The Wedding Shop (31 page)

Had he not proposed to her? She was
his
girl. But Cora couldn't keep her eyes from the intimate exchange in front of her. Birch and Janice.

Setting Janice on her feet, Birch bent toward her, his lips touching hers, kissing her as if he'd done it a thousand times, wrapping her tight against him as her arms looped around his neck.

No, no . . . What was going on? Panic, fear consumed Cora. The scene before her obliterated every hopeful emotion. In an instant she was back in Rufus's kitchen, staring at his wife, her pregnant belly, and their little boy, hearing him deny his claims of love.

What was it he called her? An imbecile. Plain and unimaginative.

At the water bucket, Birch slapped Orie on the back, laughing, then incidentally glanced her way. When their eyes locked, his brightness went behind a cloud.

“Cora!” He made his way to her. “I didn't know you were coming.”

She shook her head, unable to speak, tears starting to blind her view. Fool me once, fool me twice . . . How could she fall for the wrong man again?

Birch caught her up in a big hug. “You're here and I'm glad.”

She pushed out of his arms and narrowed her gaze, quivering as she tipped her head toward Janice
. Come on, Gunga Din. Rise up.
“What's going on?”

Birch lowered his head, running his hand over the back of his neck, kicking the tall grass with his shoe. “We've been seeing each other, Cora.”

“ ‘Seeing each other.' W-what does that mean? You proposed marriage to me.” Her words boomeranged between her ribs, cutting, hurting.

“You never gave me an answer. I waited eight months for you
to say yes. Even after your mama found out I proposed and encouraged you to accept me, you never did.”

“I was trying to be sure.”

“No, Cora, you were trying to find a way out.”

“I don't want a way out. I want to marry you.”

“I finally took your silence as a no, Cora.” Birch peeked over his shoulder to where Janice laughed and talked with the others. Though she kept a constant eye on Birch.

“So you just took up with Janice Pettrey?”

“We started talking at her brother's birthday party. One you were invited to, I believe. We've always had a good rapport and that night hit it off. Been getting closer since Labor Day.”

Birch stood adjacent to Cora, putting their bodies at odd, cold postures. She'd hoped to run into his arms with her answer. Instead she ran straight into a slammed door.

“You told me to let you know when I was ready. Well, I'm ready.”

“That was way back in the spring. I gave you a month, then five more. On Labor Day you still weren't ready. You never made one step my way. Not one, Cora. How was I to know you'd come traipsing in here Thanksgiving Day jealous of Janice? Did you come to tell me something? 'Cause I've not heard hide nor hair out of you. So I moved on. I'd have waited another year for you if you'd have made one step,
one
step my way, Cora. But you didn't.”

“With Janice?” She gestured toward the young teacher, the cool whip of the November breeze in her hair. “You moved on with a girl ten years your junior? Well, w-why didn't you tell me?”

“Don't be putting this on me, Cora. I put my heart on the line for you and all I got was ‘Go with me to see Rufus,' and ‘Mama's hurting.' I understood. I did. Still do. But I finally realized that's your life, not mine. I can't stop living because you can't make up your mind. By the way, did you know she's telling folks your father died?”

“Yes. She wanted to save the shame of divorce. Birch—” Cora pressed her fingers to her forehead, the tension between her eyes starting to twist. “I realize I made you wait and I'm sorry. But I also know I'm ready. I'll marry you. I'm here to say yes. Yes. Birch, yes!” She smiled, stepping toward him. “I'll marry you.”

He exhaled a rare rude word, shaking his head, gazing off into the distance. “But it's too late, Cora. I can't marry you.”

“W-what do you mean? I-I don't understand.” She'd leapt and there was no net.
Dear Lord . . .

“I'm with Janice.” He refused to look at Cora. “We have a lot of laughs. Get along well. She's ready to get married and have a family.”

“So am I.” She pressed her hand to his side. “Birch, I'm here.”
Accept me.

“Do you love me, Cora? Because Janice does. She's eager. She wants to be a farmer's wife and raise a bunch of babies. Do you want any of those things?”

She couldn't answer. Just stood there trembling like a fading fall leaf.

“Cora? Do you?”

“Yes, and I'm willing—”

“Willing?” Birch shook his head, peering at the gang by the water bucket. “At one time I thought that'd be enough. If you were
willing
to love me. But not now. Not since I met Janice.” He shifted a step away from her. “I free you from my proposal, Cora. I withdraw my sentiments.”

“No, no, Birch, I don't want to be free.”

“But you don't love me, do you?”

Say it. Say you love him.
Cora inhaled, long and deep, batting down a wave of tears, staring overhead, wishing the stupid sun would do its job and burn away the gray clouds.

“As I thought. Look, I was coming to see you next week, but I might as well tell you now.” Birch shifted another step away. “I'm
proposing to Janice and I wanted you to know. It don't seem like I should tell you first, but given our situation and all, it's only right.”

Cora shook, careening toward a dark edge while standing stock-still, staring at the horizon. “Do you love her?”

“We get on well. She's energetic and pretty, handy with cooking and cleaning, sewing and like I said, ready for a family.”

“You didn't answer me.” Cora moved toward him. “Do you love her?”

“Cora—” His expression sobered as he stared at her. “Janice and I talked already. We want to get married soon as we can in the new year. It's my slow time around the farm, so we'll have time to get to know one another.”

“So it's all settled then.” She drew a response from somewhere in her being. “I wish you all the best.”

She'd waited for Rufus while Birch had waited for her, and now she was without either. Seemed love didn't find its way easily to her. But she couldn't blame Birch. He had waited. This was all her doing.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it.”

She peered at him. “I wanted to love you.”

“Did you?” He brushed a gleam of perspiration from his brow. “After Labor Day I realized you weren't ever going to say yes. All you ever wanted from me was more time. Janice told me she loved me after our first date. She was so infectious she was hard to resist. She felt about me the way I think you felt about Rufus. I didn't realize how thirsty I'd become waiting for you. Love's a powerful force, Cora. A strong, strong pull. It's darn intoxicating when someone loves you.”

She stared at her hands as she twisted them together, a tear splashing down on her thumb. “Then you love her back with all you have, Birch Good.”

“You were going to marry me even though you didn't love me?”

She raised her chin. “Aren't you the one who just said when someone loves you, it's a powerful force?”
Say it. Say you love him.

“But just not strong enough for you and me, Cora. My love never turned your head. Janice's love has turned mine.”

“Are you happy?”

He nodded. “I believe so.”

“Would you have been happy with me if I'd said yes in March?”

“Why ask the question when the answer don't matter?”

She pressed her hand against his arm. “I'm sorry, Birch. The best of everything to you and Janice.”

“Thank you.” His hand slipped under hers as she pulled away. “And, uh, Cora, she's right excited about coming to the shop. Show her kindness, if not for my sake, for hers. Her folks don't have much money. Lost it all when the banks closed. She's been giving them her teacher salary to make ends meet. But I'd like her to have her wedding happiness, her day at the shop.”

“Of course. She'll be most welcome.”

Cora made her way toward the dinner tables, her heart tumbling between confusion and tears, as the sun cracked through the cirrus clouds, dropping gold light on the Thanksgiving feast, on Cora, and another year of her life.

C
OLE

February 22

H
e walked into Linus's office without knocking, telling his protesting admin he'd only need a minute.

Ever since his date with Haley, she lived in his thoughts. He'd loved discovering who she was all on his own. Loved seeing her weak, vulnerable side. Loved that she was so passionate about the old wedding shop.

His heart quickened at the idea of pursuing her. But he had to take it slow. Or she'd spook and he might not get another chance.

“Linus, where're our permits?” Cole leaned over Linus's desk, causing the man to rock back in his chair.

“Linus, I tried to stop him.”

He raised his hand for peace. “It's okay, Sandy. Why don't you bring us some coffee?”

“None for me, thanks.” Cole straightened up, giving Sandy a conciliatory smile.

“So, Cole, what seems to be the trouble?” Linus stood, trying to meet him eye to eye. But he was too small.

“I want the permits to do the work on the wedding shop.”

Linus made a face. “You know I don't have anything to do with permitting. That's Alastair's department. Go down the hall. Last door on the right. Think a man in your business would know that, Cole.”

Cole chuckled, shaking his head. The man was good, no doubt. “He checks with you on everything. You're his boss. He's your lackey.”

“I don't like what you're implying, Cole.”

“I don't like that the city council gave Haley the building, imposed a deadline for the renovation, then held up all the permits. Know anything about that, oh friend of Brant Jackson?”

“You best not come in here accusing me of anything underhanded.”

Cole sighed. “Linus, just give us the permits. She filed the first of January. We're into the third week of February. That's unheard of in this town. Even with your brand of red tape.”

“What can I say? We're a growing town.” He was a snake. A smiling rat-snake. No offense to the official rat-snake. Or snakes or rats.

“I'm not leaving here without those permits. So let's just get down to it. What do you want?”

Linus sat, facing his computer, his balding head glinting in the sterile overhead light. How did he get into power in the first place?

“You know what I want,” he said.

“Excuse me? How would I know what you want?”

Linus looked up at him for a long, pointed moment. “Think about it. You
know
what I want.”

“No, I don't . . .” Cole stepped back with a force of realization. “You want the . . . No, Linus. No. What kind of crazy, nut job . . . How can you do this to Haley? She's not tied to me, or the Stratocaster. Really, this is how you run your office?”

“The Stratocaster sure would be a nice piece to add to my music collection.”

Cole headed for the door. “You're not getting that guitar.” Then back to Linus's desk with a pointed, “That's extortion.”

Linus rocked back in his chair, poking out his lower lip, begging for a good punch. “Oh, I think it's more like motivation, don't you?”

“I should go to the DA's office.”

“And report what? We argued over permits? Over which I have no control?”

Cole laughed. This was unreal. “Linus, do you even have the kind of money it takes to buy that guitar?”

Linus stood. “I could cut you a check for fifty grand this afternoon.”

“Fifty grand? Oh no, that's way too low. Sixty. No, seventy grand.” Cole paced, patting his middle. “I feel an increase coming on.”

Linus bolted around his desk, hand extended. “Deal. Seventy thousand.”

Cole stepped back, hand in the air. “Never said I was really offering.”

“Cole, I'm saying ‘deal.' You bring that guitar.” He moved back to his desk, yanked open the middle drawer, and took out a folder. He flashed it open, revealing the wedding shop's permits. “And these are yours.”

“You lying son of a—”

“Don't go unchristian on me, now. You had to figure sometimes this is the way business got done around here. After all, your daddy gave eight years of his life for getting caught.”

“Yet here you are stupid enough to still do it.”

“I ain't undercutting suppliers and greasing palms. I've never taken a dime from Brant Jackson. There's no law in holding up building permits. No law against striking a bargain with a guy about a guitar.”

“Except when you hold up permits to get the guitar.” Cole paced the office, hands on his belt. “I can't believe you. I always had my suspicions.”

“I don't care what you believe, Cole. I saw my chance to gain a little leverage on something I wanted, so I took it.”

“This is Haley's shop, not mine, you imbecile. Why are you punishing her because of me?”

“Like I said, I saw some leverage.” Linus perched on the edge of his desk. “Seems to me she must be pretty special for you to be even considering selling me that guitar.”

“I'm
not
considering selling you that guitar.”

“Have a nice day.” Linus stuffed the permits back in his desk drawer and slammed it shut.

“You won't get away with this.” Cole stormed out. “How do you work with him, Sandy?”

“He pays me well.”

“He's a criminal.”

“He's not so bad. Just a tad shady.”

Outside, the sunshine felt miles away from his cold soul and that heated exchange with Linus. Yeah, sure, Heart's Bend had a bit of the you-scratch-my-back-I'll-scratch-yours politics, but Linus was wanting a scratch from the wrong guy.

He slammed the door to his truck as he slipped inside, fired up the engine. For all he knew, that rat-snake could be holding up Cole's bids for city work.

Circling the town center, he whipped in at Ella's, his chest taut with turmoil. Mom came out of the kitchen as Cole schlepped over to his well-worn stool. She set a cup in front of him and filled it with coffee.

“What's bugging you?”

Cole reached for the cream and dumped in a couple of mini-cups. “This stupid town.”

“This stupid town took good care of us when your daddy left. So be kind. What's going on?”

“Linus.”

“Oh?” Mom propped her elbow on the counter, leaning toward Cole.

“He's holding up the permits on the wedding shop because he wants the Stratocaster.”

She stood back and shrugged. “So?” Then waved toward the door. “Mert, how are you?”

“So? You're saying I should sell it?”

“What are you going to do with it? Leave it hanging on the wall, in a glass case? You don't play it. Why not make it work for you?”

“Dad and I bought the guitar together.
We
played it.”

Mom sighed and angled toward him, propping her elbows on the counter. “And holding on to it isn't going to bring back the man you want him to be. He's not the father you knew or wanted or still want. But he's willing to be a father as things are now.”

Cole raised his coffee mug. “You have customers.”

“I'm right and you know it.”

“Mert's waving you over.”

“Jasmine can get her.” Mom gently lowered his hand, peering into his eyes with her mom radar. “That guitar is not a relationship with your dad. You want a relationship with him, then drive to Nashville once a month for a bite of pie or something. Why are you holding on to that guitar? I think it'd be freeing to let it go. And that last shred of bitterness you have with it.” Mom moved around the counter. “Sell it. Help out Haley, who, by the way, I like
very
much.”

“I should report Linus to the DA's office.”

“You could, but it's your word against his. You'll lose more time in the court process. Haley needs that shop open by June sometime or she loses it. The town loses it and we get an ugly parking lot.”

Cole bore a hard gaze into his mother, sipping his coffee. She was right about that but not about the guitar. Was she? Did he really want the guitar? Or just the idea of the guitar?

He'd not played it in years. In an instant, he traveled through his memories, through the happy days with Dad, then through the dark. Seeing Dad arrested at the city pool, watching him walk away with an FBI escort, then sinking beneath the water. The nights he
sat on his bed in the dark, playing the Fender, turning up the amp as loud as he could to dull his pain.

But the guitar was more of a wedge between them than a tether. It was his old Gibson he played to connect to God, to truth and light.

Last, he pictured Dad at Java Jane's, asking him to sell the guitar to help him out. Cole sighed. Man, Haley and this wedding shop business were invading places he'd not explored in a long time.

Glancing across the diner, he nodded to his mom and reached for his cell phone. Dialing Linus, he said seven words. “Seventy thousand. Take it or leave it.”

“Deal.”

“And, Linus, you pull this crap again, I'm going to the authorities. I mean it.” He dropped a couple of dollars on the counter for his coffee and headed out the door, pausing by his mom, leaning toward her ear.

“What's his number? Dad's.”

She glanced up, smiling, taking her phone from her pocket. “This is good, Cole. Really good.”

“We'll see.” He searched her contacts for Wilson Danner. Then drawing a deep breath, he dialed his dad.

H
ALEY

She'd gone to city hall every day looking for her permits. The staff knew her by name. Yesterday they offered her a slice of pie Harriet brought in for Bill's birthday.

But construction permits? No, those were never ready.

Today hope buoyed in her spirit. Two more wedding shop alums popped into the shop this week, depositing memories and cash in Haley's hand.

Mrs. Reinhold and Mrs. Patterson. Both gave sizable contributions. She was almost up to fifty thousand. Miraculously. God's generosity humbled her healing heart.

Inside city hall, she passed through security, whispering a “Please, Lord” on her way to the Department of Codes & Building Safety office.

When she pressed through the door, the clerk, Darlene, jumped up, smiling, waving a folder. “Look what I have for you, Haley.”

C
ORA

December 4, 1932

“I declare, I was so taken by surprise when he proposed I about fell over.” Feminine giggles filled the shop as Cora came in through the back door, a box of pastries in hand.

“You are simply glowing.” Mama's voice came from the grand salon buoyant and lively. “We will do everything we can to make your day as beautiful as you are. Now, have a seat on the sofa and Cora will be right with you. Can I get y'all some hot tea? A little snack to nibble on? Can you believe Christmas is right around the corner?”

The voices chorused, “Yes, oh yes.”

Mama's heels clicked on the hardwood as she made her way through the shop. Cora leaned against the pantry shelves. Janice Pettrey. It had to be. Who else could it be?