Replacing Gentry

by Julie N. Ford

  I inserted reigniting candles into the cake. “The boys didn’t want a big party, only a few friends. I figured I could handle it,” I said. “What do you want, Johnny?” His outstretched finger started for the cake. I slapped his hand away. “Get your fingers out of that, it’s for the kids. You’re going to ruin it.”

  “Ruin it?” he questioned. “Looks to me like someone beat me to it.”

  And so the heckling begins. “Shut up, Johnny,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He let out a patronizing laugh. “You, my dear, need to lighten up.” He relieved the cake of a dollop of frosting and depositing it onto the tip of my nose.

  Ignoring the white blob obscuring my vision, I twisted the last candle into the cake before giving him a cold look. “You think that’s funny?”

  He backed out of my reach. “Yes, I do,” he said with a pleased grin.

  A sudden impulse of mischief took hold of me. Picking up the spoon resting in the guacamole, I circled it through the bowl once and then lifted it out.

  “Well then, see if you think this is funny,” I said, snapping the spoon toward him. The guacamole landed in a smattering of green blobs across the front of his white Polo shirt.

  The look of surprise on his face was priceless. I snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right, I do need to lighten up,” I admitted, an unexpected case of the giggles rolling up from my belly. “I really do feel better.”

  Johnny shook his head. “Why did I not see that one comin’?”

  Sinking three fingers into a bowl of bean dip, he brought up a hefty scoop and headed straight for me.

  I backed away a few steps before butting up against the island. “Johnny, I think this little game has gone far enough,” I said as I attempted to make a break for it.

  Catching me around the waist with one arm, he said, “Do you, Marlie? Really? ’Cause I think we’re just gettin’ warmed up.” And he pulled me tight against his chest.

  If I hadn’t been giggling and squirming as his hand danced around the front of me, searching for the perfect spot to wipe my penance, I would have sworn I could feel his heart beating against my back.

  “Let’s see, maybe this should go on your face with the frosting for the bittersweet effect,” he mused aloud. “Or, better yet, down the front of your blouse, saving a little treat for Daniel to find later? Something tells me he’s gonna need it.”

  I couldn’t keep the laughter from my voice as I threatened, “Johnny Hutchinson! I swear, if you put your hand down my shirt I’ll—”

  “Marlie?” a voice reached out to stunt my laughter. “Mister Johnny?”

  I stopped struggling and looked up to see Bridger watching us with a look that said he was seeing something he wished he hadn’t.

  “What are y’all doin’?” Bridger said, his gaze taking a quick turn over Johnny’s food-splattered shirt, my face.

  “Nothing.” I pulled against Johnny’s grip to free myself while he continued to hold tight. “Get off me!” I insisted, and he finally let go.

  “Where’s my father? I thought he was supposed to be here,” Bridger asked, the look on his face shifting to distrust.

  “I’m sure he’s on his way.” I flashed him an overly bright smile. “We’re just about to bring the food out.”

  Bridger’s lip curled disapprovingly. “Good, ’cause everyone’s hungry.”

  Johnny was laughing a wicked little snicker as we made a few trips from the kitchen to the pool area where I’d set up a long table for the food. I wanted to be annoyed with him but truthfully, I hadn’t had a good laugh in a long time and was way overdue.

  “Put the bean dip next to the chips,” I directed Johnny, pointing to the far end.

  Standing back, I studied the layout of the table to make sure everything was in its place. I’d covered the table with a plain blue tablecloth and situated plates and napkins to match at each end. On the ground, I’d placed old-fashioned aluminum washtubs filled with retro bottles of soda and trendy waters. Around the pool area, torches burned ashen smoke into the air, keeping the bugs away while groupings of candles flickered from blue-tiled votives. On a smaller table, a set of mini speakers with an iPod provided the loud thumping lyrics of music. Other than the occasional curse word, I had no idea what the artists were singing about.

  “She was a lot like you, you know,” Johnny said.

  I glanced over at him with a questioning look. “Who?”

  “Gentry.” He absently reached out to adjust one of the platters. “Principled, idealistic, and hard workin’. And just like you, she often found herself in over her head.”

  I puffed out a sigh. “Yeah, but I bet she floundered with much more finesse than me.”

  Johnny smiled. “You’re probably right,” he agreed then watched me a moment longer before turning his gaze to the northern sky. “See that star out there? The one just to the left of Andromeda?”

  “Andromeda?” I repeated, turning to follow the direction of his finger. “The daughter of Cassiopeia who was unfortunate enough to be born pretty and consequently chained to a rock so a sea monster could have her for lunch?”

  “Yep, that’s her.”

  Squinting up at the sky, I focused on a twinkling light sitting apart from the others. The longer I looked at it, the harder it was to see clearly. “The one that’s all alone and discolored?” I said.

  A pleased smile thinned out his full lips. “Beautiful and has a good eye,” he said, and I felt myself starting to blush. “The Andromeda Galaxy is a blue galaxy,” he explained. “That’s a red star. A red star is nearin’ the end of its life span at which time it will explode. And when it does, its brightness will be visible even in the daylight. You see those other stars that are congregatin’ together with Andromeda? They do that because they’re too afraid to stand alone.”

  He lowered his voice like he was telling me a secret. “But in fact, they’re just jealous of the red star.”

  Following his lead, I whispered as well. “Why?”

  He leaned closer. “Because she’s free and they aren’t. And they know that, one day, her brightness will surpass all theirs put together.”

  A bashful smile turned up my hot cheeks. I liked Johnny when he was being nice. I liked the way I felt when he was near. I didn’t know how or why, but it was like he understood me.

  “Hey Miss Marlie, Mister Johnny,” said a cute strawberry blonde with braids and a freckled nose. Her eyes did a swift assessment of the splotches of guacamole on Johnny’s shirt. “You might not remember me, but I’m Emma,” she gestured to herself. “And this is Sammy,” she said, indicating the tall brunette at her side.

  Both girls were very slim in skinny jeans and satiny tanks with plunging necklines. Emma had a sweetness about her while Sammy wore that teenaged the-world-should-worship-me-while-I-detest-it look.

  I sent her a welcoming smile. “Of course I remember,” I said. I might have been mistaken but I think the redhead was, or had been, dating Bridger. “Are you girls having fun?”

  Sammy’s eyes gave the crowd a cursory glance. “Sure, whatever,” she said, lackadaisically lifting a shoulder before turning an appraising glance over Johnny.

  “Everythin’s real nice,” Emma interjected. “I really love these votives. Where did you get them? I want some for my room.”

  Flattered that I’d at least gotten one thing right when it came to this party, I gave her a humble smile. “At this cute little place downtown,” I started, but then noticing that Johnny was returning a look of mild interest to young Sammy, I elbowed him in the side.

  “Ouch!” he said, putting a hand to his ribcage. “What?”

  I played like I had no idea what he was reacting to and went on. “Anyway, it’s just off Broadway in this little—”

  “What is that smell?” Johnny interrupted with his nose to the air.

  The two girls exchanged an awkward look, and I knew something was up. Pulling in a patch of night air, it smelled like dampness mixed with citronel
la as expected. Only as my breath deepened, the air began to sour with a touch of smoke. A weed I recognized but hadn’t been in the company of since college.

  “I don’t smell anythin’,” Sammy said, her expression suddenly turning accommodating. “What do you call this green stuff again?”

  She dipped a delicate pinky finger into the guacamole, and then sucked the dip between her lips while Johnny practically salivated.

  Emma’s smile held a smidge too tight, a second too long, and my suspicions were confirmed. Turning my focus toward the origins of the offensive smell, I headed to the far end of the pool and around a tall grouping of crape myrtles. A few teens were hunkered down on the grass in a circle. Shrouded in the fading sunlight, they were enjoying a cold beer while passing around a tightly-wound, lazily smoking reefer.

  I knotted my fists at my waist. “What do you guys think you’re doing?” I said and to my dismay, Bodie jerked the joint behind his back.

  I rolled my eyes, feeling a sharp pain run across my forehead. “Really? Like I’m not going to figure out what you’re up to when the smoke is rising up from behind your back?” I scolded, my eyes shooting flames of reproach around the circle, and then to Bodie in particular. “And where did you get that beer?”

  Shrugs rolled like an advancing wave across their shoulders. Of course, no one was talking, but then what did I expect? That they’d fight over who would give up the culprit first?

  I held my hands out, palms up, fingers waving. “All right, give it to me.”

  With groans and moans that resounded with variations of “Man, Bodie, I thought you said your step-mom was cool” they handed over the bottles and reefer and dispersed back into the party.

  With bottles looped between my fingers and a smoking joint pinched between the first two fingers of my right hand, I tried not to breath too deep as I considered how best to dispose of the evidence. I’d consider the best way to handle Bridger and Bodie after the party. I’m sure my confiscation of their smuggled goods was already costing them some precious popularity points.

  Upon reemerging into the pool area, I found myself on a collision course with a group of somber-looking adults. It was much too early for any of the parents to be picking up their kids. A deviously pleased look pulled Johnny’s face into a wide grin while the eyes of the others rounded on the contraband in my hands. None of them needed to speak a word for me to know what they were thinking—Daniel’s liberal California wife is finally showing her true colors and taking these innocent children down in the process.

  My gaze closed in on Daniel. I sidestepped to the nearest trashcan and released the bottles to fall in. “I know how this must look,” I said to my husband, the smoke from the reefer swirling up to form a dingy halo around my head. “But I’ve got everything under control.”

  Bridger appeared from the darkness, a flushed little blonde bombshell-in-the-making in tow. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked. An overly innocent look shadowed the guilt on his face as he subtly wiped pink sparkling lip gloss from the side of his mouth. He then tucked the free tail of his shirt into the waistband of his jeans.

  Cooper pushed forward, positioning herself between Daniel and Paul, her eyes stabbing Bridger’s companion. “Clearly, Marlie, you don’t.”

  The teen girl sent Cooper a seductively bashful smile as she readjusted the straps of her tiny tank top.

  “Cooper,” Daniel warned then peeled his serious gaze from Bridger and turned it on me. “Party’s over, Marlie. Go on now and see that all these kids get safely home.”

  “Wait.” I grabbed hold of Daniel’s arm as he turned to walk away. “What happened? You can’t possibly be ending the party because of a few beers and a little weed. I said I took care of it.”

  Daniel pulled away from my grip. “Someone leaked the ball park compromise to the press. So yes, I guess you’re right. I’ve got bigger problems than a few beers and some weed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  As Daniel walked away he gave me one last look. It

  was barely a glance, but in that short instant, he conveyed the depth of his disapproval. These past months, I’d ignored the feeling that Daniel’s family, and social circle, didn’t accept me, because he was there to reassure me of his love and acceptance. But tonight, I was a ship without a rudder, adrift on a stormy sea.

  And so, my heart wracked with disenchantment, I drove partygoers home when they couldn’t reach their parents to come and get them. If I hadn’t been wholly preoccupied with my thoughts, the uncomfortable silence in the car might have bothered me. I might have even cared. And it wasn’t just that the ballpark deal had been leaked—an idea I’d been wholly responsible for—but if it got out that there was alcohol and drugs at the boys’ party, Daniel would have two scandals to deal with. A record, I was sure, not just in politics, but for the esteemed Cannon family.

  Both arguably my fault. Alternating between chewing my lip and my thumbnail, I stepped lightly through the butler’s pantry and peeked around the corner into the dining room. Standing at the head of the antique mahogany table with their heads together were Cooper, Paul, Cooper’s husband, CFO of Cannon Records, and few others I didn’t recognize.

  They spoke in hushed tones, but I could hear phrases like, Who can we count on down at the network if it comes to that? Lose-lose situation. Tarnished reputation forever. And my personal favorite: I knew that marrying that woman would be the biggest mistake of Daniel’s life.

  “Ahem,” was the only coherent sound I could muster. They stopped talking and turned their baleful stares to me. I felt like Oliver Twist holding my bowl out for more gruel. “I was wondering if any of you could tell me where my husband is?”

  Cooper’s expression hardened to repugnance. If it were physically possible to shrink under someone’s stare, I would have withered to nothing.

  “Where have you been?” she asked as if I were a traitorous captain who’d abandoned the sinking ship.

  Contrary to Cooper’s misguided assumption that I had to answer to her, the only people who mattered to me right now were Daniel and the boys. “I had to drive a couple of kids home,” I explained, my gaze lighting defiantly on each of their accusatory stares.

  Cooper shifted her weight. “Please tell us you got them home safely, and in silence,” she huffed.

  Ignoring her last remark, I reiterated, “My husband?”

  Cooper opened her mouth, no doubt to spew more bitterness, but then her husband laid a hand to her arm.

  “He’s in the study talkin’ with the boys,” he said in the calm voice of a negotiator. He was a tall man, at least ten years Cooper’s senior, with salt and pepper hair distinguishly trimmed to accentuate a square jaw and deeply lined features.

  I blinked against the wetness accumulating in the corners of my eyes. “Thank you,” I said and turned to head for the study.

  “Don’t wander too far,” Paul called after me.

  I looked back to his brazen expression, assuming to see more embitterment but instead I clearly caught a hint of satisfaction shining from his rat-eyes.

  “Eventually, we’re going to have to deal with you as well. That is, when we’ve decided how best to spin these situations,” Paul said as if he too half-expected me to make a run for it.

  And for about the tenth time tonight, I considered doing just that.

  The heavy wooden doors to Daniel’s study were closed. The smacking of my party sandals against the checkerboard tile echoed through the vaulted expanse. I slowed to a stop. I was frustrated, angry, sad, overwhelmed, embarrassed . . . take your pick. As I reached for the handles to slide the doors apart, I pulled back when they parted on their own and Daniel emerged.

  My palm slammed onto my chest. “Daniel, there you are,” I said on an abruptly inhaled breath. “Where are the boys?”

  “I sent them up to their rooms,” he said curtly. “They’re on restriction until after baseball camp. No friends, no drivin’, no video games.”

  My worry quickly sh
ifted to irritation. No friends, no video games . . . no driving? How was I supposed to entertain them for the next couple of weeks?

  “Really? So, is that their punishment or mine?”

  Daniel rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Marlie, I don’t have time to get into this with you right now,” he said, his focus shifting to Paul, Cooper, and the others now swarming through the entry, heading right for us.

  Taking me by the arm, Daniel moved me out of the way so they could pass. “Excuse us,” he apologized. “It appears my wife needs a moment of my time. Go ahead and get started. I’ll be right in.”

  The doors silently slid shut behind them.

  Daniel said, “Look, Marlie, I’m sorry I talked to the boys without you, but as you can see I have more than one issue to deal with this evenin’.”

  I took a step back. “So, you chose to deal with the boys first, get them out of the way, so you could move on to more important matters?” I asked. “Those boys are your sons. Your family.”

  After throwing a glance to the tightly closed doors, Daniel took my arm and pulled me to the middle of the entryway. “Yes, I’m aware of how all this could affect my family. But unfortunately, right now, what is happening in my public life has to take precedence.”

  I yanked my arm away from his grip. “Thanks for clarifying where the boys and I fall on your list of priorities.”

  His eyes deepened, as did his tone. “Don’t overreact. I wasn’t exactly expectin’ to have to deal with the fallout from a coed teen party where the adult in charge allowed the children in attendance to have beer and illegal drugs,” he returned the insult with perfect aim. “What were you thinkin,’ Marlie?”

  I took step away from him. “You think I gave those kids beer and weed?” I said, unable to grasp the fact that he would think, even for a second, I’d do something like that. Me, the only parent who was making an effort to do something nice for the boys’ birthday—for his boys’ birthday.