Risking Ruin

by Mae Wood

  “Yes. I’m sorry to be so caught up that I haven’t been in touch more, but we had to part ways with the general manager of the dollhouse furniture division and we’ve been scrambling to get a new team in place. It’s been exhausting. I’m tired and the last thing I want to talk about is how little girls only play with virtual dollhouses on iPads anymore. Sales are just in the gutter and I’m really not sure how to turn this business around. Anyway, so here I am talking with you about my miserable week when I really want to say that I miss you. Can I lure you out for a drink?”

  “That would be the easiest sale you’d ever make,” said Marisa, laughing. “I’d love to, but I’m out at my parents’ house in Collierville tonight, being the good daughter. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got a ride with the guys tomorrow morning. It’s just thirty miles, so I should be done by lunch. Can we meet up?”

  “That’s actually what I called to talk with you about. You presence has been requested at my parents’ house for lunch.”

  “Oh, that’s big,” replied Trip after a pause.

  “Yeah, and there is more. Erica, you know my best friend, the artist, well, she has invited you to come over for dinner at her house tomorrow. When it rains, it pours, I guess.”

  “Nah, it won’t be bad. It’s just going to be like ripping off a Band-Aid. I’ll just meet everyone in one day and get their blessings.”

  “So, you’re coming? It’s a big ask.”

  “Well, I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  Marisa shook her head and smiled into the phone. “No, once you meet my mom and Erica you will realize just how true that statement is.”

  “Okay, now I need you to do me a favor. Have dinner with my parents on Tuesday.”

  “Trip, we’ve talked about this.”

  “And if I’m getting to meet your people, you should get to meet mine.”

  “I won’t argue with you, but I’m not doing that. So, I’m going to email you my parents’ address. My mom still tries to cook a Sunday dinner after church when I’m in town, so expect a full on meal. And we’ll be in church clothes, so don’t wear jeans. She said one o’clock and she always runs a bit late, but if you have any intention of making her happy, show up a little before one. After we eat with my parents, we can head over to Erica’s. She and Josh live in Germantown , so you can just follow me over there.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there. I miss you, Marisa.”

  “I miss you, too. I hate to go, but I’ve got church in the morning and need to head off to bed soon.”

  “Wish I were there to tuck you in.”

  “You even have a single thought like that anywhere around my parents and they would absolutely have heart attacks and die. Got it?”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ve been warned. I’ll behave, but once we’re back at my house, I’m not behaving a bit.”

  “Duly noted. Good night, Trip.”

  “Sleep well. Tomorrow can’t get here fast enough.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Sunday morning Marisa awoke with her stomach full of knots and acid. I can’t believe he’s meeting my parents and Erica all in one day. He’s going to run for the hills. She sat through the church service and pleasantly greeted her parents’ friends at the social where she accepted compliments on the mini cupcakes, all the while her thoughts were on how the rest of the day would play out.

  A few minutes before one, she saw Trip’s car pull up in her parents’ drive and she went out to meet him. He got out of the car looking as handsome as ever in olive slacks, a blue dress shirt, and polished penny loafers. He saw her and his face lit up. “Marisa, you are beautiful,” he said and went in for a kiss.

  Marisa quickly diverted his affection into an awkward hug. “And another thing,” she said into his ear during their hug. “No kissing, no touching, no hand holding. Don’t even think about touching me in front of my parents until I have a ring on.”

  “Well, if that’s what it takes,” said Trip, letting her go as smile lines formed around his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” pleaded Marisa. “I really didn’t. I’m not implying,” stammered Marisa. Please ground, swallow me up now. Come on, New Madrid Fault, where are you when a girl needs you?

  “I know exactly what you mean,” said Trip. “If I ever have a daughter I’ll be the same way. Plus, I think my mother would stroke out if I was anything less than a perfect gentleman in front of your parents. Trust me on this, as irresistible as you are and as much as I want you, I’m just going to keep it all to myself and save it up for when we get home.”

  Marisa turned bright red. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  “Great. Now, introduce me.”

  As promised, Trip was an angel and her mother was clearly designing wedding dresses and nurseries in her head the entire meal. He complimented her cooking, eating every bit of the meatloaf and potatoes that Marisa’s mom put in front of him and going back for seconds. Trip brought a bourbon pecan pie for dessert. He looked knowingly at Marisa while she ate a thin slice, trying to avoid his gaze. Trip and her dad chatted about football before he turned the subject of conversation to Trip. “So, Marisa tells us that you don’t practice law so much as help run your family’s business. She also said that you travel quite a bit for work.”

  “Yes, it keeps me busy. Just this week I was up in Michigan at our dollhouse furniture division. Didn’t get home until late last night, so I was happy to get a chance to see Marisa and meet you both today.”

  “Dollhouse furniture? How did your family get into that line of business?”

  “We acquired a company back in the mid-1960s and have grown it.”

  “Acquired? I’m sorry. I’m just confused. What does your family business do?”

  “Well, Brannon Company does lots of things, but mainly we buy businesses where we see a potential for growth and make them more profitable.”

  “You’re a Brannon?”

  “Yes, sir. I hope that’s okay. Not much I can do about it.”

  “No, that’s fine,” replied her dad, giving Marisa a serious look. “I just didn’t know.”

  “Yes, that’s how we met. You guys know Branco is one of my biggest clients,” jumped in Marisa, “and I met Trip through work. He actually lives in South Bluffs, too, and we hang out at the same bar.” Well, not at the same time, but we do both go to Cal’s.

  “Well, that’s so nice,” said her mother, coming to her rescue. “I think it’s just so nice that young people live downtown these days and get to be out and about so much. I’ve lived in Collierville all my life. I met Marisa’s father in high school and then I took over my family’s business, too.”

  “I guess we both did,” said her dad. “Nancy runs the insurance brokerage that her dad started and, until the deal got too good to pass up, I ran the family farm. Sold it back in the 90s. Now I work some at the Co-Op, trying to help other farmers stay afloat and we’re surrounded by McMansions and fancy SUVs. I kept enough land to grow a few things. Want to see my garden?”

  “Dad, I’m not sure Trip wants to see your garden.”

  “I’d love to see it. I’ll admit that I know next to nothing about gardening or farming, but I love to learn.”

  “Excellent. Let me give you a tour while the girls clean up,” said her dad. He pushed back from the table and walked toward the back door. Trip looked at Marisa and shrugged helplessly before following her father outside.

  “Don’t mind him. I can tell Trip likes you, so I don’t think your dad can do anything to scare him off. Now, help me clean up. I know y’all are headed over to Erica’s house in an hour or so, and I’d appreciate the help before you go.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” replied Marisa in autopilot as she stared out the windows and watched her father and Trip mill around the plants. She could see they were talking, but couldn’t make out a word. I really should learn how to lip read.

  “Really, Marisa. They’ll be fine. Now, come help me.”

&n
bsp; ***

  Trip followed Marisa’s black Audi from Collierville to Erica’s house in Germantown. Okay, Trip, here comes Round Two. I really hope you survive.

  Marisa parked on the curb in front of Erica’s traditional two story brick house and Trip pulled up close to her bumper. They got out of their cars and Trip called to her, “Same rules?”

  Marisa laughed.

  “No. You could pretty much have your way with me on the dining room table and as long as the kids weren’t in the room, Erica would cheer you on.”

  “Excellent. Let’s do it.”

  “I was exaggerating.”

  “I know. I’m just kidding with you. Calm down. Your parents are lovely and I thought that went well,” said Trip, as they approached Erica’s front door. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper and continued to speak. “I told you. I’m on my best behavior until we get home and then all bets are off.”

  Marisa gulped and pressed the doorbell. Both Simon and Miriam were at the door in a flash and were jumping up and down with excitement. Miriam screamed “Risa!” repeatedly, like she’d just met a rock star. Simon opened the glass door and they stepped in, only to be bombarded with hugs. Miriam even tackled Trip and gave him rock star treatment as well. “Risa’s friend! I love you! I love Risa!”

  “I have to agree with you. Miriam, right?”

  Miriam stepped back and eyed him. “Yes. You know me?”

  “Not yet, but I hope we can be friends.”

  “Good. I want to be friends with Risa’s friend. Do you like to play pretend?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Okay,” said Miriam, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the house. “Let’s go.”

  Trip looked helplessly over his shoulder. Marisa waved them goodbye and headed to the kitchen in search of Erica. “Hey, chicka. We’re here.”

  “Good. I hoped my children wouldn’t let ax murderers into the house, but if they stay out of my hair for ten minutes, then I might consider inviting ax murderers over for a playdate.”

  “You are so silly. We brought wine.”

  “Good. I’ve got some in the chiller already open. Help yourself. Also, it sounds like Trip might need some, too. I heard Miriam drag him away to play. How did it go with your parents?”

  “Fine, I guess. He’s quite the charmer. My mom seemed ready to pick out a china pattern and my dad seemed cool with him.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to meet him. Maybe we should go rescue him from Miriam?”

  “Let me fix these two glasses and we’ll go be knights in shining armor,” replied Marisa, as she poured generous amounts of Pinot Gris into two stemless glasses.

  They found Trip in the kids’ playroom, wearing a tiara and singing ‘Ring Around the Rosie.’ “Well, welcome to our family, Trip,” said Erica, striding across the room to give him a big hug.

  “Here you go, Trooper. A well-deserved adult refreshment,” said Marisa, passing him a glass of wine so full that it threatened to spill.

  “My hero,” said Trip, taking the glass from Marisa and giving her a peck on the cheek.

  “Risa, your friend is nice. What is his name?”

  “Why don’t you ask him that?”

  “What is your name?”

  “It’s Trip.”

  “Trip? Like when you fall down?”

  Trip nodded, the tiara dipping towards one eyebrow.

  “Good. Now, Trip, you pretend to be a frog.”

  “Okay,” said Trip, squatting to the ground with the tiara tilting at a precarious angle on this head. “Ribbit.”

  Marisa smiled, her heart warmed, and her body became flush. Miriam ran over to Trip, slowed down to approach him closely, and then kissed him square on the lips.

  “Miriam!,” shouted Erica. “We don’t kiss strangers.”

  “But he isn’t a stranger, Mommy. He’s a frog prince and I’m the princess.”

  “No, I think Marisa is the princess. Why don’t we all come into the living room and we can play together before dinner?”

  Trip stuffed himself with meatloaf for a second time that day and doled out compliments to Erica before settling into manly talk about business and markets and funds with Josh. “You weren’t kidding about the charming bit,” muttered Erica to Marisa, as she refilled Marisa’s glass with wine. “He needs to give Josh some lessons or I’ll drop my panties for him. Either way, damn, girl. I’m jealous.”

  “Shhh, Erica!”

  “Really, I’ve never been for swinging, but life is short.”

  Marisa placed her wine glass down on the table with slightly too much force and the men stopped talking at the sound.

  “Are you girls playing nice down there or does someone need to go to time out?,” asked Josh.

  “Daddy, Mommy and Risa can’t go to time out. Time out is not for grown-ups,” piped up Miriam, as Simon pushed mashed potatoes around his plate, plainly pretending his plate was some sort of construction site.

  “You’re right, sweetie. But we use our gentle words and gentle hands at the table, right?”

  “Yes. Gentle words, Mommy,” scolded Miriam. “Risa, when is your field trip?”

  “I don’t understand what you just said. Can you ask me again?,” inquired Marisa.

  “Your field trip. You can’t go unless you sign your permission slip.”

  Marisa nearly fell off her chair. Erica burst out laughing. The men looked at each other confusedly.

  “Sweet love, I’m not going on a field trip,” said Marisa. Tears spilled down her cheeks and Erica banged the table with both her palms.

  “I like going to the zoo with my class.”

  “And that is an excellent field trip,” agreed Erica trying to turn the conversation.

  “Are they always like this?,” asked Trip to Josh.

  “Pretty much,” said Josh, taking a large swallow of wine. “Okay, who’s up for a little hide and seek?” The children started screaming with joy. “Trip, you are welcome to join in this ritual if you want. Erica and Marisa usually slink off to the kitchen to gab for a bit. Pick your poison.”

  “Can I be it first?,” asked Trip. “I’m not sure I can’t handle the Marisa-Erica show without some back up.”

  “Truer words have never been said. It’s been nice to have you here to balance things out a bit.”

  It was nearly ten o’clock by the time Marisa and Trip left Germantown. They cruised slowly down Poplar, catching nearly every red light. Marisa groaned each time she saw a light in the distance turn yellow. At this rate we’ll be home by midnight and I’ve got a hearing at nine in Corinth. Marisa pulled into her parking space and was not surprised to feel bone tired. It’s probably just all of my anxiety about how the meet and greets would go, she thought. I’ll snap out of it. She met Trip in the lobby and they rode up the elevator together, Trip’s fingers woven through hers.

  “So, are you packing or are we staying?,” asked Trip when Marisa opened the door to her condo.

  “Honestly?,” asked Marisa, setting her bags on the floor.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, honestly, I’ve got to be in eastern Mississippi by eight-thirty for a nine o’clock hearing. It’s a two hour drive, which means I’ve got to get up around 4:30, if I have any hope of getting in a run before I leave.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that I can’t keep you up all night wowing you with my best game?”

  “If you’re happy with me not wowing the judge in that workplace injury case where the guy lost his arm at your pecan processing facility, then wow away.”

  “Someone lost an arm while shelling pecans? How did that happen?”

  “You really don’t want to know. The pictures are gruesome. It’s a good thing I’m a professional or I wouldn’t be able to eat a pecan ever again.”

  “And that would be a shame, as I know how much you love pecan pie. So, a drink here and then I’ll be on my way?”

  “Now, I never said anything about kicking you out. Let me fix some drinks. You
make yourself at home.” Marisa walked toward the kitchen and as she cracked open the bottle of Knob Creek she’d picked up with Cal’s help, she heard Trip mutter to himself, “With you, I am at home.”

  ***

  Marisa extricated herself from Trip’s sleepy embrace, slunk out of bed, and pulled on her running clothes. As she was tying her shoes, Trip stirred. “Go back to sleep. It’s really early. I’m just going for a quick three miles,” she said, leaning over to give him a kiss on his sandy head. She paused, taking in his sleepy body.

  “No, no, I’m up,” mumbled Trip. He swung his legs out from under the covers. “Just give me two minutes.” He stretched his lean body, standing on his toes and raising his arms over his head, allowing Marisa to enjoy the strength of his boxer-clad body. “I brought my exercise bag up last night after you went to sleep,” he explained with his back to her, slipping out of his boxers and into some running shorts before shoving his feet into socks and shoes. “Let me run to the bathroom and then we’re out the door.”

  Marisa stood by the front door, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail when Trip came up behind her and kissed her on the neck. “Okay, let’s go,” he said. He pulled away from her and walked out the door. Even with her brain fuzzy from sleep, she couldn’t help but admire the view as she trailed after him.

  The neighborhood was still. They plodded along in silence taking in the cool night air. After a few blocks, Marisa’s legs woke up and she picked up her pace. Trip stayed by her side. As they wound through the quiet streets, Trip matched Marisa’s pace. She turned on to Trip’s street and smiled as they approached his darkened house, happy to have his company, happy to know the man who lived in the house she’d so long admired. She heard Trip’s pace slow. “Too much? Too early? Too fast?,” she called over her shoulder.

  “No to all,” he replied coming to a stop. “Wait right here. I’ll just be a minute.” He sprinted up the lawn and disappeared into his house. Marisa obligingly paused and checked her watch. He had five minutes otherwise she’d be pushing it to make the hearing on time. She studied the house as lights flicked on. She could visualize his path through the white and glass modern structure. He appeared on the upper balcony, backlit by the lights in what she now knew to be his study. “Hey, Marisa,” he called, his loud voice shattering the night’s calm. When he was certain her eyes were on him, he continued. “Runner Girl, may I take you to dinner?”