The M Word (Best Friends Wedding Series) Page 4

  Better devil she didn't know, than the one she did.

  She quickly donned a short navy knit dress with three quarter length sleeves and a bateau neckline. Sandals and chunky white earrings and necklace completed the look.

  Marius smiled when he saw her. “You look lovely.”

  Brenda returned the smile. She could get used to his calm appreciation. There was no hint of ulterior motives in his tone. When most men complimented her, they were just trying to get her in the sack, but Marius sounded sincere.

  Then her conscience smote her. “There’s one more thing I forgot to tell you. And if it’s a deal breaker, I’ll understand.”

  Without another word, she pulled her wig off, exposing her fuzzy shorn scalp.

  Marius gasped. “You’ve been ill?”

  The look on his face was so tender, all her doubts fled. She was making the right choice to marry him. “No,” she said quickly. “I don’t have cancer. I’m completely healthy. I just got upset one day and cut it all off.”

  “Then I will try not to upset you.”

  She was amused by his serious tone. “It will grow back.”

  “Good.”

  “So you still agree to marry me?”

  “Yes.” He reached out to touch her temple, his fingers gliding feather soft above her ear.

  The gesture startled her, but she forced herself to stand still. She’d just asked him to marry her, so she’d better not flinch when he touched her.

  He said earnestly, “You are beautiful, even without your hair. It emphasizes your eyes.”

  She noticed that his eyes were a warm hazel.

  “Thank you.” His hand dropped down to his side and she held up the wig. “Should I put it back on or not?”

  Marius said, “That’s completely your decision.”

  Good answer. Steven would never have agreed to take a bald woman out to dinner. And personally, she didn’t want to go outside without the wig, herself. She didn’t like the way people stared. But it was nice to know that Marius would support her decision either way.

  She went back to her bedroom to adjust the wig. When she returned, Marius said, “Before we go, I have two things to tell you as well. They may also be what you call deal-breakers.”

  Brenda braced herself. All this honesty was emotionally draining. “Okay.”

  “I sing.”

  She waited, but he didn’t say anything more. “That’s it? I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I sing a lot. You know the saying that some people live to eat? Well, I live to sing. I sing when I work, when I take a shower, when I cook. And I sing in the evenings, too, before I sleep.”

  This was something she’d never considered. “How much time do you sing each day?”

  “On average, at least two hours, sometimes more.”

  It was quirky, but she could deal with it, unless he sounded atrocious. “How good are you? Should I buy earplugs?”

  He walked over to her piano and sat down at the bench. “You decide. What do you want to hear?”

  She followed him and stood, looking down at him. “It doesn't matter. Whatever you want.”

  He played a brief introduction, then started singing. “Un di felice, eterea, Mi balanaste innante ...”

  Brenda was astonished. His voice was rich and powerful and seemed to flood her small living room. He sang for a minute or two. When he stopped, she said, “I don't know much about opera, but that was amazing. What was that from?”

  “La Traviata.”

  “Italian, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did it mean?”

  “The hero, Alfredo is declaring his love for Violetta. He saw her once, a year earlier, and has loved her passionately ever since. As he tells her, 'You were so radiant, so heavenly, like an angelic vision, and from that day I loved you, Loving as never before.'“

  For a moment, it felt as if Marius was talking to her. Brenda felt her face flush.

  He said lightly, “Opera tends to be very dramatic. My favorite lines are at the end.” He sang again, “Dell universo intero, misterioso, altero, croce e delizia al cor.”

  After he finished, there was an awkward silence. “It's very pretty,” Brenda said. She knew her words were inadequate. She didn't have the vocabulary to describe the way the music made her feel. The song was full of passion and longing. It was overwhelming.

  “It means that love is a mysterious power, bringing pain and delight to the heart.”

  Right now, all she knew was the pain part. For a moment she watched him, watching her. Waiting. How would it feel to have someone love her like that?

  “Can you live with my singing?”

  This was a make- or break-it item, she could hear it in his voice. If she said no, they wouldn't get married. If she wanted a way out, this was her chance.

  But she didn't want a way out. She needed him, just as much as he needed her. “Yes,” she said finally, then smiled wryly. “I have a feeling living with you is going to be an education.”

  Marius laughed. “Not too painful, I hope. I promise no essay tests.”

  She smiled and picked up her purse, placing the strap over her shoulder. “And what’s the other thing? You said there were two things.”

  He nodded. “I don’t believe in divorce.”

  Brenda’s eyes widened. This was it, then. They were both fully committed. She said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The next day, Brenda called her parents. She talked to her mom briefly for a few minutes, then asked, “What are you doing on the fourth of July?”

  “Just the usual -- flag ceremony and patriotic breakfast at church, and then the family barbecue at night.” Her mother’s voice brightened. “Why? Have you and Steven changed your plans?”

  “Yes,” Brenda said slowly. Her mother still thought that she and Steven were going on a vacation to Hawaii for two weeks. Brenda hadn’t told her that she had broken up with him, because she had wanted to make sure it would last. She knew her family must be weary of her rollercoaster love life.

  “That’s great. Then we’ll see you at the barbecue.”

  “Yes, I’d like to come, but not with Steven. I’d like to bring someone else.”

  Her mother was quiet for a moment, processing this information. “Another man?” she asked.

  “His name is Marius.”

  Her mother asked, “Someone from work?”

  “No.”

  “What happened? Have you dumped Steven or did he dump you or am I completely not understanding this situation?”

  “No, you’re right. I dumped him.” That was one good thing about her family. No one sugar-coated anything.

  “Too bad you couldn’t have waited until after the trip to Hawaii,” her mother said cynically, then added, “No, I’m sure you know what you’re doing. I guess I should have seen this coming, when you moved out of his condo.” Her mother’s voice softened, “But you’re okay with it?”

  Trying to be. “Yes.”

  “Well then, I look forward to meeting your new friend -- what is his name again?”

  “Marius. Marius Jaworski.”

  Her mother laughed. “That’s a mouthful.”

  It was. Brenda didn’t particularly want to change her name on all her records, but if she didn’t, it might look suspicious to the government, and the last thing she wanted was USCIS on her doorstep. “And I’d like to ask a favor, too.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “Since most of the family will be at the house on the fourth, anyway, Marius and I thought it would be a convenient time to get married. If that’s all right with you.”

  “WHAT?” her mother screamed.

  Brenda held the phone a little farther away from her ear. “You don’t have to do anything special,” she assured her mother, “We want to keep it casual. I’ll arrange for the justice of the peace and buy some more food.”

  “Brenda Lee Williamson,” her mother said firmly, and Brenda knew she was in trouble. She never heard her middle name unless she was in trouble. “What the hell are you doing?”

  #

  After her parents, the next person to tell was Kelly. Brenda dreaded it. It had been difficult enough to convince her parents that she wanted to marry a man they’d never met, and Kelly knew her better than they did. Brenda wasn’t sure she could carry it off.

  But she had to.

  She waited a few days, then called and asked if she could drop by. “Sure,” Kelly said. “But be warned: the house is a mess. We’re still moving in and getting settled.”

  Brenda had a feeling that Kelly’s definition of a mess and hers were two different things. Even though her house was only half a mile from Kelly’s studio, they usually met at the studio rather than at her place. Kelly had been so busy with her own wedding preparations lately, she didn’t know how bad Brenda’s house looked.

  Brenda was surprised, when she arrived at Kelly’s grand three-story house, which was in a much better neighborhood, to discover that Lars wasn’t home. Kelly said he was working late.

  Brenda wondered. Was Kelly as happy in her marriage as she seemed to be? She looked pale.

  But then again, she was pregnant and had said she was tired, so perhaps that was the problem. Brenda didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

  She decided to make their conversation quick and let Kelly get the rest she needed.

  They sat in Kelly’s beautifully decorated kitchen and she told her the basics. She was getting married. Not to Steven, hallelujah, but to Marius, one of the bank customers, on the fourth of July.

  Kelly was stunned. “So soon?”

  Brenda made a joke, reminding Kelly that she had gotten married in a whirlwind herself.

/>   “You’re right,” Kelly admitted.

  “And I would like you to be my maid -- I mean, Matron of Honor.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  “I promise you won’t have to wear pink satin.”

  “That was my mother’s choice, not mine,” Kelly reminded, then looked at Brenda closely. “Do you love him?” she asked in a serious voice.

  Brenda hesitated. This was what she’d been dreading. She didn’t want to lie to Kelly, but she didn’t dare tell her the whole truth.

  “Yes, I do,” she said finally. She justified her answer by mentally adding, I love him as I love and appreciate every other honest, good man. I love the fact that he’s not Steven.

  Kelly looked at her thoughtfully, then smiled. “Alright,” she said in a lighter tone. “Tell me something wonderful about him.”

  “He sings love songs to me.” Technically, that was true.

  Kelly nodded her approval. “Is he cute?”

  Brenda shook her head. “Not really. He’s more rugged looking than cute. He’s got a beard.”

  Kelly raised her eyebrows. “I’ve never kissed a man with a beard. What’s it like?”

  I don’t know. “Bristly.”

  “Is he taller than you?”

  Kelly knew how important that had always been to her. “Yes.”

  Kelly said, “Wow. I can’t wait to meet him. This is going to be exciting. What can I do to help?”

  “I’d like you to help me pick out my wedding dress.”

  Kelly beamed. “That will be fun. When do you want to go shopping?”

  “I’m not buying a new dress,” Brenda said. “No offense, but I don’t think it’s worth it to spend a lot of money on something I’m only going to wear a few hours.”

  “You’re probably right. Are you going to rent a dress?”

  “No. Our wedding is going to be very casual. It’s going to be in my parents’ backyard, behind the pool. What I’d like, is for you to help me go through my closet and pick out the dress you like best.”

  “Are you sure?” Kelly questioned. “You don’t really want to get married in black, do you?”

  Now that she thought of it, most of her dressier evening clothes were black. Steven had liked her best in black.

  She bit her lip, considering. She didn’t want to wear anything that reminded her of Steven, and given their history, it would be difficult to find anything in her closet that she hadn’t worn with him.

  “I know!” Kelly exclaimed suddenly. “You can wear my dress.”

  “Fat chance. It wouldn’t fit. I am four inches taller than you.”

  “My mother’s seamstress can add a tuck or something on the bottom.”

  Brenda said, “No. Your dress was beautiful on you, but it would make me look like a barn. I don’t do well with poufy skirts.”

  “I’m sure she can streamline it, take out the netting.” Kelly found a notebook in a kitchen drawer and started sketching. In less than minute, she’d drawn a silhouette of her wedding dress. “Look, if we get rid of the train, there’s enough fabric to add some to the length.” With a few quick strokes of her pencil, she added Brenda’s shoulders and her head in profile to the drawing. As always, Brenda was amazed by her artistic abilities.

  “We can slim the skirt.” She glanced up at her. “Do you want to add sleeves?”

  Brenda had to admit that she was tempted. “You can’t just give me your ten thousand dollar dress.”

  “Why not?” Kelly asked. “I’m not going to wear it again, and we took dozens of pictures. Besides, it’s no longer a ten thousand dollar dress. It’s now a recycled dress.”

  That appealed to Brenda’s frugal nature. “But if you alter it, it’s practically making a brand new dress.”

  “It will be my wedding present to you,” Kelly countered.

  Brenda let her breath out slowly. She supposed that inside, nearly every woman wanted to have a beautiful dress like Cinderella going to the ball. She was no different, even though it flew in the face of her I-don’t-want-any-fuss principles. “Do you think there’s enough time to have it altered?”

  Kelly laughed, knowing that she had persuaded her. “What have you got -- two weeks? No problem. Plenty of time.”

  #

  Brenda drove to Marius’ apartment to pick him up. She was working the Saturday before their wedding, and with his school schedule, it was best for him to move in with her on a weeknight before the end of the month. Brenda had asked him if they needed to borrow or rent a truck, but he said no, all his belongings could fit in her car -- a conservative, ten year old sedan.

  She had purchased a bicycle rack, which he attached to the back of her car. She watched him work. He glanced at the instructions and had the rack attached to the car in only a few minutes, which impressed her.

  He was good with tools, like her father, she thought. But he was better than her father, who tended to leave his equipment out all over the place. Marius was much tidier, cleaning as he went. He gathered up the packaging from the bicycle rack and threw it away in the apartment dumpster. Today he was wearing a polo shirt and a pair of canvas shorts. She noticed that his legs were firm and muscled and beautifully shaped. Must be all that bike riding.

  Brenda smiled at him. “I hope everything can fit, but I don’t mind if we need to take a second trip.”

  He glanced at the space in the trunk of her car. “There should be enough room.”

  And there was. Marius had only two large suitcases, a briefcase with a laptop computer, a backpack, and a few boxes that fit easily in her second seat. “How long have you lived in the United States?” she asked.

  “Three years.”

  She found it amazing that he hadn’t accumulated more belongings.

  Brenda noticed that one of the boxes was filled with several pans and a cutting board. “Do you cook?” she asked.

  He smiled in a bemused way. “I like to eat.”

  That could mean anything, but she’d find out more about him as they lived together. “Speaking of eating,” she said casually, as they both sat in her car. “My parents want to meet you and I said this Sunday would be fine. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes. I look forward to meeting your family.”

  “I told them that we met over a year ago, and that we’d seen each other off and on -- casually -- but that our relationship changed recently when I broke up with Steven. I think it’s best to keep the dates and the details vague.”

  “Steven is your ex- boyfriend?”

  She clenched her teeth. “Yes.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “Nearly two years.”

  She glanced at Marius, who had a serious expression on his face.

  “Is there anything else I should know about him?”

  Brenda hated to say this part, knowing that it would make Marius think less of her, but she had to be completely honest, even if he thought she was a slut. Someone had called her that in high school and the word still stung. “He’s married.”

  Marius nodded and said dryly, “Then it’s much better for you to marry me.”

  She smiled briefly, grateful that he hadn’t acted horrified or asked any more questions. “Yes.”

  When they arrived at her house, Brenda parked in the attached garage. “We can get a wall hook for your bicycle,” she offered.

  “It will be fine, leaning against the wall,” he said.

  She unlocked the door to the house. “I’ve emptied out one of the bedrooms for you,” she said clearly. “To give us both some privacy. At least, at first.” She blushed, knowing how awkward she sounded. But their relationship was awkward, and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Eventually they were going to sleep together, but not yet.

  “Very wise,” he said with a smile.

  “Your bathroom is right across the hall. I have my own bathroom in the master bedroom.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want help bringing your things in?”

  “No, thank you.”

  How polite he was. Brenda retreated to the kitchen, and busied herself with paying bills.

  For the next few minutes, she heard him walking past, carrying his belongings. He carried one thing that looked like an iron bowling ball with a metal handle.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “A kettle bell.”