A Forever Thing (32 page)

“Okay,” he said slowly.

If only she’d keep talking. He loved that sweet southern twang
with just a hint of huskiness. He missed her. He wanted her to
come home. But it was her decision to leave. He’d given her the
promise of the moon and all the stars. He couldn’t give her the sun,
though, and that’s what she wanted.

“How is Tina?” she asked.

“Dessa’s first day was fine. She and Tina are bonding very well.
She made homemade tortillas and let Tina help. She did ask for you
when Dessa went home. She asked when you and the girls were
coming back. I guess she thinks you’ve gone for the day with Sophie and Kate.”

Fancy’s heart fell. “Tell her I love her.”

“I will do that,” Theron said past a baseball-sized lump in his
throat.

“I’ll call when I get home tomorrow,” she said.

“I’d appreciate it. I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s had to adapt to
lots of changes, as you well know,” he said.

“Good night, then,” she said, and she waited until he said the
same and the connection was broken.

But I’m not so sure I’ll be fine. As a matter of fact, I’m sure I
won’t. I’ll have to adapt too, but I damn sure don’t have to like it.

Five days later she was sitting on the beach in Florida watching the
sunrise, a bag of saltines and a glass of sweet tea beside her. The
pink sky promised another beautiful day. She wore a loose T-shirt
over a pair of jean shorts. The water lapped up to touch her toes. It
was cool enough that she wouldn’t want to swim in it but not so
cold that it chilled her toes. A faint breeze stirred the sea oats and
the fronds of the palms.

An older couple walked hand in hand down the beach. Had
Molly Frank lived, it could have been her and Joe on a fiftiethanniversary honeymoon.

A black cat darted out from the sea oats. It slithered, body close
to the sand, then pounced toward a sea gull, but the bird flew away
at the last minute. The silly cat looked up at the sky as if the breeze
would push the bird back down to its paws.

“Doesn’t work that way,” she said.

Good grief, she’d started talking to herself and to black cats.
She had to get control or she’d be ready for a straitjacket by the
end of the week.

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number at
the ranch house again. No answer. Since yesterday afternoon all
she’d gotten was the answering machine. Surely nothing catastrophic
had happened to Tina, or Theron would have called. Maybe they had
gone to Shamrock for the weekend, but that didn’t sound like Theron.
They’d moved on; they didn’t need her.

She sighed and shut her eyes against the bright rising sun.

“Fanny! Fanny!” a small voice called out behind her.

She opened her eyes but didn’t turn around. She’d dreamed that
Tina was calling for her the night before too. It had felt real then
too, but when she got out of bed to go check on Tina, she realized she wasn’t at the ranch anymore. She was in her tiny apartment on
the beach with only one bedroom.

“Fanny!” The voice came again.

It had to be someone else. Perhaps it was a little girl from the
Sugar Sands motel behind her; coincidence that she knew someone with the same name.

When Tina threw herself into Fancy’s arms and knocked her
backward into the sand, Fancy still had trouble believing the child
was really there in Florida. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I wanted you, and Daddy wanted you, and he said we could get
on an airplane and go get you. So we did”

She looked up to see Theron in his jeans and cowboy boots
staring down at her, a wary smile on his face. “Hello. I guess you
don’t live far from here?”

“Just down the beach a little way. This is my normal morning
walk or run. Y’all stayin’ at the Sugar Sands? You should have
called. You could have stayed in Momma’s house, or I would have
stayed there and given you my apartment,” she babbled, in shock
that he and Tina were really there.

He sat down beside her. “Glad to be home?”

How did she answer that honestly? Home was no longer Florida. It was where the heart was, and hers had been left somewhere
between Albany and Moran on a ranch with a man, a little girl, a
herd of longhorn cattle, and half a dozen cats. She merely nodded,
hoping it wouldn’t be laid up as a major sin when she faced the
judgment day.

Tina gave her a squeezing hug. “Where’d all that water come
from anyway?”

Fancy was glad to be back on solid ground and answering questions. “It’s the ocean. It’s always been there.”

“Can I play in this dirt? It’s clean dirt,” Tina said hopefully.

“Yes, you can. You can dig holes in it and fill them up with water or make castles. Where’s your doll and bear?” Fancy asked.

“They had to stay home. Can I dig with my hands?”

“You sure can. Don’t go too far. Not past those blue chairs. You
might find some seashells,” Fancy said.

“Can I take my shoes off?”

“And roll up your britches’ legs. Here, I’ll help you,” Theron said.

After that Tina ran off down the beach.

The waves lapped against the sand; gulls fussed as they flew
overhead; Tina giggled. Noise everywhere, but the silence between them was deafening.

“So?” he finally said.

“What?” she answered.

“I can’t do it. I’m miserable, and I can’t live without you.”

“Know just how you feel,” she said honestly.

“I practiced a thousand speeches on the flight. I couldn’t sleep
last night for revising them in my head. Now they’re all gone, and
I’m as tongue-tied as a high school sophomore on his first date.”

She waited.

“You’re not making this a bit easier.”

“My turn is coming around here in a few minutes,” she guessed.

“Well, I hope it makes your hands sweat and your heart hurt,”
he said.

“You are a real gentleman.”

“I love you, Fancy Lynn Sawyer. Living with you isn’t easy, but
living without you is pure torture. I hate coming home to find you
not there. I miss your sass, brass, and your smile. I miss kissing
you. I dream about you.”

He paused again.

She waited.

“Albany is a long way from Florida. I can’t give you a beach.
All I’ve got is longhorns and a ranch.”

“Are you proposing or-”

“I love you,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m not sure I can give
you a forever thing all at once. But I can wake up every morning
and give you that day, and maybe by the time we get to the end of
our lives, it will make up one of those forever things you talk
about. I just know that I don’t want to live another day without
you, so please say you will marry us. Please say you’ll come back
to Texas with us tomorrow. I bought an extra plane ticket.”

“Kiss me,” she barely managed to say.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, darlin’, it is a yes, yes, yes!”

The wedding took place in the Shackelford County Courthouse,
which seemed very fitting to Fancy. It was a simple affair with
only Theron’s parents, Gwen and Les, Sophie and Kate, and the
bride and groom. Theron wore his Sunday suit, and Fancy wore a
plain white dress, cowboy boots, and a new white Stetson with a
pouf of illusion at the back.

The reception was a different matter. It was held at the ranch in
the sale barn, and Gwen, along with help from Sophie, Kate, Aunt
Maud, and all the beauty-shop ladies, had transformed it into a lavish wedding hall. Tables were covered in white lace and piled high
with enough food to feed half the state of Texas. A band played on
a newly erected stage in a corner that Les had supervised the building of that week. The walls were draped with yards and yards of
white illusion and baby blue chiffon that reminded Fancy of clouds
on a summer day. The four-foot wedding cake decorated with lilies
and daisies stood on a table beside a Champagne fountain.

“I’m not sure if it’s a wedding or a high school prom,” Fancy
whispered when she and Theron walked through the archway
trimmed in flowers, lights, and illusion.

“It’s partly for your mother too, you know. She didn’t get the
white dress or fancy reception, so you’re both supposed to shut up
and enjoy this.”

Fancy’s heart welled with love and gratitude at his thoughtfulness.

“By the way, have I told you today that I think you’re gorgeous?”

“You’d better tell me I look good when you just issued an order
like `shut up and enjoy this,”’ she said, laughing.

He grinned. “Kiss me, and let’s make them all proud”

She didn’t hesitate to do so.

“Don’t they make the cutest couple?” Kate said.

“I said that from the beginning,” Sophie answered.

“And they’ll make the best parents.” Gwen hugged them both.

“Ain’t it the truth? They’re already so good together with Tina.
I can’t wait for them to have a few more of their own. Reckon it
will be soon, or will they wait a couple of years? None of us girls
is getting a bit younger,” Kate said.

Theron held out his hand after the kiss. “Shall we dance, Mrs.
Warren?”

“How long do we have to stay?”

He led her to the middle of the floor and signaled the band.
“Until your momma says we can leave. I wish I could take you to
some faraway island on a honeymoon.”

The singers sang “Real Love,” an old eighties song by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers. It talked about having real love, not infatuation; real love, not an imitation. When the song ended, he kissed her
again, and she motioned the band. They went right into “Mama,
He’s Crazy,” by the Judds.

Halfway through the song, Gwen tapped her daughter on the
shoulder, and Les took Theron’s place with Fancy.

“Do you think she hung the moon and stars like the Judds are
singing?” Gwen asked Theron.

“And the sun,” he said seriously.

“And are you crazy over her like it says?”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t tell her, though. I’d never win an argument
again.”

Gwen threw back her head and laughed. “You’re going to fit in
real well. Now go finish this dance with your bride while I find
my new granddaughter. It’s kind of nice to get one already pottytrained.”

“What did you say to Momma? She was laughing so hard,”
Fancy asked when she was back in his arms.

Theron laughed. “What is said between a son-in-law and his
mother-in-law on the wedding day does not fall under the wedding
vows that say I have to share everything with you forevermore.”

“I’ll get it out of Momma,” Fancy threatened.

“That’s your job, but I’m not telling. Now, Mrs. Warren, about
that honeymoon. We’ll take it in the summer after I’m finished at
the school.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Changing the subject?”

“No, stating a fact.”

“I don’t want a honeymoon this summer or anytime. I want to
be a wife, not a bride.”

“Hey, can a girl cut in?” Kate tapped her on the shoulder.

Kate had taken no more than two dance steps when someone
tapped Theron on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” a deep Texas
voice asked.

Kate looked up into the chiseled face of Jethro Hart Ducaine,
and her heart all but stopped as Theron stepped back and went to
look for Fancy.

Kate’s heart set up a race that she feared would pop the buttons
off the red satin dress she wore. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a friend of Theron Warren’s. I was invited. What are you
doing here?”

“Fancy is one of my best friends.”

“Small world. What’s your name?”

She wished for a gun so she could shoot him graveyard dead.
She’d do the time just to get to do the deed. “My name is Kate
Miller. You don’t remember me?”

“You grew up!”

The dance ended, and Kate stepped back. “Here’s hoping you
did too, Hart.”

She turned her back and walked away from him, her hands
shaking and her nerves raw. She grabbed a flute of Champagne
and downed it in one gulp and reached for another before the hum
in her ears stopped and she realized Gwen had the microphone.

“We want to welcome everyone with a toast. Raise your glasses
high, and if you haven’t got Champagne, waiters will be carrying
trays among you. Grab one while I make this toast. When I left
Albany for the first time years ago and then again a few weeks ago,
I said I’d never set foot in Shackelford County again. Looks like my
words came back around to bite me, because I definitely will be visiting here often. Raise’em high, everyone. To Theron and Fancy.
May they have a happy life that doesn’t end with their last breath
but goes right on through eternity.”

Later that night, after Tina was sleeping soundly in her room, they
turned out the lights, and Theron led his new bride down the hallway to their bedroom. Rose petals were strewn from the doorway
to the bed, and candlelight flickered from the dresser, the chest of
drawers, the windowsills, and every other place he had found a
place to put one of the votives.

He picked her up at the door, carried her over the threshold, and
kicked the door shut with his boot heel. “Welcome home, Fancy
Lynn Warren”