Til There Was U

by Dianne Castell

  Arthur gave a rueful smile. “She already knows. I think she knew before I did.”

  Conrad watched Arthur drive off, then looked out to the Mississippi. He felt as if he were caught in one of those tacky glass globes that have sand and trinkets and you shake it and everything winds up in a different place than before. In the last half hour his whole life had changed like that.

  Christ almighty! He, Conrad Hastings, was going to marry a ragamuffin raised in a river shack, and his best friend was gay. He looked longingly at the whiskey decanter. God, could he use a drink right now. But he couldn’t. He had to captivate Thelma McAllister and get her to marry him. Both things were virgin territory, but Hastings rose to the challenge. They were survivors. His way might not be his granddaddy’s way or his daddy’s, but surviving was surviving. He could do this. He could go into the O’Fallon den and face them all. Hell, what other choices did he have?

  ———

  Thelma gazed out the side kitchen window at Effie and Ryan arguing in the driveway. They hadn’t been at the Landing much over an hour and had done battle royal for more than half that time. How’d those two get anything done back in California? Then again, the Landing was not California. Emotions flowed a little faster, a bit hotter, a little closer to the surface. Maybe it was the heat that brought it out of a person or being by the water itself.

  She spied a red Ferrari zooming into the drive, coming to a gravel-spitting halt behind Ryan and Effie. Only one of those fancy cars around these parts. What in blazes did Conrad Hastings want here, of all places? The O’Fallon house was not his usual stomping ground. The Landing in general wasn’t good enough for him. The highbrows of Memphis were where he spent most of his time, in and out of bed, and they were welcome to him.

  Conrad slid from his car, grabbed a basket off the front seat, waved to Ryan, gave Effie a quick once-over that hinted approval and headed for the front door as Ryan scowled after him.

  Heavenly days, if he rang the bell, he’d wake Bonnie, and Rory was putting her down for a nap right this very minute. Thelma dried her hands on her apron as she tore for the front door. She yanked it open and snatched Conrad’s finger just before it made the feared jab. “Don’t do that!”

  Conrad looked startled; Thelma let out a relieved sigh. “You’ll wake the baby, and once she starts hollering we’re all doomed ‘til she falls back to sleep, and heaven knows how long that’ll take.” Thelma forced a hospitable smile as she let go of his hand. “What can I do for you, Mr. Hastings?”

  He flashed a teeth-whitened smile that would do any dentist proud. “Aren’t you going to ask me in, and since when do you call me Mr. Hastings.”

  Since always, she thought to herself. And that he didn’t remember what she called him didn’t surprise her one bit. Conrad Hastings looked right through her no matter where they ran into each other—the market, the bank, just passing on the street. She simply didn’t exist to him. He always seemed to be too busy searching for someone far more important to bother with than the likes of Thelma McAllister. She didn’t mind that he pulled that on her, but when he did it to half the people on the Landing, people she cared about, that pissed her off big time. Damn his pompous hide!

  Well, he was on her turf now, and she did not have to put up with his attitude. Here he was just some guy. Handsome, for sure, a smooth talker, most definitely, but just a guy at the door, and that’s just how she intended to treat him. Well, maybe not that good but she’d treat him all right.

  Thelma stepped aside. “Please, come on in, but make sure you wipe your feet and no loud noises unless you fancy walking the floor with a howling baby in your arms who tends to spit up formula when she’s agitated.”

  Conrad’s grin slipped a notch as he stepped over the threshold, and Thelma bit back a laugh. The thought of a baby in Conrad’s arms and puke on his shirt was enough to make any smile slip, especially his own. She eyed a covered basket in his hand. “A picnic?”

  His perfect smile returned. “Actually, it is. I was wondering if... “

  “Effie would go on a picnic with you?” Thelma put her hand to her hip while saying, “You are one fast worker, even faster than your reputation. Thought you’d broaden your horizons with a California girl, did you?”

  “California? Well, I—”

  “Ryan might have something to say about that.” She hitched her chin to the driveway. “Those two look like they’re arguing, but truth be told I think they’re doing a whole lot more. But you can ask them yourself because they’re headed this way.”

  Conrad shook his head. “Thelma, my dear, you’ve got this all wrong.”

  “You mean you’re here to ask Ryan on a picnic. Well, la-de-da, now that could be interesting.”

  Conrad’s jaw sagged. “R-Ryan? Trust me, I am not here for—”

  “This here is Conrad Hastings,” Thelma said to Effie as she came onto the porch. “He’s wanting to take you on a picnic this afternoon.”

  “You are?” Ryan said, looking none too happy and a bit threatening. Not only was Ryan O’Fallon getting real territorial all of a sudden, but Conrad was completely dumbfounded. Well, good. He had it coming. He’d made enough people feel uneasy over the years. Maybe now he’d think twice about doing it.

  Thelma offered, “Conrad’s here to come calling on Effie. He’s what we call a fast operator in these parts.”

  Conrad shook his head again. “I’m not here to see Lettie. I’m here to see—”

  “It’s Effie,” Ryan said, his brow furrowing.

  Thelma said, “If you don’t want to go out with Effie, why else would you bring food into this house? You think I can’t cook?” She caught Ryan’s eye for a second and winked.

  Ryan pointed to Thelma. “You don’t think Thelma’s a good cook? Needs help to feed her guests? Thelma’s a great cook.”

  “Have you ever had her pecan pie?” Effie chimed in.

  “No, I haven’t but—”

  “Someone’s spreading rumors I can’t cook, and you brought Effie food to impress her? Is that why you’re here?” Thelma deepened her frown.

  “Not at all,” Conrad said to Thelma, his voice raising an octave, looking a bit frazzled. “I’m sure your cooking is superb and your pie is beyond compare but—”

  “Why in the world would you care if I can cook and feel the need to head over here with a basket of vittles to rescue everyone?”

  “I’m not rescuing—”

  “I’ve got a good mind to get the shotgun, and you can tell whoever put you up to this that their little joke backfired and—”

  “Wait!” Conrad sliced his hand through the air as if cutting a big chunk out of it, bringing everyone to a standstill. He slapped a smile on his face that looked forced. “No one told me anything, and I am not here for Lettie.”

  “Effie,” Ryan corrected.

  “Thank you.” Conrad pulled in a deep breath. “I’m here for Thelrna and”— he faced her, rushing on before she could stop him—”it has nothing to do with your cooking. I just thought you and I could go on an evening picnic. And not because you can’t cook but because it might be enjoyable for both of us to spend some time together on a beautiful summer night.”

  He pulled back the red-and-white-checked cloth that covered the basket. “I hoped I might tempt you with some unusual cheeses I picked up in Memphis and a pate and some Italian bread I’m fond of. And a ‘96 Merlot, of course. Can’t have Gouda and Saga without a ‘96 Merlot.”

  Thelma considered her Gap T-shirt, her baggie denim capri pants that she’d splashed bleach on and had white steaks across the front and her hair that was held on top of her head in a ragged twist by a pencil she’d found in the drawer when she’d needed to get her hair out of her face. She looked at Conrad, his perfectly creased khakis, royal blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt, sophisticated look of self-importance. She laughed.

  Ryan stood between her and Conrad. “Who put you up to this, Hastings?”

  Conrad held his hand out, palm up. �
��No one. I’ve always admired Thelma, and I’ve decided to act on it. That’s why I’m here.”

  Ryan’s face tightened into a no-nonsense look, and Conrad rushed on with, “I know it didn’t seem that way before now, but I wanted to make sure of my feelings before I pursued her.”

  Thelma felt her eyes widen by half. “You .. . You’re pursuing me?”

  Conrad did an elegant bow. “If you’d permit me the honor of your company. Why else would I be here if I wasn’t sincere about my intentions toward you, my dear? You’re looking at a changed man.”

  My dear? Thelma couldn’t have been more surprised if the grandfather clock in the hallway had suddenly come to life and done a jig. “You’re here to ask me .. . out?”

  “I know you don’t think much of me right now, but I intend to fix that if you would simply allow me the chance to do so. I’ve reflected on my life and found it wanting and am here to court Thelma if she’ll have me.”

  And, oddly enough, the man did look sincere about what he said. And unbelievably handsome while saying it.

  Ryan stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It’s up to you, Thelma, but something’s going on. I know this guy.”

  Thelma shrugged. “I can’t go out. I have Bonnie to take care of and—”

  Effie said, “Ryan and I can help Rory with the baby. Don’t let that be what’s stopping you from going out. Besides, I bet you haven’t had any time off since Bonnie got here, and babies are so demanding. You’re due, and now that the real father’s here he can do his share.”

  Conrad chimed in with, “I’ve come to make amends, Thelma. I’ve suddenly realized there’s more to life than gallivanting around the world with no purpose or anyone special to share it with.” He took her hand and stared into her eyes. “I want to get to know you and for you to know the real me. All I’m asking for is a date, an opportunity for us to spend time together because I admire the person you are.”

  Effie gave Thelma a why-the-heck-not look, then added, “You can stay here and make formula, or go on an evening picnic with a very handsome man and watch the sun set over the Mississippi.”

  Conrad nodded to Effie. “I thank you for that kind compliment.”

  Okay, there must be a glitch in the universe. Conrad Hastings was on her porch, complimenting her and everyone else. This was not like him at all. But, she did love wine and cheese, and she could jolly-well use a break. “Why not. Sure, Conrad, I’d love to go on a picnic.”

  “Wonderful.” He beamed, and he looked relieved, as if he’d been afraid she’d say no and he really wanted her to say yes. Yep, the universe was really screwed up today.

  She tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear and said to Conrad, “If you wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes, I’d like to put on something a bit more appropriate for our evening picnic.”

  “By all means.” Conrad nodded.

  Ryan scowled, and Effie said, “Perhaps Conrad would like a glass of lemonade while he’s waiting.”

  “That would be delightful.” Then he winked at Thelma, and she nearly passed out right there in the hallway. He turned and followed Effie back out onto the porch to a wicker chair. Ryan walked with Thelma to the stairs, stopping her before she went up. “I don’t know what’s going on with that guy, but be damn careful.”

  “You mean why would someone like the sophisticated Conrad Hastings be attracted to someone like me? Now that’s a very good question.”

  Ryan held her hand. “That’s not it at all. You’re worth a million Conrads, but this visit is out of the blue. Take care of yourself. Take your cell phone. Keep your finger on speed-dial for home, pray for a decent connection for once. I think Effie has pepper spray in her purse. God knows she has everything else in there. Take that, too.”

  He grasped her hand tighter. “I don’t want anyone playing fast and loose with my favorite girl.”

  Thelma giggled and kissed Ryan on the cheek. “You’re so full of beans. I’m not a teenager, you know. I’m forty-seven, but I do appreciate you fretting over me. Now I better get a move on. I have a man waiting for me on the front porch.” She smiled and twitched her hips.

  Ryan made a sour face. “I just wish it wasn’t that man.”

  Thelma tisked. “The food and wine look yummy, and I really haven’t been out of the house for a while. If nothing else, tonight should be interesting.”

  “You really think Conrad’s changed? That he’s telling the truth?”

  She bit back a laugh. “When the Mississippi dries up and the catfish say meow. That’s when I’ll know Conrad Hastings has changed.”

  Chapter 4

  Effie leaned back in the white wicker rocker on the O’Fallons’ front porch and listened to Conrad Hastings talk about the Landing, the Blues—though a man who drove a Ferrari couldn’t know zip about the Blues—and Memphis-style barbecue as he waited for Thelma.

  It wasn’t that Effie liked spending time with this guy, but someone had to entertain him while Thelma changed. And it gave Effie a chance to deal with the idea of Bonnie being Rory’s daughter, not Ryan’s, and Ryan pretending to be the father to protect the child.

  This was not the Ryan O’Fallon she knew back in San Diego. That Ryan never had time for anything but work . . . and a boatload of haphazard relationships. This Ryan put work on hold to help his father. That was good because he was a better person than she realized, and it was bad because she liked him all the more for it.

  Blast, why couldn’t he come here and kick a dog or something! Then she could hate his guts. But no, she had hunky Ryan O’Fallon all-around good son and protective big brother to deal with.

  Effie nodded every once in a while to keep the conversation with Conrad going. Now this was a guy she could learn to dislike. Maybe she shouldn’t have encouraged Thelma to go out with him, no matter how much the woman needed a break from the dirty diaper and formula routine.

  Effie knew the Conrad type. Heck, she’d dated the Conrad type. Always after something—sex or money or sex or prestige or sex and getting made partner in her father’s accounting firm. Except Thelma had no money or position, and no one had said anything about her father being an accountant.

  So what was Conrad Hastings doing on the O’Fallons’ front porch waiting for their nanny/housekeeper/family friend?

  His little speech about changing was so much bull crap. She knew because she’d been fed that particular line on more than one ill-fated occasion. Oh, Effie, darling, I’ve changed. I won’t—here she could fill in the blank with whatever he’d been caught at—again. Yeah, right!

  Ryan came onto the porch, and she grabbed his arm. His turn to be polite to the guest, except she suddenly wasn’t thinking about polite but about her hand on solid muscle. In all the time they’d been together she’d never actually on purpose touched him. Oh, they’d brushed past each other or skimmed each other’s hands but not connected on purpose.

  And she should have kept it that way.

  She let go and stood. “I’ll check on Thelma.” She was amazed her befuddled brain could put words together. “I’ll leave you two to catch up on old times.”

  Ryan gave her a look that suggested he’d rather eat nails than be with Conrad, and Conrad’s expression was the same. Not exactly male-bonding time on the shores of the Mississippi. More like gentlemen take your pistols, walk twenty paces and fire at will.

  She went inside. The polished dark oak felt cool against her bare feet. She needed something cool after the Ryan encounter. Fishing from the company pier was a very bad idea, something she’d managed to avoid for eighteen months at Designs Unlimited. All she had to do was keep it up. When they got back to San Diego Ryan would be his old womanizing self, and she’d be back to liking him only on a physical level. That was a lot easier to resist than Ryan good guy.

  She knocked on Thelma’s door, hoping she wasn’t intruding. Thelma threw open the door, eyes huge, jaw clenched. “I can cook, clean, nanny all at the same time, but I can’t
do this.” She nodded downstairs. “I haven’t dated in .. . Well, let’s just say I haven’t been twenty for a long time, and that was the beginning and end of my dating career.”

  She pointed at the two dresses on the bed. “This is it. The wardrobe from Prairie Home Companion. It’s all I’ve got. That Donna Karen person would have a stroke.”

  Effie took in the two floral-print dresses and one blue polyester suit on the bed.

  “My Sunday best,” Thelma said. “What do I wear? The suit is out for a picnic, but the dresses kind of work. Not that I care what Conrad thinks, since I don’t even like the man and never intend to go out with him again as long as I live. But a woman’s got to look nice on a date or people talk. I don’t need people talking.”

  She lowered her voice. “I’m just using Conrad to get out of this house. I figure he owes me that much for all the times he’s snubbed me.”

  “Snubbed you? How could Conrad do such a thing? Though I do know the type.”

  “For him I think it comes natural, but his mama and daddy were never that way.” TheJma nodded at the dress with blue roses. “Okay, pick.”

  Thelma was medium height, maybe a size sixteen, wild brown curly hair, light blue eyes, effervescence oozing from every pore. If Effie Wilson could spruce up malls, Thelma would be a snap.

  Effie said, “Let’s make Conrad Hastings sit up and take notice. Let’s make him so sorry he ever snubbed you and make him cry himself to sleep tonight repenting the errors of his ways for not taking notice of you before. We’re going to make him salivate when he sees you, physically pant. We’re going to get even.”

  Effie grinned. “We’re going to make Conrad Hastings drool.”

  Thelma pushed Effie into a chair. “Honey, I believe the Mississippi humidity has surely muddled your California brain. You’re delusional. I’m nearly fifty. The only time a man drools my way is when he sees me with a double-dip of rocky-road. My drooling days are over., or closer to the truth, I never had them in the first place.”

  “Just you wait.” Effie stood and called over her shoulder as she left the room. “Find some slacks and a T-shirt. Do you have an old pair of heels?”