I got back.”
“Thank you, Alec.”
He laughed. “My mother always wanted girls. I guess now she’ll get a taste of it.”
Derry grabbed her husband’s hand and said, “Let’s go in the kitchen. I want you to meet Tula Rae, and you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Is that any way to greet a man who’s braved this weather to get to his wife?” He smiled down at her and pulled her into his arms. When his lips touched hers, Derry groaned.
“Later,” she whispered. “I think I’ll need a nap this afternoon and I think you should take one with me.”
“Sleep kind, or the other kind of nap?” he murmured against her ear.
She pressed her body against his and said softly, “There’s only one kind of nap with you, Alec Rohan.” They kissed again. As Derry led her husband to the kitchen, she called over her back, “Good to see you again, Sam. Vivien made another pot of chili for you. You can pick it up on your way home.”
“Thanks.”
“Alec’s mother is cooking for you?” Cyn asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
He shrugged. “She makes great chili.” He slid out of his coat and folded it over his left arm. Cyn caught the glint of gold from his wedding band as he smoothed his hair in place.
“I could’ve made you chili, if you’d asked me.”
“Cyn.” He reached out and touched the side of her face. “I didn’t travel five hundred miles to talk about chili.” His soft, gray eyes burrowed into her, stripping away months of defenses. “I came for you.”
Her heart skipped ten beats. “I’m glad.”
“I want to start again,” he began, trailing his fingers down her throat to her shoulder. “You’re in my heart, Cyn, and always will be. I’m not a poet or a smooth talker. I pick out appliances instead of jewelry.”
“I love my mixer.”
He laughed and shook his head. “It was a stupid idea. Just like the computer chair, and the foot spa. Women want things they can show off like diamonds”—he fingered the stud on her left ear— “or rubies. Or maybe even cars.”
“That’s not true, at least not for me.” She clasped his hand and brought it to her cheek. “I never felt more loved or wanted as I did when you handed me the Maid-for-You gift certificate.” She thought of Tula Rae’s words the night before and said, “Those mixers are very sexy, if you think about it. They’ve got extreme performance, deep drive, and power knead capabilities.” She ran a hand down his shirt to the edge of his belt. “Just like you. And then there’s the tilt-up head.” She licked her lips. “And 8 3/4 inches.”
“Stop,” he croaked. “You’re killing me.”
“I love my mixer. It reminds me of”—she paused, fiddled with the buckle of his belt—“sex.”
He grabbed her hand. “Stop. I can’t think when you talk like that.”
Maybe Tula Rae was right.
“I came to say some things and I need you to listen. I almost didn’t come. I struggled with what I could offer you. You’ve made more in four months than I’ll make in four years.”
“And I’m miserable.” There, she’d finally confessed. “I need more than just a paycheck and an expense account, Sam. I need you,” she finished softly, dipping her fingers inside the waistband of his jeans.
“All I can offer is what’s in here.” He pressed his fist to his chest and said, “More love than I’ve ever felt for any other woman.”
Cyn threw her arms around him and pressed her body to his. “I love you. I want to come home.”
He slowly eased his hands along her neck to her shoulders and then down her back as he kissed her long and full. “Come home, Cyn. Heal the ache deep inside me.”
“Always,” she murmured against his lips.
“In the good Lord’s name, woman, will you stop slobbering all over your husband long enough so I can meet Sammy boy?” Tula Rae stood, hands on hips, feet spread, intimating a growl. She burst into a rowdy laugh and opened her arms wide. “Sammy boy, good to finally meet you.”
Sam flung an arm around Cyn’s waist and grinned. “You, too, Tula Rae. Thank you for sending my wife back to me.”
She tipped her frizzy head at him and said, “De nada.”
They followed her into the kitchen where Derry sat on Alec’s lap sipping hot chocolate. Sam eased into a chair and Cyn climbed on his lap. He pulled her to him and she slung both hands around his neck.
“Looks like we won’t be the only ones taking a nap this afternoon,” Derry said, leaning against Alec’s chest.
“I need a nice long one,” Cyn murmured, nuzzling her husband’s ear.
Derry laughed. “Listen to that dirty talk.”
“What? No, I didn’t mean that.”
“Sure you did. It’s okay, Cyn. He’s your husband and you haven’t been together in, how long?”
“Too long,” Sam said, stroking Cyn’s arm.
“That’s going to be one long nap,” Alec said.
“Maybe we should just wake them in the spring,” Tula Rae said with a wink.
The back door opened and Earl Gray stepped inside, caked in snow. “Wake who in the spring?”
“Cyn and her man. You look like a black snowman. You meet Sam and Alec yet?”
“Sure did.” He nodded toward the men. “When I was out shoveling the front walk.” He slipped off his jacket and accepted the hot cup of tea Tula Rae handed him. “How’s my bride?”
She snorted and shook her head. “Two more hours. Still time to back out.”
“No way.”
Tula Rae grinned and handed him a piece of pumpkin bread. “We’re just waiting on one more guest, and the preacher, Max Welle.”
“Who’s the guest?” Shea asked.
“You’ll see soon enough.” Tula Rae gave her a sly look. “Come to think of it, I believe I heard a car door. Shea, why don’t you go let our guest in?”
“Sure.” Shea slipped off the chair and padded to the front door. She yanked it open and let out a small yelp. Marcus Orelean, tanned and handsome as ever, stood ten inches from her.
“Hello, Shea.”
She’d forgotten how his voice made her tingle. “What are you doing here?”
“I was invited to a wedding. Same as you, I imagine.”
“But she never said anything...”
“That’s Tula Rae for you.” He stomped his boots on the door mat. “May I come in? It’s brutal out here.”
Shea stepped aside to let him pass and caught a whi
ff of his cologne. Creed, she thought.
“How’ve you been, Shea?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” He had the fullest lips. Kissing lips.
Marcus pulled off his gloves and unzipped his leather jacket. “Good.”
Her gaze strayed to his long fingers and her belly tingled. God, what was wrong with her? Focus. “How’s Madeline?”
“She’s great. She still asks about you.”
Shea looked away. “Tell her I said hello.” She’d planned this meeting hundreds of times, and now she couldn’t get two complete sentences out of her mouth. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see her.”
“We’ll see. It’s hard on kids when people they start to care about pop in and out of their lives. It gets too confusing.”
“I never meant to—”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stared at her for several seconds, so long and hard she had to look away. Then he cleared his throat and took a step away from her. “You know, I picked up the phone a half dozen times, and then I decided a letter might be better.” He shrugged. “I even wrote two and put stamps on them. But I never sent them.”
Her head shot up. “Why?” His eyes were so blue, so incredibly mesmerizing.
“You made it clear there couldn’t be anything between us.” His lips pulled into a faint smile. “But you can’t deny the attraction.”
Her insides did somersaults when he smiled at her like that. “I couldn’t take another man’s rejection.”
“I shouldn’t have to pay for another man’s mistakes.”
She could stretch out right here and let that warm voice roll over her like a massage. “You’re right, you shouldn’t.” She forced herself to hold his gaze.
“Tula Rae said you’re divorced.”
“That’s right.” Did you ask her about me? Or did she offer?
“And you’re moving to Ogunquit.”
“I guess you and Tula Rae have been having quite a few conversations.”
“She doesn’t want to see me get hurt again,” he said, looking away.
“Again?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “Look, she prepared me for this. I knew you’d be here but I came anyway because this is important to her.”
“What do you mean, ‘anyway’?”
