Random Acts of Marriage (Wedding Favors)

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Random Acts of Marriage (Wedding Favors) Page 14

by Boone Brux


  “Leaving?” He released Helena’s hand and turned to Kinni. “But we just drove an hour to get here.”

  “Trust me.” Kinni vigorously shook her head. “You don’t want to stay for the ceremony.”

  She pivoted with every intention of leaving both of them standing. If she had to hitchhike back to Seattle she would. Before she got two steps, her mom blocked the path. “Honey, you’re making a fuss over nothing.”

  “You tricked me. You already had this planned when you asked me to come out.” Anger flashed through her, her foot tapping out a violent beat. “Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t come.” She waved her hand toward Price. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t have brought him.”

  “I’m sorry if wanting my daughter to visit more than a couple of times a year is so horrible for you.” Anger flashed in her mother’s eyes, and then they narrowed. “Stay or go, Kinni. It’s your choice.” She yanked open the screen door. “I’m tired of being your dirty little secret.”

  Price’s eyes rounded at the woman’s departing comment before turning to Kinni. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “Not really.” She crossed her arms and glared at the closed door. After a few seconds she pinched the bridge of her nose, so not wanting to get into the sordid details about her family, but knowing he deserved some answers. “This place, my parents’ home, is a commune.” Her lids cracked open and she lowered her hand. “All these people—” She swung her arm in a wide arc. “They live here—together.”

  He was quiet for a minute, his gaze darting from her to the surrounding area, and then back to her. “A commune?” He shook his head. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “I’d thought maybe they lived on a hobby farm or small estate, but a commune.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” This was why she never told people about her parents. They would stare at her as if she’d just told them she had been raised by raccoons or in a circus. “They’re a bunch of freaks.”

  “I never said that.” He frowned and shook his head. “Actually, I think this place is great…and your mom rocks.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her hip. “You don’t find this all a little weird?” Her eyes searched his face. “All these people living here? Growing food? Homeschooling their kids?”

  He stepped back and gave her a ponderous perusal. “Were you homeschooled?”

  She muttered her answer, hoping she wouldn’t have to repeat herself.

  “What was that?” he said, leaning toward her.

  “Fine, yes, I was homeschooled.” She lowered her arms and straightened, indicating the rambling house with a wave of her hand. “I grew up on a commune. I was homeschooled.” Her scowl deepened. “I even know how to build a composting toilet.”

  “Wow, now that’s impressive.” He grasped her shoulders. “You just keep getting sexier and sexier.”

  Her glare skidded to his face and her lips pursed. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea.” He released her and looked around. “But seriously, growing up in a place like this would have been awesome. My dad and mom worked a lot and didn’t always have time for us. It must have been fantastic having your folks available whenever you needed them.”

  “I don’t know about fantastic. They were always around.” She pointed to the bustling interior of the house. “Not only were they always there, so was everybody else. It didn’t matter if I was Helena and Marty’s kid, everybody got a voice about my upbringing. It was impossible to get a moment alone.”

  “I could see where that would be annoying.” He drew her toward two rocking chairs sitting in the middle of the porch and out of the way of traffic. “So does everybody live in the same building? You didn’t all sleep together, did you?”

  “Ewww, gross, no. Each family has their own house, but food is grown and meals are prepared as a community.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair and looked at him. “They’re into all that natural kind of stuff, solar power, wind power, composting, home births.” A shudder rippled through her. “Seeing the joys of childbirth when you’re ten can be very off-putting.”

  “No doubt.”

  A sigh escaped her. “Ya know, I used to love it here.”

  “What changed?” He rocked back and forth, but continued to hold her gaze. “Did something happen?”

  “I got a taste of the real world.”

  …

  Whether consciously or not, she began rocking to match his rhythm. The amusement in her expression melted, her stare distant and a little haunted. “What happened?” he asked again.

  “I used to love dancing. I danced all the time. Instead of walking, I danced. Instead of playing tag, I danced all over the yard. After dinner when the other kids were running around, trying to catch fireflies, my mom and dad would put on music and I’d dance for them on the front porch. I loved it so much that my mom agreed to let me take ballet lessons.” Her head lolled to the side and she looked at him, eyebrows lifted. “Of course that meant driving to town and going to a real class.”

  “That must have been exciting.” Though the image of Kinni dancing around the house as a child made him smile, he knew her story didn’t have a happy ending. Most people changed as they aged, but retained some semblance of their younger personality. Not her. The kid she described was in complete contrast to the adult he knew. “So what happened?”

  “Like I said, real life.” Her chair stopped rocking, and she stared straight ahead. “When the girls in my ballet class found out where and how I lived, they teased me. It wasn’t bad at first, but things got progressively worse. They said awful things about my parents and called me names. I didn’t understand a lot of it until I was older, but I knew they weren’t being nice. Eventually I quit the class.” She was silent for several long seconds, hurt etched on her face, and then in a quiet voice said, “I stopped dancing after that. They’d turned something I loved into a painful memory.”

  “I’m sorry they treated you like that.” He covered her hand with his. “Kids can be cruel.” The dark mood pressed between them. Though she didn’t expound on the event, it was evident that her transformation from free-spirited kid to serious adult started there. Wanting to lighten the mood, he stopped rocking and sat forward, and tapped her knee. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What?”

  “The night of Roxy’s bachelorette party”—he grinned, remembering her freestyle groove—“you were a dancing fool.”

  That brought a smile to her face, and after a second, she laughed. “Fool, I definitely believe that.”

  The front screen door creaked open and a dark-haired man leaned out of the house. “Kinndalynn, your mom said you were here.” He let the door slam shut behind him and closed the distance. “I’m so glad you made it.”

  “Hi, Daddy.” She stood, a genuine smile spreading across her face, and embraced him. “Though I wouldn’t have come if I’d known what you guys were planning.”

  “That’s why we didn’t tell you.” After another quick squeeze, he released her and turned to Price. “And you brought a friend.”

  “Price Lyons,” he said, not waiting for her to introduce him. He shoved out his hand, dearly hoping they could avoid the man-hug. “Congratulations on your commitment ceremony.”

  “Thank you.” Her father accepted his hand and made no move to embrace him. “I’m glad you came with Kinndalynn.” He released Price’s hand and claimed the seat next to his daughter. “But I’m surprised she allowed you to come—happy, but surprised.” Reaching over, he rubbed Kinni’s shoulder. “You’re only the second male friend she’s ever brought here.” He paused. “The first was a rather unpleasant man, very uppity. She acts like we’re some kind of lost tribe that never has interaction with the outside world.”

&nb
sp; “Then I feel honored.” Apparently, visiting her folks was a much bigger deal than he’d guessed. When she’d hemmed and hawed about him not coming, he thought it was because she didn’t want him to be bored. He hadn’t realized she hadn’t allowed many people into this part of her life. “What I’ve seen of your place so far is beautiful.”

  Her father’s eyes brightened. “Want a tour?”

  “Dad,” she warned.

  “I’d love a tour.” Price stood, countering her scowl with a cheery smile. Maybe she didn’t care about getting on her parents’ good side, but he did. “Come on.” He hauled her to her feet. “It will be fun.”

  She groaned, but didn’t resist when he propelled her forward in her father’s wake. “Remember, I don’t have to have fun anymore. The wedding is over.”

  Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “If you behave I’ll give you a treat later.”

  “What kind of treat?” she whispered.

  “Be good and you’ll find out.” He nipped her ear and then gave her ass a tiny slap.

  Even though she glowered at him, his actions had the desired effect. She didn’t complain once during the extensive tour of the grounds and main house. Sometime during her father’s recitation on apple tree grafting, she appeared to loosen up. During the circuit of the five gardens, she added her personal anecdotes about planting bamboo so she could get a pet panda, and by the time they circled back to the main house, she’d taken over the tour altogether. Despite her reluctance to acknowledge her upbringing, clearly she’d had a happy childhood. It was a shame she’d distanced herself so completely. These were good people whose only quirk was living off the grid.

  “So, Mr. Corbett, about your commitment ceremony…” Price said as they climbed the back steps to the massive screened-in back porch. “Should we have brought a gift?”

  “No, no.” Holding the door open, he laughed. “We’re just reconfirming our love and commitment to each other.”

  “My parents don’t believe in traditional marriage,” Kinni said. “So instead of a wedding, they do a commitment ceremony.”

  “That’s right.” Her father made the same gesture with his hand that Price had seen Kinni use when she was deep in debate. Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all. “Just because you have a piece of paper,” her father continued, “doesn’t mean you’ll be committed to each other.” He ushered them to a bar at the far side of the room and plucked two glasses off the counter. “By renewing our promise to each other, we replenish our faith in our relationship.” He handed them each a glass. “Here you go.”

  “That’s really beautiful, Mr. Corbett.” Price stared into the glass, trying to figure out what the black specks in the bright purple juice were. “The world would be a better place if more people viewed relationships like that.”

  “I think so, too.” Her father downed the juice and set the glass on the bar. “But call me Marty. We don’t stand on ceremony here. Everybody is a friend.” A second later a young woman in a robe called him over. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Price stared at the man’s departing back. “He’s nice.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Kinni said.

  “But I have one question.”

  She looked at him, a trace of concern marring her brow. “What?”

  “What in the hell is this stuff?” He wrinkled his face in disgust. “There are chunks floating in it.”

  “Those are chia seeds.” An unladylike snort slipped from her. “And the purple stuff is beet juice. It’s pretty good, but kind of an acquired taste.”

  “What is it about fathers and their drinks?” He lifted the glass and sniffed. “This smells way better than my dad’s Scottish Secret.”

  “That’s debatable, but I promise if you drink this you won’t wake up curled around a garden gnome.”

  He sniffed again and then took a sip, smacking his lips for effect. “Once you get past the slimy bits, it’s not bad.”

  Their conversation was interrupted when a sixtyish woman wearing a white robe clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody, we’re about to get started. Find a seat, please.”

  “What’s with the bathrobes?” His gaze scanned the group of people filtering into the room. Every one of them wore a robe and was barefoot. “I feel overdressed. This isn’t some weird cult thing, is it?” He eyed the purple juice. “And this isn’t special Kool-Aid, right?”

  “No, nothing like that, but I did leave out one thing about the ceremony.” Despite this being her parents’ event, which usually meant the family sat up front, she took his hand and guided him to the last two chairs in the back right corner.

  “Don’t you want to sit up front?”

  “Definitely not.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Listen, during the renewal part of the ceremony my parents are going to profess their love. It’s all about baring their souls to each other.”

  So far the whole affair didn’t sound so bad. “I’m guessing there’s a but with this explanation.”

  “Oh there’s definitely a butt, lots of them.” She took a deep breath and blurted, “When they bare their soul, they bare the rest of themselves, too.”

  He squinted at her and shook his head. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, part of the ceremony is done naked.”

  “Your parents are naked?”

  “Yes, my parents will be naked.” She paused. “And so is the officiate…and the guests.”

  “But we’re guests.” His head shook from side to side while his gaze made a mad dash around the room, mentally registering all the robed attendees. For the first time that he could remember, his mind went blank. “Does that mean we have to be naked, too?” He gave himself a mental shake, trying to unimagine the elderly lady with a walker robeless. “I mean, I’m all for nakedness. I think I’ve proven that, but…”

  “No, we will not be naked. Nor will we be watching. Wait here.” She slipped between the chairs, grabbed two bathrobes from the table, and returned, handing one to him. “When I tell you, we’ll hold them in front of our face like this.” She demonstrated, pressing the wad of terry cloth against her face as if her life depended on it. “Okay?”

  He mimicked her, the urge to laugh over the situation bubbling up. “All right, but I’m taking all my cues from you.”

  “It’s a really short section, maybe a minute or two long, so not too bad.”

  Not too bad? These were her parents she was talking about, not to mention the entire community. If he slipped up and caught a glimpse of Marty’s junk, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look the man in the eyes again.

  When the music started, they sat, each clutching a robe to their chest. At first, his nerves were strung tight, his emotions jumping from what the hell was he doing here to this is kind of humbling. Kinni might feel like she came from a community of freaks, but he respected anybody who followed their own path. Her parents had built a good life full of love and support. Sure there were a few oddities, but what family didn’t have them? Hell, his dad still tried to sneak haggis in at every holiday get-together. They might not be able to choose their relatives, but in his opinion, neither one of them had done too badly. Maybe he could help her remember that, instead of continuing to shut such a rich part of her life out.

  All in all, the ceremony wasn’t bad. She’d been right about the naked part being short, and although he couldn’t visually partake in the ceremony, the promises Kinni’s parents recited to each other affected him more than many of the wedding vows he’d heard in his life. These were from the heart, a true commitment to not just loving each other, but looking past their faults and remembering why they fell in love with each other to begin with.

  As he watched Kinni chat with an elderly man in a floral robe, a calm happiness settled over him. Damn, he hadn’t even seen cupid’s arrow coming.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In the middle of Earl Metzer’s riveting story about his colonoscopy, Kinni’s phone buzzed from inside her purse. �
��Sorry, Mr. Metzer.” Normally, she put it on silent during events, but she’d forgotten. With the wedding over, it hadn’t occurred to her that anybody would try to get hold of her today. She flipped it over, her breath catching in her throat when she read “J. Lawson” on her screen. “I need to take this.” Not waiting for the old man’s comment, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Miss Corbett?” The deep voice of Jonathan Lawson filtered through the phone.

  “Yes.” Her heart raced. There could only be one reason why he’d be calling her—on a Sunday.

  “This is John Lawson. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Lawson.” She pushed the screen door open and stepped outside so she could hear him more clearly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I’m hoping you’ll agree to take a position at our firm.”

  “A job.” After torturous months of job hunting, she’d finally landed a position with her dream employer. “You’re offering me a job?”

  “I am.” He chuckled.

  “Oh my God, this is incredible.”

  “Can I take that as a yes?”

  “Yes, absolutely. I’d love to work for Lawson and Associates.”

  “Excellent. Normally we would have waited until tomorrow to call, but last week Price mentioned how anxious you were to start working.”

  A fraction of her elation deflated. “Yes, I’m definitely ready to start, sir.”

  “How does Tuesday morning at eight o’clock sound? That will give HR a chance to get everything ready for your orientation.”

  “I will be there bright and early Tuesday morning. And thank you again, Mr. Lawson.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Corbett, and welcome to the firm.”

  She disconnected and dropped the phone back in her purse. The job was hers if she wanted it, and under normal circumstances she would have been happy, but one question nagged at her. Had she earned the position, or had Price gotten it for her?

  “There you are.” He pushed open the door and jogged down the stairs. “You disappeared and I couldn’t find you.” His voice faded and he stopped, giving her a hard look. “What’s wrong? Did something happen with your parents?”

 

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