On The Dotted Line (19 page)

All
the men huddled around the pool table, blocking his view. The yelling died down.
As if they were participating in some strange unknown ritual, they threw some
money into the center of the mix.

Slate
added his money and waved him over. “You have to see this.”

Unable
to spy what captivated all the men, Randolph shoved himself into the
overcrowded room, joining his friend. “What is it?”

“I
have no doubt why you married Willow.” He pointed to the table. “It was
definitely for her dog.”

Randolph
pushed aside someone he didn’t know to peer down at the table. His knees went
weak at the sight of the fluffy, furry cue ball.

“Okay,
okay.” From across the table his father scooped up the money, patted Jeb and
put the eight ball in front of him. “Eight ball in the side pocket.”

Damn
if the little dog didn’t push the ball with his nose. The men called to him and
whistled as Jeb made his way around the green felt, a custom artificial yard
for one pampered pet. The dog growled and tried to bite the ball, rounding two
corners until at last he nudged the ball into one of the side pockets.

Once
more the room went wild.

“Good
boy!” His father held out his hand.

One
of the staff held a silver platter out and Junior chose a little cracker, not
one of Nan’s handmade biscuits.

“A
delicacy for the dog.” His father held his finger up. Jeb sat down and the man
placed the cracker into his mouth. “A dog with the taste for caviar.”

The
room broke into applause once Jeb crunched down.

“Caviar!”
Randolph maneuvered his way to the edge of the table. “Jeb cannot eat caviar!”

At
the sound of his name, Jeb turned and trotted over to him.

He
scooped up the animal and cradled him to his chest.

“That
is the best caviar.” His father stood. “Over two hundred an ounce.”

“Jeb
is on a special diet.” He held the dog up to his face, trying not to melt at
the three black dots that created Jeb’s two eyes and his nose. Fine, he liked
the dog. Maybe a little more than liked.

Jeb
licked his nose.

He
swore his teeth hurt. There was a reason they called it puppy love.

“Come
on, Jeb is cleaning up. We will be able to buy him his own wing soon.” His
father let out a hearty laugh.

“Well,
why don’t we give him a little break?” He hated to stop the fun, but he was
quite certain his wife wouldn’t appreciate her pet being used for monetary
bets. “I need to go locate my wife.”

“All
right, probably a good idea on both counts. The billiard table is still dry.” His
father waved him away.

Without
hesitation, he took advantage of his dismissal. Armed with his bit of adorable
ammunition, he went to find Willow.

While
he may not know much about his wife’s past, he knew at least one item about her
present. Once more he made it through the house, out the back door and headed
toward the fruit trees. On more than one occasion he came home to find his
spouse and Jeb wandering the garden.

He
spotted her shoes before he found her, but like a trail of breadcrumbs it led
him down one row to find her holding the hem of her dress up and simply
studying one of the trees. “I take it back, I’m not proud of you.”

She
turned.

“I
mean I am, but not in the way it came out.” He walked down the aisle.

“I
don’t think I’ve done anything to make either of us proud.” She wrapped her
arms around her shoulders.

“It’s
just one of the many things we can differ on.” He joined her and handed her the
dog.

“I
needed a break. I don’t know if I can face them right now.” She put Jeb down
and allowed him to sniff and explore. “Do they know not to say anything?”

He
appreciated her concern. “They do and they understand, don’t worry. It’s all
good.” Fine, he sugar coated the situation. He stepped toward the tree, taking
his time to examine a leaf. The citrus scent floated around them. Jade’s
question from earlier echoed in his head. He wanted to reclaim what they had at
the party, or those incredible few days before the dinner. “What I don’t
understand is how my father taught Jeb how to play billiards. I rescued him. He
ate some caviar, I hope that’s all right.”

“He
ate caviar?”

He
nodded.

“You
like Jeb.” She let out a chuckle.

“Guilty.”
He shook his head.

“What’s
the difference between pool and billiards?”

“Pool
is what you play in a bar. Billiards is what you play at my house.” He exhaled.
“I really have no idea.”

“Thank
you for whatever you said to Slate and Jade.” She stepped closer. “You were
right. Hiding didn’t work.”

At
seeing his opportunity, he took her in her arms. First, she tensed but then
rested her head against his shoulder. “Funny what comes back to bite us.” In a
way, his situation was no different. Both he and his father hid the truth from
his mother, and except for a select few no one knew he had to get married or
lose everything.

She
nodded. “Sort of like not having a more refined back-up for your wife?”

“Actually,
that worked out in my favor.” No, maybe she wasn’t his typical choice, but he
couldn’t picture anyone else in her role. Was that the answer to Jade’s
question?

She
looked up at him.

“What’s
your favorite food?” He studied her. Though gorgeous all dolled up by the
makeup artists, he thought he preferred her as her natural self.

“I
can’t tell you, it would be bad for my reputation.” She gave him a slight
smile.

“Come
on. Lay it on me.”

“Rib
eye steak, rare.”

“Sounds
good.” He laughed. A juicy piece of meat. Intriguing. “What were you like as a
child?”

The
scant bit of humor lighting up her eyes dimmed and she shrugged.

“Where
did you live? Where did you grow up? How did you end up with Nan?” He finally
dared ask only a few of the questions piling up in his mind.

She
turned away.

The
more she didn’t answer, the more he wanted to know. “Willow.”

“Why
is it so important?” She refused to look his way.

“I
want to understand you.” He took her chin in his hand and turned her face
toward him.

“Why?”
Her eyes searched his.

“Because
I want to.” He lowered his face to hers. “Because right now I don’t care that
there are people asking where we are, because I don’t care that you’re standing
barefoot outside at night, because you are here with me and I want to know.”

“Do
you think we could go to Sedona before we go to Vermont?” She reached up and
moved his hair off his forehead. “I think it will put us back on balance.”

His
only image of Sedona was hippies and red rocks, though her talk of balance
sounded promising. “If I say yes, will you let me in?”

“I
need you to open your mind and celebrate the return of the light with me.”

His
wife spoke her own language. “I will head toward the light.” The light better
be where he found some answers.

Jeb
trotted over.

“We
should get back to the house.” She bent down and picked him up.

“You
are right, Mrs. Van Ayers.” He picked up her shoes, took her hand and headed
toward the house when he heard the sound of a woman’s laughter.

They
both stopped.

“
Cuidado
con las manos
, Vincent.”

Willow
squeezed his arm. “Randolph, that’s Nan.”

“What
did she say?” He loosened Willow’s grip.

“What
did you say, Nanette?” The definite sound of kissing made its way to their
ears. “My gorgeous, voluptuous Nanette.”

“I
said watch your hands, Mr. Hartford.” Nan giggled some more. “And your tongue.”

He
and Willow looked at each other.

With
wide eyes and a grimace, Willow put her hand to her chest. “Are they having
sex?”

Oh
Lord he prayed not. “He’s using his tongue somewhere.”

“I
knocked a glass out of Ms. Hartford’s hand earlier.” Willow handed him Jeb and
hid her face in his shoulder.

“Well,
it doesn’t sound as if her brother is holding it against you.” Unwilling to
witness his client and his sort of mother-in-law using their tongues or
anything else, he guided her the long way back to the house.

“Will
you come with me to go freshen up?”

“Yes,
I will.” He kept his dog and his wife close, snuck into the kitchen and headed
right for the laundry room.

“Thank
you for taking Jeb out for some air.” Still, she didn’t move.

“I
suppose we all need air, and I suppose they have a lot of it in Sedona.” He put
Jeb down and gave her a hug, liking a bit too much how she stayed close by his
side. Once more, Jade’s question echoed in his mind. “Yes, we need air and
balance.”

He
supposed he would get the answers in Sedona.

The
pounding of the drum matched the pounding in Randolph’s head, while some
squealing flute reverberated through his skull causing him to wince. After a
forty-five minute walk through the Arizona wilderness, carrying a backpack of
his and Willow’s clothing and supplies, he saw nothing but red, literally. Everything
around him was red, the rocks, the ground, and the sky. Unless someone produced
some nice red lips in a convenient spot, he was completely done with the color.

When
he agreed to go to Sedona, he pictured a spa. The type his mother frequented on
vacation. She would leave in the morning to be massaged, exfoliated and
polished, while his father played golf, went to a casino or did whatever his
father did when the man wasn’t handing out orders. Several hours later his
mother would return rejuvenated and primped so they could go to dinner. Yes, he
expected a spa maybe mixed with some incense and granola. He never thought he
would be hiking to a clearing in the woods preparing to spend the night in a
tent.

Actually,
he would have gladly spent the night in a tent, on a dirt floor, or on another
planet if he could get his wife to speak to him about anything other than the
weather. The Willow who watched him, blushed and blundered, but then made love
to him disappeared completely after the party and left in her wake a quiet,
distant woman who seemed to avoid him at every turn. After the business dinner
gone bad they traveled over rocky terrain, but the night of the party he
thought they moved beyond. Apparently, he was mistaken because in the three weeks
since the party the woman seemed intent on ignoring him.

Rather
than a celebration of the winter solstice, he should have gone on a vision
quest. His vision – Willow, his quest – figure out his wife.

“Welcome
Willow, Nanette.” A woman in an embroidered orange robe took their hands in
hers. “I am so blessed to see you again.”

“Suzanne.”
Willow motioned toward him. “May I present Randolph Van Ayers?”

Along
with losing the flushing cheeks and the sex, he lost his title along the way. He
flashed the woman a smile and held out his hand. “The husband.”

“Oh,
I expected big changes for Willow this year.” She gave him her hand. “Is this
your first experience with welcoming the light?”

“Yes.”
With night upon them, he flipped up his sunglasses and looked the woman right
in the eye.

She
smiled. “I will be your Shaman guiding you through this journey.”

“Then
may I ask you a question?”

“Of
course, ask anything.” She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Will
the light also lead the way to truth? A time for full disclosure to welcome in
the New Year?” He needed to plant the seeds.

Willow
turned to him. “Randolph.”

“Randolph
is right. Use this time for reflection of yourself and of your relationship.” Shaman
Suzanne reclaimed Willow’s hand. “Oh, I feel it.”

“What?”
Willow’s voice took on a dreamy tone.

“The
energy between you two.” The woman closed her eyes. “It’s a thunderstorm and
when it hits the ground it creates fire. Harness that power and together the
two of you will do great things.”

Well,
they may not create actual fire, but Willow’s cheeks went up in flames turning
positively red, the color of the hour. Maybe there was one shade he could still
tolerate.

“What
about Nan? What do you feel with her?” Willow deftly deflected the attention
away from her.

The
Shaman opened her eyes, put Willow’s hand in his and turned to Nan.

Along
with him, Nan was also in Willow’s doghouse. At least he wasn’t alone. Since
Mr. Hartford put his hands and his tongue to use, Willow widened her distance. The
few conversations he caught between the two only dealt with topics regarding
the store or Jeb.

“Nanette.”
The woman nodded. “A bit of excitement you haven’t had in a long time is
sizzling through you. Make sure you take advantage and take care of yourself.”

Nan
simply laughed.

Willow
dug her nails into his hand.

He
winced, but since she didn’t pull away, he didn’t move.

“Why
don’t you join the drum and flute performance and spirit dance? We will then be
retiring to our tents to reflect on the solstice and awake for a sunrise
stretch. We will take your bags so you can enjoy.” Suzanne gave them a smile
and two men came over and held their hands out.

Nan
surrendered her satchel. Only because he was out of his element did he
surrender his backpack. Also, because he hated backpacks.

“Go
enjoy the earth and each other.” Like a theatrical performer, Shaman Suzanne
motioned behind her as if welcoming them on stage.

He
let Willow lead the way to a circle marked off by stones. In the center some
musicians played and other attendees of the event gathered around.

Willow
chose her spot and sat right in the dirt. He took a breath, glanced down at his
jeans to bid them adieu and sat next to her. Gravel seemed to cut through the
denim, but he swallowed back his complaint, instead remembering that Willow
owed him a talk and he wanted her to be comfortable.

He
scanned the area. Willow fit right in here with her billowing clothes and hair,
her lack of obsession with material goods and the need to connect with her
surroundings. Why couldn’t he get her to connect with him?

For
a moment he simply watched her, took in her profile, with her perfect upturned
nose and her pouty lips. Even without makeup her lashes extended long, creating
the ideal frame to her eyes. Maybe rather than her connecting with him, he
needed to connect with her.

He
moved her hair off her shoulder. “Tell me about the music.”

“It
just speaks about the sacredness of life. It celebrates the return of the
light, the New Year.” She leaned into him. “Close your eyes and try to feel the
music rather than just listen.”

Fine,
he would try it her way, but before shutting his eyes he took her hand.

The
music continued and he tried to experience it in a new way. He concentrated on
the throb of the drum, the lightness of the flute and how Willow’s hand finally
relaxed in his. Her hand fit within his, soft, smooth, small. He brushed his
fingers against her wrist and smiled after he found her pulse.

“What
is it?”

“Your
heartbeat matches the beat of the music.” He opened his eyes.

Once
more, her cheeks reddened. “Randolph.”

“What
made you interested in all this?” He pulled her closer and brought her hand to
his heart. “Tell me something, anything.”

She
stared into his face.

“Was
it Nan? Did you grow up with her?” He needed some clue as to what made his wife
his wife.

She
licked her lips. “Nan told me to choose what I believe in.”

He
waited.

“I
believe in a higher power, I just never knew what.” She looked beyond him. “I
didn’t want to exclude any belief, so I tried to be open to all of them. I’m
really looking forward to Christmas.”

Her
words replayed in his mind. At last she gave him something. “You never
celebrated Christmas before?”

“You
never celebrated a solstice before.”

“You
never celebrated the more traditional holidays then.” He moved over into her
line of vision.

As
he learned, she answered how she answered any question she wanted to avoid, with
silence, or sometimes an added attraction of a shrug. With his question he got
the shrug as well.

A
weight settled right in the center of his chest. No Christmas? No holiday? Even
in his insane asylum of a home, they had all the trappings of the holidays,
simple things that served to ground them as a family. He could count on his
mother being more excited over the gifts than anyone and his father buying his
way out. As a child his grandfather always purchased the gift he wasn’t
supposed to have and his grandmother allowed the junk food. “Willow.”

The
music ended.

“We
need to go get settled in the tent.” She used him for leverage and stood.

Once
more she put him off, but they made headway and rather than forcing the
situation, he got up and together they found their tent.

Tent.

“This
is a tent.” Though he spied the little triangles set up around the campsite, he
didn’t really expect to be staying in a tent. Honestly, he assumed they were
only for show and somewhere off in the distance there would be some sort of
building or a bus to take them to a proper hotel.

“Right,
I told you we would be staying in a tent.” She pulled back the flap. “You never
went to summer camp or anything?”

“I
went to summer camp.” He bent down and peered inside neglecting to tell her
they stayed in cabins and had a staff that waited on them. In truth, the cabins
were more like five-star hotels. Well, four-star, they were roughing it. At
least their backpack found its way back to them, and took up a good portion of
the space. “Ladies first.”

Willow
took off her shoes and crawled in.

He
followed suit, slipping and landing on an air mattress. “That was unexpected.” As
unexpected as the skylight in the roof he spotted when he rolled over. At least
the place wouldn’t be claustrophobic.

“You’ll
be okay.” Willow grabbed their backpack.

“I’m
not so sure about that.” He watched her dig through their bag.

“I
made us some food, are you hungry?”

Not
quite sure if there was any such thing as a solstice feast, he nodded. “I don’t
think you have made me anything to eat yet.” Curious, he wanted to discover
what she would produce.

“Nan
may be allowed in the kitchen, but I think Clara and Chef would rather me stay
far away.” She giggled and proceeded to take out some containers with fruit,
cheese and crackers and some cookies.

“I
have no doubt you are welcome to cook or do whatever you please anywhere in the
house.” He sat up. “They probably just want to serve you.”

“I
always feel bad having them do things for me, especially when I can do for
myself.” She arranged her treats on a plate and put it between them.

“You’ll
get used to it.” He sampled one of the cheese and crackers.

“Is
everything tasting good?” She handed him a bottle of water.

She
didn’t respond to his comment, but he let it slide. Instead, he opened the
bottle and tilted it in her direction. “Best I ever had.”

She
smiled.

They
sat in silence and finished their makeshift meal. He reclined on the mattress
and stared up at the ceiling. The top of the tent consisted of some plastic and
mesh giving him a window to the sky. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh
really?” She took a sip of water and adjusted her pillow.

“I’ve
never spent the night in a tent before. I also never spent a day in tent
before.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She
gasped, let out a noise and coughs wracked her body.

“Willow?”
He shot up and grabbed her, patting her back. “Are you all right?”

She
caught her breath and went into a round of laughter.

He
put his arms around her and joined her.

With
laughter still claiming her, she collapsed against him.

He
lay back, taking her with him and for the first time ever, they simply laughed
together.

At
last the giggles died down. “I never pictured you the type to go camping.”

“I
never pictured you the type to either, but in a different way.”

“I’ve
spent many nights in a tent.” She started to push away from him.

Again,
she let something out and he held her in place. “Stay here.”

“We
are supposed to use this time for reflection.” She moved until she lay by his
side.

“I’m
trying to use it for enlightenment.” He turned to her. “About you.”

“I
don’t know what you want.” Her breath brushed against his lips. “There’s
nothing to tell.”

“I
disagree.” He reached down and took her hand. “I want to learn about you, why
won’t you tell me?”

She
flipped over to her back. “The stars are amazing.”

He
ground his teeth together. If they were celebrating the light, her New Year, he
needed some answers. “Willow.”

“Are
you going to be able to sleep here?”

“Why
would you ask?” He balled his hand in a fist.

“Last
year I spent my time staring at the stars. This year the first thing I noticed
was the air mattress.”

He
willed himself to remain quiet.

“The
mattress back in your room is incredible. It’s just perfect. I never understood
why you have a problem sleeping there. The other day I looked under the sheets
and found the label with the manufacturer. I think if I buy nothing else next
year, I’m going to buy that brand of mattress.”