Palmetto Moon (15 page)

Frank grew up with Labs, black and yellow, but after his daddy passed and Buck died of a broken heart, he swore he’d never own another dog. As much as Frank hates to admit it, this little dog is cute as hell. She’s as prissy as Vada is, not in the annoying way some girls are. The pair of them is beautiful, delicate. The pup piddles in the sand, and Vada acts like it’s won a prize.

“You like this? Us. Together.” She nods, spreading out the sandwiches from the sack, and gives the pup little bits of turkey. “Me or the dog?”

She grins and punches his arm. He throws the food back in the sack and pulls her on top of him, so she is draped across his chest. She rests her head against him, sighing, content. He likes not asking for permission to kiss her but loves the invitation when she tilts her face toward his and closes her eyes. Their lips touch, and the dog starts yipping. Frank tries to kiss her longer, deeper, but she starts laughing, scoops the little thing up, and nestles it between them.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” Frank breathes out the words slowly, making lazy circles on Vada’s back. “To be honest, I’m jealous.” She laughs, and the dog wiggles out from between them and yips like it’s Rin Tin Tin, trying to say something. Judging from her expression and dainty growl, she’s telling him to take a hike.

Frank can feel Vada smiling against his chest. She runs her fingers over the soft black curls, and the little dog stops. “You have nothing to be jealous of, Frank. I loved you first.”

She squeals when Frank flips her over onto her back, and she can hardly catch her breath. “Oh really? I bring you all the way to Memphis. I’m expecting more than first, Vada Hadley.” He covers her neck in breathy kisses so that it makes her giggle, and she makes a lame attempt to fight him off. “Say you love me best. Say it.” He drives her crazy, until she pushes him away just enough so Frank can see her face all flush, and beautiful. And happy.

“I love you best.”

“If you people are going to behave such as this, you can pack up and move on.” They bolt upright. Vada fixes her dress while the cop smacks his billy club against the palm of his hand like they’re hardened criminals. He’s a mountain of a man, with a funny accent, Irish maybe, and looks like he’d like to give them a whack. “Only decent people here. And children. Straighten up.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank starts to pick some grass out of Vada’s hair but thinks better of it. “Just came here for a picnic. That’s all.”

“Well, see to it that it is all,” he says, casting a long shadow over them as he walks away.

Frank eats his sandwich and watches her with the fluff ball. As much as he wants Vada to himself, he can’t help but think what a great mother she’ll be to their little towheads someday. Sometimes, it feels like they’re close enough to forever to reach out and touch it. But what will happen when they go back to Round O and there’s no dilemma, or even a little dog, to bring them together? What happens after Vada settles this thing with Wentworth and goes back to the boardinghouse? When she starts her job? His stomach tightens. The words shoot out of him like fireworks, explosive and beautiful. “Marry me.”

She sucks in her breath like he’s shot her through the heart. There’s a hint of a smile, but she looks terrified. “Marry you?”

“Yes.” He uses the dog as a shield because, for the love of Pete, he can’t read this woman just now. “I know it’s just been a few days, but I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I could, well, I don’t want to. I want you, Vada.”

Children squeal. Women laugh. Chains clank against playground equipment, but she says nothing. God, why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut and eat his sandwich? But the pig is out of the poke. “I know you’re thinking we barely know each other and it’s too soon, but it’s not. I love you, Vada.”

Frank’s proposal has me paralyzed. As much as I want to be with him, the thought of running from one groom into the arms of another is more than enough to give me pause. I’ve had a taste of independence, and I love making my own decisions. I don’t know if Frank is the kind of guy who would want to take that away from me. If he’s the kind who’s fool enough to try.

“I’m sorry.” He’s embarrassed. “I thought—”

“Frank, I do love you. I love the way I feel when we’re together, and when we’re apart, I’m counting the minutes until I see you again. And your proposal—”

“Look, I know this is spur of the moment, but I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted to spend forever with you.” He presses my hand between his hands and kisses my fingertips. “Vada, for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted something else out of life. I thought I’d find it going off to war, but that didn’t happen. Now I know that it’s you; you’re what I’ve been waiting for all along, and all I want to do is make you mine.”

Frank’s been so open and honest with me, it would be wrong not to tell him how I really feel. “I am yours, Frank. But for the first time in my life, I’m mine, too. I don’t want to give anything up right now, not you. Not my freedom.”

He’s desperate to read my face. The corners of my mouth turn up to reassure him, but I can’t stop thinking about the girls I knew during college who married soldiers they had only known a few hours. It seemed wildly romantic at the time, them being swept off their feet after a few dances, giving themselves to men who were going into battle. Surely they regretted getting caught up in the moment.

My roommate, Halley, was one of those girls. She always begged me to go to the dance hall with her, so I could be one, too, but I never went. A handful of us stayed in the dormitory and congratulated ourselves for not falling for some soldier’s ploy to deflower us. We all swore we’d never disgrace our families by marrying out of our social circle, or, an even worse fate, ending up pregnant and alone.

At the time, I thought I was afraid of what my father would say, what he might do if I became pregnant or married a lowly private. But now I know I was terrified of marrying a man I didn’t love. Of worrying myself sick over his safety and knowing I’d be expected to learn to love him if he came back.

“Vada, I don’t want you to give up anything for me. Especially your freedom. But you love me and I love you. Getting married would make us free to be together all the time.” I tilt my face up toward his, asking him to kiss me. Convince me. And for a moment, there is nothing but our lips touching, our breath. “We’ll settle the thing with Darby. Hell, I’ll buy you this dog, if you want, but I want to marry you the minute you say so.”

His face is so beautiful, his eyes so true. He cups my face in his hands and dabs at my tears with his thumbs, waiting for my answer. I’ve never known the kind of happiness I feel when I’m with Frank; it’s like being on the edge of forever with untried wings and all I have to do is keep my eyes on his and take the leap. He presses a kiss on my forehead, and I know I’m as precious to him as he is to me. I close my eyes and spread my wings.

“Yes.”

He smiles against my lips. “To me or the dog?”

“Yes, to everything.”

Vada has Frank on his knees, but she’s on her knees, too, pressed against him, her heart beating against his; with his. He kisses her, breathing her into his soul forever, and nothing exists except her.

“All right, that’s it.” The cop is back, glaring down at us. “Get your things and go or I’ll arrest you on the spot for indecent behavior.”

Vada ends the kiss and looks at Frank with a smile as glorious as the most beautiful summer day. “She said yes,” Frank says to the cop, his eyes still on Vada’s. She laughs and scoops up the pup. Their pup.

“I don’t much care what she said. You people need to move on.”

He stands there as they pack up. They glance at each other with matching grins that say they’re getting married. Someday. Maybe soon. She points to their pup, who looks like a picture, passed out on a little tuft of clover. Vada picks her up so carefully, she doesn’t wake, and cradles her like a newborn on her shoulder. She mouths, “Thank you” to the cop, who seems a little disappointed that Frank and Vada are so compliant.

In the car Vada ticks off her plan. They’ll go back to Wentworth’s to get their things together, Vada will give her the money, and they’ll leave. Frank hopes the harlot will be in such a good mood, she’ll sell him the dog for a song, but if she doesn’t, Frank will get Vada a puppy as soon as they get home. Maybe a Lab.

He doesn’t like Vada knuckling under to what is essentially blackmail, but he’s not saying a word. His girl has agreed to marry him and soon they’ll have a ready-made family with a little dog, until they have kids. They haven’t talked about this kind of thing, how many Vada will want, or when, but Frank would be happy with a dozen Vada Hadleys.

They pull up in front of the cathouse, and Frank shoves the car in park and kills the engine. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle Miss Wentworth.” Vada’s head snaps back, and she’s not laughing anymore. He’s not sure what her slight smile means. “Or you can.”

“Yes. I will.” Vada’s beaming again, but Frank doesn’t trust the harlot any further than he can spit a rat.

The front door is unlocked, and no one seems to be home. Frank throws the clothes he wore yesterday in his satchel and walks down the musty hallway to Vada’s room. The tiny dog is perched at the head of the bed, on a pillow, watching as Vada scurries about getting her things together. Frank doesn’t hear the harlot, but he can feel her standing behind him. He waits for Vada to see her, but she’s too busy trying to stuff that pouffy dress she wore yesterday into her suitcase.

“Going so soon?” The harlot breathes out the words.

“Oh.” Vada’s face is flushed. “Miss Wentworth. Yes, we were just packing. May I speak with you privately?” Vada looks at Frank, but he won’t budge. “Frank, would you please excuse us?”

Hell no. But Vada and the harlot are looking at him impatiently. He remembers Tiny’s warning not to screw things up, nods, and closes the door behind him.

I take the roll of money out of my handbag and hand it to the woman. “This is all the cash I have.”

Miss Wentworth rifles through the bills with blinding speed. “A little less than half is never enough.”

“I’m proposing a trade.”

“I can’t possibly imagine what you would have of value that I’d want.”

As the necklace pours out of the pouch, Miss Wentworth sucks in her breath. I splay it out across my fingers so she can see the impressive design. Twenty-seven perfect diamonds call to her like glistening sirens wrapped in gold, surrounded by sapphires. “It’s worth far more than the money Darby owes you.”

“And you would trade this?” She takes it from me, inspecting it closely.

“I’ll keep the cash. You keep the necklace, and Darby’s debt is paid. Forever.” I thought it would be hard giving up my grandmother’s necklace, but I feel relieved, happy that the last vestige of my old life will help Darby. “Under one condition.”

Miss Wentworth flings the necklace at me. “It’s obviously a fake. Otherwise, you would have sold it yourself and simply paid me the money that little tramp owes me.” She’s trying to sound terse, but I can hear the wanting in her voice.

I pick the necklace up off of the floor and place it around her neck. “I assure you, Miss Wentworth, it’s genuine.” She’s trying to pretend she’s indifferent, but her fingers trail adoringly over the stones. “When you first called me, you said you could find Darby. Promise me you’ll keep trying, and when you do, ask her to please call or write and let me know she’s okay.” She’s entranced by her image and says nothing. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” she whispers, drawing out the word. “I’ll find her, and soon.”

I thank her and give her a piece of paper with my address and phone number. “And, Miss Wentworth, please don’t say anything to Frank. I don’t want him to know about the necklace.”