Chapter Twenty-Two
“Dear Lord, that man.” I watched while the delivery kid staggered under the weight of the flowers. “Over there, with the rest.” I pointed to the amazing display of floral incentives already gracing my desk, Evelyn’s desk, Amy’s desk, pretty much every flat surface in Fitzgerald Brewing Company.
After spending three nights in the hospital, chafing to get out of there, they’d sent me home. My mother had driven me, still muttering darkly in Spanish as I’d leaned my head against the window, never more grateful for the sun on my face. Trent’s full court press had begun the second I’d opened my door to find the place spotlessly clean, my fridge stocked and mounds of my favorite flowers filling the entire room with beauty and fragrance.
My mother had launched straight in with a string of expletives. She’d actually managed to toss two of the bouquets into the trash before I’d stopped her, laughing, but suddenly so tired I could hardly see straight. “Enough, already, Mama.”
“He’s a terrible man. Just terrible. You did the right thing not letting him near you.”
“Ah, Mama. Give it a rest.”
We’d spoken in Spanish which made my head hurt. English had been pressed upon me by both my parents. They’d insisted on it, convinced the only way I’d ever make anything of myself would be as an Anglo. I spoke Spanish at home, of course, but the way I had of thinking—in two languages simultaneously—always wore me out. “I’m tired. I need to go to bed.”
“Oh my darling, I’m sorry.” She’d bustled around, distracted as I’d planned while I touched a petal of the lilies, taking a deep breath of them. I slept for hours that week. And when I wasn’t sleeping I was eating. Trent had food delivered daily, including thick, juicy steaks which I devoured like a starving person. A nurse came every day that week to take my blood pressure, pulse and test my iron. By Friday I was sick of the whole thing and ready to go back to work.
But the onslaught continued there. Flowers every other day. Rich Belgian truffles a few times a week. Bottles of horrifically expensive red wine which I didn’t dare drink. Boxes stuffed with tissue paper and some of the most beautiful lingerie I’d ever seen.
For two Tuesdays in a row he’d sent over a muscular, good-looking guy with a massage table. He set it up in Evelyn’s office and the two of us were treated to deep tissue therapy and a serious case of the giggles, considering her increasingly unwieldy body and the extreme hotness of the man digging his knuckles into our flesh.
I got tickets to the ballet, which I loved and shared with Evelyn. We also went to the opera and saw a traveling version of a Broadway musical. And not once did he call or demand that I see him. I always sent a text with a photo of whatever it was he’d chosen to bribe me with that day. He always replied with the same five words—You’re welcome. I love you.
By the third week of treats, goodies, outings and massages, I was wondering how he might up the ante. Because I knew he would. What I didn’t know was how I would ultimately respond to it all.
“So, you have to help me with this wedding,” Evelyn said, rubbing the firm drum of her belly. “It’s all I can do to get to work every day, no thanks to you.”
“No thanks to Mister Gifty, best I can tell.” I chose a truffle from the week’s stash and popped it into my mouth, relishing the rich, melty chocolate and getting a sweet, familiar shivery feeling as I pictured him, ordering up all this nonsense.
“Ugh, seriously. You are going to help me, right?”
“Of course. But I’m curious. How will you marry them both? Not sure I can find an officiant for that.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “You know damn good and well I’m marrying Austin. Ross is…just a bonus.” She blushed, then fanned her face with a piece of paper.
“I hate you sometimes.” I patted her belly. I’d gotten over being unable to look at her, at the way she was blossoming into her pregnancy. “But mostly I love you. Here.” I put a truffle in her mouth. “Let’s talk details.”
She chewed, swallowed and put her chin in her hand. “I can’t think straight about anything right now.”
“Fine. So I assume you want to have it at St. Vincent’s. How many attendants?”
She smiled at me. “Just one. You. And Brock, of course.” She named Austin’s twin brother. “I’d like to keep it small, maybe seventy or so people. If we go much beyond that, we’ve got to open it up to over two hundred.”
“Yeah, let’s avoid that.”
Someone knocked on her office door. When it opened, I saw another delivery kid. But this time, instead of an obnoxious bouquet, or box of chocolates, or wine, or tickets to yet another event that I’d always said I wanted to attend but never wanted to spend the money on, he held a large, rectangular box. I tipped him, took the box and set it on the work table. It was a deep red color with the name of an expensive dress shop on it. I’d gotten one like it once before.
Evelyn joined me, rubbing the small of her back and eating another truffle. I ran my fingers over the surface, feeling the raised lettering. So, the time had come. He’d given me four weeks. And now I had to make a decision. I opened the box, peeled back the tissue paper and saw the dress. It was black this time, strapless, with a beaded bodice and a flowing, diaphanous skirt. I held it against me while Evelyn whistled. The shoes were like a dream—a dozen razor-thin black ribbons up the instep, ending with a thick ankle strap studded with what looked like diamonds. The heels were so high I thought I’d get a nosebleed if I wore them.
“Damn, sister. You’ve got this man wrapped up.” She held up the deep red rose that lay next to the shoes and handed it me. “Somebody’s got a serious date night.”
I sighed and put everything back in the box. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, Evelyn. I won’t. He…he just left me, remember?”
I put the lid on the box, resting my palms on the lid and taking a deep breath. There wasn’t a single thing in this universe that I wanted more. But I wasn’t ready. My friend put her hands on mine and stared at me. “All right, I’m sick of this shit. You…” She pointed over my shoulder. “Get in here. And you.” She poked my shoulder. “You pull your self-righteous head out of your ass. I’m sick of you both.” She shoved the box across the table at me. “I love you, Melody, but so help me you have got to be the most pig-headed woman on the planet. That man adores you. Yeah, he fucked up, big time. But Jesus please-us he’s going broke trying to prove that he’s sorry.”
I sensed him behind me. I straightened, and crossed my arms. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“Oh honey, I just did. Do your worst, Hettinger. It’s go time.” She walked toward the door. Trent emerged from the gloom as I turned to watch her go. “Don’t blow it, Melody. He may be big and ugly but he’s yours.” She gave him a little shove, then disappeared down the metal steps.
“Thanks,” he said to her retreating back but keeping his intense, blue-green gaze on me.
He pulled up two chairs, set them facing each other and sat in one, patting the seat to indicate what I should do. I hesitated, knowing that if I did this, there was no going back. I sat. He took both my hands.
“Melody Rodriguez, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.” He kissed both my palms, then each of my knuckles. “Please forgive me.”
I sighed. “Seriously, that’s all you’ve got?”
He raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth then snapped it shut. “You’re kidding.”
“Maybe.” I allowed him a small smile. I put my finger on his lips when he lurched forward for a kiss. “Nope. Not yet.” I rose, pulling him with me. “Take me to dinner tomorrow night. And we’ll talk, I promise.”
“Melody, I…”
I shook my head, backing away from him. I hurt all over I wanted his arms around me so badly. But I had to know for sure. Which meant I had to wait a bit longer.
“Pick me up at seven. You choose the place. Someplace nice though, no dive bars.”
He nodded, kissed my hand, then backed away. “Your wish…my command.”
I shuddered and grabbed a chair to keep from keeling over in the wake of that particular memory. “I know, guapo.” His eyes lit up when I used his pet name. “Go on now, get your beauty sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”