by Sylvia Nobel
I grinned. “Say no more.”
“Gimme five and I’ll meet ya out front.” She scurried down the hallway and I smiled to myself and thought as I had many times these past eight months how lucky I was to have found a loyal friend like Ginger King. It had been her idea to have an engagement party in the first place, and she was so pumped that she’d insisted on assuming responsibility for the lion’s share of details involved in the planning—extra details that I couldn’t seem to wedge into my tight schedule.
Chicken potpie. My usually robust appetite, dulled by the tense exchange with Tally earlier, returned with a vengeance that sent my belly into a series of squeaky spasms. Best eat a hearty meal now because I had a feeling I’d be too stressed out to eat again before driving out to the Starfire Ranch for my five o’clock rendezvous with Tally. I shrugged into my windbreaker and hauled my purse from the bottom desk drawer. By the time I got to the reception area Tugg’s daughter, Louise, was positioning the headset over her short, dark curls. She issued me a full-toothed grin while chirping, “Good morning, Castle Valley Sun.” I smiled back. Luckily for us she’d agreed to help out in a pinch by assisting Ginger at the reception desk and temporarily holding down the fort in classifieds until we had news of our absent—and much missed employee— Lupe Alvarez. She’d been deported back to Mexico where she awaited word on her application for legal immigration. I still suffered a measure of guilt knowing that my involvement in the mind-boggling story I’d broken only weeks ago had made me partially responsible for her deportation. We’d all been heartened when our new publisher, Thena Rodenborn, had agreed to hire an immigration attorney to help expedite her case.
My mouth dropped open at the sight of Ginger bundled into a bulky coat, hat, scarf and fur-lined boots. “Good grief, Ginger, it’s not that cold outside. This isn’t Alaska.”
“Speak for yourself, darlin’,” she sniffed, pulling on a pair of bubblegum pink gloves. “Wait ‘til you been here a while longer. Pretty soon when it drops below seventy degrees you’ll be huntin’ for a sweater like the rest of us.”
Once outside, I had to admit it was chillier than I’d expected. When a strong gust of icy wind grabbed a handful of my hair and slapped it across my face, I zipped the windbreaker a little higher and stuffed my hands into the pockets. Watching the parade of fluffy white clouds sail across the sky, I couldn’t suppress a pang of sadness when I thought about the plight of Judge Gibbons. Even though Tally had told me he was in excellent physical shape for age sixty-two, what were the odds that he could still be alive after almost two weeks in the elements? I chastised myself again for appearing to be unsympathetic in Tally’s eyes. I’d make it up to him later.
I found the cold weather bracing, but Ginger’s teeth were chattering like a pair of maracas after we’d walked the three blocks to the Iron Skillet. Pushing inside the double glass doors, a wall of warm air saturated with animated conversation and clanking dishes met us as we threaded our way through the crowded restaurant answering the friendly waves and greetings of local townspeople. The appetizing aroma of oil-drenched French fries lifted my spirits as we slid into a booth. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?” I asked, peeling mine away and setting it beside me on the red vinyl seat.
“N…n..nnnnot y…yyyyet,” she replied, still shivering as she plopped the files onto the table while eyeing the laminated menu with appreciation. “Besides the potpie, I might just order me a bowl of hot vegetable soup to soak my feet in.”
For the first time that day I laughed out loud. “Ginger, you’re priceless.”
“Of course I am.” She glanced around the room and then turned back to me, her freckled face suddenly alight with mischief. “Here comes Lucy. Quick now, wave your hand around so she don’t miss seeing that big ol’ rock on your finger.”
Crap. I’d forgotten to take my ring off again. Outside of staff members, only a handful of people in town were aware of our engagement. Looking back, if I’d known our announcement was going to be put on hold, I’d have never told my loveable but gossipy pal. True to her character, she was unable to resist the idea of tormenting the sultry-eyed woman who’d spent the past twenty-five years pursuing Tally’s affections. I shot her a warning look. “I know it’s killing you, but you only have to keep this secret one more day,” I whispered, dipping my hand into my lap. “Tomorrow you can hire a skywriter for all I care.”
She gawked at me. “Y’all telling Ruth today?”
“Shhhhh.”
She clamped her mouth shut as Lucinda Johns sidled up to the table, her enormous boobs straining against the buttons of her stained pink uniform as she set silverware and two glasses of water on the table. As usual, she made me feel self-consciously flat, as if I were still wearing my first training bra. “What can I get you girls?” she asked, unsmiling, her voice a sullen monotone. She scribbled our order on the pad, studiously avoiding eye contact with me before turning on heel to slink away. She might as well have worn a sign announcingI’m jealous as hell and I hate your guts.
In the process of extricating herself from coat, scarf and hat, Ginger fluffed her recently dyed strawberry blonde curls and shot me an impish grin. “Man, you ain’t never going to win any popularity contests with her.”
“Ask me if I care what Miss Boobalicious thinks.”
That sent her into another round of giggles. “Okay, out with it,” she demanded, leaning forward, her face alight with anticipation. “I thought you and Tally wasn’t about to spill the beans to his ma about you bein’ betrothed until y’all found out what happened to the judge.”
I hesitated. “We had a bit of a disagreement about that and I kind of insisted we get it over with tonight.”
She rolled her eyes. “Disagreement my size eight foot! For pity’s sake, are you two squabbling again?”
“Not really. I feel like I’ve set a world record for patience, but he thinks I’m being unsympathetic because I don’t think it’s wise to wait any longer.”
“I’m with ya on this one, honey. Time’s a wastin’.”
“I hate to even say this aloud, but…what if the poor guy is never found? He wouldn’t be the first person to disappear into the hinterlands of Arizona. It seems like people vanishing into thin air constitute half the stories I’ve filed since I moved here.”
Curiosity danced in her eyes. “Have you two rehearsed how you’re goin’ to break it to her?” she asked, chewing on a soda cracker, obviously relishing the drama of the impending confrontation. “How do you think she’s goin’ to take it?”
I grimaced. “Badly. That’s why I think our announcement should be short and sweet and soon.”
Ginger nodded agreement. “You got my vote. That way Tally won’t have time to change his mind and you can get a runnin’ start out the door before she’s got time to throw somethin’ at ya.”
“That and I think it would be a total disaster if she hears it from someone else first. That’ll really cook my proverbial goose.”
The faint frown lines on her forehead deepened. “At least you’re lucky she don’t drive.”
“That’s true. She doesn’t get into town that often but remember, Jake knows and so does Ronda.” I felt fairly confident that Tally’s longtime ranch foreman would keep his mouth shut, but I wasn’t so sure about Tally’s younger sister, whose best friend just happened to be Lucinda. Ronda was always cordial, but also didn’t seem overly excited about having me for her sister-in-law. Perhaps she was wishing it would be Lucinda instead. “It’s just a matter of time before something slips out. I want to get this squared away tonight, so if his mother decides to go mental on us, hopefully she’ll have time to recover before my family arrives.”
Ginger reached for the pile of folders. “Dumplin’, I’m with you a hundred and fifty percent. Alrighty then. You got a passel of decisions to make so let’s get started.” She pushed the salt, pepper and napkins against the wall and set a book of sample invitations in front of me. “You can take this home and ta
lk with Tally about design, color, paper texture, fonts and how y’all want ‘em worded. Here’s a bunch of menu suggestions. Also, we got to think about what kind of flowers to get, oh, and you need to decide whether to hire a band and if not, here’s the names of a couple of DJs—”
The multitude of details gave me an instant headache. “Ginger, wait. I just can’t make— ”
Ignoring me, she continued, “…and here are some spiffy ideas for cake decorations,” she said spreading a sheaf of papers before me. “Ain’t they purty? And then there’s table centerpieces…Oh! And guess what else? Last night, Doug was talkin’ to me about this lady artist named Myra…” she mumbled, running her finger down one sheet. “Yep, here we go. Colton. Myra Colton. I’ve seen her work and it’s real good! She lives up yonder in Yarnell and—”
“An artist?” I interrupted, unable to quell my rising irritation. “Why are we talking about an artist?”
“Because Doug told me that she also carves knock ’em-dead ice sculptures! So, I was a thinkin’ maybe we oughta—”
“Ginger, stop!”
She froze, gaping in surprise. “What’s the matter?”
“I…listen, I just can’t make any big decisions right at this moment. There’s…well, I’ve got a lot of things on my mind. I’m sorry. I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble, but…” I pushed my hair back and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “To be truthful, a big part of me would rather not even bother with this engagement party.”
Ginger’s face went stark white. “Well, geez Louise,” she cried. “What are you sayin’, girl? Have you gone and changed your mind about marrying Tally?”
2
My heart jumped when a couple of nearby diners turned curious faces towards us. “Ginger!” I whispered fiercely. “Keep it down.”
She pinched her lips shut. “Sorry.”
I leaned in closer. “Don’t misinterpret me. I’m not saying I don’t want to get married. I asked him to marry me, remember? The problem is Ruth. She’s a cantankerous old woman and I hate the idea of groveling for her permission. We’re not underage teens, for Christ’s sake. Tally just turned thirty-four and I can’t even believe that I’m going to be thirty next year.”
“I hear ya,” Ginger remarked, appearing thoughtful. “But, sugar pie, you’d best remember what Nona always says, ‘a man who treats his ma like a queen will most likely treat you like one too.’”
I couldn’t help smiling at her grandmother’s homespun wisdom. “I know he’ll be a lot happier if we have her blessing, but don’t you think it would be simpler for everyone involved if we…well, eloped to Las Vegas or something?”
Ginger’s mouth fell open. “But…but what about your folks and the rest of your kin? You’re goin’ to disappoint a whole bunch of people who are all looking forward to this party.”
“Admit it, Ginger, you’re far more enthusiastic about the whole wedding scene than I am.”
“Well, what of it? Listen to me, girl, I’d be down on my knees thanking the good Lord right now if Doug would pop the question. I was kinda hoping that maybe if he sees how happy you and Tally are a little bit of the magic might rub off on him.” She narrowed her eyes. “I think the question of the day is why ain’t you more excited? Is it because you was married before?”
“No, I don’t think that’s it.”
“Okay then, it’s gotta have something to do with you getting your butt kicked by that no good rat, Grant what’s-his-face.”
“Jamerson,” I filled in morosely, staring off into the distance. Heartache and utter mortification returned full force as memories of his sordid, behind-my-back affair with one of my co-workers at the Philadelphia Inquirer came flooding back. Following on the heels of my divorce and the move from my dad’s small hometown newspaper to the big time in Philly, I’d fallen hard for my mentor, Grant Jamerson. Not only did I admire his abilities as a top rate investigative journalist, his blonde good looks and vibrant sense of humor had captivated me from the moment our eyes had locked. I’d been truly nuts about the guy. It was hard to believe that this time last year we’d been engaged. “Look, I can’t think of anything I want more than to be Tally’s wife, but…I still don’t think his mother is ever, I mean ever going to get over the fact that I look so much like you know who.”
She nodded solemnly. “I know it ain’t nice to speak ill of the dead, but Stephanie was a no-good, conniving, two-timin’ little bitch. You ain’t nothing like her at all.”
Her reference to Tally’s late wife mirrored that of most people in town who had ever crossed paths with her. But Tally’s mother harbored a very special, very bitter grudge, believing that Stephanie’s despicable behavior and volatile temper tantrums had been the cause of her husband’s fatal heart attack. “Tally is sticking to his theory that she’ll eventually accept me for who I am, but frankly I think it’s going to be disastrous having two Mrs. Talversons living under the same roof.”
Her brows hiked up in surprise. “So, you finally made up your mind.”
“About what?”
“Changing your name.”
I grimaced, remembering how much I’d disliked my former married name. Prigge. A large percentage of people I’d met referred to me as Kendall Piggy. And some of the misspellings on mail I’d received had been downright hilarious. “It remains a major source of friction. Tally insists that I be Mrs. Bradley James Talverson. Period. No keeping O’Dell for professional reasons or even O’Dell hyphen Talverson. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m ready to do that.”
“Why not?”
“I guess it’s an independence issue.”
Ginger’s nostrils flared. “Well, get over it, darlin’. It ain’t like we got a lot of time to plan this party and you sure don’t want to be scrappin’ with your intended the whole time over something as petty as that.”
“Really? Do you think I’m being petty?”
“Just a mite. Here you’ve gone and landed yourself one of the nicest, richest, finest-looking and certainly most eligible men in the whole dang county and you’re busy havin’ a hissy fit over whether or not to change your last name. Well, excuse me, we should all be so fortunate.” Her stern look of censure served to remind me of the promise I’d made to myself to cherish this man’s love and to address my numerous shortcomings.
“You’re right. From now on I’m going to…oh shit, here comes Lucinda.” Ginger tossed me an anxious look before she swept the incriminating evidence of our impending nuptials onto her lap. I had to suppress a chuckle at her attempt to appear nonchalant as Lucinda set the steaming bowls of chicken potpie onto the table. “Can I get you gals anything else?” she asked, hands on ample hips, her suspicious glance bouncing between the two of us.
“I think we’re just hunky dory,” Ginger responded with a happy lilt in her voice. “This smells mighty fine.”
It was more than fine. In was in fact, the best chicken potpie I’d ever tasted. After scooping out the last savory bite of tender crust, it was an effort not to lick the last drops of gravy from the bottom of the bowl. We ran out of time to reach any decisions concerning the engagement party, so I paid the bill, and after stopping to chat with a few of the locals, we pushed outside into the invigorating wind. On the way back to the office, I thanked Ginger for all the work she’d done to date and she seemed mollified when I promised her that we’d get together soon to finalize the details.
The remainder of the afternoon flew by at a record pace, probably because it was so busy but mostly because my heart grew increasingly heavy as the sun dipped towards the horizon. The dreaded face-off with Tally’s mother loomed large. I gave myself a needed pep talk. Stay focused, stay upbeat, and don’t be intimidated by the woman’s hair-trigger temper and erratic mood swings.
Tugg was still at his desk when I waved good-bye and headed home driving the green pickup truck Tally had loaned me. My precious blue Volvo, a casualty of my last assignment, had been stolen, stripped and abandoned in the southern Arizona desert.
The incident still pained me. Damn, I’d loved that little car. Babied and pampered, it had served me well throughout four snowy Pennsylvania winters, during the long cross-country drive last spring and since then, the thousands of miles spent traversing Arizona. The scheduled trip to Phoenix last weekend in search of a new car had also been postponed while Tally joined the search for the judge.
Much of the snow had melted during the daylight hours, and now as dusk descended, the remaining patches scattered in the vast desert landscape flanking Lost Canyon Road appeared lavender in the afterglow of the setting sun. I stole a glance at my watch, feeling the crunch of time. If I hurried, I’d have just enough time to shower, change clothes and feed Marmalade. Thoughts of my new kitten cheered me. I had never really fancied myself a cat person until she’d come into my life two weeks prior. Growing up in Pennsylvania, we’d always owned dogs due to my mother’s severe allergy to cats. I’d worried a bit that exposure to cat fur would aggravate my asthma, but probably because of the new medication, it hadn’t. Now, I couldn’t imagine life without my little peach-colored companion and I wondered how she’d fare at the rambling ranch house at the Starfire in the company of two barking Labs, a new puppy and most recently, Attila, the shiny, black Doberman Tally had adopted following the death of the dog’s owner, another victim of the diabolical story I’d scooped during my stay at the Beaumont ranch in southern Arizona weeks earlier. It was but one more hurdle on my growing list. But right now I had to concentrate on the stressful showdown ahead. And on that subject my mind veered to an incongruous thought. What to wear? Exactly what criteria does one apply when choosing the appropriate outfit in which to appear before a person who totally despises you? What color does one wear while bearing the unwelcome news that you’ll soon be moving into that person’s home?
When I pulled into the driveway, an immediate sense of peace washed over me. I cut the engine, lowered the windows and just sat there allowing myself a moment of solace, listening to the solitary whisper of the wind while taking in the shimmering halo of mauve and crimson illuminating the western skyline. Wow. When I turned to the east, the serrated spires of Castle Rock blazed in vibrant shades of copper and coral before slowly fading to pale salmon in the last remnants of light. Double wow. Another award-winning sunset. I had the urge to applaud as I stepped out into the bracing desert air. As I walked towards the house, I was gripped by an odd sense of melancholy. As elated as I was to become Tally’s wife I knew I would forever miss this cozy ranch house. Funny. Even though I was renting, a strong sense of ownership burned inside me.
