Morning Glory (25 page)

Briar carried two suitcases up the stairs. Bessie's, he
slipped into a guest room. Clara's went to Judith's old
room. He missed Judith. She'd know what to do about
this situation with Clara. He could discuss it with her
and she'd give some well thought out advice. But she
was twenty-four hours gone.

He whispered to the reflection of a bewildered man
in the vanity mirror. "Why didn't I realize how much I
cared before she left?"

Clara paused outside the door and picked up every
word. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to streak down her face, but she willed them back.
Anger filled her breast. How could she have ever fallen
for a man who was still in love with his ex-wife? Talk
about a typical triangle. She wiped at her face with the
back of her hand and stumbled toward the stairs.

"Clara?" Briar said.

"What?" she snapped.

"Are you crying?"

"Hell's bells, no!"

"Then what is the matter?" he asked.

"What's the matter? You're totally blind and stupid
and ignorant," she snapped at him.

"What brought that on?"

"I told you yesterday. You can't get over Lorianne
and now you've proven it. Standing there in that bedroom and saying what you did."

He almost blushed. He certainly hadn't expected her
to overhear him talking to himself. "What did I say?"

"That you should have told her how much you cared
before she left. Well, only two women have left. I don't
expect you were talking about your sister. So that leaves
Lorianne, doesn't it?" She wished she'd never humored
Libby and agreed to come to his house.

"Why do you care anyway?"

"Because you are ... because I do," she stammered.

"I was talking to one of those women and about
another one, neither of which were Lorianne," he
explained.

"Now you are talking in riddles."

Libby yelled from the foot of the staircase. "Daddy,
Daddy, Miss Bessie and me are going to see the kitties!"

"Okay, Libby. Clara and I will be there soon." He
looked down at his lovely daughter, not seeing her
mother at all, but a four-year-old child that amazingly
looked a lot like Clara with her big blue eyes and dark
hair.

"Okaaay." She drew out the word and dashed off to
the parlor where she grabbed Bessie by the hand and
led her through the foyer and dining room and out the
kitchen door.

"I didn't mean to talk in riddles. I had a problem and
I realized how often I'd talked to Judith when I couldn't
solve something. I was missing her, that's all," he told
Clara, who had folded her arms across her chest.

"It's none of my business," she said flatly.

"Probably not," he agreed. "Shall we go see Libby's
kitties?" He started down the stairs before Clara.

"Of course" She followed behind him, until she
caught the heel of her shoe on the stair pad and tumbled
forward.

He'd barely cleared the last step when he heard her
gasp. He turned quickly only to see her falling toward
him, clutching for anything to break the fall and catching nothing but air. When she got close enough, she
wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him
down with her. When it was all said and done, they
were both tangled up on the foyer floor. He'd broken
her fall and was flat on his back. She was on top of him
with skirt tails all askew and her face barely three inches from his.

That's when Inez Potter stuck her head in the front
door and yelled, "Yoo hooo, Mr. Nelson, are you
home?"

Clara and Briar were frozen in a tableau that would
set all of society on its ear. Neither of them could move and the look on Inez's face was nothing short of pure
shock. Her eyes came nigh to popping right out of her
head. Her mouth was puckered up in a perfect little
round circle. She was halfway in the house and halfway
still on the porch and couldn't make herself stay in or
back out. Like two animals, they were breeding on the
foyer floor with his little girl giggling not a hundred
feet away on the back porch.

"I just fell down the stairs," Clara explained, breathlessly.

"Sure you did," Inez snapped at her. "We all knew
you were crazy as an outhouse rat, Clara Anderson, but
we figured you for a decent man, Mr. Nelson."

Briar righted Clara first and then sat up right beside
her, his thigh still touching hers. "Don't you talk about
Clara like that. She's telling you the truth. She fell
down the stairs. Clara, are you hurt?"

"You're going to take up for her?" Inez let herself
into the house.

Bessie peeked in from the kitchen. "What's going on
here? Inez, I thought I heard your voice."

Inez pointed at Bessie. "Yes, you did. What are you
doing here?"

"Not that it's a bit of your business, but I'm here with
Clara. The two of us are staying with Libby at night for
a while until she gets used to her aunt being gone. And
you'd best put that finger away before I break it off.
Now tell me what are you doing? Looks like you're
ready to bite nails."

"I came to talk to Mr. Nelson about keeping his
daughter for him. I don't think a child should be left
with Clara," she said.

"Clara loves my child and does fine with her. Not
that it's your business." Briar stood and offered Clara a
hand to help her.

She wasn't at all surprised to find that just his touch
set her heart to humming and her nerves on edge. After
all, she was in love with the man.

"Well, if that's the way you feel, I'll be going," Inez
huffed.

"Don't let the door hit you in the hind end," Bessie
told her.

When she had sped off in her Model T, Bessie
turned around to find Clara and Briar looking at opposite walls. "I'm going back out there and play with
Libby. You two need to talk seriously. Lock the front
door and don't answer it even if God knocks. Get on in
the parlor and don't come out until you've spoken your
piece."

Briar locked the door. Clara marched into the parlor,
sat down on the settee and waited.

He stood in the door, leaning against the door jamb.
"You going first or am I?"

"You."

"Okay, I was lying on your bed and suddenly I realized I'd fallen in love with you. I didn't mean to but I did,
and that sounds dumb, like I'm a sixteen-year-old boy.
I'm divorced, Clara. Even if I did fall in love with you, it doesn't mean anything could happen. You deserve so
much more than a divorced man with a child."

"Is that a proposal?"

"No. I can't propose to you because I'm afraid of
rejection."

"Well" She sucked in a lungful of air and opened her
mouth. Nothing came out. Her mouth was dry. She tried
again. Her heart skipped every other beat. "I came to
the same conclusion at the same time."

"What? That you deserve more?"

"What about your heart?" Clara asked. "What about
mine? Did you say you love me?"

"I did. Surprised the hell out of me, but I do, and I
think I knew it a long time ago. Probably that night
Percy's widow came to visit."

"I love you, too, Briar, and I think I knew it even
before then. I've fought it but can't get you out of my
heart. Libby is the icing on the cake. Let me be the
judge of what I deserve or don't. And who are you to
talk? You're getting the village idiot. If you don't
believe me, ask Inez Potter."

Briar crossed the room in a dozen long strides, drew
Clara up into an embrace. He kissed her eyelids, her
nose, coming finally to her lips where he lingered for
several long kisses. He finally drew away slightly to
look at her beaming face. "If you ever refer to yourself
like that again, we are going to fight"

"I imagine we will many times before we die," she
laid her head on his chest.

"Clara Anderson, will you marry me?" he asked. "I
don't have a ring and I'm not down on one knee begging, but this is an honest, sincere proposal"

"Yes, I will," Clara said, "but let's don't tell anyone
just yet. I need time to let it soak in."

"You be the judge of when it's told and when we set
a date. That doesn't matter. What does is that I love you
with my whole heart. Did you hear me? My whole
heart. There's no one else there. I give you my word
that you're the only woman in my life. There is a little
girl, but I think we can share her."

"Yes, we can share Libby. And, Briar, I believe you.
The past is nothing but ashes for both of us," she said,
pulling his head down for another kiss to seal the hope
of a bright future.

Clara picked up a new suitcase sitting beside the
front door. "I'm going to town now, Dulcie," she called
toward the kitchen.

"It's about that time." Dulcie dried her hands on the
tail of her starched apron. It had to be nigh on to 10:00.

"If anyone comes askin' about the extra room,
there's a contract right here." Clara pulled a single
piece of paper from the drawer of the oak credenza and
laid it beside fresh roses floating in a crystal bowl. She
adjusted her hat just so, pulled on her gloves and
checked her reflection one last time in the mirror above
the credenza.

"I know. Rent is still thirty dollars a month and that
includes the breakfast. Supper is another fifty cents a
day." Dulcie wiped her hands on her apron and hugged Clara. "Honey, stay home please. Do you really have
to go?"

"What would the people talk about if I didn't? And,
Dulcie, don't you go renting that room to just anyone.
Another widow woman would be nice."

"Yes, Miss Clara," Dulcie shook her head hard
enough that all three chins wobbled, and prayed before
she let go of Clara. "Sweet Jesus, can't you do somethin' about this mess. She's not crazy. She's smart and
pretty. Does it have to be this way?"

Clara stopped and took one long look at the Morning
Glory Inn from the street. There had been two men
boarders there in the last ten years. One broke her heart.
The other put it back together. She'd miss the place, but
it was time to move on to a fuller, better life. She meandered four blocks down Main Street and took her seat on
the bench in front of the drug store. She set the suitcase
beside her, smoothed the skirt of her simple white lace
wedding dress, adjusted her hat and folded her hands in
her lap. It was a lovely fall day. No wind. Sunny. One of
those rare mornings when she didn't even need a sweater.

"Clara, darlin', how're you today? Nervous?" Tilly
sat down beside her cousin on the bench.

"Doin' fine. Not a bit nervous. This is what I want.
I'm happier than I've ever been" Clara nodded.
"How're you?"

"Been busy. You look beautiful," Tilly told her.

"So do you. You look just like a bridesmaid."

"That I do. Don't see a preacher, though."

Clara laughed. Not a giggle, but a full-fledged laugh
that echoed up and down the dusty dirt streets of
Healdton, Oklahoma.

"Mornin', Clara and Tilly," Tucker Anderson tipped
his hat at his cousins and sat down on the bench with
them. "Hot enough for you today?"

"Why, honey, it'd scorch the hair off a frog's tongue.
But I'm not complainin'. Winter will be here soon
enough. I'm glad for a lovely day," Clara said. "Come
and sit with us. I haven't seen you since last week
sometime. Beulah and Bessie say that you're still welcome to drop by for supper any time you want"

"Clara, this is so unusual. You sure this is the way
you want to do things? You know there's money in your
account. You could do this up right. Reception. The
whole nine yards. Big thing like Judith had. Come
home with me and let's think this through" Tucker took
her hand in his.

"This is what I want. To sit on the bench and for you
two to send me off," she told him.

Before Tucker could answer, Briar Nelson pulled up
in front of the drug store. In view of everyone on Main
Street and Inez Potter who was peeking out the
sparkling clean store window, he loaded her suitcase in
the car. Then he scooped her up into his arms and gave
her a passionate, lingering kiss on the lips. He carried
her to the car and placed her inside.

He waved at Tucker and Tilly before he started the
engine. "We'll see you in a week," he called out.

"I love you both," Clara called out. She picked up a
bouquet of roses and tossed it out the window. Tucker
stepped back and Tilly caught it.

She and Briar would stop at the courthouse in
Ardmore for a simple ceremony, and then they were on
a weeklong honeymoon that could take them anywhere
or nowhere. As long as she was with Briar, she didn't
care where they went, just so they collected Libby from
Judith and Cecil the next week and brought her home
with them. Home where she'd live the rest of her life
with Briar Nelson ... until death parted them, because
that's the only thing that could.

A silly dreamer, that's what folks called Clara
Anderson. Dreaming of the day when the love of her
life would pick her up in front of the drug store and
carry her away to live happily ever after.