Waking Sleeping Beauty (21 page)

But first she had a wedding to attend to. Her last one.

***

Sitting in her pajamas on her living room floor, Francine sighed heavily. New Year’s Eve and she was all alone watching the clock tick down.

While Priscilla jumped at the chance to attend Rico’s big bash, Francine decided to stay home to rest for the mystery wedding tomorrow. That and she couldn’t pretend to be happy at the prospect of the New Year. After all, in twenty-four hours, she’d be unemployed. But the most difficult thing to imagine was her life without Marcus.

“I wonder where he is right now.”

A pang of loneliness bounced in her chest. She brushed it aside.

She shifted, and then pounded a pillow and threw it across the room. Leaning back in defeat, her hand encountered something solid under the edge of the couch. Her heart stilled. Digging it out, she grabbed for her wedding binder.

It seemed like ages since she’d held it. Now, she slowly flipped through the pages, feeling like a stranger eavesdropping on someone else’s life. Beautiful photos filled the album, each one more foreign than the last.

“How could I have been so far off base? How could I have wasted so much time on nothing more than a dog and pony show?”

The countdown, playing on the TV Priscilla had gotten for Christmas, caught her attention. The brilliantly lit ball descended. “Five, four, three, two, one!”

The cheers rang out. Horns blasted. “Auld Lang Syne” played. Shot after shot of happy couples kissing filled the screen.

Francine gazed down at the wedding binder, and then slammed it shut. Jumping up, still clutching the book, she marched to the door. She unlocked the door and flung it open. With each determined step, she grew closer to her destination. She yanked on the handle and jerked on the small trash door in the wall. It fell open. Without a second thought, she tossed her nearly lifelong companion down the trash shoot. It hit with a dull thud.

“Goodbye and good riddance,” she shouted down the hole. Letting go of the door, it slammed shut. She dusted her hands off. “Never again will I dream about life. It’s time to live it.”

Stepping out of the limo, Marcus straightened his suit. He headed for the nursing home door. Isaac greeted him on the other side.

“Marcus, good to see you, son.” The older man shook his hand. “How do I look?” He adjusted his tie.

“Never better. Mom ready?”

“She’s coming.” He leaned forward and touched Marcus’ arm. “You know women. They like to keep us waiting.”

He smiled. “Keeps us on our toes, right?”

“Yes, yes.” He looked over his shoulder, and then back at Marcus. “Ah…can I have a minute. You know.” He nodded his head to the lounge area.

Marcus sighed with relief when he realized it wasn’t the tea room he’d found Francie in two weeks ago. He couldn’t forget that kiss. Or the woman.

Entering the room, Marcus waved Isaac to a nearby armchair.

“No, can’t sit still. Ants in my pants.” He chuckled.

“You’ll be a hit on the dance floor.”

A noise from the hallway made Isaac jump. He peered around the corner, and then sighed. “Thank goodness that wasn’t her.”

He grew concerned for the older man. “You sure you’re up to this?”

Sighing, he said, “I’ll just ask you and get it over with.”

Marcus nodded.

“I’d like to ask your permission to marry your mother.”

He pulled back. “Permission?” This was the first man to ever ask. “My mother’s old enough to make her own decisions.”
Good or bad.

“She is at that. But I would never want to come between you two. You’re all she has left.”

“Do you love her?” Marcus surprised himself with the question. Where had that come from? When had he begun to trust in love?

“Always have, I’m afraid.”

“Always?”

His smile faded. “The day I found out about my late wife and your father…well, I was the one to go to your home and tell your mother.” His voice hitched. “I thought she should know. The only decent thing to do.”

“She told me’”

He nodded. “She already knew. Oh, not the woman, mind you, but she knew your father was having an affair. I’m sure I’m not telling you what you don’t already know.”

Marcus’ face seemed frozen.

“Your mother was so sweet, so caring. She was more worried about me than herself. And she protected you from it all, as best she could. I didn’t realize it until later, but she helped me more than I can ever say. I was certain I had a crush on her. But, over the years, we talked now and then, wrote here and there, and I found I was falling in love with her or maybe I just discovered it. My, when she showed up at this place, I thought my heart would leap right out of my chest. Not a good thing for an old man with a heart condition, is it?” He chuckled.

As the older man talked, Marcus relaxed. He’d never heard any of the men in his mother’s life talk about her like Isaac did or treat her so well, even her five husbands, his father included. And his mother’s grin from ear to ear, the way her face lit up, and the bounce in her step, even with a cane, whenever Marcus saw them together eased his mind even more.

He stuck out his hand to Isaac. “Welcome to the family, Dad.”

***

Riding in the limo to the mystery wedding, Marcus listened to his mother’s enthusiasm.

“I do love a wedding. I’m so excited to see everything come together. That dear girl, Francine, has been keeping me posted.”

At the mention of Francie, Marcus sucked in a breath.

“And to think she invited me. Us.” She turned to her date and put a hand on his arm. “Isn’t this wonderful? Oh, and how I must thank her for selecting this beautiful gown for me. Blush, it’s a perfect color for me, don’t you think? She’s so sweet.”

“I can’t wait to try out my fox trot.” Isaac shifted a foot forward, and then back. “One, two, three…”

Marcus grinned and shook his head. At least someone would have a good time.

His thoughts returned to Francie. Without a bride and groom, there was no wedding. Without a wedding, there was sharp criticism to deal with. Earlier, he’d jotted down a statement to release to the press in the morning.

Damage control
.

Francine realized it. Her resignation would blunt the time frame King’s would have to manage the attacks.
Sham. Leading the public on.

All her hard work and incredible efforts would be lost to everyone, except a few. If the managers had hated her before, they would lead the pack in heaping the blame on her and curtailing the backlash on themselves or their departments. Human nature, he noted.

He refused to do that to her.

But he did agree to run King’s for at least another eight more weeks until Charlie interviewed the dozen or so prospective candidates to take over permanently. Following the latest doctor’s orders, she’d still been restricted from working full-time or devoting herself to the search more than she’d been allowed.

Soldiering on, Marcus promised he’d do everything in his power to correct the stain on King’s reputation after this mystery wedding failure.

He only wished he could protect Francie through it all.

His cell phone rang.

“Oh, dear, who could that be?” his mother asked.

Answering it, he barely got out his name before he heard the familiar voice.

“Boss, we got trouble in River City.”

“Peg, give it to me straight.”

“Do I any other way?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “The chef’s still hung over. We ain’t getting nothing from him. Francine’s tried to rally the troops, but they’re all tripping over each other. We need you bad, Boss.”

“On my way.”

“Roger that, over and out,” she said, hanging up the phone.

“Sounds serious,” Isaac murmured.

Marcus muttered, and then punched at a number. Thankfully, his friend answered on the first ring. “Mayday, Stu.”

“All hands on deck?” his friend asked.

After a short, to the point two-minute conversation, Marcus clicked the phone shut. Dawn and the end of this fiasco couldn’t come soon enough.

A fusion of panic shot through him. It would end and so would his time with Francie.

Dread filled him. His heart squeezed in his chest. What would life be like without her?
Cold. Lonely. Empty.

***

Francine blew out a hot breath. Chaos in the kitchen reigned. Without a chef, the staff bumped into each other and lost track of their priorities.

“Disaster!” Peg rushed past her to grab a falling tray. “Got it,” she cried in triumph. Coming back, she faced Francie. “Operation fix-it in place.”

Shaking her head, she wondered if she should throw up her hands and quit now. Deep inside, she knew she couldn’t do that. Francie refused to give up. “You said Marcus is on his way. And I called Dolly to come quick.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Dinner will be late, but at least it will be edible.”

Just outside the kitchen, she heard a commotion. Twisting, she watched Marcus rush in, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“You are a lifesaver,” she said, unable to stop the well of love rushing through her. She held out her hand and took his jacket, holding it close. The fabric held the heat of his body.

He rolled up his sleeves, and then he tugged off his tie, handing it to her. “We’re not drowning yet.” For a moment, he stared into her eyes. Her heart turned over. “Francine,” he said softly, “we have to talk. We can’t do this to each other anymore. I don’t want this gut-wrenching feeling every time I think about you—”

Peg wedged her way in between them. “Not now. Boss, you over there.” She pointed to the center island. Turning, she looked at Francine and pointed in the other direction. “You, out there.”

Francine came to attention, saluting her pal. “Got it, Sarge!”

Time raced by while Francine tended to the last-minute details. She didn’t have a moment to consider Marcus’ words. Rico and Evelyn not only followed directions, they caught a few things she’d missed or forgotten about.

“Wedding cake in place. Check. Candles on tables lit. Check. Guests seated at tables. Check. Bouquets and boutonnieres in the backroom. Check. Band playing to distract everyone. Check.” Francine went down her list. “Bride and groom. Not checked,” she said under her breath.

Thankfully, Marcus, his friend Stuart, and Dolly commanded the kitchen and the scrumptious hors d’oeuvres pleased the impatience of the employees. She couldn’t blame them for tiring of the wait; they were at least an hour behind schedule already.

The longer this dragged on, the more daunting her task became.

Dread pooled in her middle. Hating her didn’t matter any longer. The store’s honor and integrity did. How could she be the one to ruin all the years of trust and loyalty?

Rico clucked. “Girl, your hair is a wreck and so are you. Come on, let me fix you up.”

She obeyed. Stalling a few minutes more wouldn’t hurt.

It did nothing for her nerves, though
, she thought, gripping the arms of the chair Rico parked her in. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the divine creation Charlie had designed and Dolly had whipped up hanging nearby. The sweetheart neckline, tiny beading covering the bodice, the way the dress flared slightly, the subtle beading dotting the edges, the lush fabric… “Exquisite,” she murmured. Francie’s perfect wedding dress would sit unworn tonight.

Rico worked his magic. Before she knew it, she stared at her reflection and the emerging miracle he performed on her. At least she wouldn’t shame one of the fuchsia strapless bridesmaid’s dresses she decided to wear tonight.
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride
.

“You’re as white as a ghost.” He swished more blush on her cheeks. His sigh of resignation sunk in her muddled brain.

“Thanks.” Tears stung her eyes. “For everything. You’ve been a true friend to me.”

He dabbed at his own eyes. “Quit it, will ya? I’m going to ruin my face.”

“You know I’m doomed, don’t you?”

A flash of fear changed his expression.

“It’s yours. I’ve made sure you take over.”

“I don’t want it without you,” he choked.

“Now you’re going to make me cry. Even more.” She bit her lip. “It’s time.”

***

Francine stood in front of the arch decorated with white lights and flowers. She blinked under the glare of the spotlight, holding a mic in her sweaty hand. The curtain of lights behind the sheer blush fabric covering the walls and swags of the matching material hanging overhead created the perfect backdrop for the overall decor. The crystal chandeliers sparkled. Lit candles and the fragrance from the floral centerpieces filled the air. Most of the large, round tables were filled, except for the three chairs for Marcus and Dolly and herself at her own family table to her immediate right. His mother and Isaac seemed happy chatting with her brother-in-law. She took comfort in Charlie and Priscilla’s warm hugs a few seconds ago. “Thank you all for coming tonight.”

“As if we could not come,” someone from the wedding department called out. “I’ve been dying to see this for weeks now.”

In the shadows, she noticed the wait staff filed out along the back wall. Stuart joined them, while Dolly scooted into her chair next to her boyfriend. Marcus stood silhouetted in the doorway to the kitchen. Her breath caught in the back of her throat at the sight of him.

“I like your excitement,” she said to the murmuring crowd. She felt the heat and it wasn’t just from the lights. She sighed heavily and it rushed through the room. “Sorry, I’m not used to speaking on this thing.”

“Oh, dear, you’re doing wonderfully,” Marcus’ mother cried out. “We’re having such a lovely time.”

“You’re so sweet,” Francine said, touched at the older woman’s show of support. She waved to the table. “Have you all met Marcus’ mother, Mrs. Martha Reed, and her charming date, Mr. Isaac Washington?”

Applause rang out.

Quiet descended. Francine swallowed hard. “As you all know, this has been a long journey for not just me, but all of you as well.”