Season of Sisters (4 page)

"Thank you," Holly said.

"Ma'am?" Justin asked, his hard, narrow gaze never leaving Holly. "If anyone else comes in, would you please explain that this rest room is closed? My friend and I need to talk."

"Um... yes... all right." She didn't see what it would hurt to stand outside the door and redirect traffic. There was another ladies' room upstairs.

Then she rounded the corner into the muted light of the sitting area and discovered it wouldn't be quite that easy. Dressed in her wedding finery, Maggie Prescott sat on the lounge's sofa bent over double. She was sobbing, of course. She used the tissue from inside the wedding gown box to blow her nose, then said, "Mike and I were young like those two, a long, long time ago."

"My oh my." Grace sighed and mentally muttered the expression she'd picked up from her granddaughter. What had made the ladies' lounge Drama Trauma Central today?

Reflected in the full-length mirror, Grace could see both the middle-aged bride and the twenty-something lovers. As she watched, Holly wiped her mouth on a brown paper towel and turned toward Justin. "Please don't be angry."

He sighed, then stepped toward her, reached out, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not angry. I'm just... well... I guess I am angry. I knew you might be surprised, but I didn't expect... well... I didn't think I was asking that difficult a question."

"Oh, Justin. It
was
a difficult question. The most difficult of all. I didn't see it coming and I wasn't prepared."

"I don't understand."

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. "Justin, please. You're making this harder than it needs to be."

His arm, still outstretched, abruptly dropped to his side. He cleared his throat. "Are you turning me down?"

"Why do we have to change?" she asked earnestly. "I've been so happy with you. Can't we leave things the way they are?"

"The way they are?"

She offered a tentative smile and a pleading gaze. "We can skip the fishing bait show. We could take a carriage ride through downtown instead. It's a beautiful day. Maybe we could have a picnic in the park, fly kites."

"This isn't about picnics," he snapped. "It's not about today. It's about tomorrow. Our tomorrow."

Holly turned away, grimacing.

Seated in the lounge area of the rest room, staring at the watercolor of pink magnolia blossoms hanging on the wall, Maggie philosophized. "Tomorrow is always the problem. No matter how hard you try, you can't stop it from coming."

Now
that
was a statement Grace easily understood.

"That's just the problem, Justin." Holly wrapped her arms around herself. "We don't have a tomorrow. And I'm not ready to give up today."

"Poor girl," murmured Grace.

"I know just how she feels," added Maggie, stroking the back of her hand across the shimmering skirt of her wedding gown.

"Dammit, Holly. This makes no sense to me." Justin slammed a hand down on the counter beside the borrowed toothpaste. "We've been together for almost a year. I'm building a practice now, and you've completed work for your master's. Our lives are changing, moving forward. Our relationship needs to grow, too. You know that. You know I'm right."

Grace frowned into the mirror, noting the fear simmering in Holly's voice as she said, "I wasn't going to date you. I turned you down at first, remember? Then you said you didn't want to get married until you were well established in your practice and maybe not even then. You promised me. I have a very clear memory of it."

"I changed my mind." Justin threw out his hands and began pacing the hard green tiles of the lavatory floor. "I fell in love with you. And you love me, too. I have a very clear memory—you telling me you love me over and over and over again every time we make love."

He stormed around the room, raking his fingers through his hair. Once, his pained gaze met Grace's in the mirror, and she found herself wanting to rush into the lavatory and give both young people a hug. She wanted to tell them not to waste a minute, that life is fleeting. She wanted to tell them to treasure every moment with those they love, and to approach life at its fullest and count their blessings every day.

"Oh, dear," Grace said with a sigh. "Now I'm starting to get teary-eyed."

Maggie patted her shoulder, then moved to block the outer door, which had begun to swing open. She grabbed the handle, halted the door's progress, and poked her head outside. "This rest room is closed," Grace heard her say. "Fashion show. You'll have to use the one upstairs."

From the inner room, Holly called out a tremulous "Thank you."

Justin drew a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. "People in love get married. That's the way it works. What did you think would happen with us?"

"I don't know. I've tried not to think about it."

"That's stupid."

Maggie looked at Grace. "Mike talks that way to me sometimes. I hate it."

Holly lifted her chin and went on the defensive by marching to the sitting room and addressing Grace and Maggie. "What's stupid is that I didn't see this coming. Does love create some sort of misfire in a woman's brain? It must. I sure haven't been thinking right. I should have known to expect this. After all, he told his family we were engaged."

Justin swept into the outer lounge and scowled at Holly. "How did you find out about that?"

"Your mother all but abducted me on Thursday. She showed up on my doorstep and demanded I go shopping with her. I thought it was to buy you something for your birthday, but oh, no. She took me to some little boutique over on Camp Bowie Boulevard. To shop for wedding gowns. Wouldn't listen to a word I said. I had to strip for a man named Randall."

Justin winced. "He's her personal consultant. She's worked with him for years."

"He put me in a six thousand dollar wedding gown. Six thousand dollars for a dress. Like I can afford that."

Now Holly was the one storming around, her arms folded, her lips pursed in a pout.

Grace saw Maggie's lips twitch with a smile. She leaned toward Grace and murmured, "The girl does a good snitty pout. I've had great respect for that particular tool ever since the ninth grade when I watched Cheryl Harris pout her way into a date with Tommy Lee Wilson to the homecoming dance."

Grace nodded. "I can manage a decent pout, but I'm a better sulker. When I do resort to pouting, it usually proves productive."

"Less is best," Maggie agreed.

In this case, it obviously worked. Justin walked over to the lounge chair and took a sprawling seat. Grimacing, he rubbed his forehead. "I shouldn't have mentioned marriage to Mother. It slipped out when she said she'd fixed me up with Puffy Larson's daughter for a Kimball Art Museum fund-raiser."

Maggie perked up. "Puffy Larson's daughter Jenna? I know her. She's a pretty girl, but bubble-headed. Dated one of my sons in high school."

Holly flopped down on the couch beside the empty wedding gown box. "Jenna Larson is a beautiful blonde, thin as a rail with long supermodel legs."

Grace gave the young woman a sympathetic nod. "I despise her on principle."

Staring blindly at the magnolia painting on the wall, Holly asked, "So you have a date with Jenna Larson?"

Justin sighed. "No, Holly. No. I'm thirty years old. I don't let my mother fix me up and I don't want a date with Jenna Larson. You know me better than that. You know me better than anybody."

"Oh," Maggie said with a sigh. "That's so sweet."

Grace simply shook her head. This was getting out of hand. "Maggie, why don't you gather up your things. There's a dressing room in the ballroom. I think we should give these two some privacy."

"Either that or get them a room. I personally believe discussions like this one are better held in close proximity to a bed rather than a toilet."

Justin gave a short, bitter laugh. "I don't think we can solve our problems with sex."

Holly tossed him a hopeful look. "It wouldn't hurt to try, though, would it?"

"Dammit, Holly. You're breaking my heart."

"No!" She whirled around on him, temper flashing in her eyes. "Don't say that. It's not true. I don't break men's hearts. I won't do it. I swore I never would. I promised."

Her outburst shocked the room into silence.

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "I care about you, Justin. Too much. I do love you. But marriage?... Please, can't we just keep this simple? Can't we just—"

"Screw?" he finished bitterly, the look in his eyes as mean as the word. "I'm good enough to screw, but not to marry?"

Grace wasn't going to listen to any more. She had no business being in the middle of this argument at all. Gathering up her purse, she stood and motioned for Maggie to join her.

Even as Maggie gathered her billowing skirt to rise, Holly erupted from her seat. She advanced on Justin, her hands clenched at her sides, anger snapping in her eyes. "We don't screw. We don't even have sex. We make love, and damn you for calling it anything different. Just stop it."

Justin shoved to his feet and squared off in front of Holly. His jaw was tight and he stood with his hands braced on his hips. "Well, maybe I should just stop it. Maybe that's exactly what I should do."

He laughed, then, but the sound was anything but amused. Stalking toward the corner, he scooped up the engagement ring from the floor and said, "It's obvious I'm wasting my time here. It's a beautiful day outside. Think I'll go fishing. Maybe I'll see if Jenna Larson wants to come along. Maybe she'll want to try out my Bobbin Bass Bait."

Holly buried her face in her hands. "Justin... please."

At the door, he paused. Without turning around, he said, "I love you, Holly. I want to marry you, to have children with you, to be a family with you. I want to grow old with you. I didn't expect it to happen, but it has, and damned if I understand how you can tell me you love me, show me you love me, and not want to take the next logical step. Hell, you won't even consider it."

"It can't work, Justin. Believe me."

He looked over his shoulder and fired the word like a bullet. "Why?"

She didn't answer him. She wouldn't even look at him. Justin muttered a particularly ugly curse, then said, "All right. Have it your way. Damned if I'll continue to beg."

The door swished shut behind him.

Holly wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. Below the hem of the darling red dress, her knees began to sag. "What's the matter with me? Why do I have to be such a coward?"

Maggie clucked her tongue and crooned in a soothing tone, "Now, sugar. Calm down. It's all right. Everything's all right. Just don't cry, okay? You'll get me started again and I'm trying hard to give it up. Crying is bad for me. I'm sloppy at it. No matter how much I want to weep like Scarlett O'Hara, I always ended up shedding Lucy Ricardo tears. Just ask Grace here. She's seen me in action. Believe me, you don't want to get me going again. Hush now, sweetie."

Grace saw Holly sway and feared she might collapse. With Maggie's help, she guided the young woman onto the sofa, where she sat stiff and still, staring blindly ahead. She spoke in a tone barely above a whisper. "He doesn't know it, but that's the cruelest thing he's ever said to me."

Grace sat at her right side and took her hand. "Which thing is that?"

"Marriage. Marrying Justin is my most cherished dream."

Grace and Maggie shared a look of surprise. Swishing her train to one side and taking a seat on Holly's left, Maggie asked, "So why did you refuse him?"

"Because I love him."

Again, Grace and Maggie's gazes met. Maggie waggled her eyebrows. "You love him so you can't marry him."

"That's right."

"Are you already married, sugar?"

"Of course not."

In a gesture repeated thousands of times with her daughter, Grace gently tucked an errant strand of hair behind Holly's ear. "What is it, Holly? What's the problem?"

"I can't talk about it. I won't. I try not to even think about it." Holly burrowed against Grace's bosom and finally broke down. Grace held the weeping young woman, absorbing her emotional pain, while Maggie patted her knee and murmured words of comfort.

"I think my heart might explode," Holly sobbed. "Can a person die from crying?"

Maggie wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I don't think so, sugar. Otherwise, I'd be a goner myself. Although considering the circumstances, I won't swear drowning isn't out of the question."

Though slow off the mark, once Holly let loose, she gave Maggie a run for her money in the bawling department. She went on for what felt to Grace like hours—maybe even days—but turned out to be about ten minutes. When finally the young woman had wrung herself dry, she lapsed into hiccups. Those, too, eventually stilled.

"Mercy." Maggie exhaled a loud sigh of relief, rose, hitched up her wedding gown, and fetched an entire roll of toilet paper from a stall. "Here, sugar. Blow."

Holly blew, then said to Maggie, "That's a beautiful dress. Did you buy it here at the sale?"

"Ac-tu-al-ly," Maggie drawled, drawing the word out into four, very long, Southern syllables, "it's
my
wedding gown. My mama's, too. I brought it to donate to the Pink Sisterhood Foundation." Addressing Grace, she asked, "I'm curious... because it's old and all... will they even have a use for it? I'm not trying to back out of donating it, mind you. I just wonder if a girl would even want it. Nowadays, strapless gowns are all the fashion."

"Some girl would love it," Grace assured.

"I'd love it," Holly said in a wistful, dreamy tone. "I'd love to wear a vintage gown like yours. If I were going to marry, that is. Which I'm not. Not ever."

Still again, Grace and Maggie's gazes met and held.

Then Maggie spun her gold charm bracelet around her wrist and said, "You know, Miss Holly, my friend Grace and I can't help but be a little curious. Considering how we've become bathroom buddies and all, why don't you tell us why having that handsome fella ask you to marry him sends you into hysterics."

Holly swallowed a hiccup and shrugged.

"Oh, come on, now. We'll keep your confidence, won't we, Grace? A ladies' room is like a confessional when it comes to secrets. Call me Father Maggie, if that will help."