by Anita Higman
“And what have you discovered?”
“That even if you don’t forget how to ride a bike, after years without trying, you might fall down a few times.”
Mason took a sip from his water glass. “I’m sorry if I caused you some bruises on your knees.”
“There was no other way.” Trudie shrugged. “Bruises seem to be part of life.”
Mason looked like he was about to respond when a waiter whooshed over to their table, serving petite plates of garden greens. Everyone dug in, and suddenly the food seemed a priority over conversation.
Trudie was glad for the reprieve. Her muscles relaxed, but she had no idea how she would actually digest her meal. Her stomach felt like it was doing the rumba.
“Now, this table has become entirely too quiet,” Wiley said as he buttered his roll. “Maybe we should rouse things a bit. I have a question, and I’d love for you each to answer it. Are you game?”
“I guess that depends on your question.” Mason speared a tomato with his fork.
“Of course. I’ll give you the question, and then you can decide.” Wiley straightened his shoulders. “How do you think a person would know for sure...when they’ve fallen in love?”
Lane coughed.
Mason paused from buttering his roll but looked unruffled.
“That’s quite a question you have there, Wiley,” Trudie said, trying to come to everyone’s aid.
Wiley raised his chin. “Come now. We’re in the midst of love tonight. We should celebrate with the most succulent morsels of repartee. No talk of the weather or anything boring...like taxes and money.”
Lane grinned. “Mason is a financial consultant.”
Wiley put his hand up. “Oh, I’d forgotten. Please accept my apologies.”
“No apology necessary,” Mason said. “I get bored talking about money all the time, too.”
“So, Mason, how would you respond to my query?” Wiley took a bite of his roll.
“All right. You have a reasonable question.” Mason lowered his fork. “I think love can come from a thousand different places and in a thousand different ways. And...even if you only see the first glimpse of love...I think it might stand out as clearly as a rainbow in a black and white world. So, I don’t think it’s so much a matter of knowing love when it comes as it is what you’re going to do with it when it arrives.”
Wiley tapped his knuckles on the table. “Oh, excellent reply.”
“Mason, that was beautiful.” Lane lifted her glass to him.
Trudie looked into Mason’s golden brown eyes, but he blurred a bit from the mist in her own eyes.
“Excuse me for a minute while I go powder my nose.” Lane rose, smoothing her cameo pink suit.
Mason and Wiley both rose briefly until Lane had walked away.
Then Wiley’s attention suddenly seemed elsewhere. “Oh, I’ve spotted someone I haven’t seen in ages. I must go over and say hello. Please excuse me for a minute.”
“That’s fine.” Mason went back to his salad.
Wiley left them and hurried off to another table.
Trudie wondered how it came to be that she’d wanted to go to the wedding to get away from all musings of Mason, only to be forced to sit next to him. Alone. “How do you like the salad?”
“It’s not very filling, but then it’s not supposed to be.”
“Would you like another roll?” Trudie picked up the basket.
Mason looked at her. “That isn’t what I want.”
Trudie took a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her forehead and her cheeks. It was a good thing she’d made two applications of antiperspirant. She’d need it.
“You have a glow about you this evening.”
“No, I’m sweating. I sweat a lot. It’s one of my many imperfections.”
Mason grinned. “Sweating is not an imperfection. All women do it. It’s just that none of them will admit it but you. And I happen to be fond of honesty.”
Trudie thought he was being wonderfully impossible. In fact, more wonderfully impossible by the minute. “So, what do you think of Wiley?”
He seemed to study her for a moment. “Well, that depends on his intentions toward you. If it’s only in the friendship realm, then I would say he’s a decent sort of man. But if he is more than a friend, then I would say he’s a clown.”
Trudie chuckled. “Wiley is a friend.” Her heart ached, wishing she could sweep that look of perplexity off his face and wishing she could pick up with Mason just where they’d left off. It had been a breathtaking place to be.
“I want to explain something to you. I thought I could benefit from some of Lane’s expertise, since I deal with people a lot, and when we were in her office yesterday, I noticed the wedding invitation on her desk. I made mention of it, and when she found out I was coming too, well, she asked if we could ride together. So, I don’t want you to—”
Trudie gave Mason’s arm a squeeze. “There’s no need to explain anything.”
They both stared at her hand—the one gently fastened to his arm. She quickly released him. “I think I’d better check on my sister. Make sure she didn’t drown.”
“Is that common in women’s restrooms?”
“I heard of it once.” Trudie grinned and took off toward an exit, any exit. Then as she meandered about, she wondered if Lane’s overly Victorian remark about powdering her nose was really some sort of universal female code among women that really meant, “Meet me in the bathroom.” Once she spotted the sign that read Women, Trudie pushed through the door and entered the elegant world of black granite and pastel lights.
“Trudie. There you are. What took you so long?” Lane picked up one of the little individual towels and patted her hands with it.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in here or not.”
Lane chuckled. “Of course I did. Even I don’t say ‘powder my nose.’”
“Sorry.” Trudie looked at her sister more closely. “Have you been crying?”
“Just a little.” Lane lowered her voice. “Why, do my eyes look red?” She looked in the mirror.
“No, not really. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I was just so moved at what Mason said about me.” Lane let her fingers loosen as if they were petals opening. “You know that I stood out as clearly as a rainbow in a black and white world. It was the most romantic thing a man has ever said about me.”
Trudie pressed her finger against her chin. Her sister’s words rendered her speechless for a moment.
Lane gave her head a little shake. “I mean, he wanted a couple of sessions from me right away, so instead of having him drive into Houston, he just came over to my home office yesterday. And he was friendly and amusing. I’ve never had such a good time. I had no idea he was having such amorous thoughts already. It’s working, just as I’d hoped.” Lane hugged Trudie. “And I have you to thank for that.”
Trudie hugged her back. O God, what should I do? If she remained silent, Lane would believe a falsehood about their relationship. Trudie wondered if she should correct the mistake immediately. And yet if she spoke up, it would hurt her sister, and it would come off like sour grapes—as if she couldn’t handle Mason’s change of affections. Trudie ground her fingernails into her palms. The truth will set you free. And yet for a while it would be a miserable kind of freedom. “Lane, I need to tell you something. Right now.”
Lane frowned. “I have to say, I was so surprised to see you and Wiley here. But why did you both just talk of friendship?”
“He’s as wonderful as you said he was, but we’ve decided to be just friends.” Trudie raised her finger to get her sister’s attention. “But I need to tell—”
“Well, sometimes friendship can grow into more.” Lane pulled a couple of hairpins from her purse. “Here, let me help you with your garland. I noticed it was sagging to one side.” Lane straightened the wreath of flowers on Trudie’s hair and pinned it in place. “There, that’s better.”
Tru
die look in the mirror and touched the delicate flowers. “Thanks.”
Lane looked at her in the mirror. “You haven’t changed your mind? Have you?”
“About what?”
“About refusing Mason so that he could ask me out?”
Lane must have gotten a glimpse of her sadness before she’d put on a smile. What could she say in honesty? “It warms my heart to see you so happy.”
“That’s what I hoped you’d say.” Lane gave her a hug, being careful not to tug on their satin streamers. “Thank you so much.”
Trudie let out some pent-up air. “But there is still something I need to mention.”
“Be sure and tell me at the table.” Lane grinned. “Well, show time.” Then she breezed through the doorway before Trudie could say another word.
The truth can set you free if you can ever manage to say it. Trudie sighed. The emotional mayhem humans were capable of in the name of love was almost comical. But not quite.
She sighed one more time for good measure and headed out of the ladies’ room. Then Trudie paused, watching their dining table from a distance. Mason pulled out Lane’s chair again, and within an instant they were laughing. Could Mason have meant what he said—only about Lane? Were his words really poking fun at her for refusing him? Hmm. Considering the rest of what Mason had said at the table, Trudie didn’t think the idea was plausible, but in spite of her own common sense, she allowed a doubt to wriggle its way into her spirit like a weevil into a boll of cotton. And she knew well that it would keep her from mentioning anything to Lane on the subject of rainbows.
Trudie trudged forward. How would she survive the evening? She was suffocating. Wiley approached the table at the same time she did, but it was Mason who already stood behind Trudie’s chair to pull it out for her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
Before Mason sat back down, his fingers brushed along her back. Trudie hoped no one had noticed his subtle embrace as well as her sudden intake of air. She looked down at her plate of food. The main entrée had arrived—stuffed flounder. How apropos. Trudie took a bite. “Mmm. Just right.”
“Isn’t it though?” Wiley glanced around the table, first at Trudie and then at Mason, with a sudden look of understanding. “But perhaps a little fishy as well. Don’t you think?”
“After they serve the wedding cake I hear there’s dancing in the main ballroom.” Mason grinned.
So, Mason is a dancer, and he’s looking forward to showing off a bit. “I would love to dance, but I’m afraid I’m clueless.” Trudie took a big bite of her fish.
“Well, that should be perfect then, since I haven’t a clue either.” Mason smiled and took a bigger bite of his fish.
Wiley dabbed his mouth with the corner of his napkin. “If you don’t know how to dance, then you can simply move back and forth with elegance. No one knows the difference.”
Lane chuckled. “Do you know how to dance, Wiley?”
“Of course, and do you, Lane, darling?”
“I do...some.” She smiled at him.
“Well, then I expect at least one dance so you can prove it to me.” Wiley tilted his head at her as if he meant it.
Lane looked at Trudie. “But you’re with my sister this evening. That’s not quite fair to her. I was—”
“No, no. It’s all right.” Trudie waved her off. “Wiley and I just came as friends. I would be happy to watch you two from the sidelines.”
“We are indeed becoming good friends.” Wiley lifted his glass to Trudie. “Thank you. By the way, Trudie, it’s your turn. What was your answer to my question?”
“Question?” Trudie’s throat suddenly felt as parched as if she’d eaten shredded cardboard—heavily salted. She picked up her glass and finished off the last drop of water.
“You know the question.” Wiley shook his finger at her. “How do you know when you’ve found love?”
Perspiration made rivulets inside Trudie’s dress as she tried to think of something safe to say—something that wouldn’t encourage Mason, something that wouldn’t upset Lane, and something that would entertain Wiley. Oh, dear. “I suddenly feel like a mouse who’s stayed a little too long for the cheese dinner,” was all that came out of Trudie’s mouth.
After the meal had been consumed and the wedding cake sliced, Trudie groaned inside, realizing it was time to retire to the ballroom for another round of eye-twitching, tongue-tied torture.
The semi-merry band of four moved from the banquet hall, through a long colonnade, and into the grand ballroom. Yet another breathtaking room awaited them. The polished wooden floor shone under the lights of the chandeliers, and a small orchestra sat poised, ready to play.
The newlyweds whirled into the ballroom in a cloud of joy. They greeted a few people, then positioned themselves in the middle of the dance floor. A spotlight bathed them in a golden glow. Jerold placed his hand on Kelsey’s waist, and she lifted her gloved hand to his shoulder. The conductor raised his baton, and then the music of “Some Enchanted Evening” filled the room. The happy couple began to dance as the crowd looked on. The tiny rhinestones on Kelsey’s gown twinkled like starlight as they circled the room. Trudie felt certain Kelsey was living the fairytale wedding she’d always wanted—all things beautiful and filled with wonder. And she couldn’t have been happier for the couple.
When the tune wound down, everyone applauded. Kelsey giggled and Jerold kissed her. Then the spotlight went out and the orchestra began to play “Unforgettable.”
Wiley took Lane’s hand, and they headed toward the middle of the floor.
Trudie watched as they moved gracefully to the music. “They’re good. I had no idea my sister could dance like that.”
“If you’re not terrified of being mangled by my clumsy efforts, we might give it a try.” Mason winked at her.
“But I thought you said—”
“Well, my parents taught me a little.”
Trudie saw Lane having a wonderful time. There was no reason not to at least enjoy the evening. She held her hands up for him to sweep her away. And he did, slowly and steadily. “You’re good.” They stumbled a little, making Trudie laugh.
“Don’t compliment me too soon. I said I could dance a little, and I meant it.”
They swayed to the gentle rhythm of the music for a while without speaking. Trudie closed her eyes for a moment just to heighten the feel of his touch against her. She couldn’t think of any place on earth she’d rather be than right there in his arms. Wasn’t that a song?
Mason moved her a little closer to him, and she didn’t pull away. “By the way,” he whispered in her ear.
She opened her eyes. “Yes?”
“I don’t quite have the mystery solved, but I’m getting there.”
Trudie licked her lips. “What mystery?”
“I think you know what mystery I mean.”
“Yes, I guess I do.” She took in some extra air. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”
Mason gently released her for a twirl, and while she still held his hand, Trudie managed to spin out and come back to him without faltering.
“I’m not usually a mysterious person,” Trudie went on to say. “It’s just that...” Her voice faded, since all she really wanted to do was enjoy the last few seconds she had with him. When the music came to a close, Mason gently dipped her backwards as he held her firmly in his grasp. For a moment, just a moment, she wondered if that was the fairy tale rapture Ginger Rogers must have felt in the arms of Fred Astaire.
When Trudie came back up, she chuckled at the surprise of the dance move, but the laughter disappeared when she looked into his eyes. She suddenly felt alone with him, as if no one else graced the dance floor and no time had passed since they were together in his house—when they’d shared their secrets and their laughter.
Mason smiled and touched her cheek.
Trudie’s eyes filled with mist. He looked down at her lips, and for that moment the r
ainbows, which she’d put away with so many other impossible dreams, became real again. Then applause and chatter broke the spell. She eased out of his arms.
Wiley, who was red-faced and bent over, hobbled over to them. Lane followed behind him, looking worried.
“I’m afraid I’ve thrown my back out.” Wiley shook his head. “Trudie, would you mind driving me to the minor emergency center?”
Chapter Twenty-two
Mason pulled into his garage, got out of his car, and slammed the car door shut. Then he got back in his car, turned off the motor, which was still running, and then slammed the door again. I’m going to need to calm down.
Once he’d lowered the garage door and gone inside the house, Mason loosened his tie and turned on the big screen TV. He thought watching a little baseball might help clear his head. But after a few minutes, he pushed the red button on the remote, turning off the TV. There was no escape.
Why was courting Trudie so much like chasing fireflies? He’d remembered how that went as a kid. No matter how stealthy he was, the insects would always vanish and then reappear just out of reach. He’d come close to wooing Trudie back. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. And then that Wiley character—a bit of a buffoon—had to go and wrench his back, all from acting as though he’d just entered a national ballroom competition.
Mason turned and noticed the lights of a car through one of the front windows. He glanced at his watch. Nine sixteen. He rarely got company so late. Trudie? Couldn’t be. He looked through a front blind. Whoever it was shut off their lights and opened the car door. Looked like Perry. Good. He was the one friend who never minded what kind of mood he was in.
Mason opened the front door. Perry trudged up the walk, wearing a pair of old gray sweats and a look of frustration. When he’d made it partway up the walk Mason asked, “Hey, what brings you out so late?”
Perry rocked his head back and forth.
“So, you’re in the doghouse again?”
“Yeah, I know.” Perry raised his hands. “Remember this when you’re married someday. Sometimes you just have to shut up.”
