Mother of the Bride (47 page)

“That's enough, boys.” Gus stepped between them and flung up his hands. “If you two can't get along, you can leave.”

“Good idea.” Herb turned toward Georgette. “Get your things, Georgie-girl. We're spending the night in Branson.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Herbert. I'm staying right here.”

“Me, too.” Fletch dropped into a chair, crossed his arms and stuck his chin out at Herb. “But if you'd like to go, don't let us stop you.”

“Fat chance I'd leave you alone with my fiancee, Parrish.”

“She's my wife, Herb.”

“Both of you stop it!” Georgette shot off the bench and spread her hands on the piano. “I am the mother of your children, Fletch,
not
your wife. You have one around here somewhere, if you can find her. I suggest you look in the hot tub. And how
dare
you, Herbert, imply that I can't be trusted with my ex-husband. I've never been so insulted.”

“I didn't mean it that way, Georgie-girl. You know I—”

“And stop calling me Georgie-girl,” Georgette snapped. “I hate it.”

“Boy, so do I.” Fletch made a face. “Yech.”

“Stay out of this!” Georgette and Herb shouted at Fletch, then Herb swung toward him. “My fiancee is not spending another night under the same roof with you, Parrish.”

“Your fiancee is spending the night wherever she damn pleases, Herbert,” Georgette seethed. “Both of you stop pulling at me!”

“Great job, Herb. Now you've upset George.”

“If you'd stayed in France where you belong—”

“Knock it off!”
Gus thundered. Cydney jumped. Georgette blinked and Herb took a step back from the blistering scowl on Gus' face. “Okay, boys. I'm the warden, so here's the deal. No more fights or threatening to belt each other.
Next one who starts it gets tossed out on his ass. You two are not going to ruin Aldo and Bebe's wedding. If I see you within ten feet of each other tomorrow before Bebe walks down the aisle at four o'clock, I'll have Sheriff Cantwell lock you in the garage. Got it?”

“Got it,” Fletch grumbled.

“Got it,” Herb growled.

“Good. Anything you want to say, Georgette?”

“Yes, Angus. Thank you.” She gave Fletch and Herb a scathing glare, her eyes glittering. “I've never been so mortified in my life. Don't either one of you dare speak to me. Not a single word.”

“Okay, fellas. Thems the rules. Now let's find Bebe so you can shake hands and tell her you've settled your differences. Then I want you to go to your rooms and stay there until morning.”

Gus thumbed toward the doors. Fletch slapped his hands on his knees and got up. Herb and Gus followed him down the aisle. Once they were gone, Georgette sat down on the piano bench and looked at Cydney.

“You were right about your father.” She sighed. “And about Herb.”

“Herb?” Cydney blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“That was not a demonstration of undying love for me. That was a pissing contest,” Georgette said bluntly. “A chest-beating show about male ego and ownership. If either one of those randy old goats truly loved me, they wouldn't have behaved that way.”

“Maybe they both love you, Mother.” Cydney hurried up on the dais, slid onto the piano bench and put an arm around her. “Maybe that's why they behaved that way.”

“That's sweet of you to say, darling. Utter bullshit, but sweet nonetheless.” Her mother smiled, but it was a weak effort. “I should practice some more. Will you turn the music for me?”

Georgette was still playing “The Wedding March” and Cydney was still turning the sheet music when Gus came into
the great room with Gwen. They sat on the dais steps and waited till Georgette finished.

“Well, Warden Munroe?” She turned toward him on the bench.

“They were pretty convincing. I think Bebe bought it.”

“I think so, too. Aldo believed Dad and Herb, so that helped.” Gwen sighed. “Bebe's still awfully upset about the clergyman, though. What are we going to do about that?”

“I'll get on the phone and make some calls,” Gus said.

“Thank you, Angus. I'll take Bebe a cup of tea and apologize.”

“For what, Mother?” Gwen asked. “You didn't do anything.”

“Yes I did.” Georgette rose from the piano. “I let your charming old reprobate father turn my head. But never again.”

Tears gleamed in her eyes as she walked toward the pocket doors. Gus sat on the steps with his elbows on his knees, a sympathetic smile curving his mouth as he watched Georgette walk down the aisle.

Cydney's heart broke for her mother. If you really loved someone you said so and did something about it. You didn't argue and fight. You didn't drop a rock on his foot and slam a door on his nose, either. And you didn't joke about who was going to dump whom and when.

“Crap.” Gwen sighed. “We're still from a broken home.”

“You'll like Herb,” Cydney said. “He's a nice man.”

“He's a colorless twerp.”

“He treats Mother like a queen. He gives her anything she wants.”

“Well no wonder she fell for Dad's malarkey. She's bored silly.”

“She is not bored, Gwen. She's very happy with Herb.”

“Oh please. Half the time Mother forgets Herb is in the room.”

“Only when Dad's around.”

“I just said that. Do you need a tree to fall on you, Cyd?”

She'd already had a tree fall on her—well, on her Jeep,
anyway—and still she'd let herself fall hopelessly in love with Gus.

“What we need to do is the dishes,” Gus said. “And go to bed.”

His eyes lit on Cydney, dark and smoldering. Her pulse jumped and her heart raced. She'd die if he came to her room and spouted some stupid drivel about chapter six. Right after she killed him.

“You need to get on the phone and find a minister.” Gwen turned on the dais step and pointed at him. “Cyd and I will do the dishes.”

Gus headed for the telephone in his office; Cydney and Gwen, for the kitchen. Gwen had just finished wiping off the countertops, and Cydney cranking on the dishwasher, when Gus pushed through the swinging door. She took one look at his face and said, “Uh-oh.”

“Pastor Phipps and Reverend Marshall have gone hunting,” Gus said. “Together. Cloris' brother is a Baptist minister in Springfield, but he has a wedding tomorrow at four o'clock. I think Elvin's our best bet.”

“Swell,” Cydney said unhappily. “Who's gonna tell Bebe?”

“Let's wait till morning,” Gwen said. “Maybe she'll calm down.”

“Morning it is. G'night, ladies.” Gus slid Cydney a wink Gwen didn't see and pushed through the swinging door.

“I'm beat.” Gwen yawned as she and Cydney climbed the back stairs. “If you get the urge to talk to me at 2
A.M.
stuff a pillow over your head and smother yourself, will you?”

It was only 9:30 when Cydney shut her bedroom door. Two and a half hours till midnight. Oh God. What was she going to do?

If you really love someone,
her little voice reminded her,
you say so and you do something about it.

“Like what?” Cydney asked herself in the bathroom mirror. “Just blurt out, ‘I love you, Gus. I want to marry you’?”

That's what an Uzi would do, but Cydney's peashooter heart quailed. What if she asked him and he said no?

But what if he says yes?
her little voice countered.

“Then
you
ask him,” Cydney snapped, and turned on the shower.

Her shoulders felt like iron, she was so tense. She stood under the hot spray until ten o'clock to loosen them, then dried off and put on her green-striped pajamas. At 10:30, she gave herself a facial. At 11:00, she did her nails. At 11:30 she had a panic attack.

On the stroke of midnight, Gus knocked softly on her door.

He smiled when Cydney opened it, his hair shower-damp, his jaw fresh-shaved and shiny. He wore gray sweatpants and one of his white pocket T-shirts. Under his left arm, he carried a rolled-up sleeping bag.

“Are we camping out?”

“Yep. Right here.” He unrolled the navy blue sleeping bag on the floor of the alcove and unzipped it. “Your old man's a night owl. If he sticks one toe out of his room, the warden's gonna be here to nail him.”

Cydney grinned. “I'll bring the pillows.”

She grabbed two from her bed, tossed them on the sleeping bag and crawled into it with Gus. He zipped it around them, grunting and tugging at the teeth that kept snagging in the down-filled poplin.

“Need some help?” Cydney asked, sitting up.

“Nope.” He yanked the zipper shut. “Got it.”

They lay down side by side and snuggled together, Gus' cold, bare toes rubbing her warm feet, the hair on his ankles raising gooseflesh on her smooth calves. He slid his arm underneath her and turned his head toward her on the pillow. The hallway wall sconces he'd left on glowed in his eyes. Not quite like stars in a night sky, but close enough.

Cydney tipped her head up and kissed his chin, still slick and cool from his razor. “You have the best darned ideas.”

Gus smiled and turned on his side, rolled her toward him and curved his arm around her shoulders. “Do I?”

“Oh yes.” Cydney cuddled her cheek into the curve of his neck, drew a breath and inhaled soap and shaving cream.

“Glad you think so. I've got another one I'd like to discuss with you.” He put a kiss on the top of her head, his voice a
deep thrum in her ears. “I think it's the best darned idea I've ever had. Want to hear it?”

Cydney's heart clenched. “It isn't about chapter six, is it?” “No.” Gus propped himself up on his left arm. “This is about us.”

“Us?” The heat in his eyes made her quiver. “You and me?” “I planned to keep quiet till after the wedding, but—” “Wait.” Cydney pressed her fingers to his mouth. Her heart jumped into her throat, but it was now or never. Time to take her place in the Hall of Big Guns or forever remain a peashooter. “I have something I need to say to you.”

“Okay.” Gus slid down on his elbow, his head in his hand. “What?”

“I—” Cydney's voice squeaked. She snapped her mouth shut and bumped her forehead against his chin. She felt his heart beat, slow and steady, and so close to hers, she wanted to stay here forever. “I love you. I've loved you for ten years, since I read your first book. I don't want to dump you. I want to marry you and stay here at Tall Pines.”

Cydney shut her eyes and held her breath, waiting for Gus to laugh or jump out of the sleeping bag and run screaming down the hall.

“Can I ask you something?” he said slowly. “Is that why you had pictures of me pinned up in the room above your garage?”

“Yes,” Cydney confessed. “I fell asleep every night dreaming about you. I've got a catalog of Angus Munroe fantasies that would fill the Library of Congress.”

“Really?” He was laughing at her—or trying not to. Cydney could hear it in his voice. “Did we ever make love in a sleeping bag?”

“No. I'm not much for the great outdoors.” “How 'bout a sleeping bag in front of a roaring fire?” “No,” Cydney said, wishing he'd laugh and be done with it. “A sleeping bag in a hallway?” “No. This is my first time in a sleeping bag.” “Then I guess I never proposed to you in one. In your dreams, I mean.”

“No,” Cydney said miserably. Just laugh and get it over with, will you? she wanted to say. Let me crawl back into my room and smother myself. “You never proposed to me in my dreams in a sleeping bag.”

“Good. I want to be original.” He slid a finger under her chin and tipped her head up. “Look at me, Cydney.”

She cracked one eye. Gus wasn't laughing, he was smiling. Her pulse leaped and her heart pounded.

“Just so happens I love you, too,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

chapter

thirty

“You love me?” I'm asleep, Cydney thought. Asleep and dreaming. Or I've died and gone to heaven.
“Really?”

“I love you.” Gus' smile widened and his eyes softened. “Really.”

“And I'm not dreaming? You
did
ask me to marry you?”

“Since you asked me to marry you, it only seemed fair.”

“Gus. Oh Gus.” Cydney clutched his shoulders, felt warm skin and firm muscle under his T-shirt. She was awake. Gus was real and he loved her. He wanted to marry her. “What about my loony family?”

“To have you, I'll take them. Your mother doesn't scare me anymore. I must be getting used to her. Your old man can be a pompous pain in the ass sometimes, but so can I, so I figure you can put up with that. Your sister.” He raised his right hand and tipped it from side to side. “As for Bebe. Well.” He shrugged and smiled. “I'm trying, okay?”

“We've only known each other two weeks,” Cydney worried out loud. “Are you
sure
you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Positive.” Gus grinned. “I've had more fun since I met you than I've had in all my thirty-five years. I'm counting on you to make the rest of our lives every bit as much fun.”

“Boy, I don't know, bub. That's a pretty stiff order.”

He grinned wider, caught her left hand and drew it inside the sleeping bag. “Speaking of stiff.”

“Down, Clyde,” she said sternly.

Gus threw his head back and laughed. Cydney covered his mouth and said, “Shhh!” He nipped her fingers and wrapped
her in his arms. Cydney burrowed her cheek against his chest, smiled and felt tears in her eyes. He loved her. He wanted to marry her. Cydney the Nobody.