by Dara Girard
Clement stared at him confused. “What does this have to do with Brenda?”
“Nothing. It has to do with you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I can always spot a man who is running away from something.”
Clement frowned. “Running away?”
Dominic nodded. “Your showy display of concern for your sister is touching, but that’s not why you’re here. What’s going on?”
Clement stared out in the distance.
Dominic shrugged. “Of course you don’t have to tell me.”
“I quit my job.”
“Okay,” Dominic said, then waited.
“Brenda was always telling me that I should stand up to my boss and that I didn’t need to be bullied by him. One day I couldn’t take it anymore and left.”
“And you have no other options?”
He shook his head.
“A man doesn’t go to his sister in hopes that she’ll take care of him.”
Clement’s jaw twitched with anger. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Dominic looked at him unmoved.
“Okay,” he admitted. “Perhaps I had hoped she could help lead me in the right direction. She’s always been good at that.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“I didn’t think of anything.”
“I’m going to tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to spend a couple of days with your sister, as though nothing has happened. Then you’re going to return home and call me. I have a division in Oregon and can find you an excellent position in our engineering division, but you have to promise me to show up and work hard.”
Clement stared at him in wonder. “Why would you help me?”
Dominic stood. “I think the reason’s obvious, but if you don’t know you’ll figure it out.” He opened the patio doors.
Brenda rushed up to them and sent Clement a nervous look. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine,” Dominic said.
Brenda looked at Clement for reassurance and he smiled. “Yeah, just like he said.”
Brenda clapped her hands together. “Good, because I’ve just had a great idea.”
“What?”
“Tomorrow night I’m going to cook both of you dinner.”
Chapter 12
“Is it okay to be afraid?” Clement asked the next evening as he and Dominic faced each other as they sat at the dinner table. The table was elaborately set and they could hear Brenda humming in the kitchen.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” Dominic said, not sure at all.
Clement played with his fork. “Should I ask her what she’s making?”
“Do you want to be disappointed?”
“No.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“She’s been at it for hours. Have you seen her?”
Dominic couldn’t have helped seeing her. After coming back from work, he’d stepped in the kitchen and had seen Brenda wearing a crisp, black apron and gloves. All she needed was protective eye gear and she’d look like a blacksmith instead of a chef. “Yes, I saw her.” He pointed at Clement. “But whatever she makes, we’re going to pretend to enjoy it.”
“No matter what?”
“As much as we can.”
Brenda called out to them. “It’s almost ready.”
Both men groaned.
Minutes later, Brenda came out with a casserole dish, set it on the table, then left. Clement and Dominic leaned forward and looked at it.
“What the hell is that?” Clement whispered.
“Damned if I know.”
Clement lifted his fork to poke it, but Dominic kicked him and he set the fork down.
Brenda returned with a bowl of vegetables. “You don’t have to wait for me,” she said in a bright voice. “Fill your plates.” She set the bowl down, then left again.
“You first,” Clement said.
“Coward.”
Clement held up his hands in surrender. “I admit it.”
Dominic took a deep breath, then picked up a spoon and cut into the casserole mixture. “It looks like it has spinach, pasta and cheese. Maybe it’s supposed to be lasagna.”
“It doesn’t look like lasagna,” Clement said as he watched the mixture fall on Dominic’s plate.
“It doesn’t look like anything,” Dominic said, putting the same mixture in front of Clement. “But we’re still going to eat it.”
Brenda joined them at the table, her gloves and apron gone. “Good, you’ve filled your plates. Now eat up.”
Dominic picked up his fork. Clement watched in mounting horror until Dominic sent him a warning glance and Clement hastily lifted his own.
Dominic took a bite, hoping he could stomach the entire meal, then stopped. It tasted good. He took another bite just to make sure. “This is delicious.”
“Yes,” Clement said, just as surprised. “When did you learn to cook?”
“I’ve been practicing,” Brenda said with pride.
“It’s a miracle,” Clement said, then winced when Dominic kicked him in the shin. “I mean amazing.”
“Thank you. Are you sure you can’t stay another day?”
Clement shook his head. “No, I’ve got to get a few things done.”
“That’s odd. You packed a lot of things for planning to stay a short while.”
“Uh…yes, well…I just came to check on you and I see you’re doing well.”
Brenda smiled and looked down, missing Dominic’s nod of approval.
That evening Brenda invited Clement to see her studio. She loved being there and wanted to share it with him. She loved the ambience, meeting the other artists in the building, the smell of paint and turpentine, and the scent of sawdust coming from the woodcarver’s studio. She let Clement sit at her drawing table and showed him some of her illustrations.
“These are amazing,” he said. “Why didn’t you pursue this line of work? You are a fabulous biological illustrator. You could make a lot of money, and wouldn’t have to spend your time sweating all day in a lab or searching for funding.”
“I had wanted to pursue my art, but Mom didn’t approve.”
“Mom doesn’t approve of a lot of things.”
“I know, but I understand. She wanted a career in science before she became a stay-at-home mom. She didn’t regret her decision, but encouraged me to pursue her passion. Besides, at that time, she didn’t see a future for me as an artist. And you know how Dad is.”
“Yes.” Clement sighed. “He doesn’t like men who are too soft and women who are too hard.”
“Right, he always told me that I shouldn’t get too educated because men don’t like women who aren’t feminine.”
“Yet despite them you pursued both science and art.”
“I know. Remember, by the time I graduated from high school, Dad had left private industry and accepted a position as a visiting professor at the university in the science department. Since I was the only one in the family interested in the same field as he was, he threw away his own advice regarding the role of a woman, and encouraged me. Throughout my undergraduate years, I got to do illustrations for several of his colleagues and got paid. Although he was proud of my talent, he was proudest of my accomplishment as a scientist. And so am I.”
“That still doesn’t answer why you stopped drawing.”
She thought about her brief freelance career: the disappointments and struggle as she watched Dominic’s career soar. It had forced her to face the fact that there were better artists than her out there. “I just found something better to do.”
“I guess I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“Dominic is good for you if he can bring you back to this.” He gestured to the intricate drawing.
“What did he say to you on the patio?”
“He’d kill me if I told you and I’m starting to like him.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He shoved his hands in
his pockets. “I came up here to think about a few things and I’ve made a few decisions. I’m leaving my job.”
She hugged him. “That’s wonderful. I knew you could do it. What are you going to do next?”
“I’ll tell you when things work out. I guess we’re both making changes in our lives.”
“Yes.”
He lifted an image of Dominic Brenda had on her table. “And sometimes it’s okay to go back to something familiar.”
“One. Two. Three. Catch!” Sonya threw her wedding bouquet to the crowd of eager women fighting for their chance to grab it. Brenda stood to the side, looking regal in a turquoise blue drop-waist sheath dress, with a hand-painted silk shawl depicting an orchid, a pair of transparent three-inch high shoes and her third pair of stockings: ultra sheer shimming gold thigh-highs.
She watched the event in amusement. The wedding had been everything she’d expected and more. The bride and groom had written their own vows, which they sang to each other with the help of one of their friends playing a guitar. Brenda, and everyone there, was pleasantly surprised by the fact that they both could sing.
The color theme for Sonya’s wedding was yellow and blue, and she’d asked everyone to wear these colors. It was an outdoor wedding, held on the grounds of a historical estate. The chairs and tables were decorated with flowers and ribbons, and all the ladies were given white carnations, while the men were given yellow ones.
Sonya looked radiant in an exquisite cream bridal gown with an extremely long veil. The groom wore a dark blue tuxedo trimmed with gold. Luckily, the service itself was short, with only the sniffles of Sonya’s mother heard throughout.
The reception was held directly afterwards and featured a live steel pan band. Brenda was in no mood to dance, but enjoyed watching others. Chuck tried several moves, and bowed out early in the evening. Several men tried hitting on Brenda, most of them much younger than her, but she kept her distance, as best as she could, by always having something in her hand and looking like she was eating.
When Sonya saw Brenda, she introduced her to her entire family as though she were a celebrity. Eventually, Brenda was able to excuse herself and find Chuck and other members of her team to mingle with.
She remembered her wedding day. There hadn’t been a big party—to her mother’s disappointment—because they’d gone to the Justice of the Peace. It had been her happiest moment. She’d looked at Dominic and pledged her life to him and for a brief moment, as she saw the women fighting for the bouquet, she wished to have the chance to be a bride once again.
The shock of the realization surprised her. Marriage had never been in the forefront in her mind until that moment.
Could she marry again? Yes, her heart whispered. She glanced around the room, looking at the available men and felt nothing. Before, she would have been looking for her Ideal Man, but an inner voice whispered that she’d already found him. He’d been there all the time.
It had been two months since Clement’s visit and since then she and Dominic had gone out together and she’d been able to handle being in his presence again. Yes, she could marry him.
But what if he never asked her? Would this affair be enough for her? And if he did ask her, would she say yes? Could things be different this time? Or would marriage change everything as it had before?
“Why didn’t you try for it?” a man said next to her. She turned and gasped in horror. It was Wallace, the coffeehouse bore.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. She’d only meant to think it, but the words burst from her mouth.
Wallace smiled, assuming her surprise meant she was glad to see him. “I’m a friend of the groom.”
Poor Robert. “I see.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you again. I’m sorry about how things ended the last time we saw each other.”
“I thought it was fine.”
He looked hopeful. “You mean you didn’t mind the way I spoke to him?”
Brenda furrowed her brows. “Him?”
“Yes, Ayers. I know I was a bit brusque with him. I hope he doesn’t hold any hard feelings. I’d hate to upset him in anyway.”
“Why?”
He cleared his throat. “Well…because I was hoping you could put in a good word for me.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re seeing him. I’m working on this great idea that I know he’d be interested in funding and…”
She didn’t hear the rest. She’d heard it before numerous times and it only reminded her of what being Dominic’s wife’s meant. It meant going to award banquets in his honor, being asked about his work instead of hers, it meant being invisible again.
“I thought I told you to schedule it for next week,” Dominic told Thomas as they walked down the corridor of Ayers Corporation. “Today I was planning to take Brenda out.”
“Nope, it’s today. Sorry, we must have gotten our communication mixed up.”
Dominic pushed the door to his reception office open with such force that Natalie jumped. “You know that’s been happening a lot lately.” He stopped and looked at Thomas. “I would hate to think it was on purpose.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
Dominic stared at him for a long moment. “I’m beginning to wonder myself.”
“It’s going to be a short meeting. I’m sure Brenda will understand. Just tell her it’s my fault.” Thomas pointed at Natalie. “Call Brenda and tell her that Dominic will be running a little late. Then order some flowers and have them delivered.” He turned to Dominic. “She’ll be putty in your hands when you arrive.”
“Don’t send her flowers,” Dominic corrected.
“Send her candy then,” Thomas told Natalie.
Dominic shook his head. “No, she’s not into them. I’ll send her something else later.”
Thomas glanced at his watch. “Come on. Let’s get the folder so we can leave.”
Dominic disappeared into his office, then emerged holding a manila folder. “Okay, let’s go.” They left the reception room and were halfway down the hall when Natalie came running after them.
“Dominic!”
He spun around. “What?”
“It’s Brenda—she sounded funny on the phone.”
“Funny how?”
“Distracted as though she wasn’t really paying attention. That’s not like her.”
“No,” Dominic said, understanding her worry. “It’s not.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “She’s probably just annoyed that you cancelled. Come on, Dominic.”
“Please, Dominic,” Natalie said. “I think you should talk to her. I still have her on the line.”
Thomas tapped his watch. “We have to get to our meeting.”
Natalie glared at him. “Brenda’s more important.”
“Brenda can handle things herself. Dominic, we’ve got to go. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Dominic looked at Thomas, then Natalie and made a decision. He handed Thomas the folder. “Go without me. I’ll meet you there,” he said, then ran back to the office. He grabbed the phone. “Brenda?”
“Dominic?” she said, confused. “I was just talking to Natalie before she put me on hold.”
“Yes, she came and got me. Is something wrong?”
Brenda hesitated, then said, “I didn’t think so at first, but now I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
“There’s a funny smell.”
“Like what?”
“Like gas, but it couldn’t be gas. It’s something else.”
He gripped the phone. “Like what?” She gasped and his blood ran cold. “Brenda?”
“Oh no. Oh my God.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 13
Controlled chaos greeted Dominic as he drove close to Brenda’s house. Firefighters rushed in and out of the house, EMTs checked for victims, while the police fought to keep spectators at bay, but he didn’t care about any of them. He just wanted to make sure Brenda
was okay.
“Sir,” a police officer said, blocking his path. “You have to stay back.”
“I just need to know that she’s okay.”
“You’ll find out soon.”
“I want to find out now.” He searched the area for a sight of her.
“Don’t force us to arrest you.”
“I don’t care. I live here and I want to see my wife. Brenda!”
“I’m here!” a voice said. It was the sweetest sound he could have ever heard. She ran up the driveway toward him and he pushed passed the annoyed officer and gathered her in his arms. He closed his eyes, blocking out the house, the crowd and the noise, he just wanted to know that she was there safe with him in his arms.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. An early autumn leaf fell from a nearby tree and danced across the lawn.
He knew he was holding her too tight, but somehow he couldn’t let go. The last few moments had been hell, all the nightmares he’d imagined flashing through his mind, each one becoming more and more tragic.
“Please take me away from here.”
He relaxed his hold.
“I will.” He glanced up at the house; he saw the smoke and firefighters but didn’t see any sign of burning. “What happened?”
“It was the water heater. It must have malfunctioned. They said it wasn’t installed properly.”
He staggered back as though he’d been shot. The water heater he’d had installed had nearly killed her?
“It probably had an error,” she said quickly, seeing how her words hurt him. “This isn’t your fault.”
That wasn’t good enough, he needed answers. He walked up to the Fire Marshall. “What’s going on?”
“The water heater was most likely defective,” he said. “It should never have been installed in the first place. But that’s not all, there was no certificate evident.”
“Certificate? What type of certificate?”
