The Wedding Chapel (40 page)

“Really? That’s the story you’re sticking to?”

“It’s the truth.” The red tinge of frustration splashed his cheeks.

“I saw you. In your study. Kissing her.”

“What? When?” He was on his feet now, hands propped on his belt.

“You were my hero, Daddy. How do you think it made me feel to see you in another woman’s arms? Kissing her. And in your own home too.” She walked around the couch, the conversation feeling so foreign. She’d imagined this moment but she’d never played it out.

“When was this?”

“You know when, Daddy. It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend. I know.”

“Then tell me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Are you serious? In your study, about seven o’clock at night, fourteen years ago. Come on, you . . . Ardell . . . hugging . . . kissing.”

Daddy frowned. “And you saw that?”

“I was hiding behind the door, waiting for you. Mr. Ellison gave my print photography class an assignment to photograph someone we admire. Our hero. I decided to do a candid shot, you at your desk working . . .” Taylor eased back down to the couch. “Because that’s what you did, work to take care of us. Make us feel loved and safe.”

“Oh, Taylor—”

“Instead, I learn you’re a cheater.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“I was fifteen, Daddy. What was I supposed to say?”

“ ‘What were you doing with Ardell?’ ”

“Right, and you’d have done what? Told me the truth? Apologized? Made it all better?”

He jutted out his chin. “No, no, I’d have told you it wasn’t your business.”

“Exactly. I got an F on that project because I couldn’t think
of another hero in time and I refused to turn in the one of you in the den.”

“As I recall, that room didn’t have a lot of light.”

“I know what I saw.”

“Did you see that she was crying? That I was comforting her? And yes, I did hug her and kiss her cheek.”

“Well, it looked like lips from where I was standing.”

Daddy sighed, sitting forward, pressing his forehead to his hands. Taylor’s heartbeat counted the seconds as she waited. “Ardell came to me for advice. She’d found out her husband was having an affair.”

“What? But I saw you—”

“Comforting an old friend. Taylor, this is why you’ve been angry at me all these years?”

“Yes, you cheated. So I thought. So I
saw
. I lost my family. My dad.”

Daddy exhaled, rubbing his hand over his face. “Taylor, you’re going to make me say things I don’t want to say.”

“I’d like the truth.”

“Why don’t you go talk to your mama?”

“Mama?”

“She had a hand in our marriage failing too.”

“Like what? Wanting a faithful husband?”

“Taylor—”

She was pushing and knew it. “Say it, Daddy. Like what? You came over here to clear the air between us, so . . .”

“She was the one having an affair. With Ardell’s husband, Trevor.”

The truth punched her, plopping her against the sofa. “Mama?”

“That’s right, Vicki had the affair. Not me. I wanted to work it out, as did Ardell with Trevor, but they both wanted out. Don’t you remember him coming around after I moved out?”

“Yes, but I thought he was taking sides with her against the two
of you.” Daddy’s truth brought light to the shades and shadows of Taylor’s understanding.

“We never said anything to you girls ’cause we figured it wasn’t something to put on your shoulders. Of course, I didn’t know you saw me with Ardell.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“What’s to say? You didn’t know.”

“But I’ve been mad at you for fourteen years. I watched you and Mama fall apart and thought, ‘Wow, marriage is rotten. Men stink.’ ”

“I never intended to divorce your mom, but if it’s any encouragement, Ardell and I have been happily married for twelve years. Still going strong. And other than after a good workout or a day in the yard, we menfolk don’t stink too bad.”

A joke. He was easing the tension with a joke.

Taylor surrendered her rising, soft laugh. “Oh, Daddy . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“How about we can be friends again.”

“Yes, yes, Daddy, I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been.” She slipped from the couch as he stood, his arms open. Leaning into him, her head to his chest, Taylor sensed a shift in her soul and for the first time in a very long time, her world seemed to turn on the right axis.

“Kiddo, I wish you would’ve talked to me sooner.”

They stayed there for a long while, hugging, rocking back and forth, wounds exposed and healing in the fresh light of truth.

JIMMY

Restless. Irritated. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Mad. Astounded. Awed. Confused. Hurt. Remorseful.

Jimmy paced around his living room through each rising emotion into the kitchen and back again, doing his best to make peace with the news Colette had just dropped on him.

Drummond Branson was his son.

He sat in his recliner, positioned exactly where Dad’s old chair used to sit, then popped to his feet again.

James. Colette had named the boy James.

Pacing, his adrenaline too hot for sitting, Jimmy let his gaze cruise past the curio cabinet, then back, stopping on the football tucked back on the top shelf behind the glass.

Walking over, he retrieved the old ball from its resting place. Dad’s shadow box to encase Jimmy’s game ball from ’48 turned into a much bigger project. Clearly.

But for over six decades, the cabinet had been the ball’s home. Coach took it out once a year, at the beginning of the football season, to inspire the boys.

Reaching in, he palmed the ball and tossed it between his hands. Walking over to the window, he shoved aside the curtain with the nose of the ball.

She was out there. Hurting. He couldn’t console her once she confessed. She’d shrugged off his touch, assuring him she was the most despicable woman on the earth.

Finally she left. He waited until she pulled out of the driveway, then he followed her. So he knew Colette was in Heart’s Bend. At the inn.

He came home thinking he’d leave her be, but the more he paced, the more he thought—the more time ticked by, the more he changed his mind.

Tucking the ball under his arm, he marched for the kitchen, snatched up his keys, and fired out the back door.

If ever in his life he needed to score the winning touchdown, it
was today. Right now. He’d heard Colette’s story and now she was going to hear his.

At the inn, he asked for Colette’s room and the clerk rang her from the desk.

“She’ll be right out,” she said.

So, more pacing. Back and forth through the lobby, tossing the ball in his hands, Jimmy prepared to have his say.

“I love you and it’s high time we got married. In our chapel.”

But when he turned to see a silver-haired, New York–looking man heading his way, he lost a bit of his nerve.

“Jimmy?”

“And you are?”

“Ford, Colette’s manager.” He offered his hand, which Jimmy took. No reason to be rude.

“Where’s Colette? I need to talk to her.”

“She’s resting. We’re flying home early in the morning. She sends her regrets.”

Jimmy stepped back, needing space to think. Not this again . . .

If Colette needed rest, he did not want to disturb her. She was very upset this afternoon. But the way Jimmy saw things, he didn’t have much time left.

He intended to speak his mind. Resting would have to wait.

He tucked the ball against his ribs and shoved around the manager. “What room is she in?”

“Hold on now . . .” Ford heeled after him. “She doesn’t want to speak to you.”

“I thought you said she was resting.”

“And she doesn’t want to speak to you. She’s said all she intends to say.”

“Then she can tell me to my face.” Jimmy knocked on the first door on the right. “Colette? You in here?”

“You can’t knock on every door, disrupting people.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one with Colette’s room number.” Jimmy rapped softly on the door across the hall. “Lettie, it’s Jimmy. I just need a word.”

A bass growl came from the other side. “Wrong room, buddy.”

“Sorry to disturb you.” Jimmy moved down the hall. About to knock on the third door, Ford blurted, “Five. She’s in room five. Stop pestering the rest of the guests.”

With a backward glance at Ford, Jimmy moved down the hall. “Colette, darling, it’s me, Jimmy. Can I speak with you?”

“Colette, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ford said over Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Pardon me, but this don’t concern you.” Jimmy frowned. “Don’t you have another client to tend to?”

“There’s where you’re wrong—it does concern me.”

The door eased open and a weary but beautiful Colette greeted him. “Jimmy, please come in.” She stood aside. “Ford, I’m famished for dinner. Can you order us something?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He growled as he turned away.

“He’s a peach,” Jimmy said, gazing at Colette, gripping the ball between his hands.

“He’s protective.”

“I don’t aim to harm you, Lettie.”

“I know that and you know that, but—is that what I think it is?” She pointed to the ball.

“Game ball. Nineteen forty-eight. Had it with me the first night I talked to you.”

“So, are we back to that? The beginning?” Colette reached for the ball, turned it in her hands, and flipped it back to Jimmy.

“If we could, I’d change a few things. I’d not be here now, with you on one side of a hotel room and me on the other, yes, almost like
strangers.” Jimmy stepped closer. “But we’re not strangers, Colette. When you walked into the wedding chapel yesterday, I knew you. I felt like my heart had finally returned home. If that don’t sound like a bunch of sentimental yuk from an ole bachelor football coach.”

Colette retreated to the sitting area, reclining in a fancy upholstered chair, the evening light bright against the window. Yes, she was as lovely today as she’d been that night at the Clemsons. He even loved the time-earned lines of her face. Because each one had a story.

And in his chest beat a heart full of stories he longed to tell her, his one true love.

“I don’t think we can go back, Jimmy.” She shook her head, then rested her chin in her hand. “It’s too late.”

“More than too late, it’s impossible.” Jimmy took the seat next to hers, tucking the ball beside him. “I’m talking going forward, Lettie. Having a life together.”

She chortled. “Based on what, love? We’re strangers.”

“Then let’s get to know each other. I’m game. Colette, I’m tired of waiting. Tired of living alone, of being in that old house, of saying I’ll do things but never getting around to them.”

“Then do them, Jimmy. You don’t need me.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I do need you, Lettie. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for. Please marry me.”

Her pretty, made-up eyes glistened. “We’ve lost so much time.”

“Then let’s not lose any more. If you don’t love me, I’ll understand, but I want you to give me a chance. I can win your heart all over—”

“It’s not that, Jimmy.”

“Do you love me?” He hung on, determined. The fear and misunderstanding, confusion and anger wedged between them by time and manipulation ended today.

“Do you love me?” She shivered, wrapping her arms about herself. “Though after what I did, you should show me the back of your head as you walk away.”

“Lettie, yes, I love you. I never stopped loving you.” He dropped to one knee in front of her. “I don’t care what you did. I understand. I forgive. I want to marry you. I
must
marry you. What happened in the past is over. We can’t change it. I reckon you did what you had to do.” He cupped her hands with his. “So I’m asking you to do what you have to do now. Marry me. We’ll deal with Drummond in time. And what Peg did.”

Tears started down her cheeks. “I could’ve called your father. Talked to Aunt Jean and Uncle Fred—”

“You talked to the person you trusted most and she let you down, darling.”

“Running seems so silly now. So far away. But I was so ashamed, felt so alone. So I made a whole new life for myself, a whole new Colette.”

“But aren’t you forgetting something? You married me that day in the chapel. Said vows to me. As I did to you.”

“But it wasn’t legal or proper, Jimmy. We both knew it.”

“Maybe not in the eyes of the law. But in the eyes of my heart, I meant every word. The way I see it, it’s time to honor our private vows with a public wedding.”

“Surely after all these years apart, we’re not still
married
. We can’t possibly hold each other to youthful pledges.”

“Why not? Did we mean what we said? We’ve not recanted, nor divorced each other?”

She shook her head, her chin quivering.

“Did you marry someone else?”

Again no.

“Me neither.”

“Do we tell Drummond?” She angled for the square tissue box on the end table. “I wanted to tell you, Jimmy, so many times. But Drummond Sr. and Peg made it clear I was to be silent and stay away. So I did. And I didn’t want to hurt James.”

He caught the tear sneaking down her chin with the edge of his finger. “Why don’t you stop throwing blocks and just say yes? We’ll figure all of this out together. I love you, Colette Greer, heaven help me.” He squeezed her fingers. “Marry me?”