Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (23 page)

“See,” Peter whispered. “I was right. Doing this is saving your reputation and your paper.”

“That word drives me nuts,” she seethed.

“Which word?”

“
Proper
.”

Peter laughed.

They sat at the head of it all, he with a contented smile, her looking as if crabs would run ashore and devour her at any moment.

“Relax,” he whispered, leaning over again. “I know it kills you to take this time from work, but Grace has everything under control with this evening’s print.”

“I wish she could have come,” Muzzy said.
In my place,
she added mentally. Grace had been disappointed the reception was held where it was since her wheelchair made it impossible to attend. But she perked up quick enough seeing she was needed to take the helm with the paper. For her, a dream come true.

“We’ll bring her a plate.” Peter scooted his chair closer and draped an arm over her shoulder. Muzzy shot him a critical look. “Would you stop looking at me like I’m some creepy old man? I’m your husband now.”

With that ‘
don’t remind me’
look, she turned her head, wishing there was alcohol. “I can’t believe how many people came,” she said. “Imagine if we’d run an announcement.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Peter said. There was one person he hoped hadn’t heard and if he had, hoped he at least knew he wouldn’t be welcome.

Ruth surprised them from behind, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Congratulations,” she said.

“Thank you, ah…”

“Ruth Drayton.”

“Right. Ruth. You’re friends with Claire and Ava and the bunch.”

“Yes. I’ve heard so much about you. I understand you run the town’s little paper?”

Muzzy felt a flicker of offense at
little
but hid it well. She did feel the need to correct her.

“I
own
the paper. And I run it,” she said proudly. She didn’t notice how her lopsided smile made Peter grin stupidly with love.

“Well done,” Ruth said with a gleam in her eye. “We need more smart, independent women like you. I’ll have to pay you a visit and hear how you got started in such a courageous venture.”

“If you can get her to sit still long enough to tell the story,” Peter chimed in. “I barely got a proposal in between everything she runs around doing.” His eyes danced, knowing she wouldn’t tell the truth of how he simply stated that they
would
get married, rather than actually
asking
.

Muzzy pulled her eyes from Peter, effectively biting her tongue. “Have you just moved to town, Ruth?”

“I have. I thought I’d only summer here, but I’ve come to love it. And I didn’t like the idea or raising my son in the city.”

“Oh, is your husband here as well?”

“No, he’s not alive,” Ruth said without emotion.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Muzzy had an idea and wheels began turning quickly. While she didn’t want to become a gossip rag, Ruth was polite society, and it wouldn’t hurt to introduce her to the town. And who knew, she might even find love again.

“Ruth, how would you like to be interviewed for the paper? I could run an article titled meet Rockport’s newest resident. It would be in a new social column I’m experimenting with.”

Ruth folded her arms and smiled. “I’d like that very much. I’ve been hoping to make new friends here and feel a part of the community.”

“Wonderful.” She pulled a paper and pencil from her back pocket, her eyes floating over it. “How’s next Wednesday at two?”

“Perfect.”

“Is it all right if I bring my camera? We could take some pictures of you in your home?”

“I’d love that,” Ruth said as Muzzy scribbled her name and address down.

“Oh, I almost forgot—a gift for you both.” Ruth pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to Muzzy.

“Oh, Ruth, you didn’t have to.” After all, they’d only heard of each other. A gift was never expected.

“I know. Enjoy the party. I look forward to meeting with you next week.” She started to walk away and then turned and complimented Muzzy on her slacks.

Muzzy beamed. “I think the two of us could start a fashion revolution,” she said.

Peter just grunted. She found him staring at her.

“What?”

“You’re
working
at our wedding reception. Can’t you take one evening off? We’re supposed to be having a good time, celebrating our love.” He brooded, but Muzzy could tell he wasn’t truly angry.

“Our love?” She reached over and put her hand on his. “Peter, I kind of like you. That’s all you’re going to get from me today.”

A smile snapped into place. “That’s more than I had this morning.” He winked. “I’ll get it out of you. Mark my words.”

Once the sun had set, the bonfire was lit and the music turned up. Muzzy glanced at her watch too often for Peter’s liking and refused every offer to dance.

Aryl had stayed conveniently just out of reach, always needing to go talk to this person or that when he and Claire were alone. Watching couples take to romantic dances on the beach, Claire gave up, plopped down in the sand, and watched them.

There was less distance between Jonathan and Ava, but to close friends, it could still be seen. It went without saying that Arianna’s presence was missed, as well as Caleb. It was a good time. But not a great one.

With old and young, the party seemed to grow after nightfall, the bonfire attracting strangers like moths.

Ava sat down in the sand beside Claire.

“I think we did well. All the food is gone and half these people don’t even know Muzzy, but it’s a lively party. Ruth’s having a wonderful time. And it’s been a relief not to have to chase after the children.”

“It has,” Claire said.

“What’s wrong then?” Ava asked nudging her. “Things not settled with Aryl yet?”

“No. Are things back to normal with you and Jon?”

Ava sighed, slumping to her side. “No.”

Claire folded her arms over her knees and rested her chin. She of all people could see the romantic possibilities this evening. With the crescent moon above, the crashing waves in the distance, the music, the fire burning… it was all so perfect. The fact that Aryl was ignoring the setting instead of using it to help patch things up aggravated her to no end. The only ones who were making use of the evening were Maura and Ian, dancing in the sand under the moonlight, gazing into each other’s eyes as if there wasn’t another soul for miles.

“Shouldn’t we be out there talking to people?” Peter asked.

“No, I’m quite fine here.”

He considered telling her that mingling with new faces might bring new subscriptions. She’d most likely capitalize on that and finish the evening gathering names and addresses, leaving him at the table alone.

“I feel like snobby royalty. You know at the royal weddings where the king and queen just sit there watching people all night. That’s essentially what we’re doing.”

“It’ll be over soon,” she said as her eyes floated around.

“It’s our reception. Maybe we should enjoy it.”

“I am enjoying it,” she lied. It drove her crazy to sit still and do nothing and he knew it. Frustrated, he went back to watching everyone else have a grand time.

After a moment, just her eyes flickered over to watch the shadows dance on his face. He was still, in her mind, anatomical perfection. That hadn’t changed. It wasn’t easy to put up a hard front, to pretend that his attention didn’t rattle her to her core. It was easier, safer, to keep him at a distance. She’d never tell him, but she refused to dance with him because she didn’t think her knees would hold up. And if he kissed her again, well, she’d likely fall flat on her face and embarrass herself. While discreetly admiring him, she didn’t notice how her head traveled and before she knew it, he turned and she was caught in a moment of awe.

“There’s that look again,” he whispered, fighting a grin. “I knew it.”

Panicked, she threw back her chair. Peter was quick to follow.

“Muzzy.”

She walked fast and her thighs burned as she churned through the sand.

“No, wait. Talk to me.” He caught up and tugged at her blouse.

Muzzy yanked away and headed farther down the beach where it was darker. Where he couldn’t see her face burning red.

“Leave me alone.”

He took her arm to slow her down. She didn’t yank away this time but shoved him instead. He tumbled back and his backside planted in the sand.

She pounded a few more paces then turned around.

“This can’t be real, Peter. It just can’t!”

“But it is,” he said, getting up slowly.

She held her hands up. “Don’t come near me.”

“Muzzy, I’ll never forget how you looked the first time you saw me. You did it again tonight. I know what you feel deep down. Why you won’t admit it baffles me. But I will. I’ll scream it up and down the beach. I love you. You want me to? I’ll do it right now.”

“No.” She retreated a few paces and her face was barely visible. From what he could make out in the dark, it looked like she might cry.

“This isn’t real,” she said again, barely above a whisper.

“Why is it so impossible to believe that I actually care about you?”

“Because women like me don’t get…”

“Don’t get what?” he asked, moving closer.

“Don’t get men like you,” she blurted out quickly. “No decent looking man has ever paid me any attention. Because I’m not like all the other women. I’m odd.”

“You’re not odd. You’re unique. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

She shook her head, refusing to believe.

“Have you ever stopped to look around? You’d probably be surprised to see men do look your way. I’ve noticed, and frankly, it bothers the hell out of me.”

She looked more in control of herself, but still far from believing him.

“If I let this be real, then when you go, it’s going to hurt twice as bad.”

“I swear to you, I’m not leaving.” 

Her eyes didn’t adore now— they were defiant. “I don’t believe you. There are a hundred women in town who are more fashionable, more fun than I am. It’s only a matter of time before one of them catches your eye. If I let you in my heart, then I give you the power to break it.”

He could tell her all night long that that would never happen. It was all talk; she wouldn’t believe it. Not yet. Only time would show her he was with her for the long haul.

“You asked for some time to get used to this, and I told you I’d give that to you. I’ll give you anything you ask for. Unless you ask me to go away. Because I can’t do that.”

She lowered her eyes now that he was only inches away, battling her urge to run. With a finger, he lifted her chin.

“And you’ve got it all wrong, Muzzy Brown. Men like
me
usually aren’t lucky enough to get women like
you
.”

He kissed her, and had her heart not been thrumming in her ears, she’d have heard the cheers and hoots ring out from behind. 

***

Mona was a pretty woman but had the hard look of the working class. She had dark brown curls pinned back on the sides and green eyes that looked much older than the rest of her features. As a fellow waitress, and Arianna’s supervisor, she’d taken her under her wing and tried to be her friend.

“Dare I say, you’re doing quite well? I wasn’t sure how you’d work out, but I’m glad we hired you.”

Arianna turned the sign on the door to closed, drew the last of the curtains, and sat down across from Mona with a grunt.

“My feet are killing me.” Then her head snapped up. “Why weren’t you sure I’d work out?” she asked.

Mona shrugged. “You had no experience waiting tables. And you look uppity.”

“No experience? Ha! Waiting hand and foot on a family is experience enough. Lord knows these customers are just as picky and twice as whiny.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by uppity?”

Mona laughed. “You look like the kind to be waited on, not the kind doing the serving, that’s all.”

“Humph.”

Arianna rubbed the back of her neck, stretching it. It wasn’t the first time someone had insinuated she had the air of royalty. Hearing it now made her laugh. There was nothing royal about her reality—sleeping on a friend’s sofa, trying not to eat too much so she wasn’t a burden, and whiling away the evenings waiting on rude and impatient customers while waiting for a letter from her husband. It wasn’t a life she was proud of.

“Stay right here. I’ll go get something to help with your neck,” Mona said and pushed herself out of the chair.

The street outside was busy this Friday night, but inside, the restaurant was quiet. In the low lighting, it didn’t look half bad. Of course, Arianna had a dozen ideas to pretty the place up. She envisioned different curtains, candles on each table, and a printed menu with a fancier font. She wondered if the owner would be open to hearing her suggestions, and if there was any chance he’d let her work on the place.