Speak Now

by Chautona Havig

  The assistant’s brief dismissive attitude vanished and an air of helpfulness replaced it. A three hundred dollar purse was a far cry from a thousand dollar dress, but at least the woman’s time hadn’t been fully wasted. “I love this bag. I have a sneaking suspicion my paycheck is going to be significantly reduced this month. I keep starting to set it aside for myself, and then I convince myself not to. I just don’t know how long I’ll manage.”

  Cara glanced around to make sure no one would overhear. “I saw one almost exactly like it at the leather store in the mall. It was half the price and came in several colors. I’d planned to go back for it, but I like this color best.”

  “Red? I’ve been dying—”

  Cara’s grin was huge. “They had red, black, white—”

  “Oh, wouldn’t it be gorgeous in white!”

  Minutes later, Cara hurried back into the store with an envelope in her hand. She passed it to the fashion assistant and left before the woman opened it. Inside she’d placed a newspaper clipping—a coupon for twenty-five percent off of any one item at Leather-Tunity.

  ~*~*~*~

  “So, my mom is working on the dress as we speak.”

  “How do you know?”

  Cara listened to Riley’s excited voice and forced herself not to picture them talking about Riley’s formals in years to come. “Because my daddy called me a few minutes ago and told me to tell your daddy that he owes my daddy a very good dinner. I think my daddy got frozen pizza. Again.”

  Girlish giggles warmed Cara’s heart as she listened to Riley relay the message to her father. “Daddy says that he’ll have something sent over tomorrow night, so don’t let your mom cook.”

  “Tell Daddy to wait until Monday night. Mom probably already has a roast in the crock-pot. Your daddy is a very thoughtful man; isn’t he?”

  “I’ll do that and thank you.”

  “Jonathan! You interrupted a private conversation!” As much as she tried to make her tone sound indignant, Cara couldn’t hide her delight. Talking to Jonathan had become the highlight of her evening.

  “Riley was finished. She has a very short attention span for phone calls. It’s one reason the Rockland family is so possessive of her when she comes. In person, as you well know, she’s highly talkative and entertaining.”

  “Just like her father.” As his deep chuckle washed over her, Cara sighed. “Oh, I miss your laugh.”

  “I was thinking…”

  “Hmm?” Cara sorted clothes as she listened.

  “The first weekend in August, Gramby is going to be here—in her apartment. Her kids are all going on a cruise, thinking it might make her give the water a chance but, of course, she won’t touch it. I asked if she’d be willing to do some extra childcare that weekend if you’d come. She said yes.”

  “You want me to come to Atlanta?”

  “I’ve got miles upon air miles to spend, Cara. You say yes and I’ll have you reserved by morning.”

  “Atlanta, huh?”

  “We could go to a Braves game…”

  “Would you buy me peanuts and Cracker Jacks?”

  “Don’t tempt me. Will you come?” She could not mistake the earnestness in his tone.

  “Of course. You knew I would.”

  “I hoped.”

  She laughed as she filled the washing machine with towels. “No, you knew.”

  “So, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Jonathan asked in a glaringly obvious attempt to change the subject.

  “Storyland.”

  “I think the kids are a little young for that.”

  “They may be, but I’m not. I haven’t been since college, and I want to go. I also want to go to the water park.”

  Laughter floated across the miles at the speed of light. “So much for my nice, quiet dinner idea.”

  “We can have one of those too… come in on Friday and we can do dinner Friday night.”

  Jonathan interrupted. “I hear Riley—nightmare. Got to go. Sorry.”

  “Hug her for me.”

  “I’ll get her to hug me for you too,” he murmured before disconnecting.

  Cara smiled at the mental picture of him cradling her in his arms until she slept peacefully again—maybe singing a song that would change the directions of her dreams.

  A glance at the stairs reminded her of Carly’s latest recommendation. “If you want to control your weight, you’ve got stairs, use them,” she’d insisted.

  Disgusted at the realization that she would get hot and sweaty, Cara changed into her cut-off sweats and a t-shirt. With the fit of her new gown, she’d need all the help she could get—that and the best shaping garments on the market. She wanted that dress to hide her flaws, accentuate her best features, and somehow do it without being indecent. A tough order, but her mother’s design genius just might pull it off.

  Just as she thought her leg wouldn’t lift again, the phone rang. Panting, she grabbed it and dropped onto the floor. She refused to risk sweat soaking into the cushions. The carpet could be cleaned—again—much more easily. “Hello? Whoever you are, how come you didn’t tell me to put in hardwood when I bought this house?”

  “I’ll have someone there on Monday.”

  “Oh! Jonathan! I didn’t know you’d call back. How’s Riley?” she gasped as she used the back of her hand to wipe huge beads of perspiration from her forehead.

  “What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.”

  She hesitated, embarrassed to admit her desire to tone her body as much as possible before the ball. Each time she shopped for clothing, the lack of suitably fitting garments in her size range reminded her how much curvier she was than the average woman of her height. “I was just working out.” The nonchalance she’d tried to insert sounded stilted, even to her ears.

  “Working out?”

  “You know—exercise…”

  Silence grew from expected to awkward. Desperate to remove it, Cara forced a light air into her voice and quipped, “Permission to speak freely.”

  “Okay, are you sure?”

  His hesitance made her relax. He’d be gentle—no matter what he said. “Of course, Jonathan. You know I care what you think.”

  “When was the last time you worked out?”

  “Um—” she’d expected almost anything but that question. “I—”

  “Why are you working out now of all times?”

  “There’s this ball coming up, and my mom picked fabric that will cling—”

  “Sounds wonderful to me.” The deep chuckle, accentuated by his attempt to stifle it, soothed her uncertain feelings.

  “Oh, Jonathan, I just want to look my best,” she sighed in frustration.

  “Cara mia, do you have any idea how absolutely stunning I think you are?” He paused and Cara waited for him to finish, knowing instinctively that he wasn’t finished speaking. “I—”

  “You can say whatever you need to say, Jonathan. I can take it.”

  “I just don’t know if it’s appropriate—”

  Her heart melted. Now, she couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say. “Please tell me. What you think really matters to me.”

  “I told you once just how perfectly I thought you were shaped. Do you really want me to go into detail?” He paused again and Cara waited—albeit a bit impatiently—for him to continue. “Let’s just say that no amount of toning your body would make me appreciate it any more than I do now.” She heard him swallow hard before he added, “In fact, I’d be a bit disappointed.”

  “Really?”

  “Besides,” he added with a smile in his voice and ignoring the question, “you love your mother too much to put her through taking in a dress at the last minute.”

  “I don’t think you understand the nature of this fabric. We’re talking about the kind of cling you get from swimsuit fabric. You’ve never seen what that kind of thing does—”

  “But I can’t wait to see it. Tell me it’s just a nice tube that barely covers—”


  “Oh, hush!”

  A peace hovered between them across the miles. In time, the silence grew uncomfortable for her until Cara finally asked the question on her heart. “What would you say if I told you that I am a good ten to fifteen pounds overweight?”

  “I’d say that you’re proof that the charts put you a good ten to fifteen pounds underweight.”

  She giggled, much to her own mortification. “You met my mom—every woman on her side of the family gains exactly like my mom does. If I’m not careful, in twenty years—”

  “I’ll find you just as sexy as I’m sure your father sees your mother.”

  “Oh, gross.”

  Jonathan’s laughter sent him choking on his water. “Are you telling me that you don’t think your father is attracted to your mother?”

  “Unfortunately, I know all too well exactly how attracted he is—”

  “Mine is ten times stronger than you’ve ever seen from him, I guarantee it.”

  Curiously, she asked the obvious. “How?”

  She heard him take a deep breath before he spoke words they’d only danced around in their conversations. “Because, if you and I gave in to exactly how we feel, the world wouldn’t see more than a hint of it, even if we gave the most vulgar display of public affection ever shown.” Without another word, the line went dead.

  Seconds later, Cara remembered to exhale. “Oh, man, he’s right. Thinking about Mom and Dad—that is just so—so—oh, that is just so gross!” With a sigh, she whispered in reluctant admission, “And wonderful. It sounds just wonderful.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After the third stab with a pin, Cara picked up her phone and texted Jonathan quickly. MY HEART BLEEDS FOR YOU. AND MY ARM. AND MY WAIST. OUCH!

  Seconds later, a reply came, making her smile. AM I WORTH IT?

  She passed the phone to her mother and grinned. “How could you not fall in love with that?”

  “I don’t think we’ll ever know, Cara.” With a wink, Diane stood back to view her work and saw a slight ripple across the abdomen. “Oops, I didn’t get that pinned correctly. Here, let me just—” This time, the pin jabbed her breast.

  “AAAK! Mom!”

  Anxious to prevent a blood stain, Diane jerked off the bodice and left Cara standing half-naked in the middle of the sewing room.

  “Mom!”

  “Do you want to get blood on it? Go stop the bleeding. We’ve got to get this pinned correctly. The ball is next week!”

  Covering her chest, in a semblance of modesty, Cara hurried to the bathroom and applied a tiny piece of toilet paper to the ooze of blood forming. The cellphone in her hand tempted her once more. Another text whizzed through the cell towers to Atlanta. OUCH! I’M NOT SURE ANY MORE!

  She nearly choked as the reply zipped back. WANT ME TO KISS IT BETTER?

  “Oh, Mom! Look!” Cara passed the phone through the door, snickering.

  “Cara!”

  “He doesn’t know what he just offered!”

  As she stepped from the bathroom, the blood now cleaned away and ready to try on the dress again, Diane’s worried eyes met hers from across the room. “Is it such a good idea to go to Atlanta, Cara?”

  “I’m not going to throw away a lifetime commitment to purity for anyone—not even the one man who could probably convince me to do it.”

  “If he could convince you, then how can you say you won’t?” Cara’s mother slipped the dress over her daughter’s head and zipped up the side.

  “Because he’d never let that happen. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to kiss him before we’re married, much less anything else.”

  A knowing look crossed Diane’s face. “But you want to—I’d recognize that look anywhere.” She stood back and stared at her daughter in a dress that’d tempt any man to matrimony. “I need you to go find me shoes. I can’t hem that thing without them.”

  “High or low heels?”

  Diane looked at the dress critically. “It really does call for a higher heel I think. Silver, maybe. It’ll put you closer to his height too.”

  Cara chewed her lip doubtfully. “He likes my height though.”

  “And he loved you in those three inch ones you wear with your black sheath. Closer in height makes dancing easier. Go with some heels, but get comfortable ones. In that dress, he’s going to want to spend a lot of time on the floor.”

  Another text message sent her into a fit of giggles as she dressed. I DON’T MIND. HONEST. LET ME KISS IT BETTER

  Quickly, she zipped back an answer and then tossed her phone in her purse. This was one message she wasn’t sharing with her mother. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST OFFERED. OFF TO BUY SHOES. FLATS OR HEELS?

  Outside Carly’s house, she flipped open her phone while she waited. Jonathan’s reply made her grin. WILL I GET TO SEE THEM? IF NOT, WHO CARES?

  She punched in a message while Carly dragged her dogs back inside the house. WELL, ONLY WHEN I SIT AND IF I HIKE UP MY SKIRT A LITTLE.

  As Carly climbed into the car, Cara dialed her mom’s number. “Remember that funky iridescent tube fabric that stretches from like super extra small to Aunt Flynne size?”

  “Oh, Cara, that’s not nice.”

  “Do you still have it?” She grimaced as Carly exited the car to indulge in fits of giggles where Diane couldn’t hear.

  “I have it, why?”

  “Will it hurt anything to cut off, say,” Cara calculated carefully. “Twenty-four inches?” At her mother’s hesitation, she added, “Even forty-eight would work.”

  “Forty-eight would be better, why?”

  “I want to play a joke on Jonathan.”

  “Cara?” Diane’s voice left the impression she was less than amused.

  “Yes, Mother dear?”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Off for shoes.”

  ~*~*~*~

  “They’re perfect, Cara!”

  “They’re clear! They look like those cheap jellies kids used to wear.”

  “They look like Cinderella’s glass slipper,” Carly protested. “They fit like a dream, and you said yourself that clear gel insole will save you from misery. Look at the crystals!”

  “Look at the price tag! Two hundred dollars for shoes I hate?”

  “You love them, you just think you shouldn’t!” Carly gave them an apprising eye. “You’ll need a good pedicure that day.”

  “I can’t, Jonathan and I have plans.”

  “You’ll get the pedicure.” Without waiting for more opposition, Carly ran her fingers over the tops of the shoe. “Feel the crystals.”

  “They’re just rhinestones!”

  “Those are Swarovski crystals, for heaven’s sake, they feel wonderful on your feet, and we won’t talk about how great your legs look, so just buy them already.”

  The magic words did the trick. “You think my legs look okay?”

  “Your legs always look great in that style. It’s like someone saw them and said, ‘We have to create a shoe to showcase those legs’ so they made these. Now buy them and let’s get out of here.”

  Cara glanced up and saw a sales clerk adjusting a disheveled display. Their eyes met and the man nodded. Flushing, she stood. “Fine. I’ll get them.” Her phone buzzed. “Tell Jonathan I have shoes.”

  While Cara paid for her shoes, Carly answered the phone. “Hi, Jonathan! This is Carly. She just bought shoes and oh, my word, you’re going to flip, I promise.”

  “That good?”

  “Do you have a pacemaker?”

  Jonathan chuckled, helping Carly see just exactly what sent Cara’s heart racing. “Should I order one?”

  “Yes, you should. She didn’t want to get them, but I made her.”

  “I think I like you.”

  “You do. Trust me, here’s Cara”

  “So, what did Carly tell you? The expression on her face makes me a bit nervous.” Cara didn’t sound nearly as nervous as she implied.

  “She told me not to be too disappointed in you
r shoe choice.”

  Cara glanced around, looking for Carly, and spied her across the aisle looking at screen-printed sweatshirts in colors and styles that the woman wouldn’t buy for her grandmother, much less herself. “Well, since I’m relatively alone for a moment, I have to admit, Friday seems years away.”

  “I’ll be waiting in the parking lot when you get off work.”

  “Drat!”

  Her words both hurt and surprised him. He’d expected something a little more eager. “Well, if you’re busy…”

  “I was hoping you were going to say at lunch time.”

  “I think I’ll wear a purple polka dotted tie just for that. You made my heart stop.”

  “I thought I did that every time we go out.”

  “Oh, she’s in a flirting mood—” the delight in Jonathan’s voice spurred her on again.

  “Just practicing for Friday…”

  A piercing scream ripped through the phone. “Got to go.” The phone clicked.

  She whirled and met Carly’s eyes from across the aisle. Seeing the panic-stricken look on Cara’s face, the woman practically vaulted a table of knit camisoles to get to her friend. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. I heard Riley scream and then Jonathan just hung up!”

  “He didn’t say anything?”

  Shaking her head, Cara stared at her phone and then paused. “Wait, he did. He said—”

  Carly’s fingers snapped twice in Cara’s face. “Come on, think. What did he say?”

  “Got to go.”

  “That’s it. Call him back!”

  Terrified, she shook her head. “He won’t answer. I want to go home.”

  After one more look at her friend, Carly grabbed Cara’s purse and dug for her keys. Cara didn’t even notice. Carly opened the passenger door, closed it again, and hurried to the driver’s seat. One look at Cara’s white face sent Carly in the opposite direction of Cara’s townhome. She was ready to make her case for spending the afternoon with Diane, but Cara never noticed.

  At the Laas home, Cara turned to Carly and winced. “I should be praying, huh?”

  “Go inside and pray with your mama. There’s not a woman in this world with a bigger in with Jesus. She’ll fix it up.”