Game of Hearts (10 page)

 

I smoothed down the pink satin dress to keep the pockets from making my hips look big. My stomach jumped with anxiety over the wedding. It didn't help that Matthew had decided today to be a pain in my backside.

"I don't know why you have to bring Brandon with us," he whined.

"I was told I could bring a date. Who do you think I should bring, Rachel?" I let out a deep breath. "This isn't up for discussion. Brandon will be here in less than an hour to drive us to Ponte Vedra."

"You're just bringing him to start trouble."

"Trouble for
whom
? Your father's getting married. I don't think he'll be upset."

"I don't want you to bring him."

This had been ongoing since the night before, and I'd had enough. "Okay. I won't bring Brandon. In fact, I won't go either. I'll drive you there and come back home. You can just tell you father he needs to find a way to get you kids back here." I grabbed the phone from its cradle and held it out to Matthew. "You'd better call him to give him some warning."

"Why do you have to make everything so hard?"

"Stop it right now or you won't go. And when Brandon gets here, I expect you to treat him with respect." I pointed a stern finger at Matthew. "He's never done anything but treat you well, and I expect you to reciprocate."

"He'll never be my father." Matthew stormed to his room and slammed the door.

I plopped down on the sofa.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. And you look beautiful." Sarah's hair was swept up on the back of her head. Wispy strands hung down along her jawline.

"Thanks. Victoria showed me how to do my hair. I wish Wes could see me. So how does my dress look?" She ran her hand across the beige fabric. The v-neck halter worked perfectly on her figure, and it didn't show any cleavage, which made me happy.

"Everything looks beautiful. I guess I'd better finish getting ready." I rose.

"Mom." Sarah took hold of my arm. "Don't worry about Matthew. He just misses Dad being around."

"I know. I wish he'd realize it's not me that's keeping him away."

"I think he knows it down inside. But seeing you with Brandon, and now that Dad's getting married…
it kind of puts a large period on the end of the family."

I pulled her into my arms. She smelled like hairspray and floral perfume. "How are you doing with it all?"

"I'm fine. So's Anthony. We both see how happy Brandon makes you and I know how miserable you were there for a while."

At least two of the kids were on my side. I just hoped they'd feel the same way next month, after I confronted their father about his past child support.

****

The ceremony lasted about twenty minutes. During the wedding, Matthew stood up with Michael as his best man. Afterward, I went up to congratulate the couple. I hoped trouble wouldn't follow me.

"Good luck," I told Patrice. Her white beaded gown shimmered in the overhead lights. I nodded at Michael. He stiffened when Brandon extended his hand, but grudgingly accepted it and gave it a quick shake.

Brandon led me to the reception room with his hand on my back. The tables were covered with rich purple cloths with silver napkins. Of course, having the best-looking man in the room on my arm didn't hurt the décor one bit. I caught a glimpse of Wallace Windsome, III making the rounds. He shook hands and waved as he proceeded forward. He looked older than his picture on the brochure. Perhaps politics and his daughter's wedding had aged him.

"This should be good publicity for his campaign." Brandon leaned over to me. "I bet it'll make all the papers."

"That's a pretty good idea for a politician. Have your daughter's wedding within three months of the election."

My heart thudded when I caught sight of my dad entering the room. He wore his funeral suit. That's what I called it because he'd worn it to every funeral he'd ever attended. He'd also worn it to my wedding.

When he arrived at our table, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "I was surprised when Sarah told me you were here."

"I was invited." Why do I feel like a child again? "Brandon, this is my father Samuel Jacobson. Dad, this is Brandon Nash."

"Nice to meet you." Brandon rose and they shook hands.

"So how much did you have to pay him to come with you?" Dad nudged my shoulder with his hand.

My cheeks warmed as he laughed his cynical laugh. I no longer felt pretty, but instead like a nobody, unworthy of anyone's love. Dad had a way of doing that to me. I'd never understood how hurting someone could be fun.

"She didn't have to pay me a dime." Brandon returned to his seat. "It took me a while to convince her to allow me to escort her. I think she was worried it'd give me ideas."

I couldn't help but grin. My dad nodded and stood there in silence for a few seconds before walking off. Brandon had ruined his fun. Thankfully the bride and groom arrived, and everyone's attention went to food. "Thanks for what you said." I squeezed Brandon's hand.

"I'm going to warn you. I'm not the biggest fan of your father."

"That makes two of us." I paused. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you come with me? We haven't known each other that long, and most men would have found an excuse."

"I came because I enjoy being with you, and I thought you could use some support." He brushed my cheek with his finger. "Why? Don't you think I should be here with you?"

I
averted
my eyes so he couldn't see the mist rising within them. "You could do better." The words came out in a whisper.

"Than what? A beautiful woman who's a hard worker and cares deeply for others? When I look at you, I see a lady whose smile lights up a room." He leaned forward, his breath brushing the side of my face as he spoke in my ear. "No matter how hard life gets, you're a fighter. I think that's a wonderful woman to be with."

"Thank you." My heart swelled from the warmth I felt from his words. "I wish I could see myself like that."

"You can."

"How?"

"Just look into my eyes."

I stared up at him and believed every word he said. Our lips connected. Warmth drew through me. Then someone tapped on my shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mom."

I wanted to throttle my daughter. "Yes, dear?"

"They're getting ready to throw the bouquet. I thought you might want to come try to catch it."

"You go on without me. I'll put my faith in God, not a bunch of flowers."

"Sarah." Brandon stood. "I'm going to take your mom for a walk. Here's my cell—if you're ready to go before we get back, call your mom's number."

She shook her index finger at me. "Do I have to give you two a curfew?"

****

We walked down a path through freshly mowed grass. Trees loomed high over us. Though it was chilly out, I didn't mind. I had Brandon's arm around my shoulder to keep me warm. I'd never felt this good in my life. Please God, don't let anything ruin it.

"Come on." He pulled me off the path into a patch of trees surrounded by water.

"What are you up to?" I loved his playful nature.

"Nothing."

Brandon took me in his arms and our lips met. My hip vibrated. It took me a few seconds to realize the earth hadn't shaken from the intensity of his kiss. I pulled out my cell and glanced at the caller ID. Sarah.

"Yes, dear." Brandon's lips were warm against my neck. My heart beat so loud in my ears I wasn't sure I'd be able to hear her.

"Dad and Patrice are getting ready to leave," Sarah said. "He said we'd better be going too."

"Okay. We'll be right there." I disconnected and nudged Brandon's face from my neck to ensure he heard me. "We have to go."

He pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead. "I really need to talk to that girl about her timing."

When we returned, half the room had emptied. I couldn't believe how fast the wedding had taken place. Most receptions lasted hours, yet it had hardly been ninety minutes for this one. Michael paced in the corner behind what remained of the wedding cake. Patrice patted him on the shoulder. The kids stood at the wall to his left.

"What took you so long?" His jaw tightened.

"We came as soon as Sarah called," I said.

"We have to leave, and I didn't expect someone else to watch the kids."

"It's okay, Michael." Patrice walked up even with him. "We have plenty of time. The ship doesn't leave until tomorrow."

Michael glared at me. "You're trying to ruin the wedding."

No point in arguing. "Come on, kids. It's time to go." I turned to leave, but Michael grabbed hold of my arm.

"I'm not going to put up with you trying to ruin my marriage."

Brandon stepped forward. "Let go of her."

"This is none of your business."

"I said let go of her. Now."

Michael let loose of me and threw a punch at Brandon. He dodged.
T
hen Michael shoved him into me. My arms flailed, but my backside hit the table. Its legs gave way and I slid down as the table slanted up. The top tier of the cake slid over my shoulder and landed in my lap. A purple lily stood at attention on top of my right breast. The remainder of the cake rested on my back.

Gasps, whispers, and giggles sounded from people surrounding us. Brandon rushed over to me. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." This is becoming a habit.

"Michael, look what you did!" Patrice said. She and Brandon helped me to my feet. I slid in the icing.

"I'm sorry." Patrice wiped at the mess on my dress. "He must have had too much champagne. We'll pay to get the dress dry cleaned."

"It's all right." I glanced at Brandon, whose eyes burned with anger. "I'm getting used to taking cake baths."

I did the best I could to clean up before getting to the car. So much for my makeup. The aroma of frosting coated me. Every time I looked at Brandon, he had a smile on his face.

"That was pretty cool, Mom," Anthony said as he buckled his seat belt. "I especially liked it when the cake landed on you."

"I'm glad you had such a good time," I said in a droll voice. Brandon snickered. I smacked his arm. His grin widened.

"I'm just glad it happened after the reception, instead of before." I pulled the visor down. At least I didn't get it on top of my head this time.

Giggles came from the back seat, where Sarah and Anthony laughed about the incident. Matthew sulked in the corner of the car, glaring out the window. I didn't care. I'd had a wonderful day. A little bit of cake wasn't going to ruin it for me.

Brandon held my hand on the drive back home. When we pulled into the driveway, the kids rushed from the car. I heard Anthony say something about not wanting to see two old people kissing. He's a smart boy.

I walked on air as I closed the front door. How could I feel this way about a man I barely knew?

"I can't believe you ruined Dad's wedding like that. I knew that Brandon was trouble." Matthew sneered when he said Brandon's name.

"It wasn't Brandon's fault."

"We wouldn't have had to leave so early if it hadn't been for him."

"What are you talking about? Your dad was obviously ready to go."

"Brandon should have minded his own business,
and
then the cake never would have been destroyed."

"That's enough." I worked to keep my control. "Your father had no right to put his hands on me, and you know it. Stop blaming Brandon for this. Put the blame where it belongs."

Matthew stormed off to his room. Five, six, seven—his door slammed, right on time.

"It's okay, Mom, I like Brandon." Anthony stuck his finger in the sticky mess on my dress. His finger would stick and release, stick and release.

"I do too." Sarah smiled. "And it's obvious how much he likes you. I get the feeling we may have a new step-daddy soon." My cheeks flushed as they walked off, singing, "Mommy and Brandon sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Could Brandon one day be my husband?

 

I had just finished up my last billing for Howard, Hendrix, and O'Brien when the phone rang. Ugh, Michael! Didn't he have a new wife he could be bothering instead of me? I hadn't contacted him yet about his new father-in-law's position on the issue of deadbeat parents, so he couldn't be calling about money. Temptation rose to let it go to voicemail, but I knew it would drive me crazy and I'd have to know what he wanted.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"It's me." Michael spoke in a low tone. "Why'd you answer the phone that way?"

"I'm running my bookkeeping business from home now. What is it you need, Michael? I have things to do." Why couldn't the ship have sunk? No, I didn't mean it. I don't want anything bad to happen to my kids' father.

"I got a call from Matthew late last night. He says he wants to move in with me."

My heart sunk. Did he hate me that bad? Could I be such a terrible mother that my own son wanted to abandon me?

"Deb, are you there?"

"I'm here." My voice quivered. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I needed to speak with you."

I sucked in a deep breath. I had to think of Matthew and what was best for him. "Let me let this sink in. I'll call you back in a bit."

"There's nothing to sink in. I can't have him move in with me. It's no way to start off a marriage with some teenage boy hanging around."

My sorrow became anger in a split second.

Michael continued. "You need to tell him you won't let him go or something. I can't be having the boy moving in and messing things up over here."

I swallowed hard. "No, Michael. If you don't want him to move in with you, you're going to have to be the one to tell him. You're his father. It's time to act like it. He gets home at 3:30."

"What? I can't believe you're making me do this."

"And if you make this out to
be
my fault, I'll call you back while he's standing there and let you know it's okay for him to come live with you. So you'd better come up with a better excuse than me."

I slammed the phone down on the cradle. How dare he not want his son? This should have been good news for me.
I didn't want Matthew to go in the first place. However, I knew the pain it would cause my boy.

The rest of the day trudged by until the sound of the front door told me school had let out. Matthew and Anthony rode the same bus. Sarah would be coming within an hour when Scarlett dropped her off.

"Mom, Mom!" Anthony rushed in. "I got an A on my report on Alexander Hamilton."

"That's wonderful.
How was school for you, Matthew?"

"No big deal." He shrugged.

I jumped when the phone rang. Anthony picked it up.

"Hello?…Hi Dad. Guess what? I got an A on my report in school today
!
…Oh, okay." He handed the phone to Matthew. "He wants to talk to you."

Anthony walked over to me and put his arm around my waist. I gave him a squeeze around the shoulders. I wanted to listen in on the conversation between Matthew and his father, but Matthew headed back to his room. "I'm proud of you," I said to Anthony. "You worked hard on that report and it paid off."

"Can I call Brandon later and tell him?"

"Sure."

I glanced over at Matthew's closed bedroom door. Maybe I should have just told him I wouldn't let him go. It might have hurt him less.

CRASH!

My breath rushed from me. I raced to Matthew's door. Please God, don't let him be hurt. I tried the knob, but it was locked. "Matthew, are you all right?" I knocked and got no answer. "Matthew!"

"I'm fine," a small voice said.

"Let me in. Now."

My breathing slowly returned to normal while I waited in the hallway. A second or two later, Matthew clicked the lock. His table lamp lay in pieces on the floor. A large hole gaped at me from the wall. I glared down at my son. I wanted to tear his head off until I saw tears standing in his eyes.

"Man, I can't believe you poked a hole in the wall." Anthony held his hand over his mouth.

"Anthony, please leave me alone to talk with your brother."

"Okay." He gave Matthew a worried glance,
and
then closed the door behind him.

"Are you all right?" Stupid question, but what else could I say?

"I'm fine." Matthew smacked a hand across
his
eyes. He sat with his knees up against his chest and he faced the wall.

"Your dad called me earlier. He said you wanted to move in with him."

"Don't worry. He doesn't want me." Matthew's voice lowered to a whisper. "No one does."

I swallowed hard to keep from crying as I walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. He didn't need a weepy woman right now. He needed me to be strong. I pulled his chin so he had to look at me. "I want you." I wiped my finger across his cheek, catching a tear that straggled down his cheek.

"No you don't. You've got Brandon now. You don't need me."

"Don't need…?" Tears filled my eyes. "When your father told me you asked to move in with him, I heard a loud thud from my heart hitting the floor."

Matthew stared at the wall behind me.

"I know this has been hard for you. I'm sure at times it feels as if he left not only me, but you as well. I pray one day he realizes it. But until that time, you'll always have me." His lip quivered, and I pulled him into a hug. "I love you, Matthew."

"Even when I'm being a pain?"

"Even when you're being a pain."

He raised himself off my shoulder. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I just don't understand why he doesn't love me anymore."

"He still loves you. I just don't think your dad knows how to act right now." I brushed Matthew's hair from his eyes. "I'm sure one day he'll come around. You just have to be patient."

He nodded.

I kissed him on the forehead,
and
then looked down at the mess on the floor. "Why don't you get the big pieces, and I'll grab the vacuum." I rose from the bed and walked to the door.

"Mom?" Matthew wiped his tear-stained face. "I love you too."

My heart wanted to yell
hurrah
! I chose to keep it inside. Why push my luck?