The Face In The Mirror (23 page)

Mr. Ridgeway was very generous; I guess he thought he had to be so that I
helped the Ridgeway name remain unsoiled. Your dad came to Granny’s every
weekend, no matter what, and he showered me with gifts and love. In my mind
I believed I made the right decision.

Before we read another word, Mitchell closed the book, marking the page.
We’d been reading for hours, it was almost noon. He sent Dave a text and said
he wouldn’t be in at all. We lay quietly in the bed, not sure either of us knew
what to say. Finally, Mitchell went to the kitchen and came back with two
double shots of bourbon.

We moved to the living room and sat there for a while, still not saying
anything. I didn’t know if I could even wrap my head around any of it. It was
so surreal.

“I’m exhausted, Mitchell. I feel as though some unknown force sucked the
life and breath from me.”
“Like a sucker-punch to the gut,” he said.
“I’m just in shock. I mean, reading this is like a bad novel, but you can’t
put it down. I can’t help wondering if she truly loved him. Is that why she
stayed? Or did she feel trapped? She was twenty-one, on her way to law school.
She was a smart woman, Mitchell. Why did she stay?”
“For the same reason she stayed all the years after. We both know from
reading her words that he was dicking around on her all that time.”
“Part of me just wants to pick up the phone and call my dad and let him
know that I know.”
“The other part?”
“Never wants to see him, or talk to him again. Oh Mitchell, how is all of
this even real?” I thought a moment more, and added, “Now I know why she
left the journals – these pieces of herself - to me. We have a connection she
didn’t have with anyone else. Mitchell, this just breaks my heart.”

We didn’t read anymore that evening. I couldn’t. I was really still reeling
from the shock of it all. Derek and Rowena were my siblings, but both of them
caused such pain for my mom…

I didn’t know what to do with the emotions I was experiencing, so the next
day I dove, head first, into Convenient Cuisine. There was still so much to do
and the opening was getting closer by the day. I knew it would be a good
distraction.

Mitchell took me to Granny’s, and then went to Donovan’s to get some
paperwork that he needed to tend to, and came back. I put a new recipe in the
crockpot and got busy making lists and drawing not so good sketches of the
layout, and how I wanted things to look. Mitchell brought his work to the
kitchen table to join me, and added his thoughts.

The groundwork was set – we’d secured everything we legally needed to
open a business. Mitchell ordered the equipment and was getting everything in
place for wiring and all of that. I opened a line of credit and Cassie got busy. I
knew I wanted it to stay retro, but we also decided shabby-chic would be the
look – with mismatched everything! Cassie shopped thrift shops for small café
tables and chairs, table linens, cloth napkins, dinnerware, glasses and silverware.
She would text me photos and I hated that I wasn’t with her to share the
excitement.

The thrift shop idea for all of it was practical and economical. I liked it
because if we needed additional items, or if something got broken, it’d be
cheaper to get it from a thrift shop. But what I loved most was that everything
was unique.

I did have one ‘must have’ and a rule to go with it. No wimpy coffee cups.
I searched and found exactly what I wanted – heavy, cream-colored cups that
looked antique in style. They had to have a good solid bottom and sturdy
handle. Also, no one would ever be ‘topping off’ someone’s perfect cup of
coffee. I’ve always hated when my coffee is just right and it gets topped off
with more coffee leaving me to figure out how to get it the way it was. There
will be a carafe of coffee served and our guests can pour more when they are
ready. I had an old hutch style buffet of Granny’s stashed in the office; Mitchell
took it to the shop and the guys wired it so we could have electricity and use it
as the coffee station.

Dave wired for Wi-Fi and music – instrumental. There would be no TV;
the space was small and if people were sharing conversation, a TV would be a
distraction. We added two comfy chairs and an occasional table in the corner,
with room for two more in the future.

We remodeled the interior to match the look from back in the day. We
started with five tables with four chairs each, and had room for three more if
we needed them later. There was room on the front porch for two outside
tables to enjoy in good weather.

As a surprise, Mitchell hung a swing on the end of the porch. There had
been one many years ago, but age and the weather had rotted it, and it had
never been replaced. It was a fond memory for us, sitting on the swing
sneaking kisses. I was glad that my husband had a romantic side and
remembered those times.

I got the sewing machine out and made gingham curtains for the windows,
and then made a stash of aprons for us to wear. I was always happy when I saw
Granny in an apron because I knew it meant something really good was about
to happen – she was going to cook, or bake!

Cassie had an idea to find pretty picture frames that would hold the
“Special of the Day” information to place on the tables. I thought of all those
frames my mom had and brought them to Granny’s – a piece of my mom
would be on each table.

I was delighted that we came to an agreement on Cassie working with us.
She was a great sounding board. She wouldn’t agree to a salary until the first of
the year so I tried not to let her come too often, but she was there pretty much
daily, and I loved her company.

My phone rang early in the day and the caller ID told me that it was
Ashley. “Hey, got a minute?” she said when I answered.
“Always for you! What’s up?”
“We aren’t telling anyone else, but Dave and I are flying to Las Vegas on
Thursday. We decided to do an Elvis chapel wedding! Renee! I’m crazy about
him!”
She paused, but didn’t give me a chance to say anything. “I want you to
know that I wish you could be there with me, but I know you’re crazy busy.
Dave told me last night that he and Mitchell can’t both be away at the same
time, so I’m gonna have one of the Vegas show-girls at the chapel be my
witness, and ‘Elvis’ will be Dave’s.”
“We’ll have a party when you get back!” I said, disappointed that Mitchell
and I couldn’t join them, but Mitchell came home later with a plan.
“We’re flying out late on Friday and we’ll come home early on Sunday,” he
told me. “I already talked to Dave before we left work.”
“Mitchell Donovan, I love you! I’m gonna call Ashley!”
“Just remember, my love,” he smirked, his hands roaming my body like
unexplored territory, and I grew weak in the knees. “What happens in Vegas,
stays in Vegas…”

We arrived in Las Vegas around four and by the time we got to our room it
was after six. We rested a while, and finally Dave sent a text asking us to meet
them in the hotel casino. We played, we ate, we danced, and we partook of
alcoholic beverages until two tired couples stumbled to their rooms.

“Mitchell Donovan, I don’t know what’s going on in the room down the
hall, but I’m fixin’ to show you a “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas kinda
time,” I said with a giggle.

The next morning was the sleep-in kind; we knew we’d be up late with the
wedding. I rolled to see the clock. 11:48, it read, and then I realized that
Mitchell wasn’t beside me.

“Where are you?” I called out, and finally he came around the corner with a
tray of coffee. He set it on the table beside the bed and crawled top of me,
singing, “Tequila makes her clothes fall off,” while he wrapped me in his arms.

“You definitely showed me a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ good
time,” he laughed, his body hovering over mine.
“Just pour the damn coffee,” I growled. As he rolled off, I pulled the
covers over my head. He continued singing the song by Joe Nichols.

Them panty hose ain't gonna last too long
If the DJ puts Bon Jovi on
She might come home in a tablecloth
Yeah, tequila makes her clothes fall off…

Ashley.
“Mornin’,” Dave laughed. I looked to see Ashley with a look I was familiar
with, and we both laughed. “How about a margarita?”
“You’re a funny boy,” Ashley said.

The wedding was at nine that evening and I wanted to hit the boutique.
“I’ll go with you,” Ashley said.
She’d told me she didn’t want a ‘bridesmaid dress;’ she wanted me to find
something I could wear again. Her dress was short so I was looking for the
same. She told me, “I really like that teal, aqua, whateverthehell you call it color
on you!” Whenever Ashley said ‘whatever the hell’, it always came out as one
word.
We went in to browse and I saw it immediately. It was the teal color that
drew me, and I grabbed it off the rack just as Ashley saw it.
“I could slip a jacket over this and tone it down for another use, but I love
this halter style. I can feel Mitchell’s hands on my bare back just looking at it,” I
sighed.
I went in to slip it on. Finally, I turned to see in the mirror to check it out.
“Perfect!”
As I said the word out loud, Ashley was banging on the dressing room
door. “Let me see!” I pushed the door open.
“Wow,” she said.
“You like it? It’s OK?” I asked
“You already summed it up in one word – perfect!”

Mitchell dressed and went with Dave to the chapel to wait. Dave had a
limo lined up to bring Ashley and me to them. Ashley dressed in our room, and
we giggled and talked of the future.

“You look beautiful,” I told her. “You glow and sparkle from the inside,
and shimmer and shine on the outside!”
“And you, my friend, look amazing! Did Mitchell see that dress?”
“No I decided to make him wait to see me walking in!”

When we arrived at the chapel, I had to hold Ashley back to keep her from
running - she was ready for this! When it was time for us to make our way to
the front, the music began - they’d chosen “Love Me Tender,” very appropriate
for a Vegas-Elvis wedding chapel.

When I started toward the altar, Mitchell was watching every move I made.
He winked and whispered ‘I love you’, and I was as ecstatic as I was at our
wedding.

After they exchanged vows with the Elvis Justice of the Peace, we turned
to exit the chapel and they started playing “Burning Love,” causing a big laugh
from all of us.

Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
And you light my morning sky
With burning love

Dinner, some dancing, and celebrating followed. It was after two in the
morning when we returned to our room. I could see Mitchell’s delight. He was
ready for our time alone, and it was written all over his face.

“Renie… I always think that I can’t imagine that you could be more
beautiful. That dress is perfect, and I wanted you from the minute I saw you
enter the chapel.”

“I know. I saw it.”
“What a lucky man I am.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I purred. “I looked up as I entered the chapel tonight

I felt his hands on my bare back, and it felt exactly as I’d dreamed when I
found the dress. I held my breath as he slid the zipper down.
“Mitchell,” I said breathlessly.
“Shh, don’t talk. I want to appreciate all of this…”

The next day we headed home, back to our reality, leaving Ashley and
Dave behind to honeymoon. Exhausted, I slept most of the way home. When I
would stir, I could feel Mitchell’s touch on my hair, my shoulder, my arm… but
what I really felt was love.

We were so busy that we slept at Granny’s half the time. We decided to
keep a bedroom intact upstairs with the furniture from the spare room at the
condo for that reason - plus we wanted a place to sneak in a quickie anytime we
could.

Today would be particularly busy. The kitchen equipment would be
delivered and I kept busy looking for recipes and making plans for what we
would do first, once everything was hooked up. When the delivery guy called, I
let Mitchell know they were on the way. He pulled in just as they arrived,
wanting to oversee the delivery. I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning
everything to be ready to put it all to work.

When Mitchell returned for the evening he looked around. “Where’s the
crockpot?”
“I was too busy and I didn’t even think of it!”
“How about we run out and grab a burger. I have an errand I need to do,
anyway. Does that work for you?”
“Sure, where are we going?”
“I have some unfinished business I need to take care of.”

He pulled in front of a tattoo business and I looked at him. He said
nothing as he got out of the truck and came around to open my door. I knew
that the gentleman in him always wanted this to be the case, so I waited. He
took my hand and we entered the shop. A younger man with hardly an inch of
visible uninked skin came around the corner.

“Rocky,” he said, extending his hand.
“Mitchell,” he said, introducing himself. “I need a revision on a tat.” He
pushed his t-shirt sleeve up to show the broken heart. “It needs to be one piece
now.”
“Sure, man. I can put a banner through it. Want it to say something? Or I
can put a flower or a cross or something.” He whipped out a piece of paper
and drew some quick sketches.
“Banner,” Mitchell said. “Can I see a piece of that paper?”
He handed the paper to me. “I’d like for you to write, ‘Forever, Renie’.
Your pretty handwriting not printed.”
I did as he asked and he handed the paper back to Rocky. “That’s what I
want on the banner. It’s a contract,” he said eyeing me.
I closed my eyes, thinking. “May I have a piece of that paper, too?” I
handed it to Mitchell and repeated his words. “Please write, ‘Forever, Mitchell’.
Your pretty handwriting, not printed. It’s a contract.”
“Where you putting this on that pretty body?”
“Oh, no!” I laughed. “I just want the paper.”
“Chicken-shit…”
“Here, smart-ass,” I said, and ran my fingers around my right wrist.
“For real?”
“Yes.”