Mother of the Bride (35 page)

“You have got to be kidding!” Parrish exclaimed with a laugh.

Elvin glanced at his sister. “Are we kiddin', Louella?”

“No, we are not.” She spread her hands and shrugged. “The best I can offer you is the choice of where you'd like Gusto hit you.”

“What do you mean, 'where'?”

“Face, body, arm, leg. Wherever you think you can take a punch.”

“This is
outrageous
!” Parrish roared to his feet. “A travesty!”

“It's the law in Crooked Possum, Missouri.” Elvin pronounced it Mizzou-rah and stood up. “You c'n abide by it or I c'n take you to jail.”

“This no-talent hack hits me twice and your solution to a clearly unprovoked double assault is to let him hit me again?”

“In our opinion it wasn't unprovoked,” Cloris answered. “In our opinion it was justifiable.”

“There is no such thing, madam, as justifiable assault!”

“There is if we say there is, jackass.” Mamie gave Gus a go-for-it swing of her fist. “Have at 'im, Gussie. Belt 'im a good one.”

“Love to, Mamie.” Gus stretched his hand across the table so she could see it. “But I don't think I can right now.”

“Dang.” She frowned at his bruised knuckles and glanced at Louella. “Could we let Gussie hit the jackass
with
somethin'?”

“No,” Louella said firmly, gave Gus a thank-you smile and turned to Elvin. “What do you suggest, Sheriff?”

“A suspended sentence till Gus' hand heals up. With the understandin'—” Elvin shot an I-mean-this-hoss look at Gus and frowned at Parrish “—that you two keep your hands offa each other till this weddin's over. B'lieve that's why you're here, ain't it, Parrish?”

“To give my granddaughter away, yes,” he said stiffly. “The second she's married I'll be on my way back to Cannes. In the meantime, I give you my word, Sheriff, that I will avoid this hack like the plague.”

“I'll give the has-been a wide berth,” Gus told Elvin. To Parrish, he said, “Cydney wants you here, so you can stay. Go find yourself a room that isn't already occupied. And haul your own damn luggage.”

“Ladies.” Parrish nodded to them. “Sheriff,” he said to Elvin.

He ignored Gus and strode out of the dining room.

“Make you a poultice for that hand, Gussie,” Mamie offered. “Sure would like to see you coldcock that jackass 'fore he leaves.”

Somebody ought to coldcock you, Munroe,
his inner voice said.
What d'you mean you can't think of a soul to invite to the wedding?

“Don't remind me,” Gus snapped. “I mean, that reminds me. There wasn't time to mail invitations, but you're all invited to Aldo's wedding next Saturday. The whole town, spread the word. It's three o'clock. Maybe four. I'll check with Cydney and let Elvin know.”

“Ooh, a wedding!” Cloris clapped her hands. “I just love weddings!”

“Thank you, Gus.” Louella gave him a misty-eyed smile. “I don't think we've all been up to Tall Pines since Phoebe passed, Lord rest her.”

Five years. My God. Gus felt small and mean-spirited. Like Parrish, like he'd had his head stuck in a hole—or up the butt of his own misery—until Mamie winked and said, “I'll bring a li'l somethin' for the punch.”

“You do that, Mamie.” He laughed. “Louella, Cloris, thank you.”

“I don't think we accomplished much.” Louella gave her teammates a hard look. “But you're welcome, Gus.”

“I need a favor,” he said to Elvin. “My car's in Branson. Could you run me in to pick it up?”

“Sure thing, hoss.”

“Let me tell Cydney. Be right back.”

Gus raced up the back stairs. Maybe she'd want to ride along, get away from her old man. He could buy her dinner, maybe some lingerie. He tapped on her door and called her name but she didn't answer. Domino did, from the room across the alcove at the end of the hall, sliding into the doorway in a short, silk robe that showed lots of leg below and lots of bosom up top.

“Cindy is not there,” she said.

“
Cydney.
Where'd she go?”

“For the little walk. I loan her my fur and she went.”

So did Gus, with a curt “Thanks,” dashing through the house and out onto the deck. He saw lots of tracks in the snow, mostly deer and coyote. He tried the porch next, went back inside for an old sheepskin jacket in the foyer closet, and jogged out to the garage, then partway down the drive, but there was no sign of Cydney. She could walk to the North Pole on dry pavement and be warm as toast in a sable coat, but she wouldn't get far overland without snowshoes. Under the trees along the drive, the ice-crusted snow was about eight inches deep. In the open, where the almost fifty-degree sun had melted huge chunks of it, the bare ground was a muddy slop hole.

He gave up finally, hiked back to the house and met Elvin by his truck, a big red Chevy 4×4. Louella's dark green Suburban sat next to it, and she and Cloris and Mamie were just coming down the porch steps.

“Findher?” Elvin asked.

Gus shook his head no. “Beats the hell outta me where she went.”

“She'll be fine, Gus.” Louella opened the Suburban's passenger door, lifted Mamie first and then Cloris off their feet and up into the high-rise truck. “Don't worry about her.”

But he did, all the way to Branson and back. He worried that she was stuck in the woods, knee-deep in mud and being circled by a coyote. Or stuck in the house with Parrish, being circled by her father and his bitter tongue. He shouldn't have left her; the Jag could've waited.

It was almost six and almost dark when he got back to Tall Pines. He parked the Jag by the front porch and switched off the engine. He didn't see any lights on in the house, grabbed the bags of Chinese food he'd bought in Branson and dashed up the steps.

“Is that beef and broccoli?”

Gus swung around and saw a lump of fur in one of the Adirondack chairs. “Yeah, it is. I thought maybe this time we could eat it.”

Cydney laughed, straightened her jean-clad legs toward the porch rail and leaned her heels on it. Her white Keds were caked with mud.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Watching the stars come out.”

Gus put the bags by the door, crossed the porch and sat on the arm of her chair. She leaned her head against his side. He ducked his chin and looked under the porch eave at the tiny diamonds of light dotting the gray and purple sky. He smelled snow in Cydney's hair and a reek of perfume from Domino's sable coat.

“How far did you walk?” he asked.

“Not far.” She raised her arms and let the fur sleeves slide past her wrists. “It dawned on me I could be mistaken for a bear and shot.”

Gus chuckled. It wasn't cold, just chilly enough that he could see his breath. “Have you been outside the whole time I was gone?”

“In and out. Louella came back to check on me. Then Elvin showed up to say he'd dropped you in Branson and you'd be home directly.” She tipped her head up and looked
at him, her eyes glistening in the twilight. “Louella said you were worried about me.”

“I was afraid you'd get lost.”

“Oh.” She sighed and turned her head away. “Louella and Elvin moved the piano, just lifted it right up onto the dais in the great room like it weighed nothing. A grand piano.”

“Louella is Crooked Possum's only EMT. I saw her roll a pickup off a guy once. He was pinned underneath it.” Gus slid his arm around her. She resisted for a second, then settled against him. “Still mad at me?”

“I wasn't mad at you. I was just mad period.” She curled her fist on her chin and gazed over the porch rail at the fog beginning to rise off the cooling snow. “I tried to work on my book. I wrote two whole words.”

“That's better than no words. Which two did you get?”

“Chapter Five.”

“Some days it's tough.” Gus kissed the top of her head. “Did Louella tell you how it went with the Crisis Management Team?”

“No. What happened?”

Gus told her, doing his best to mimic Cloris and Mamie. Cydney smiled, then she grinned. At the end, she laughed, then stretched her arms out again and cocked her head at him.

“Domino gave me this coat. I'm not keeping it, but she gave it to me. It belongs to last year, she said. 'Fletch, he will buy for me the new one.' “She frowned and shook her head. “Be damned if I would.”

“Cydney,” Gus said in her ear. “I think your father's impotent.”

“You're kidding!” She flung herself sideways in the chair and stared at him. “That's what you said to him, isn't it?”

“Uh, well—more or less, yeah.” He tensed, waiting for the punch, but she blinked into space for a second, then focused on his face.

“That's why he has to buy Domino a new sable every year, isn't it? Cloris is one sharp little cookie.”

“The real power behind the throne of our mayor, Clovis Figgle.”

“No wonder Dad flew into such a rage when he barged in on us.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “He was
jealous
!”

“That hadn't occurred to me. I thought he was just an SOB.”

“Well, that, too.” She leaned her chin on his knee and looked up at him through her lashes, her amazingly long, amazingly dark lashes. “Want to get naked and eat Chinese food in your bed?”

“Beats croquet.” He shrugged, and she laughed, wrinkled her nose at him, slipped her hand in his and let him help her out of the chair. “By the way, I invited everybody in Crooked Possum to the wedding.”

“Wonderful.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed his chin. “I'll tell Bebe to make sure Louella catches the bouquet.”

chapter

twenty-four

At 9:17 Tuesday morning, Cydney sat on the blue leather sofa in the living room, the one that faced the foyer and the front door. She'd spent half of Monday there, too, sipping cups of tea while she waited for her mother to return from Eureka Springs. Georgette called while Cydney was in the bathroom, naturally, and told Gus she and Herb were staying over one more night so she could bid on a pump organ at an auction.

“Did you tell her Dad is here?” Cydney had asked.

“Doesn't she know?”

“Did we know?”

“Good point. You
think
your sister knew he was coming. But if Georgette doesn't know he's here, then who the hell invited him?”

Gus had frowned at her, then said just as she did: “Bebe.”

This morning Cydney was playing it smart. No tea, just her laptop on her knees. She'd debated calling her mother back yesterday to warn her Fletch was here, but Gus had carried her off to the hot tub. They'd emerged an X-rated hour later to find a message from Aldo on the voice mail. He and Bebe had run into some friends from UMKC in Branson and wouldn't be home until today. Cydney had thought then, at 3
P.M.
Monday, about calling her mother, but Gus had lured her back to the tub, so she still wasn't sure Georgette knew Fletch was at Tall Pines.

She hadn't seen her father or Domino since Sunday. The second time she and Gus had emerged from the hot tub, they'd found an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the island,
the fridge raided, and the kitchen in a shambles. “Looks like raccoons broke in,” Gus had grumbled. More likely, Cydney thought, her father was keeping his promise to Sheriff Cantwell to steer clear of Gus.

Cydney was surprised Georgette hadn't already come through the door. She hadn't heard a peep from her father or Domino yet today, and she'd been here on the couch since 6:30. Gus had shot awake at 5:20, thrown off the covers and grinned at her.

“That's it.” He'd yanked on his jeans sans his boxers. “That's what Max needs to do in chapter twelve.”

She'd struggled groggily up on one elbow and said, “Huh?”

“I'll be in my office.” He leaned one knee on the bed and smacked a kiss on her mouth. “See you later.”

She'd dragged herself into the bathroom, expecting him to join her as soon as he heard the water crank on, but she showered and washed her hair, dried it, brushed her teeth and dressed in jeans and the pink sweater she'd brought with her, all alone. When she stuck her head into his office, she'd seen Gus at his desk. Glasses on, mouth slack and partway open, his attention totally consumed by the PC.

“What?” he said absently, without looking up.

“Urn—coffee or anything?”

“No.” The clip in his voice was distracted, preoccupied, not at all sharp, but it hurt.

When she gathered her things and left, Gus didn't so much as glance up from the cursor spewing out words at Warp 6. That hurt, too.

The impulse to pick up her laptop on her way downstairs was pure I'11-show-you get-evenness, so of course it backfired. She'd been sitting here for the last two hours staring at the words
Chapter Five
on the screen. She hadn't shown Gus a damn thing. She'd shown herself that she was not dealing at all well with the end of their idyll.
There's a news flash,
her little voice said.
I'll alert the media.
Her mother would be back today and Cydney couldn't imagine trying to sneak into Gus' bed with Georgette Parrish, the woman who'd always
known when she'd had her feet on the couch, sleeping three doors away.

At least she'd had an extra day and night with Gus, but she was sure gonna miss beef and broccoli. She'd never be able to look another plate of it in the face after Gus had eaten most of his off her stomach and from between her breasts on Sunday night. Her heart fluttered, but she pushed the image of his mouth nibbling rice and her nipples out of her head.