Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again (15 page)

As for their pasts, they couldn’t be more opposite. Though Patsy’s family had been poor, they knew the importance of good morals and strong values. Her parents’ devotion to Christ and to each other had provided a firm foundation for her childhood. After her father died and her mother became ill, Patsy essentially gave up her social life to care for the woman who had raised her.

Pete, on the other hand, had grown up without the influence of religion or any other kind of virtuous principles. He’d been a heavy drinker. By his own admission he was a lousy husband to two wives. He’d even done jail time for driving while intoxicated. A stint in rehab and a few college business courses had set him on a better track. But only after moving to Lake of the Ozarks had he started attending church and holding down a regular job.

As some poor fellow on the screen got shot about eight times, Patsy decided Pete was totally wrong for her. They didn’t fit together well at all. There was no
us
.

Just when she had settled her mind on this subject and started to figure out who was trying to kill whom in the movie, Pete leaned close and kissed her gently on the cheek.

“You sure do smell good tonight, Patsy,” he murmured. “I’m glad you agreed to see a show with me.”

Every single building block of reason and good sense in Patsy’s mind tumbled down all at once. Thanking God that the theater was all but empty, she closed her eyes as he kissed her again. Why oh why did she feel this tangle of desire and yearning at the touch of his lips on her skin?

Patsy focused on forming a prayer for help. Surely the good Lord wouldn’t allow her to succumb to a man just for the pure pleasure of it. Hadn’t God helped her erect a strong barrier against that sort of thing? Her brain was nearly as full of Bible verses as Cody’s. She knew it would be unwise to get involved with a man who didn’t share her faith. Good relationships were founded on spiritual unity, friendship, mutual caring, and not … not…

Oh, that kiss sure was sweet. Now Pete’s lips pressed against hers, and Patsy turned and slipped her arms around him. He cuddled her close and kissed her again. And then again. She touched his hair, discovering it was soft on her fingertips. So unlike his chin as it grazed hers.

My goodness, it felt wonderful to have Pete surrounding her with his man-smell and his man-muscles and his man-skin. So much of Patsy’s life had been spent around women. But Pete was all male, and she didn’t know if she could ever get enough.

“I’d like to kiss you forever,” he whispered. “You’re as sweet as maple sugar, girl.”

“One more time,” she murmured back.

He was more than happy to oblige, and Patsy realized she felt the same way.
Forever
. She wanted to be in this man’s arms for the rest of her life. It had been too many years since anyone had brought her this much satisfaction and joy—and it had all happened in the length of time it took for a few car crashes and gun battles to kill off most of the characters in the movie.

No, that wasn’t quite right. This whirlwind of emotion had been building between them for a long time. Over the months, they had fought and argued and stopped speaking to each other. They had laughed, teased, and flirted. But they had kept a careful distance, making sure not to reveal too much or act too confident about their feelings. Until this night, in this theater, in the dark.

“I love you, Patsy,” Pete said against her ear. “I love you so much I don’t hardly believe it myself. I’ve been feeling it for a while now, but I didn’t trust it. With you here tonight, though, I don’t have any more doubts. I love you, and that’s all there is to it.”

It would have been enough if he had only spoken the first three words. But Pete’s confession of initial doubt and eventual certainty melted Patsy’s heart. Like a block of paraffin softening in the manicure section of her salon, her own qualms, hesitations, and fears warmed and dissolved. Pete Roberts loved her. Truly loved her. And she loved him, too.

Swallowing back unexpected tears, Patsy watched the movie screen as a group of panting, bloodied men with torn clothes and smoke-blackened faces hugged each other and then strolled off into a jungle sunset. The music swelled, the screen went black, and the list of directors, producers, actors, and crew began to roll.

What on earth had happened? Most important—what next? Patsy could barely stand as Pete pushed himself up from the theater seat and took her hand. Her pencil skirt had managed to walk its way at least six inches up from her knees, and she tugged on the hem to lower it. Clutching her purse to her chest like a barricade, she stepped out from the row of seats and accompanied Pete up the aisle and into the lobby.

“Hey, Patsy and Pete!”

Cody’s voice instantly brought Patsy to full alert, and she spotted the young man seated on a bench near the concession stand.

He stood and waved. “I didn’t know you were here,” he called. “I’m here too. How about that?”

“Were you in the theater just now?” Pete asked. “The one with the war movie?”

“No, we’re getting ready to go in. But not that one. We’re seeing a movie about chickens.”

Patsy scanned the posters lining the wall for something that resembled Cody’s description. “Who did you come with?” she asked.

Just then, Jennifer Hansen walked out of the ladies’ room. Patsy could have dropped over dead. The young blonde, dressed in khaki slacks and a pale blue sweater, smiled when she saw them. Clearly trying to banish a coy grin, she joined the group.

“Hey,” she said. “You two been having fun?”

Pete shrugged. “We saw that war movie. Pretty intense.”

“Lots of shooting,” Patsy added.

The whole time they spoke, Patsy was looking back and forth between the two young people. Was it possible? Had Cody asked Jennifer out on a real date? Had she agreed to go with him? What could this mean?

“Cody said you’re seeing a movie about chickens,” Patsy said. “Is it a cartoon?”

Jennifer glanced at Cody. Then she laughed and elbowed him. “Oh, it’s a chick flick! That’s what he means.”

“Chickens,” Cody repeated. He leaned over as if to confide in Patsy. “This movie is for girls, but I’m going to watch it anyway.”

Patsy chuckled. He certainly looked handsome in a jacket, slacks, and a clean white shirt. His curly hair was the perfect length. Maybe Jennifer Hansen—with her generous, Christlike heart—was willing to overlook some of Cody’s more unusual attributes in favor of sharing a friendship with the young man. Cody was not only good-looking, but like Jennifer, he was gentle, kind, and always sincere. Patsy hoped Jennifer knew what she was doing.

“Oh, there they are!” Jennifer sang out. “Jessica and her fiancé came up for the weekend. We decided at the last minute to throw a group together and see this show. Look, Cody, there are the other kids from church. Everyone’s got snacks now.” She smiled again at the older couple. “Sorry, but we’ve gotta run. Come on, Cody.” Jennifer took his hand and hurried them off.

As they neared the others, Cody turned and called over his shoulder, “Patsy, you and Pete need to wash your faces. You have got lipstick everywhere.”

With a gasp, Patsy turned to the man beside her. Pete Roberts’ mouth and cheeks were smeared with Razzmatazz Raspberry lip gloss.

Pete studied her for a moment in silence. Then he shook his head and guffawed. “Heavens to betsy, girl,” he chortled as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

“I guess we do,” she told him. Hurrying toward the restroom, she added to herself,
We fit together pretty well, Pete Roberts.

CHAPTER NINE

Esther assessed herself in the salon mirror. Patsy was busy sorting out curls with a pick, and she didn’t seem to notice as her client’s head tilted one way and then another.
Definitely old
, Esther decided. There could be no other way to describe herself. The face staring back at her was old. Crow’s feet fanned out from her eyes, and empty silk purses sat beneath them. Age had carved a set of parentheses around her mouth and a matched pair of exclamation points between her eyebrows.

But worst of all was her neck. Esther shook her head in dismay. What on earth could have caused all that skin to loosen up and let go of its hold on her chin? It reminded her of an old velvet theater curtain, swagged and draped from ceiling to floor.

“What’s the matter?” Patsy asked. “You’re frowning. Am I doing something wrong this afternoon?”

“It’s not you,” Esther assured her. “It’s me. Do you want to hear the strangest thing? I can’t remember ever being a woman. You know what I mean? A full-fledged woman—like my mother.”

“You’re a woman right now, Esther. And a lovely one, at that.”

“I’m an old lady. That’s what I am. Here’s the trouble, Patsy. I can remember
wanting
to become a woman. But I never felt like I actually got there. In my mind, I’ve always been a young girl—dancing through life like a will-o’-the-wisp. When my hair started to turn white, I kept it colored. When my bones ached, I pretended not to notice. But all of a sudden there’s no getting around it. I’m old. Just like that, I went from young to old. Somehow I completely skipped womanhood.”

“I’ve been doing your hair a long time, honey, and I don’t think of you as young or old or anything else. To me, you’re just Esther. Pretty, sweet, kind, and generous Esther Moore. I don’t believe age matters a whit. It’s a person’s character that counts.”

“How old
are
you, Patsy? I’ve often wondered.”

“Better watch out,” the stylist clucked. “You’re starting to sound like Cody. We might have to work on your social skills.”

Esther laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I do worry about you, though, sweetheart. You’ve been running this salon for years, but what have you ever done for yourself? You never take a vacation. You don’t have a husband or children. You’re too busy to take up a hobby or even volunteer for anything.”

“Now hold on there. I’m a member of the Tea Lovers’ Club, don’t forget. And I’ve done my fair share of helping out with the neighborhood get-togethers. Not to mention providing plenty of entertainment at the last Fourth of July picnic.”

Esther was pleased to see that Patsy had arrived at a point of finding humor in her Independence Day pratfall. Esther’s flying car incident had been the talk of Deepwater Cove more recently, and she had decided to make light of it. In life, she had learned, it was best not to dwell too much on past events. Things happened—right or wrong, good or bad, funny or sad—and a smart woman moved forward.

“I hear a new manicure place moved in beside the tattoo parlor,” Esther said. “I know that must be bringing you some competition. Have you ever thought of selling your business and starting off on a new path?”

Patsy raised the hair spray but didn’t push the button. “Sell my salon?” she asked. “Sell Just As I Am? Why would I do that?”

“As I said, there’s the new manicure business, and I hear Brenda Hansen has considered putting a decor shop into that last empty spot past the Pop-In.”

“She sure is. It’s going to be called Bless Your Hearth, and I can’t wait for it to open up. Steve is building dividers out of shelving and lattice, and Cody’s already painting the walls. Brenda plans to use blocks of color to break the shop into separate areas for bedding, living room items, bath goods, and kitchenware.”

“All that color in one room?”

“It’ll blend, Esther. Taupe, deep chocolate, and robin’s egg blue. Don’t those sound yummy together? Brenda’s going to stock all kinds of local items, too—Ashley’s beads, Color of Mercy’s CDs, walnut bowls, you name it. I’m half afraid her store will make my salon look downright dowdy.”

“Which is exactly what I was talking about a minute ago. Patsy, aren’t you a little tired of running your salon day after day? I thought that after all these years, maybe you’d be leaning in another direction.”

“What other direction?”

Patsy began to spray. To Esther, she seemed a little more animated than usual, filling the air around her client’s head with a cloud of vapor. Patsy was nervous, but who wouldn’t be at such a precipitous time in life?

Esther coughed and waved her hand in front of her eyes before she could reply. “Cody told me that he saw you and Pete Roberts at the movies last weekend. He mentioned that Pete was wearing … well, Cody said he was wearing lipstick. And with that information, I assumed that the two of you might be enjoying one another’s company a little more than you let on.”

Setting the spray can on the desk at her station, Patsy placed one hand on her hip. “Esther Moore, are you trying to sniggle information out of me?”

“I don’t know that I’d put it quite that way.”

“Well, I’m not a bit worried about Brenda’s shop. And for your information, the new manicure place is no competition for Just As I Am either. It’s not even much of a business. I went over there to check it out. The tattoo shop hired a woman who paints fingernails black, blue, green, or purple. She pierces anything you want a hole stuck through, and they gave her husband a job because he specializes in motorcycle tattoos. If you want to look young again, Esther, why don’t you go and get yourself some sparkly green nail polish and an eyebrow ring?”

Almost the moment the words were out of her mouth, Patsy swung around and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Esther, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That was mean, just plain mean.”

Esther swiveled the chair toward her friend, then reached up and took Patsy’s hand. “It’s my fault for prying. I would never want you to sell Just As I Am, honeybunch. What would I do without my regular set-and-style? As for you and Pete … all I meant is that I would love to see you happily hitched. There’s nothing sweeter than a loving marriage, but it’s none of my business what you young people do these days. I’m old and nosy, and I’m a great big gossip, too. I know it as well as I know the nose on my own face. Please forgive me for butting into your privacy.”

When Patsy turned around, Esther was surprised to see that big tears hung at the ends of her friend’s long black eyelashes.

“Gracious,” Esther murmured, standing to give Patsy a hug. “I had no idea my words would be taken so much to heart. Why don’t you spray me a little while longer, and we’ll change the subject? That way we won’t say good-bye on a sour note.”