A Captivating Conundrum (17 page)

I tried to turn, but Matt waited a bit before letting go, keeping his gaze on me until Christie practically ripped my arm out of the socket in order to make me move. "I'm
serious
, Beth. He's cheating!" 

I sighed and turned away from the handsome man, giving my complete attention to the friend who, once again, had decided to give her heart to an utter moron.

~ His ~

You know that feeling you get when someone pulls something from your grasp that you
have
to have? It's probably what a baby feels like when you take their favorite blanket away, or when someone rips the 'the brass ring' from your hand in order to give it to the guy next to you who really doesn't deserve it.

That's what I felt like when Beth was pressed into me. My arms were around her and I suddenly had to let go for some young girl. I know, I sound like a five-year-old on the playground kicking sand in someone's face, but it really wasn't fair.

Beth's beautiful head of hair disappeared into the crowd at the bar, and I wandered over to the table with Chris and Bobby. Along the way I was asked for some autographs and did the meet-and-greet thing but thankfully, they weren't overbearing—which probably stemmed from the fact that they weren't star struck; some pretty big names were in the area on a daily basis.

Sitting down, I looked back at the bar, spying Beth with Christie in the corner. She had her hand on the girl's back as the dirty-blonde head leaned forward, crying so hard that I thought she might faint from sudden dehydration. Beth was whispering to her, and I could almost imagine the kind words that were coming through those sweet lips as she tried to console her friend…

~ Hers ~

"Christie, the guy is a dick! Why do you just keep going from one to the next? You know they'll hurt you, so why can't you just wait for a good one to come along?"

She raised her head and I reached for a napkin, trying to wipe the tears and runny nose. "Oh, come on, Beth. You and I both know we live in the middle of freaking nowhere. There are no nice ones here, and I'm not like you—I can't be a spinster this young." 

I felt the kick in the gut even though she was completely right. But I didn't want to live alone; I wanted the touch of a man I loved and who loved me but…well, it just never happened. Unfortunately, they always opened their mouths and shot out some stupid line to make any attraction I originally felt fold like an umbrella in a hurricane. Except…

I shot a glance at Bobby's table, watching Matt as he wore that fake smile and signed a piece of paper for Marla. Marla was on it, as always. She was the resident Mrs. Robinson—older, wiser, clothed in a pencil skirt, and carrying a cigarette holder to make herself look more endearing to the younger man. I almost laughed out loud when I saw Matt's face change from the practiced celebrity stance to a boy who looked more than slightly worried that he was about to get attacked by this very determined woman. 

"
So
?"

My focus snapped back to Christie. "So what?"

Her frustration was rising with her tears. "What do I
do
? How do I get him back if he's cheating on me?"

"If he's cheating on you why the hell would you want him back?"

She pounded her fist on the table. "Ohhh, you don't understand!" 

~ His ~

Wow.
I watched the older woman saunter away; her hips swayed back and forth like a pendulum as she sent me a 'cougar-like' smile over her shoulder.

Looking down at the paper with her phone number scrawled across it, I felt ill. No, not because she was at least three decades older than I was, but because she seemed to be carving a new notch in her bedpost even though I'd explicitly declined her very generous offer.

Glancing into the corner, I saw the blonde girl rise from her chair, kiss Beth on the cheek and head to the dance floor. She immediately began dancing with some guy, and I wondered if this was the man who had just stomped on her heart.

Beth just sat there on her stool, rolling her eyes and downing a beer. I went to join her, and just as I was about to sit down, an elderly man with a cowboy hat appeared and pulled her into his arms. "There's my Bethie!"

The smile that lit her face was one that should be framed and hung in a gallery, it was that lovely.

"Jerry! How
are
you?"

The cheerful man who resembled John Wayne more than a little, took a seat beside her, as she saw me turn to go back to the table.

"No, Wait! Matt, come here."

My heart jumped a bit, as she grabbed my hand and drew me to the other stool. 

"Jerry, Matt. Matt, Jerry."

Jerry stuck out his hand and tipped his white Stetson. "How are you, son?"

As I stared into a face that'd really lived, I recognized him from the photograph in Beth's library. His voice was low and deep, with a gravelly tone that spoke of time, happiness and some whiskey mixed in for good measure. I felt as if Jerry was the owner of a life story that should be put to music immediately. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."

He waved his hand in front of his face, as if erasing the silly words. "Just Jerry." The old man shot me a sideways glance. "You being good to this gal?"

Beth smiled wide. "Jerry, Matt is not a boyfriend he's a friend."

"Another Bobby, huh?"

I chimed in. "No, not a Bobby, a friend."

"Uh, huh."

"Jerry, stop. Matt is a very nice man who's going to perform
Father
on Broadway for me." 

Jerry sat back on his stool; his cobalt blue eyes looked like they belonged in the face of a man half his age, what with the sparkle that was coming from them. "That right? You're an actor?"

I nodded. "Try to be, Sir…Jerry."

The deep laugh came from the gut. "Ahh, Missy loved actors." He turned to Beth. "Remember?"

Beth nodded. "She sure did, but Newman was the fav, I believe."

He sighed. "Oh, yeah. When that guy moved into town, I knew I was in for a fight to keep that gal of mine."

Beth patted his hand. "I think Newman had a gal, too."

Jerry winked. "Not as lovely as mine."

"Did he come in here a lot?" I asked, absolutely intrigued by the man before me.

Jerry shook his head. "Not often. Just when he raced his car up at the track. Nice enough, fella. So…you act. Must live in New Yawk?"

I grinned at the accent. "For a while. I actually live out in California most of the time now."

"Oh." Jerry's eyes rolled. "All that sunshine is bad for you."

Beth squeezed the weathered hand. "Sunshine is good for you, Jerry. Lots of Vitamin D." 

"I see the TV. All those women showing off everything God gave them in those disgusting bathing suits. No ladies out there," he said, sniffing the air.

Beth slapped his shoulder. "Jerry that was
Baywatch
. I'm sure there are very nice and very classy ladies out in California."

Jerry reached out and touched her cheek. "We claim the classiest." 

I couldn't disagree.

"So, boy. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be over on that Broadway?"

I cleared my throat, wishing I could tell him the real reason I couldn't leave his town. "I needed the author's help to make sure my performance is good enough. I want to deliver." 

"Oh, man, I forgot!" Beth jumped up from her stool and touched me on the shoulder. "I totally drank your beer. Be right back."

Watching her head to the bar, I moved my gaze back to Jerry as fast as possible, staring into the 'knowing' face. Any man will tell you what this looks like. It's the look one guy gives another—no matter what the age—that says,
Don't bother lying because I can see right through you
.

Jerry waited for me to speak.

I took a deep breath. "I'm doing the play and I met Amber, so I
do
want to do a good job. Beth has trusted me with a truly fantastic script and I want to make her proud."

He waited; those blue eyes seemed to turn into silver steel and never wavered from my face.

"And…I wanted to get to know Beth better. I think she's…remarkable."

He nodded slowly. "How long you been here?"

I looked down at the table; I actually couldn't believe the answer. "I met Beth yesterday morning in New York."

The laugh that came from Jerry's throat was the laugh of a man who had seen the bad in life, so when he was happy he made sure that everyone knew it. He grabbed my shoulder. "Yeah, that's about what it would take with Beth."

I laughed with him.

"It only took me an hour."

"I'm sorry?"

Jerry smiled; his eyes grew distant. "One hour before I fell for the love of my life." 

I grinned. "And where is she tonight? I would love to meet her."

His smile immediately vanished and I suddenly felt like crawling under the table. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

The twinkle returned to his eyes. "So am I. But…Missy and I had fifty-six years together, so we had a good, long run. And I'll see her again. Soon, hopefully."

"Where did you two meet?" I had to ask. As a romantic at heart, I love a love story.

"She was a nurse in WWII, I was a soldier. I know, sounds like a romance novel, but Missy was the one who took care of me after the Japs took their shot."

"You were…were you at Pearl Harbor, Sir?

His mind seemed to go back in time to an image I would assume one never forgets. "Believe it or not, part of the
Independenc
e
. I wasn't aboard that day; I was off-base. Ran, I did, when I heard those planes. Shrapnel, hospital, dead brothers, the whole nine yards…but we don't need to talk about that."

I nodded.

I watched as his gaze returned to the present. "Missy was the girl. After I came back from the fighting she was still there, and she was from this very small town you're now sitting in. I wanted to go back home to Texas, but we never got there. She was an East Coast gal and she wanted to stay one—so we came back and here we sat.  Workin, growin old…only thing we never got to have were those kids she wanted."

I hung my head. I felt bad that these two wonderful people couldn't expand their family. In my mind, this type of love story should end with fourteen grandkids and sitting on the porch playing with all of them, looking back on a life that would go on for generations.

"Missy was the best. I was the luckiest man in the world, you know that?"

He went on and on about her. Her eyes, her laugh, the way she would take care of him…I was truly talking to a man who had that 'thing'- that unbelievable commitment that all of us guys joke about but would kill for at the same time.

I glanced over at Beth who'd once again been sidetracked. I felt a twinge of jealousy erupt in my stomach. 

Jerry touched my arm. "Don't you worry none about that. That there is Mark, and if I'm not mistakin he hurt our Christie earlier today. If I know Beth," he laughed, "right now she's telling him
exactly
what she thinks."