Fit to Be Tied

by Debby Mayne

  “Justin! What are you doing here?”

  He laughs and cuts a glance over to Sara before looking back at me. “I live here.”

  “Oh, I know.” I drop my handbag to the floor and rush over to him for a hug. “What I should have said is why didn’t someone tell me you were coming home?”

  Sara steps out from behind him. “We didn’t know until this morning.” She gives her husband a loving look. “He’s been working so hard at getting better, so they said he could come home early as long as we don’t overdo things.” She lowers her voice. “I have to make him behave, which isn’t so easy with someone as bullheaded—”

  Justin interrupts her with a snicker. “This will be a vacation compared to what they put me through.” He looks at Sara. “Speaking of which, what time is the therapist supposed to be here?”

  “Not until after lunch.”

  “Oh, I thought—” He grimaces and leans against the wall. “I’m still having a little trouble processing things.”

  Sally looks at me with a playful expression. “Which is why he won’t be working on cars for another couple of months, so we’re putting him to work making bows.”

  “That’s not—” I begin before Justin interrupts.

  “I really don’t mind. In fact, I think it’s good therapy for me, and it helps them fill the crazy number of orders they’ve been getting.”

  “He’s actually quite good,” Sally adds.

  “That’s because I’m used to working with my hands.” He pulls away from the wall and goes over toward the sofa. “Why don’t you come on over and have a seat?”

  I have quite a bit on my to-do list, but I need to show support. As I lower myself into the chair next to the sofa where Justin is sitting, I spot a sheet of bubble wrap cluttering the table. My OCD kicks in, so I reach for it, but he grabs it before I do.

  He pops a couple of bubbles before grinning up at me. “Therapy.”

  Sara groans. “You know that drives me insane.”

  Justin tilts his head and then pats the spot next to him. “Come sit down beside me and I’ll stop.”

  “You know I have a ton of stuff to do,” Sara says, her whiny voice reminding me of when she and Sally were little preschoolers.

  He pops another bubble as he lifts his eyebrows and gives her a hangdog look. “Please?”

  She lets out a low growl and plops down beside him, yanking the sheet of bubble wrap from his hands. “I’m gonna talk to your therapist and see if we can find something less annoying for you to do with your hands.”

  Clearly feigned shock washes over his face. “No! Don’t talk to my therapist.”

  I can’t help laughing. “So, what kind of therapist prescribed bubble wrap?”

  “My UPS therapist?” He scrunches his face as he looks back and forth between Sara and me. “Am I busted?”

  Sara stands up and throws a decorative pillow at him. “Afraid so, buster. And just for that, I’m going to tell your real therapist to crack the whip next time.”

  He holds his arms over his head in pretend fear. “No, not the whip.”

  “Yep.” Sara folds her arms and snaps her head in a nod. “Afraid so. You’re not gonna get away with anything around here.” She looks back and forth between Justin and me. “Anyone want some tea?”

  I stand. “No, thanks, sweetie. I need to run.”

  “Wait a minute,” Justin says. “I heard you say something about Marybeth and Bucky. What’s going on with them?”

  Sara waves him off. “You’re just nosy.”

  “No, I want to hear what’s going on.”

  Sally rolls her eyes. “I can’t stand any man telling his wife what to do.”

  “I know that’s true.” Justin laughs. “That’s why I never boss my wife around.”

  Sally shakes a finger at him in a joking manner. “And you better not ever start either, or you’ll have me to answer to.”

  Now that Sally has explained what happened at La Chic, I agree with her wholeheartedly. How dare Bucky micromanage his wife’s wardrobe when he can’t even manage anything about his own life. He was always somewhat belligerent with a few sweet moments thrown in, but ever since money found its way to his bank account, he’s become a flat-out jerk.

  What I feel bad about now is how I’d assumed Marybeth was just as bad. Sure, she took on a condescending tone around the family, but it’s understandable, knowing what she’s had to put up with to stay married to Bucky. Most of us have wondered what on earth she saw in him to begin with, but over time, we assumed it was something we never saw or ever would see, so we quit talking about it. He’s the one who’s blood related, but deep down, she’s the one most of us prefer to claim—that is, until she started acting just as bratty as Bucky.

  “Gotta run, y’all.” I get up and walk toward the door. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

  All the way home, I think about our family and how insane we must look to other people. Fortunately, Justin has known George’s family for most of his life, so he knew what he was getting into when he married Sara.

  I pull into the driveway, hop out of my car, and make my way to the front door. As soon as I open it, I hear what sounds like George speaking on the phone. “No, she’s not home, so I can talk now.”

  I have to admit that I’m amazed by Justin’s progress. If someone didn’t know he’d had such a tragic accident, they might not see anything wrong with him. Right after it happened, the medical team wasn’t sure he’d survive. Then a few days later, after he woke up, the doctor thought he’d be okay but said it would take a long time—maybe many months—before he’d be able to walk and talk like normal. Now, after only six weeks, they’re discussing letting him go back to work soon.

  It’s hard to imagine why he’d even want to work on cars again, but he does. When Sara and I argue with him, he claims it’s in his blood and says he might as well die if he can’t do what he loves to do. Sara is worried, but she’s taking his side, so I don’t even bother trying to reason with him.

  “Should I wear the red shirt or the orange one to the family reunion?”

  I glance up and see Justin standing at the door of our workroom. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Sara says you’ve become quite the fashion expert, so I thought you’d know.”

  Justin clearly doesn’t get the fact that Sara is being sarcastic, so I shrug. “It really doesn’t matter.”

  He walks into the room and holds the orange one up to his chest. “Just give me your opinion. This one?” He switches them out and holds up the red one. “Or this one?”

  I keep my focus on the layers of ribbon in front of me as I point to the first one he held up. “That one.”

  “You’re not even looking at me.”

  “Yes, I was. Wear the orange one.” Now that the ribbon is the length I need, I pick it up and start wrapping it.

  “Are you sure it doesn’t make me look washed out?”

  I glance up from the bow I’m constructing and narrow my eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother-in-law?”

  A hurt look comes over his face. “I’m just trying to impress your family.”

  I make a face. “Since when?”

  He puts both shirts down on the table by the door and walks even closer. “Look, Sally, you might not have noticed this, but some of the people in your family look down their noses at me.”

  “That’s their problem.” I’m sure he’s right, but who cares what they think? I don’t know anyone better than Justin to be married to my sister, and if they don’t see it, they shouldn’t matter.

  He contorts his mouth. “I also don’t want them to think the accident affected me.”

  “But it did.”

  He shrugs. “Maybe so, but they don’t need to treat me like I’ve lost half my brain.”

  He clearly needs to have this conversation, so I put down the bow and turn to face him. “What makes you think they’ll do that?”

  “I don’
t know.” He lowers himself into one of the chairs. “It’s just that this whole thing has been so frustrating for me. I want to fit in with your family, and it seems like everything is stacked against me.”

  I ponder that for a moment. “Justin, this is probably the most important thing I’ll ever say to you.” I pause and smile. “You don’t want to fit in with my family. You’re unique and someone they should try to emulate. Not the other way around.”

  A slow grin spreads across his face. “You really think so?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t know anyone else who would have worked as hard as you to recover from what could have been tragic.” I shrug. “A lot of folks in my family would have given up and expected to be waited on for the rest of their lives. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.”

  “I did it because I love your sister and that baby she’s carrying. I want to be a good daddy and show my son or daughter the world.”

  I have to fight back the tears that threaten to fall. “There is no doubt in my mind that you’ll be the best daddy ever.”

  Sara appears at the door. “Hey, what’s going on in here?”

  “We were just talking.” I stand up. “I’ve been sitting here long enough. Why don’t you take over for a little while so I can go for a walk? I need to get some exercise.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I shrug. “Just around the block. My back is starting to hurt.”

  Justin turns to Sara. “She wants to go walk past her new condo.”

  “Looks like I might not get it. Jeanine is acting so weird I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.”

  “You can stay here as long as you like,” Sara says as she turns to Justin. “Right?”

  He nods. “Yeah, it’ll be fun. We’ll have a built-in babysitter and not even have to worry about taking you home when we get in from our dates.”

  “Since you put it that way, I think I’ll go put some pressure on her to let me have the place as soon as possible.”

  Justin laughs first, and a few seconds later, Sara lets out a shaky chuckle. He seems to get my humor even better than my own sister does—at least now that she’s super hormonal.

  I leave them in the workroom and head on out. It’s an unseasonably warm day, so I push my sleeves up as I start my walk.

  I’ve walked about twenty feet when my phone rings. It’s Mama, so I answer it.

  I don’t have a chance to say a word when she blurts, “Your daddy wanted to go on a cruise instead of the reunion.”

  “Well? Are you going?” I stop walking.

  “No, I told him we can’t do that, since I’ve already committed. Besides, I’m trying to help plan this, and I don’t want to drop the ball.”

  “Mama, they can manage without you.”

  “The timing still isn’t good for me.” She pauses. “I’m still happy that’s what he’s been up to.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I overheard him talking to someone on the phone, and it sounded mighty suspicious. I thought—”

  “Please don’t.” This is something I don’t want to hear.

  She sighs. “At any rate, I think it’s sweet that he wanted to surprise me, but I’m glad I caught him before it was too late. He was trying to reschedule the nonrefundable trip. You know how I am about wasting money.”

  “Yes, I certainly do.”

  After we get off the phone, I resume my walk. I’m about twenty feet from the edge of Jeanine’s condo when I hear my name. I turn around, and there she is. I’m not sure what to say or how to act, so I just lift my hand and wave.

  Jeanine shades her eyes from the sun. “Can we talk?”

  I glance around and then look at her again. “Now?”

  “Yeah, before I chicken out.”

  I’m not sure this is such a good idea, but I nod. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

  “First, I want to apologize for acting the way I have been. It’s just that I never thought . . . well, I always thought everything was fine and would continue to be that way forever.”

  A strange sensation prickles the back of my neck. I’m tempted to turn and run, but she clearly needs to talk, so I stand there staring at her, hoping the feeling passes.

  “If I don’t do something soon, I risk losing everything, including my job.” She glances down at the pavement and sheepishly raises her gaze to mine as she gestures toward an older-model Chevy. “I lost the Jag, and this is all I can afford.”

  “I’m sorry.” Deep down, I don’t think the Jaguar is all that big a deal or even what’s truly upsetting her, but she’s clearly distressed over it.

  “Thank you. That was the car of my dreams, so Dean bought it for me.”

  “Dean?”

  She nods. “Yeah, that’s the guy who gave me the other house—the one I’m still living in.”

  “Oh.” I still don’t know who she’s talking about or what house she lives in, but I don’t want to pry.

  She holds up a key. “I still have this. Want to go inside where we can have some privacy?”

  Now I’m nervous. What if she does something when we’re alone? I remember that the last time I was around her, she acted really strange.

  “Please?”

  Well, I am curious. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. I need to get back and finish some work. My sister and her husband are expecting me.” At least now she’s aware that someone is expecting me. “I’d hate for them to have to go looking for me.” Okay, I tell myself. I’ve already driven that point home.

  “It won’t take long. I just need someone to talk to.”

  As soon as we walk into the condo, she bursts into tears. “I thought we had everything going for us. I loved him, and I assumed he loved me . . . at least he told me he did. But then when I started pressing to find out when he was planning to make our relationship more permanent, he . . .” Her chin quivers as she looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and tears streaming down her face. “He told me his wife won’t give him a divorce.”

  I gulp. “His wife?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I met him after they were separated. He said he’d filed for divorce, but now I know that was all a lie. I’ve been a . . .” She sniffles again. “I’ve been the other woman for more than a year. I can’t believe how stupid I was to believe him.”

  This is so far out of my realm of understanding that I don’t even know what to say. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Why would you be sorry?” She gives me an incredulous look.

  “I hate when people have problems.”

  She belts out a sardonic laugh that completely catches me off guard. “Have you always been this naive?”

  I still can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. After Puddin’ has advised me to have a heart-to-heart talk with Kyle about my feelings, I go and do just that. I thought it would be a back-and-forth conversation and we’d wind up coming to some sort of agreement. I expect disappointment and hurt, but no, that’s not what I get from him.

  “We don’t have to date, but will you at least sit next to me during the final exam?” he asks without missing a beat.

  “What? Why?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I can’t fail sociology, and you’re my only hope.”

  “But sit next to you—?” Then it dawns on me. He wants to cheat. “I’ve helped you study. Why on earth would you want to cheat?” Then I go off on a tangent, letting him know how important it is to me to do the honorable thing and actually study for the test.

  I’ve barely told him my feelings when he starts laughing at me. “Coralee, you’re not as bright as you think you are. Yeah, you’re good in sociology and English, but in real-life matters, you’re pretty clueless.”

  “I’m not only not into being a cheater, I don’t want to date one either.” I want to make it very clear where I stand. And I have a deep need to be the one to blow him off. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

  “Maybe not.” The smirk on his
face makes me sick to my stomach.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying, Kyle?”

  He shakes his head. “You still don’t get it, do you? If I could have afforded to hire you, I would have, but I had to figure out some other way to get your help.” He gives me a pitiful look. “That’s the only reason we were dating.”

  It’s not that I’m all that heartbroken about losing a boyfriend. I’m just furious and hurt that I allowed myself to be used like that. “That’s all the more reason I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  I start to walk away, until he places his hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t really mean that, Coralee. I’m sorry. It’s just that I say things when I’m hurt, and I don’t have a lot of experience in the romance department.”

  I look at him and shake my head. “Sorry, Kyle, but it’s over.” Then I leave him standing there.

  So now here I am, on my way home from finding out I’ve been played for a fool, knowing someone will ask why I’m so upset. Now that I look back, I realize I should have seen some signs, like the fact that he ignored me until I walked in with what he said was confidence. In actuality, that look I gave him was all he needed to make his first move. There’s no way I’ll be able to talk to Mama about it, and I certainly don’t want Daddy to know, or he might do something to hurt Kyle.

  A blue light in my rearview mirror gets my attention. Oh man, it’s a police officer, and I think he wants me to pull over. A quick glance at my speedometer lets me know my hunch is correct. I’m going sixty in a forty-mile-per-hour zone.

  I pull over onto the shoulder, lower my window, close my eyes, and lean my head back. Can things get any worse?

  I open my eyes in time to see the police officer leaning over and looking at me with concern. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “May I see your driver’s license and proof of insurance?”

  I rummage through my wallet, pull out the cards, and hand them to him. “Am I in trouble?”

  He gives me a half smile. “Do you know how fast you were going?”

  As tempting as it is to lie, I can’t bring myself to do it. “Yes, sir. As soon as I saw your blue light, I looked.”