Heartwood

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Heartwood Page 14

by L. G. Pace III


  Been there, done that. Have the souvenir penny to prove it.

  “I should have been here, Mac.” My voice was much more level than my trembling insides.

  “I should have come out to Seattle and dragged you home. When Robin told us some of the shit he pulled...”

  Again, I knew who he was talking about. Drae. The infamous story about him spraining my wrist and locking me in a walk-in freezer. Dan had blabbed to Robin and she’d told my brothers.

  If you only knew the half of it, Mac.

  I sighed, thankful that Mac and Mason didn’t know the rest of the story. The other things I’d allowed him to do to me. Not because they would have both ended up in prison for murder, but because I couldn’t bear them knowing. I was ashamed that I’d gotten into that situation. I was more ashamed that he’d tricked me into staying. That I’d allowed myself to believe him. That I’d fallen for the oldest tricks in the book.

  Because I wasn’t supposed to be that girl. I was Molly Fucking Hildebrandt. I didn’t take any shit from anyone.

  At least that’s what my brothers thought. It’s how they’d reared me to be.

  “I had to learn the hard way, Mac.” I felt that old practiced smile blossom on my face. I was great at putting people at ease about my personal demons. “You know how I am.”

  He nodded. We didn’t say much after that. We didn’t really need to.

  When I joined Joe at the head table afterward, he didn’t press me for any details about the discussion. I was struck again at how well he knew me. Knowing when to push and when to step back. He just leaned in and took my hand. Then he went off with me to find the twins, so we could say goodbye.

  Both of our babies were sound asleep. How they could sleep in the middle of Mac’s promised Macarena, I’ll never be able to comprehend. Lisa tried to get us to do a dollar dance, but Joe and I declined, insisting that we had to be at the airport two hours before our flight. We had plenty of time, but we’d both had our fill.

  As we headed out of the reception hall, everyone lined the path with sparklers to usher us off into the sunset. After one last kiss for the crowd and the cameras, we hurried hand in hand through the gauntlet of our friends and family. Near the end, we were ambushed by my brothers and nephews who’d come armed with bubble shooters for God knows what reason. Even when we got out to the parking lot and saw what they’d done to Joe’s truck, it didn’t dampen my spirits.

  The entire windshield was covered in Vaseline and shaving cream, and they’d filled the back of Joe’s truck with what appeared to be dirty diapers and blown up condoms. Joe’s expression would have been frightening had I not anticipated this eventuality.

  “I’m going to kick someone’s ass.” He mumbled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

  “It’s alright, baby.” I tugged him by the hand in the direction of my car, which had been parked behind a nearby service building early that morning.

  “But our luggage...” Joe stopped, turning back to the truck.

  “Jay moved it all to the trunk of my car the minute you got here.” I replied. “And Robin promised to make them clean up anything they did to your truck.”

  “Wow. You really thought this through.” Joe’s eyebrows shot up, but he looked relieved.

  I cocked my head to the side. “These are my brothers we’re talking about.”

  He swept me up into his arms so suddenly I let out a squeal. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me over the gravel to my car.

  “I think you’re supposed to carry me over the threshold before we consummate the marriage.” I teased him, unable to hide my delight.

  “I doubt we’ll get out of the parking lot without consummating our marriage.” His husky voice and the way he looked at me made me flush.

  We did fog up the windows a little, but we had a plane to catch so it wasn’t long before we were driving toward the airport. I looked over at my husband, and the setting sun framed him like a beautiful portrait. Because Joe was a masterpiece. Anyone claiming a man can’t be beautiful has never met Joe Jensen.

  I breathed a giant sigh of relief as I settled back with my hand on his and reflected on the day. Everything had gone without a hitch. Even Joe arriving late was something I’d planned for, so it didn’t worry me at all. Eva had slept for a solid seven hours, and I’d woken up well rested and zit free just minutes before my alarm went off.

  Tressa and Jamie entertained Eva while my attendants and entourage helped me decorate the hall. Everyone was in high spirits when Kelly and Francis showed up to help. Even Dan and Jay were being cordial to one another.

  My decorations were simple. Cream table cloths and candles decked the tables, white lights strung around the tall wood support beams and draping dramatically over the dance floor. Clusters of sunflowers and blue bonnets sat as centerpieces in plain mason jars. The expansive glass windows displayed the tall pecan trees and the view of the creekside archway where our ceremony would take place.

  Right before we went to change into our formal attire, the handlebar mustached hipster from Sweetish Hill showed up to deliver our cakes. When I remembered the smirk on his face the day Joe chased me into the bakery to ask me out, it made me smile.

  I hung back to fix one last cockeyed centerpiece. When I turned to leave for hair and makeup, Francis was waiting by the exit for me.

  “How ya holding up, Sweetheart?” He grinned, and a warm feeling overtook me. Francis had been such a joy to get to know, and I was thrilled that he still chose to work for Joe. I’d always credit him and his quick thinking for putting Draven behind bars and though I’d tried and tried to express how grateful I was, I was too inarticulate to make it happen. I liked to think he got it without me saying it. He’d become like family to me, and it meant more than I could say that he’d be a part of our wedding.

  “I’m ready.” I replied, clapping my hands together. “Let’s do this.”

  “I think you might want to change first.” He snorted and his sparkling eyes dropped to my ripped jean shorts and t-shirt that proudly proclaimed “Dingos ate my baby”.

  “Okay, not literally...” I giggled, throwing my arm around him and leading him out onto the flagstone walkway that led from the reception hall under a series of rustic archways to the building where my friends and my gown awaited me.

  “Molly.” He paused and turned to me, his face looking grave.

  “What is it, Fran?” I rarely saw him without his signature smile, and it gave me pause.

  “I just wanted to tell you how happy I am. For you...for Joe. If anyone deserves the fairytale it’s you two.” He blushed a bit and I felt an unexpected sting in my eyes. “Joe helped me get my life together, and you played a very large part in that. And...I want you to know how grateful I am. Meeting you helped me to heal. It led to me having a chance to know Kelly again.”

  “You did that all by yourself, Francis. As much as I’d love to take credit for it, all I did was treat you to lunch.” I could feel my face burning. Francis shook his head, then dropped his eyes to the ground.

  “I was out there for a long time. Believe me when I tell you that I would not have made it back if it hadn’t been for you.” The absolute certainty in his voice caught my smart aleck reply in my throat. His voice took on a wistful tone.

  “It’s funny how you can lose yourself in plain view of everyone. Once you’re lost, it’s hard to find your way back. And as for help? Well, people don’t see the homeless...not really. They visually tune them out because their existence is unpleasant. But you saw me, Molly. To you I wasn’t a bum. You didn’t just see the drunk, you saw the person I was underneath. And when you treated me with dignity, others started to see me, too.”

  A tear escaped me and I pulled Francis into a hug. He squeezed me with surprising strength and I wiped at my face as I let him go.

  “Everyone deserves respect, Fran. Being homeless shouldn’t make you invisible. We all have made mistakes in our past. It would be a terrible exist
ence if we were never allowed to make amends.” Francis nodded and handed me a handkerchief.

  “Wipe your eyes, Sweetheart. That photographer will have my guts for garters if I get you all puffy from crying.” I gave a snort at how close to the mark he was. When she was in photographer mode Lisa was a force to be reckoned with.

  There was a lot of laughter and plenty of champagne as the bridesmaids, flower girls, and I got our hair and nails done by the three stylists who’d come to work their magic. After my stylist finished my makeup, I handed the lipstick to Stacy.

  “Hold onto this.” I peered at my reflection, pleased with the results.

  “Okay.” Stacy squinted as if waiting for clarification.

  “For when Joe kisses this first application off.” I pointed to my lips.

  Stacy cackled, but her silly expression did nothing to take away from how darling she looked in her blue dress. The perfect shade of the material warmed my heart.

  It hadn’t been hard to pick my wedding colors. Blue was the color of the paint Joe had chosen for his apartment, and we’d both ended up covered in the stuff when things between us got out of hand. We’d tried hard to avoid each other, and had succeeded for nearly a month that time around. All that time and discipline went right out the window when he welcomed me inside. Our attraction had been like a force of nature. It superseded all reason and logic, and try as we might, we ended up back in each other’s arms time and time again.

  I caught a glimpse of Tressa lugging Eva around. Her flower girl dress was sure to have her slobber all over it. The yellow color of my flower girl’s dresses matched the sunflowers Francis had given me on my birthday a couple of years ago. It had been before Joe gave him a job. He’d finished off the bouquet with scores of wildflowers, blue bonnets and some others I didn’t know the names of. That was the night Joe and I had first slept together, and he’d teased me about keeping them. He’d called them ditch weeds, and encouraged me to throw them away once Francis was no longer around to notice.

  When I placed my order with the florist, she agreed that blue bonnets and sunflowers looked great together, but wanted to round off the bouquets with white roses or baby’s breath. I refused. I wanted simple, rustic, and elegant. I wasn’t sure Joe would even remember the flowers, but I did. That touch was just for me, and they turned out exactly as I’d hoped.

  I was so caught up in my reflection of our day that I didn’t notice we missed our turn for the airport. When I finally realized where we were, I whipped my head in Joe’s direction.

  “Are we going home to change first?” I asked.

  “No. But we do have to make a stop.” He replied, and the corner of his mouth turned upward. It was a tell of his, he was up to something.

  The longer we travelled the more confused I got. We were definitely heading back to familiar territory. But for the life of me I couldn’t think of why. When he pulled the car to a stop, I was completely confused. Coming around to my side, he opened the door for me and offered me his hand. Once I joined him on the sidewalk, he tucked my hand through his arm and began strolling down the street.

  “Baby, I know that you aren’t the biggest fan of surprises. I love them. Trying to find a balance for that is going to take us time. But, I really wanted to do this for you...and I just hope...I hope I got it right this time.” I watched him, torn between amusement at his childlike excitement and the need to kiss his perfect lips. My heart swelled with love as he led me around the corner.

  Gesturing across the street, he drew my eyes to a familiar building. At first, I had trouble understanding what I was seeing. When realization finally dawned, it felt like a lightning bolt went through my body. In an instant, I was transported back in time. There in front of me was my family’s old restaurant, Hildebrandt’s.

  The crumbling tile work and faded paint had been replaced. The outside looked just like it had during my childhood, vibrant, polished, and new. Turning open-mouthed to Joe, I tried to form words but eloquence escaped me.

  “What...”

  A look of apprehension showed on his handsome face, but a tentative smile overtook him.

  “I racked my brain for weeks trying to think of something to get you for a wedding present. Then something your mom said to me before the twins were born came to mind. She told me ‘That girl was born to cook. I wish her daddy had lived long enough to see what all she’s accomplished.’ After how sad you got seeing this place vacant, it got me thinking. I wanted to give it back to you. So I bought it and restored it.”

  “You restored my dad’s restaurant.” Saying it out loud didn’t make the situation feel any less unreal. I was awash with too many emotions at once: shock, happiness, anger. It was like being in a boat swept away in a flood. Joe led me to a bench nearby and sat down with me.

  “All but the kitchen. The smokers seemed intact, and I wasn’t sure what to keep and what to demo.” He replied, as casually as if we were deciding what restaurant to order take out from.

  “Joe...” I gasped.

  I saw his square jaw tighten, and he pressed on. “I tried to think of what I could give the woman who keeps telling me she has everything. Every time I asked what you wanted you told me that the kids and I were more than enough. Is it too much?”

  “Joe, it’s way too much.” I stammered. “I got you some pictures with your old truck and you bought me a business.”

  “It was a steal.” He replied. “The sellers were eager to drop it on someone else.”

  My mind swam with a potent combination of gratitude and concern.

  “The restoration must have been expensive...” I trailed off, not really sure what to say.

  “Not really. Your brothers have been in on it from the beginning. We called in a few favors. Hell, some guys volunteered. They said it was a community service. If there was even a chance of the famous Hildebrandt brisket coming back, they were in.”

  I turned to look at the gorgeous sight of daddy’s restaurant restored to its former glory. I noticed he’d made a few subtle improvements that gave the place an updated look. The For Sale sign was nowhere to be seen.

  “How could you afford it?” I asked, feeling tears stinging my eyes.

  “My mother gave me our wedding present back when we announced our engagement, remember?” He bumped his shoulder into mine playfully. Joe’s mom signed Joe’s trust fund from her side of the family over to him, saying to invest it in our future. It was pretty clear to both of us his father knew nothing about it. I wondered if that was still the case.

  “But, Joe!” I started, thinking about the babies, their college fund, Joe’s business, and all the other things he could have done with hundreds of thousands of dollars.

  “But nothin’, baby girl.” He tipped my chin so that he was looking me in the eye. “I’m investing in you. In us. Everything you touch turns to gold. You can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve proven so time and time again. I believe in you.”

  I was so choked up that when I spoke, my words came out sounding strangled. “Thank you.”

  Joe put his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to open the place. It’s yours to do with as you please. Sell it, burn it down. It’s entirely up to you. I just wanted you to see it the way it used to be. I can’t have that sad look on your face ever again. Not if I have the power to do something about it.”

  The sound of the surf woke me, and I opened my eyes to the faint glow of dawn wrestling to overthrow the horizon. It was early, but we’d gained an hour during the flight to Cabo San Lucas, so for me, it was actually sleeping in. Add in the lack of a two a.m. feeding, and I felt decadent.

  I sat up on the edge of the king-sized bed and stretched. Picking up my panties, which had somehow ended up on a standing lamp nearby, I took a moment to admire the oceanfront room Joe had booked for us. Now that I could actually see it in the light of day, I realized it was no standard room. It was spacious enough that we could spend hours in the room without feel cooped u
p. The neutral tones were inviting and elegant without feeling obnoxious.

  I was wearing Joe’s t-shirt from the night before, having lost my lingerie somewhere in the tangled bed sheets. He’d insisted on handing me the shirt off his back, making some crack about not wanting me to get a chest cold.

  That’s my husband. Chivalry over comfort.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he still slept soundly, in his typical position on his stomach. The twisted sheets fell short of covering my favorite feature, the arch of his back sloping down to his perfect ass. Resisting the temptation to trail my finger down his spine and slip my hand beneath the sheets, I stepped into my panties and padded over to the sliding door. I quietly slid it open and strolled out into the warm, breezy morning. I breathed in the salty air and sighed.

  When I opened my eyes, the expanse of the azure Pacific made me suck in a loud breath. A long white ribbon of beach stood between me and the endless blue, and I had the strong desire to run down the beach and dive into the rolling waves.

  As I reached out to grasp the wooden rail, I caught site of my wedding band which now spooned snugly against the engagement ring I’d worn on my left hand for many months. I stared at them for a long while, moved by their significance. This was all too good to be true.

  A feeling of foreboding gripped my heart, and I fought with myself to let it go. After several deep breathing exercises and forcing myself to sit and then stand back up again, I was consumed with the need to touch Joe. I needed to hold him against me to confirm that this wasn’t some wildly vivid dream.

  I turned to do just that and he was there in the doorway, almost as if he’d read my mind. The intensity of his eyes on me was the truest, most anchoring real there was, and I felt the invisible burden I’d been struggling with leave me as if it had sprouted wings.

  Joe had never looked better. His fair hair was mussed from sex and sleep, and it complimented his golden brown skin. His navy boxer briefs hung low on his hips, and the defined lines of his body made me hungry, but not for breakfast. Try as I might, I couldn’t decide which part of him I wanted to touch first.

 

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