An Accidental Kiss (Dearly Beloved) (5 page)
The phone rang as he was grabbing a beer from the fridge, and he was tempted to ignore it. The last thing he wanted was to hear his sister’s sad voice, asking him how he was doing and ladling out unwanted advice. And then he thought of the kindness she’d shown him during her stay, the meals she’d cooked and the way she’d tried to cheer him up. Resigned, he picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
There was a long silence, punctuated by a sob.
Frank frowned. “Hello?”
“Frank?” Justine whispered.
“Justine?” he said incredulously, and then felt a prickling of unease. Something had to be wrong, for her to be calling this late. “What is it?”
“It’s Mom. I—I don’t know where she is, but she’s been gone for over an hour and it’s pouring with rain!”
“Gone?”
“Yes, but her car’s still in the garage. I don’t know what to do.”
A chill went through him. Marcy, his lovely, level-headed Marcy, did not take solitary midnight walks in the rain.
“Listen—” he began.
“This is your fault. What happened between you guys?” Justine interrupted tearfully. “Mom has been so miserable since you left her.”
“I didn’t—”
“And you’ve already found someone else, which is just despicable if you want my opinion.”
“There’s no one else.”
“We saw you with that bimbo on TV.”
“That was my sister. Look, Justine, I want you to call your grandparents.”
“Okay,” her voice quieted. “That was really your sister?”
“Yes.”
Frank paced the kitchen after hanging up, not sure what to do. Should he call back in a few minutes and check to make sure Justine had called Kath and Herman? The thought of Marcy roaming the streets in the dead of night made his blood run cold. Of course, she might not want him calling her house. She’d been so angry the night she’d discovered he’d built this place without telling her and finally she’d answered one of the several messages he’d left on her phone. “Please don’t call again,” she’d said, her voice calm and controlled. “I realize now that everything between us happened far too quickly, and I think it best if we don’t see each other again.”
He’d accepted her words, but now he wondered if fear had driven Marcy’s behavior. So many times she’d seemed on the verge of telling him she loved him, but she’d held back. Frank knew she’d wanted to hear it from him first, but stupidly he’d held back, too, unable to fully believe what his heart was telling him.
Now he thought of Marcy watching the television and seeing him with Lillian. His baby sister was forty-three and, he supposed, attractive, with her glossy black hair and radiant smile. She’d looked pretty at the premiere in a sparkling silver evening dress she’d bought specially for the occasion. And Marcy had seen him with Lillian, and figured he’d replaced her.
“Little fool,” he muttered.
Doc got to his feet and woofed loudly.
“I totally agree,” Frank said, grabbing up his car keys. “Let’s go.”
****
It was after one in the morning by the time Marcy turned into her street. She had no idea how long she’d been walking. The rain had finally stopped and she realized she was drenched. Her hair clung to her head in freezing, dripping tendrils and her jacket was soaked through.
Enough, she thought. She couldn’t go on like this. She had to find the strength to move on with her life. Bleakly, she trudged on, then blinked in surprise as her house came into view. It was all lit up, even though she’d left Justine tucked safely in bed, the house in darkness. She hastened her steps.
“Oh, thank God!” Kath said, as Marcy walked in the front door. “We were just about to call the police.”
Marcy gaped at her parents. “What are you doing here?”
“Justine called us,” her dad said reproachfully. “She was worried sick, poor kid.”
“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Justine said, seated at the kitchen table in her Little Kitty nightgown and matching robe.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Marcy said. “I—I just needed a little air.”
“At this hour?’ Kath snorted. “In the pouring rain? Justine told us—”
“Okay, I saw Frank on the TV with his new girlfriend and I got a little upset,” Marcy admitted. “Stupid of me, really.”
Herb shook his head in disgust. “That man needs horsewhipping.”
Justine opened her mouth as if about to speak, then seemed to change her mind.
“It’s not his fault,” Marcy said. “It was silly of me to hope that, at my age—I mean, that I could—” She broke off, realizing the wetness on her face wasn’t rain, it was more tears.
Silence fell over the kitchen, and then Kath took charge. “Herman, make some more cocoa, would you? Come on, Marcy, upstairs and out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold.”
Her mom bundled her up the stairs, clucking like a hen, and when Marcy emerged from a hot shower ten minutes later, a warm nightgown and fluffy slippers were waiting for her. Kath knocked on the bedroom door, then entered with a mug of steaming cocoa.
“Into bed with you,” she ordered.
“I’m not an invalid,” Marcy said, doing as she was told.
“I know how a broken heart feels,” her mother said. “Now get some sleep.”
Marcy sipped the cocoa, ashamed she’d caused such a panic tonight. She was lucky, she realized. She had so much love in her life from her parents and Justine. There were many different varieties of love beyond the kind she’d felt for Frank, the kind that had made her feel she was dancing through life. She drained the mug of cocoa and wiped tears from her face. One day at a time, she thought, nestling beneath the quilt. Somehow, she’d forget everything she’d shared with Frank—the magic and the laughter and that first, accidental kiss—and then she’d be fine.
It was late morning when she woke. Marcy blinked at the alarm clock and felt a moment of panic before she remembered she had a day off work.
Sighing as she recalled last night, she rolled onto her back and yawned. A soft noise answered her and she frowned, lifting her head from the pillow. A large dog lay at the side of the bed.
“Doc?” Marcy whispered. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He woofed again, a little louder, then stood up to lick her face. She laughed, then immediately sobered and lay down again.
What is going on? Am I dreaming?
She lifted her head for another peek. Seeing her, Doc’s tail thumped the carpet. As if in slow motion, Marcy climbed out of bed, put on her slippers and went downstairs, with Doc eagerly leading the way. Frank was standing in her kitchen, frying bacon.
Marcy froze.
He looked up, saw her, and went still, before quickly taking the skillet off the stove and turning off the heat. “Good morning, Marcy,” he said, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“I heard about last night,” he said.
“Oh, no.”
“Marcy—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“We need to talk,” he said, and took a seat at the kitchen table, indicating that she should do the same. She did. Frank looked at her for what seemed like a very long time, his expression serious. Marcy wished she’d at least brushed her hair and washed her face before coming downstairs, and that she wasn’t wearing her oldest and most comfy nightgown. She wasn’t sure she could bear to listen to whatever he had to say. It was nice that he’d cared enough to drive over, but really, this would only serve to make things more difficult.
“I don’t see what more there could be for us to discuss,” she said.
“Well, I—”
“I mean, it was good of you to come here,” she plunged on, “but not necessary. I’m absolutely fine. And I know you are, too.”
That was when Frank reached across the table and pulled her unceremoniously out of her chair and onto his lap. “Will you be quiet a moment?”
Speechless, she nodded, stunned at being so near to him, almost overcome by the desire to lean against his shoulder.
Frank placed his hands on her waist and looked into her eyes. “I fell in love once, a long time ago. It was supposed to last forever. When Katie died I never thought I’d find anyone else and I didn’t really want to. You weren’t a part of my plans, Marcy.”
She held his gaze.
“Then you came along, and everything changed,” he went on. “I’ve been scared of letting you into my life in case I lost you.”
She relaxed against him, closing her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been awful.”
“For me too,” he said. “The woman at the premiere was my sister, Lillian. You’ll meet her at the wedding.”
“What wedding?” Marcy asked.
“Ours, of course.”
She gaped at him. “You haven’t even asked me!”
“You’ll say yes. You’ve been crazy about me since our first date, when you lunged at me for a kiss.”
“I did not—that was an accident!” Marcy twisted around and looked at him. He laughed, blue eyes warm with love. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, thinking she could quite happily spend the rest of her life on his lap.
“So will you marry me?’
She nodded.
They kissed then, a soft and sweet kiss that went on and on. And this time, there was nothing accidental about it.
****
January
Marcy gazed from her kitchen window at snow-frosted mountains. It was exactly a year to the day since her first date with Frank, which was why she’d dressed today in the same black, scoop-necked dress she’d worn to the Jade Wok that chilly evening, so full of hope and fear.
However, Frank hadn’t seemed to notice her outfit this morning as he’d started his day. Probably because he was starting a new novel, Marcy thought, smiling ruefully. His head was in the clouds.
When he’d asked her to marry him, she’d suggested a spring wedding. Frank thought that was too far off, and so they’d married just weeks later in the living room of the house they’d made into a home, watched by a few friends, her parents, and Frank’s sister.
And Marcy was glad now they’d had a Christmas wedding. Nothing could have been more romantic and meaningful. They’d said their vows at dusk, with the room lit by a blazing fire and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.
Sometimes she had trouble believing the happiness that had found her. Justine had started school in town and the transition had gone much easier than she’d expected.
Frank spent his mornings writing after they walked Doc together in the woods around the house, and Marcy was in the process of starting her own business. She’d be running her own bookshop in town and was busy most days overseeing the renovation of the old building she planned to sell books from and house a small cafe in.
She peered from the window again. It was starting to snow.
Justine strolled into the kitchen. “Where’s Frank?”
“He said he was going into town,” Marcy said. “I’m not sure whether or not to start supper.”
“Hmm...he’s been an awfully long time,” Justine said, smirking as if she knew something her mother didn’t.
“Is something going on?”
“What do you mean, Mom?” Justine looked at her wide-eyed.
Frank’s car appeared. He parked and climbed out, carefully carrying a plastic carrier bag emblazoned with the name of the Chinese restaurant in town.
Justine giggled.
****
Marcy and the young girl he’d come to think of as his daughter were watching him from the kitchen window.
Frank grinned and waved as he walked to the house. Today had been so hard. He’d had to pretend to be so preoccupied with his writing he didn’t notice the significance of his wife’s little black dress. Like that was even possible.
He’d never forget that night, his first glimpse of Marcy, her hesitant smile, the way she’d kissed him and turned his life in a whole new direction.
But pretend he’d had to, because Justine had made him promise that tonight would be a surprise. That was what his life had become—a place of sweet surprises and laughter and time with his family.
Marcy lifted a hand and waved back, her face lit with happiness, and all at once he remembered their wedding day, just a month before.
In a silky, cream-colored dress, with her curls scooped high on her head, Marcy had looked at him as if every dream she’d ever had was coming true.
A hush fell as Frank gazed at the woman who had fixed his broken heart and breathed life into his weary soul.
Then the judge spoke, her voice quiet and reverent. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman...” and Marcy had blinked back the tears sparkling in her eyes as their lives together began.
Doc barked as Frank walked into the kitchen and winked at Justine. The house filled with the smells of sweet and sour chicken and special fried rice.
“Oh, Frank, I thought you’d forgotten!” Marcy said, looking as if she might cry.
“Not in a million years,” he said, taking her in his arms.
“Okay, guys, the food’s getting cold,” Justine said, plunking plates down on the table.
Marcy was a little breathless when Frank finally stopped kissing her. “Let’s always have Chinese food on this day,” she said softly.
“Always,” Frank nodded. “I like the sound of that.”
A word about the author...
Dawn Douglas has been writing since she was old enough to hold a pencil. Now thoroughly grown-up, she uses a computer and writes romance in Colorado, where she lives with her three children, 2 dogs, and a cat.
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