Staying Single

by Millie Criswell

  "But why? I mean, I can understand your being upset for Matt, that's understandable. But you didn't know me, didn't know the reasons behind my leaving him or my other fiancés at the altar. How could you judge me without all the facts?"

  "I shouldn't have. I know that now. After I got to know you I understood better why you had done it. And even though I was still upset for Matt, I couldn't dislike you anymore. In fact, I grew to love you. My love, my proposal, the fact that I want to marry you, that is all real."

  Shoulders stiffening, Francie pulled her hand from his grasp, her eyes narrowing. "How do I know that? How do I know that everything you've told me, every word of love, was not a sham? You seem to be quite good at deception. You sure had me fooled."

  "It wasn't…isn't. I swear. I'm in love with you, Francie. I want you to be my wife. That ring on your finger is proof of that. It was my grandmother's."

  She gazed down at the ring, which didn't seem to shine as brightly now, and sighed. "Was Matt a part of this?" She had a hard time believing that he would do such a thing. Matt was too honest and sweet to have been a party to something so heinous.

  Mark shook his head. "No. My parents and Matt went to Maui for a vacation. They were out of the picture when I implemented this stupid scheme."

  "I see."

  He held out his hands beseechingly. "Francie, I'm sorry. Truly, I am. Please forgive me."

  "I think you'd better leave, Mark. I'm not thinking clearly right now, and I might say something I'll regret later. Please leave. I have to have time to think, to sort this all out."

  To eat fifty gallons of fudge ripple ice cream.

  "Don't hate me, Francie. I know what I did was childish and destructive, especially since I didn't know anything about the kind of woman you are. I'd been hurt in the past by unfaithful, unfeeling women and—"

  "And you lumped me in with them?"

  Bastard!

  "I guess I did. But now that I know you, I realize I was wrong, that it couldn't be further from the truth. I love you. Please believe that."

  "I don't know what to believe anymore, Mark. I've been planning a wedding, a life with you, thinking seriously about having your children…and it's all been based on lies. I feel used, stupid and very, very angry."

  And hurt. So much so that her heart ached with it.

  "Not all of it was a lie. My love is the genuine article."

  "How do I know that, after everything you've said? I don't really know you at all, do I?"

  He rocked back on his heels as if slapped. "Because I'm telling you the truth, that's why. There's never been anyone who has touched my heart and soul the way you have. I surrendered my heart the first time I kissed you and made love to you. I knew then that I could never go through with my asinine plan for revenge."

  Francie felt her eyes swelling with tears, but she refused to let Mark see her cry over him. "Please go home, Mark. I need a few days to think about things, see where we go from here."

  "I love you, Francie. Please remember that," he said, kissing her cheek. He stood and walked to the door, pausing to look back, his face a mask of pain and regret. "When can I see you again?"

  "I don't know. I'll call you."

  But she wouldn't. Not for a long time.

  Maybe not forever.

  Francie had been walking around in a daze for a week, and she was still no closer to deciding what she was going to do about Mark.

  She loved him. That was still a certainty. Despite everything he had done to deceive her, her love for him was as strong as ever, a never-ending entity.

  But could she marry him?

  Francie wasn't sure.

  She'd made so many mistakes in the past. How could she compound those mistakes by making another? It was clear that she sucked in the judgment department.

  Knowing that, she'd talked things over with Leo, who had told Francie she'd be crazy to break off her engagement to Mark. He had advised her to marry "the poor bastard and put him out of his misery."

  Apparently, Mark had cried on Leo's shoulder a time or two.

  Surprise! Surprise!

  Men always stuck together.

  So it had come as quite a shock to learn that Lisa shared Leo's opinion. Her sister had advised Francie to forgive Mark and proceed with the wedding as planned, saying Francie would regret it for the rest of her life if she made any decision other than to marry Mark.

  But when had Lisa ever been right or decisive about anything? One minute she was eloping and the next—

  And then there was Joyce. Even her pragmatic best friend, who was not a huge fan of the male species, had advised her to go ahead with the wedding. And Joyce, for all her faults, had never lied to Francie. She told it like it was, painful or not, and Francie had always taken her advice.

  But what about now?

  Confused, and at wit's end, she decided to seek out the one person who might actually be able to offer some insight into her problem, as farfetched as that seemed.

  Francie entered her mother's kitchen and found Josephine alone, standing at the stove, stirring a pot of beef stew. The pungent smell of onions permeated the warm room, making her stomach rumble.

  One thing Francie hadn't lost was her appetite. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Anxiety and unhappiness made her eat like there was no tomorrow. She'd been devouring ice cream, chocolate and anything else edible she could get her hands on.

  Francie had eaten at such an alarming rate and quantity that Leo had taken to calling her Miss Piggy.

  And Leo called himself her friend. Ha!

  "Hi, Ma!"

  Josephine, who knew nothing of her problems with Mark, turned and smiled widely. "There's my favorite bride-to-be. What are you doing here, Francie?" She glanced at the big round clock on the wall that always reminded Francie of the man in the moon. "I thought you were going for the final fitting of your wedding dress today. Do you want me to come with you? Is that why you've come?"

  Her mother seemed so excited at the prospect Francie was reluctant to burst her bubble, but knew she had to. "We need to talk, Mom. I'm thinking about canceling the wedding."

  "What?" Wiping her hands on her apron, Josephine rushed forward and took her daughter's hands, concern covering her face. "What happened? You can trust your mother with the truth. Is Mark abusive? Did he hit you? Does he carry on with other women? Because if that's so—"

  Heaving a sigh, Francie shook her head. "No, Ma, it's nothing like that."

  Crossing herself, Josephine breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the good Lord! I was frightened for you. There are so many crazy people in this world."

  Seating themselves at the old Formica table, Josephine pushed a plate of sugar cookies toward her daughter. "Eat. It will make your problems seem lighter. Now, tell me what's wrong. Why must you cancel your wedding?"

  "Mark deceived me."

  Josephine gasped. "With another woman? Bastardo!"

  As if by rote, Francie explained for the fourth—and she hoped final—time the story of Mark's revenge against her, including his avowals of love and her feelings of mistrust. "I don't know what to do. I'm sad, confused and very hurt by everything that's happened."

  "You have done the right thing by coming to your mother." Josephine patted her daughter's hand consolingly. "Do you still love Mark?"

  "Unfortunately, I do. And he says he loves me. But still, that doesn't make up for what he's done, or was planning to do."

  After a few moments Josephine nodded. "I agree. You shouldn't marry him. I think it would be best if you break it off, call it quits."

  Francie's eyes widened. "What? But that's the last thing I expected you to say." And probably the reason she'd come to get her mother's advice in the first place. Four for four would have been the cincher in helping her to decide whether or not she should go through with the wedding.

  "As much as I want you to get married, I don't want you to marry someone you feel you can't trust, or who can't make you happy. You would be miserable fo
r the rest of your life."

  "But Mark does make me happy, deliriously so. At least, he did, before all this happened."

  "Has he called?"

  She nodded. "At least twenty times a day. My answering machine is full of his messages. He's come over, too, but I refuse to see him. Leo's been running interference for me."

  "He sent flowers?"

  "Dozens of bouquets, all with little cards that say how sorry he is and how much he loves me."

  "Jewelry?"

  "No."

  Josephine made a face. "Well, you can't expect everything, but a diamond and emerald bracelet would have been nice."

  "He did send a giant teddy bear." With a red heart hanging around its neck that said, I Love You!

  "That is good. It shows he knows he did wrong and is trying to make it right. I will go talk to him."

  "You?" Francie's eyes widened, right before her gut clenched. "You're going to talk to Mark? Whatever for?"

  "To see where his heart is in this matter. If I feel that he is being honest and contrite, then we will proceed. If not, we will cancel the wedding."

  "But shouldn't that be my decision? I mean, I am a grown woman. I do know my own mind. Well, I used to. Just not right now." Francie heaved a disheartened sigh, wondering why her almost-perfect future had gone down the shitter.

  On second thought, a visit from Josephine was just what Mark deserved.

  "Exactly. You are too close to the situation and not thinking clearly right now. You need someone objective who can decide what the best thing is to do.."

  Well, they didn't call her The Terminator for nothing. If anyone could dissect and interrogate Mark Fielding, it was Josephine Morelli.

  "Isn't it a bit cowardly of me to let you handle this? The one thing I've fought against all my life is having you push me into making decisions I don't want to make."

  "I promise this time I won't push. I'll just find out the facts and tell you what I think. You will make the final decision about the wedding, and your father and I will abide by it."

  Jaw unhinging, Francie's asked, "You're kidding, right?"

  "The only thing I have ever wanted is your happiness, Francie."

  "And grandchildren. Let's be honest."

  Josephine smiled. "And grandchildren. But I want your happiness even more than the bambinos. I have been very happily married to your father these many years, even though at times it doesn't seem so. I want the same for you, Francesca. I want you to find happiness with someone you can love and respect, and who will love and respect you in return."

  Wow! Was this woman sitting here really her mother? Or had the real Josephine Morelli been taken by aliens and replaced with a clone?

  After a few moments Francie said, "Okay, Ma. We'll do it your way."

  And let the chips fall where they may.

  True to her word, Josephine paid a visit to her daughter's fiancé later that same afternoon. She had four questions for Mark.

  "Do you love my daughter?"

  "Yes!"

  "Are you sorry for what you have done and willing to make penance?"

  "Yes!"

  "Are your parents willing to chip in on the wedding reception?"

  "Of course."

  "Are your sperm healthy and strong swimmers?"

  "I… I think… Yes."

  Satisfied with his answers, Josephine left Mark standing in the middle of the living room with his mouth gaping open, and headed over to her daughter's apartment.

  "I had a serious discussion with Mark," she told Francie upon entering. "He says he loves you very much and will do everything in his power to make it up to you. I think travel and expensive jewelry are not out of the realm of possibility."

  Remote in hand, Francie clicked off the TV show she'd been watching, a dismayed look on her face. "But, Ma, I don't want expensive gifts. That is not what this is all about."

  "Don't be stupid, Francesca! When a man has been wrong about something important he must pay through the nose. It is the way of things. Women of the world must stick together on this matter."

  "Anyway, I had a very to-the-point talk with Mark. The man is very distraught about what he has done. After searching my soul and praying to God, I've decided that you should marry him. He loves you, you love him. What could be better?"

  Francie's eyes rounded. "You do? But I thought you said—"

  Josephine waved away her daughter's objections. "Yes, I am certain it is the right thing. Mark is a good man. And the fact he is a man explains a lot about why he does the things he does. It's the nature of the beast. But you can take him in hand and make him toe the line once you're married. Don't be afraid to…" Josephine's brows rose up and down. "You know."

  At her mother's innuendo, Francie gasped. "Ma! That's terrible. Women aren't supposed to use sex as a weapon."

  "And why not? We don't have that many weapons to use. God gave us that one, so we should take advantage when we can. It's only fair."

  For some strange reason, whenever her mother explained things, it sort of made sense. Why was that?

  "Thanks for your help and advice, Ma. I'll take over from here."

  "So you're going to marry him, no?"

  "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

  But, of course, she had.

  Josephine's face filled with pleasure. "That's good enough for me. I'll call Father Scaletti and tell him the wedding is to go on as planned."

  "You told Father Scaletti about this? How embarrassing. How am I supposed to face him now?"

  "He's my spiritual advisor, Francesca. Of course, I told him. Now be a good girl and go kiss and make up with your fiancé."

  Kissing her mother goodbye, Francie headed straight for the refrigerator. She needed sustenance, a lot of it, while she decided what she was going to say to Mark.

  16

  It was a bad day for a wedding.

  Right?

  Francie wasn't the least bit sure of anything as she gazed down the red-carpeted aisle—Leo was right about the carpet being threadbare—to where Mark was waiting for her at the altar. Standing next to him was the best man, his brother, Matt.

  And how weird was that?

  The church was packed. Even Aunt Flo had decided to dress up for the occasion. She looked a little less bag-ladyish than usual. Grandma Abrizzi was wiping tears from her eyes with a pretty lace handkerchief, probably because she'd been seated next to Aunt Flo.

  Mark looked extremely handsome in his tux and very confident.

  And why shouldn't he be?

  Her almost husband had hired off-duty police officers to stand at the rear of the church, in front of the doors, just in case Francie changed her mind and decided to run.

  She should have been furious with him, especially after everything that he'd done, even though she'd forgiven him.

  Make-up sex was really rather fantastic!

  But Francie was so stupidly in love with Mark Fielding that instead of being upset, she thought it was the most romantic gesture any man had ever made.

  Good grief! She was going to barf.

  But not because she was nervous; she wasn't the least bit nervous—okay, maybe just a little bit—but because her thoughts were so sickeningly sweet.

  Marrying Mark felt right. She had no doubts about that now. And she had her mother, of all people, to thank.

  When Josephine had uttered those prophetic words—He loves you, you love him. What could be better?—Francie'd had no argument. She'd known in that moment that she was going to become Mrs. Mark Fielding, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and in Paris, where they were going on their honeymoon, as soon as the wedding formalities were over and done with.

  Paris. Mark. Sex!

  She could get used to this marriage thing. Staying single was highly overrated, in her opinion.

  Glancing down the aisle at her mother, Francie was surprised to find that the woman was wearing a distraught rather horrified expression.

  "What's wrong with Ma?" she
whispered to her father, who had her arm clutched so tightly he was cutting off her circulation. "She doesn't look too happy."

  "We didn't want to tell you until after the wedding, but your sister won't be here today. She left a note. Lisa has eloped with some man we've never heard of."

  Francie glanced around, noting for the first time that her sister was a no show and thought "Damn!" She did her best to look suitably surprised by the news.

  Lisa had done it. She'd eloped. And the shit was going to hit the fan, but it wouldn't be blowing in her direction for a change.

  "Lisa's a grown woman. I'm sure she knows what she's doing." That thought was ludicrous at best, not to mention downright hysterical.

  "Your sister has made your mother and I very upset, but we are not going to let her selfishness ruin your day, Francie."

  The music began, signaling to Francie and her father that it was show time.

  John leaned down and kissed his daughter's cheek. "I'm very proud of you this day, cara. Mark is a great guy. You made the right decision to marry him."

  "Thanks, Pop! It wasn't that difficult of a decision to make. I'm in love."

  If her smile grew any wider, she'd been tagged as mentally deranged, Francie thought. Thank you, Dr. Rosenblat!

  She headed down the aisle to where Mark was waiting for her with a huge smile on his face and love in his eyes.

  I love you, he mouthed, then winked at her.

  Her heart did a complete flip-flop, and she heaved a sigh of happiness. "Ain't love grand?"

  And it was.