Unexpected Wedding (14 page)

“That’s good,” he agreed. “Tackle one thing at a time.”

“I’ll call as soon as I can catch someone in the office. I’ll tell them I’m not coming back.”

He nodded. “And you can let me know if you want me to tell anyone where you are or pick up your mail or anything you left there.”

“Unfortunately for you, they’ve all seen that newspaper, so it’s not like you can act like you don’t know me.”

“I won’t say anything, Gia, unless you want me to.”

She leaned forward. “I’m sorry I brought you in to all this.”

“I’m not. Glad to be here for you.”

“That’s sweet, but... Anyway... Where’s that box?”

“I’ll get it. What are you up to?”

Tears glittered in her eyes. “I can’t stay here, Rocky. It feels inappropriate and it’s disrupted your life.”

He knew that was coming since she’d mentioned the box. He’d tried to block it out of his mind. If she wanted to go, he couldn’t stop her. “Nothing’s disrupted. You should stay here where you’re safe until you figure out what to do.”

“I can’t. You say nothing’s disrupted, but I know you were up cleaning your kitchen in the middle of the night. I can’t be responsible for that.”

“It needed to be done anyway.” He fought to keep desperation from his voice. “You should at least stay ‘til morning. Get a good night’s sleep before you head out. You’ll have the place to yourself. I’ll be at church.”

“I’m sorry, Rocky. I should never have come here. I need to fix this myself.”

He clenched his jaw so tight his neck hurt. Had she forgotten there could be letters from a rapist sitting at camp? What about her doctor appointments later in the week? Had they not had this whole conversation about her impulsive nature and how that didn’t work for her? He rubbed his temples. Screaming all these questions inside his head was creating a throbbing pain behind his left eyeball.

He met her determined gaze. Nothing he could say would change her mind. If he could let it rest in God’s hands, it would be easier to accept that. “OK. Let me know when you’re ready to get your car. I’ll get your box.”

“I’ll get it,” she offered. “Is it in the garage?”

“No. It’s in my car. I’ll get it. Stay out of the garage.”

****

Gia placed some of her belongings in the sturdy box and piled the rest of her things near the bedroom door. The zipper on her camp duffle bag separated as she attempted to slip one last pair of shorts inside.

“Figures,” she said as she rearranged clothes and collected the panties that popped out of the top. “We had a good run, I guess.”

She smoothed the multicolored quilt and sat on the edge of the bed to retrieve her flip-flops from under the deep blue dust ruffle. She was glad she’d agreed to stay until morning. Though uplifting in an awkward and relieving kind of way, her phone calls to Rebekah, Ash, and the camp directors had been more taxing than she ever imagined. They were appropriately appalled, concerned, and supportive, and then Ash startled her with the sad reality of how many confused and injured girls he encountered on first responder calls. Date rape was apparently alive and well and rampant at college campuses and high school parties.

She stepped into her shoes and swiped her keys off the dresser. The more she stashed in her car tonight, the faster she could leave in the morning. Rocky had worked on her computer, left her alone all afternoon, and long ago headed for Bible study. She knew God was with her and leaving was the right thing to do. Why did it feel so horribly wrong?

She lifted the box. And where was that astounding sense of peace she had earlier in the week?

She pushed through his front door. Rocky’s across-the-street neighbor huffed and puffed his way back and forth on his lawn with an extra-loud mower. He glanced her way and waved. She steadied the load and waved back. Then she nearly collided with Rocky as she turned the corner to the driveway.

He was speeding toward the street with paper towels in his lap. The garage door was closing behind him. She may have been about to be mowed down, but that didn’t stop her from stealing a glance at the mysterious space he’d forbidden her to enter. She couldn’t see a thing.

The box wobbled and flopped out of her hands. Rocky made a sharp but seemingly effortless swerve to the side. He whirled around and stopped at about the same time she began seriously re-thinking her decision to stack her teal, pink, and yellow panties at the top of the open box. They floated down and littered the ground between them.

She glanced at the neighbor. He was laughing as he mowed.

“I thought you were at church!”

“I was. I thought you weren’t leaving until morning.”

“I’m not.” She dropped to the ground and shoved things back into the box. “I was putting this in the car. And what are you doing to my car, anyway? Why is the hood up?”

“I’m checking the fluids. If it’s anything like your computer, I’m not a moment too soon.”

“You’re so funny. For your information, I had the oil checked in May. It’s fine. How did you get in it? It’s locked.”

“It’s open,” he said. “I opened the door and popped the hood.”

“It’s parked on the street,” she argued. “I would have locked it.”

“Fine. You locked it. Yet, I opened the door and pulled the hood release. Whatever. Call me Houdini.”

“Oh, I’ve got somethin’ to call you...”

“Save it for later. Right now I need to check the other fluids so you don’t get stranded somewhere in these skyrocketing temperatures on your quest to not stay here where it’s safe. What if it overheats?”

“It’s not going to overheat.” She stood with the box. “But help yourself. I’ll start the engine so you can check the transmission fluid. Yeah,” she said with a smirk. “I know stuff. Car stuff. I know the engine has to be on to get a correct reading of transmission fluid.”

“Give me a minute to check everything else first. Being a mechanic and all, you’ll understand it’s best to check the other levels while it’s cool. I don’t need a steam burn from the radiator.”

His elderly neighbor to the left crept toward them with a garden hose. She inclined her ear as if to eavesdrop on their spirited discussion as she pretended to water a near-dead asparagus fern.

“Hello, Rocky,” she called across the yard.

He turned toward the voice. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Konchesky,” he said like warm butter. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain. Everything all right?”

“Fine, ma’am. Was your grandson able to stop that leak in your kitchen faucet?”

“Not yet.”

“Max and I will come look at it as soon as we can.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Konchesky. You should get back inside. The mosquitos could carry you away tonight.”

Mrs. Konchesky chirped what should have been a cute old-lady giggle—if she wasn’t so diabolical. It was more like an evil laugh to Gia’s ears. When Rocky looked away, the woman gave Gia the stink-eye.

“Did you see that? That old biddy gave me a dirty look.”

“Hey, watch it. She makes the best oatmeal raisin cookies in the world, and I’m her favorite on this street. I get them once a week. Don’t mess that up for me.”

“So how long have you and the old neighbor lady been an item? And don’t tell me you’re not, because that lady is pretty uncomfortable with you having another woman on your premises. I’ll bet she’s seen what’s in your garage.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m putting this box in the car. How’d you get out of church so early?”

“It’s not that early. Isn’t it around eight?” He parked his chair near the car and started working. “Pastor Charles doesn’t keep us too late in the summer. There’s talk of suspending Wednesday night Bible study for the month of July. People are travelling and all that. The church will still be open for prayer, but nothing formal.”

“Everyone needs a break,” she agreed and noticed how he grabbed the side of the car and pulled himself up and forward to reach everything. “Can I help you?”

“No. Some cars are harder than others, but I think I can get to everything. This won’t take long. I was serious about the mosquitoes. They’re bad. You should go in. But leave your keys.”

“I’m OK. Have you eaten?”

“No. If you’re hungry, I can go get us something.”

“No, Rocky. No more take-out. That stuff is horrible for you. Don’t you ever cook?”

“Yes, sometimes, but it’s not much fun for one. Doesn’t seem to be much of a point.”

She leaned against the car. “Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this because it goes against every Italian blood cell in my body, but I saw you had a jar of spaghetti sauce in there and some pasta. I’ll go put on some water and cut up some vegetables or something.”

“Sounds good,” he said and swiped the dipstick clean. “You still leaving in the morning?”

“It’s for the best, Rocky. My presence here has your girlfriend Mrs. Konchesky all peeved. Can’t have that,” she said and started toward the door. “Cannot have that.”

“I know what we should do,” he said casually. “I know what would help this situation.”

She turned as he wiped off his hands. “What’s that?”

“We should get married. It works on every level.”

She laughed. “Oh, Rocky, what would Mrs. Konchesky do?”

He didn’t crack a smile. “I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it and praying about it for hours.”

“You’re not serious, you’re insane.”

“Never been more serious. Or sane. We’ll talk about it over dinner, which, by the way, I’m really getting hungry.”

“I’m not going to marry you, Rocky. You can’t propose marriage to a near stranger on the driveway over a dipstick—”

“I just did. I mean, I can do it better, but I’m working with a limited time frame here.”

“You are unhinged. And I would know.”

“I’m not. We’ll discuss it. I have until morning to change your mind. If you don’t want to get married you can leave. If not, we’ll go to the courthouse.”

“I’m not getting married at the courthouse. Can you safely get that hood down without bashing yourself in the head?”

“Yes. Please start the pasta.”

She resumed her walk to the house like some sort of zombie.

Marriage. Really.

“Gia?”

“Yes?”

“You left some of your underwear on the driveway.”

9

“No.” Gia handed Rocky a plate.

He put it in the dishwasher. “Stop saying no. We haven’t had a complete, honest conversation about it.”

She wiped the counter. “There was no talking to you while we ate. You were face down in a plate of spaghetti and that wasn’t even real sauce. If I made homemade sauce and meatballs for you, you probably wouldn’t be able to speak for days.”

He froze with his hand in a box of dishwasher tablets. “Don’t tease me, woman.”

She tossed the towel on the table. “You’re impossible.”

He pressed “start,” and chased her into the living area. “I’ve made a genuine proposal. I think we should genuinely talk about it.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make light of your proposal. If you’re truly serious, we should explore it. Where should I sit? I don’t want to take your spot.”

“You can have the recliner. It’s really Max’s spot. That’s where he sits when we’re watching movies.”

“I’ve heard that name before. Friend from church?”

“Yeah. He plays drums in our worship band and will be leading the new youth service that starts at the end of July. We hang out, work on cars together. Guy stuff.”

She nodded.

He panicked. Now that she was seated and listening, he didn’t know what to do. Yes, he was sincere. Yes, he wanted to marry her. Did that help his case? Not really. He could see why she’d think him a lunatic.

“I’ll get something to write on,” he said and zipped toward his office.

“Why do we need something to write on?”

He pulled a two-by-four-foot whiteboard from behind a bookcase. “Because,” he called back to her, “we’re going to approach this from a logical perspective.” He rummaged through a basket full of office supplies in search of a marker.

Her eyes grew wide when he returned with the board and propped it on the couch. She sighed. “Where has the romance gone?”

He uncapped the marker. “I told you I could do better, but we’re trying to have a logical discussion.” He made two columns and scrawled headings at the top.

“Pros and cons? You’re determined to suck the magic out of this, aren’t you?”

“Logic, Gia. We’re tackling an issue. Now quit goofin’ off and focus before I withdraw my proposal.”

“Fine. Con: We don’t know each other that well. Con: This doesn’t seem like something God would appreciate. Marriage should be serious and forever when possible. Not an escape route. Con: My parents don’t give a flip, but you seem to have a real relationship with yours. This wouldn’t go over well.” She paused to take a breath. “Are you getting all this? Because I’m being focused and logical. Con: You are well respected in this community and have ministry at church. You show up married to a pregnant woman you hardly know and tongues are gonna wag. I can’t jeopardize you in that way. Con: Babies may be blessings straight from God, but they are also exponential pooping machines that are expensive and take over your life. That’s fine if you’re ready, but I don’t have a clue yet what to do with one. I can’t let you take on an eighteen to twenty-five year commitment because you want to help me today. Con: I don’t know what kinds of repercussions are headed my way from the rapist. I can’t let you be in danger on my behalf. Con: Me. I’m the con. You’re a great guy, Rocky. I can’t let you settle for me. I’m not good enough for you.” She stood and slipped her feet back into her flip-flops. “So there you have it. Logic. I appreciate the proposal, but it can’t possibly work. You deserve better.”

He capped the marker and slid it onto the whiteboard tray. “Well, you seem resolved to not give this a fighting chance. I’m not an idiot, Gia. I have thought of all this.” He fought for a breath. Her passionate refusal didn’t offer much hope. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I thought we had a little more than casual interest going on between us. I would have sworn there was something to build on.”