Obsession (28 page)

“Call me April, please, and with all due respect, I'm not sure it matters what I think.” Smiling, she looked from Barbara to Brad and Toni. “It seems to me that Toni and Brad should do whatever they feel is best. It's their wedding, their future home. There are so many decisions to make, even for a small wedding, aren't there? I imagine the two of them should be the ones to make those decisions.” She raised her eyebrows at Toni. “Isn't that right, my dear?”

There she goes again
, thought Toni,
reading my thoughts. Oh, April, pray for me to do the right thing. Pray for me to know what that is and to have the strength to do it
. Out loud she said, “I guess you're right. I hadn't realized how much was involved.”

“Well, let us help by taking some of the pressure off you,” said Barbara. “I know we can have the reception in the fellowship hall at church. I'll be glad to make those arrangements… if you don't mind, of course. I wouldn't want to interfere.”

Toni knew when she had lost the battle. She only hoped she hadn't lost the war. “You're not interfering at all. The fellowship hall will be fine. Thank you.”

Melissa, her smile lighting up her entire face, poured herself another glass of orange juice. “This is so great. I can't believe this wedding is finally going to happen. I've been waiting for it for so long.”

“You think it's been a long wait for
you
,” said Brad. “You should be in
my
shoes. We're talking
years
of waiting, but I can finally count the
days, and there are exactly ninety-seven of them if anyone cares to know.”

“Ninety-seven!” Barbara looked shocked. “I knew it was close, but I guess I didn't realize just how close. I can see we're going to have to get moving on this thing right away. Toni, have you looked at wedding dresses yet? We really should pick that out first thing, in case there are alterations to be made. Pastor Michael will perform the ceremony, of course. Now that we know your colors, we'll have to get started planning flowers and decorations, not to mention lining up the rest of the wedding party. We can't have poor Melissa standing up there on the platform by herself. We'll need a flower girl, a ring bearer, a best man—”

“Slow down, Mom,” Brad interrupted with a smile. “Can we finish eating first?” He turned his head to look at Toni. “We don't want to overwhelm the bride all at once.”

Toni smiled her appreciation. “Thank you. And you're right. It is a bit overwhelming.”

The conversation turned then to more mundane topics, such as the weather, clients at the Anderson and Summers law offices, George's and Brad's predictions for the upcoming football season, and what to do with all the leftover food. Before long, however, George mentioned that he thought they had forgotten to discuss the most important aspect of the wedding—the honeymoon.

“I know we agreed not to wear out this wedding subject, but I just have one thing to say,” he explained. “Barbara and I have hoped and prayed for this day almost as long as Brad. You know, Toni, that we've considered you part of the family for a long time. We're glad it's finally going to be official. As a welcoming gift, Barbara and I would like to offer you two a cruise—anywhere you'd like to go—for your honeymoon. Over the years, I've heard you both talk about how much you'd like to take a cruise someday, so why not for your honeymoon? Will you let us do that for you?”

Toni felt as if her head were spinning. A honeymoon cruise. She hadn't even gone that far in her thinking. She hadn't let her thoughts
go beyond the wedding itself. But here it was. This was it. A lifetime commitment. Her chance to back out was running short. She heard Melissa comment on what an awesome idea the cruise was. Brad, too, had responded enthusiastically. Now, with all eyes turned on her, the only thing she could think of was the date she and Brad had been on this past Friday, just two nights earlier. Throughout the evening she had forced herself to smile and laugh, to talk as animatedly as she could about their plans, even to respond—albeit briefly—to his good-night kiss at her front door. The entire time, however, her mind had been on Abe. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he thinking of her? As Brad had kissed her goodnight on the front porch, she had sensed somehow that Abe was nearby, even though she knew that was impossible. Then she had spent half the night tossing and turning in her bed, berating herself for dwelling on a man she could never have.

Toni glanced at April, the only one at the table who knew what Toni was going through at the moment. The dear woman's pale blue eyes were full of compassion.
Not right now, April. Not here. Not yet.

She looked at Brad. His face was apprehensive. She tried to smile reassuringly as she looked from Brad to George, and finally, to Barbara. “What a generous gift. Thank you both, so much. A cruise would be wonderful. We'll… have to think about… where we want to go.”

Brad kissed her on the forehead. “Your choice,” he said smiling. “It's all up to you now.”

In spite of the warm sunshine, Toni felt a chill pass over her. If only Brad knew how she agonized over such a heavy responsibility.

Melissa was tired. She had stayed at Carrie's much later than she should have the night before, having gone over there right after the brunch at the Andersons'. As soon as she had arrived and told Carrie about the cruise Brad and Toni were going to take, the two girls had
gotten so excited and caught up in discussing wedding plans and possible honeymoon destinations that they had not paid attention to the time. Now, as Melissa sat outside on the back step watching Tyler run through the sprinkler to keep cool, she thought she might join him if she just weren't so sleepy.

She yawned, then picked up her journal and began to write.
It's so romantic. I wish I knew where they were going to go for their cruise. I know where I'd go
—
the Bahamas. Or maybe the Virgin Islands. Or Jamaica. Maybe someday I'll
—

She jumped as the portable phone beside her rang loudly. Melissa always brought it outside with her just in case someone called, but almost no one ever did. She wondered now if it might be Tyler's mom calling to say she had to work late.

It wasn't. When an unfamiliar male voice asked for Janice, Melissa replied, “You must have the wrong number.”

“Oh.” The caller sounded dejected. “I'm… sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem,” said Melissa, ready to punch the “off” button, but the caller stopped her.

“Um… Excuse me, but… can I talk to you for a minute? I'm a talent scout for a filmmaker down in Hollywood, and.… Well, the reason I was calling for someone named Janice was because she answered an ad I had placed in the paper. We're looking for extras for a movie that's going to be filmed near here. It doesn't pay much, but it's a great way to break into the industry, maybe get discovered some day, you know what I mean? You have a nice voice, and I wondered if you would be interested in getting into something like that.”

Suddenly Melissa was wide awake. Someone was asking her if she wanted a part in a movie, something she had dreamed about for as long as she could remember. Surely he wasn't serious.

“This is a joke, right? You're playing a trick on me. Who are you, really?”

“Oh, no, ma'am, this is no joke. I'm quite serious, I assure you.”

The man sounded serious; he sounded nice, too, and he had called her “ma'am.” That was a first. Maybe it wasn't a joke after all.

“Well, I… I don't know. I'd… have to talk to my older sister about it.”

“Tell you what. Take some time to think about it first, but keep it to yourself until you decide. I'll call you back next week sometime. Then, if you're interested, we can both talk to your sister. How does that sound?”

It sounded great, but Melissa didn't want to appear foolish, in case the caller really was playing a joke on her. “I… guess so,” she answered, trying to keep her voice casual.

“Good. Like I said, I'll call back next week, maybe Tuesday or Wednesday. Will you be there?”

“Sure. I'm here every day, Monday through Friday, baby-sitting.”

“Great. Remember, keep this to yourself until we talk next week. Deal?”

Melissa hesitated. She didn't even know this guy's name, and here she was making a deal with him. She had a feeling Toni would not approve. Still, what could it hurt? It wasn't like she was committing to an audition or anything. Besides, if the call turned out to be a prank and she didn't hear back from him, she wouldn't be embarrassed at having told someone about it.

“OK. I'll keep it to myself until you call back. But… what's your name? I don't even know who you are.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. My name is Carlo. And you are?”

“Melissa. Melissa Matthews.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Matthews. I'll look forward to talking with you next week.”

It wasn't until she had clicked off the phone that she realized he hadn't told her his last name.
Oh well
, she thought.
I'll find out next week, unless, of course, he doesn't call back. Either way, I guess it doesn't really matter right now.

It had been two months since Abe had visited his Uncle Sol, although he had seen him a couple of times when he had stopped in at the station. He had been surprised when Rosalie called over the weekend and invited him to dinner on Wednesday, even though he was sure she had done so at Sol's request. Abe didn't particularly care for the redhead who currently shared his uncle's home, but then he doubted she cared much for him either. Still, if Uncle Sol got it into his mind that he wanted Abe there for dinner on a particular night, Rosalie probably didn't have much say in the matter. But, sitting now at Sol's table, Abe had to admit—although grudgingly—that Rosalie had done a good job on the roast, and she had even baked an apple pie for dessert.

When they couldn't eat another bite, the two men retired to Sol's office, leaving Rosalie to clean up. Abe was glad to escape her company. His uncle could be difficult and more than a little demanding, but Abe loved Sol and enjoyed being with him—most of the time—as long as it didn't include Rosalie.

They had no sooner settled onto the leather couch than Sol lit up a cigar. As he had so many times over the years, he offered one to Abe. As always, Abe declined.

Sol shook his head. “You don't know what you're missing, boy. There's nothing like a good cigar after a big meal. Settles your stomach.”

Abe doubted that but decided not to comment on it. “So, how have you been feeling? Has your leg been bothering you much?”

“Nah. No more than usual, anyway. But when the weather turns cool in a month or so, then it'll start acting up. I can just about walk without a limp during the summer, but the dampness kills me.” He puffed his cigar and frowned. “You know, before I took that bullet I used to love the rainy winters up here. Now they just remind me of the creep that left me hobbled and forced me into retirement. Maybe I should move to Tucson or Phoenix; what do you think?”

“I think you'd hate it. You never liked hot weather.”

Sol chewed his cigar. “I suppose you're right. Guess I'll just stay here and be miserable.”

Abe suppressed a smile. Maybe he didn't like Rosalie much, but he almost felt sorry for her during the long, gray winter season. He could only imagine what it would be like to live with Uncle Sol, especially when he was cooped up in the house for months with a bum leg. Maybe she earned her keep after all.

He thought of some of the other women who had occupied his uncle's home since the death of Sol's wife, Patty, and their only child, an infant son named Michael, both of whom were killed in an auto accident nineteen years earlier when they were hit by a drunk driver on their way to a restaurant to meet Sol for dinner. Sol had blamed himself for not driving the extra fifteen minutes from the station to pick them up rather than asking them to meet him. When the driver had gotten off with a two-year suspended sentence and several hours of community service, the grief-stricken man had been furious, going on a two-week drunken binge and threatening to kill the driver if he ever saw him face-to-face.

Fortunately that didn't happen, and Sol had settled down and returned to work after that one binge, giving up drinking all together. Shortly thereafter, a parade of attractive although somewhat cheap-looking women had begun to make their way through Sol's life, living in his home for weeks or months, until he tired of them and moved them out in favor of a new playmate. None of them had been anything like Patty, Abe thought—not as genuinely pretty, and certainly not as sweet or intelligent. “Bimbos” was how Sol referred to them, and Abe thought it an appropriate description. Rosalie fit the bill perfectly, although, he had to admit, she seemed to have more staying power than any of her predecessors, having been with Sol slightly over a year now. Abe wished his uncle would stop wasting his time with these cardboard cutout imitations and meet a real woman, one he could love and who would love him in return. The one time Abe had
suggested it, Sol had told him in no uncertain terms that he had experienced real love once and that it was irreplaceable, so he had no intention of looking for the impossible. Abe felt a stab of pain as he wondered if he had already found his one true love and then lost her before ever having the chance to experience the joy of having her in his life, even for a little while, as his uncle had with Patty.