The M Word (Best Friends Wedding Series) Page 5

  “Oh. For exercise. I’ve heard of that. It’s very trendy.”

  “They’ve been popular in Russia since the 1700’s.”

  “I guess eventually everything old is new again,” she said, looking back at the bills. She chewed on the end of her pen. She hoped Marius wouldn’t end up being one of those exercise fanatics who insisted that she follow his routine.

  He took several more trips from the car into the house. As he walked, he hummed something she didn't recognize.

  “That's a cheerful, bouncy tune. What is it from?” she asked, setting her pen down.

  “La Traviata.” He stood in the doorway. He sang one line of it, then explained, “Alfredo is giving a toast encouraging Violetta to drink to love.”

  “You sang some of that the other day. Is La Traviata your favorite opera?”

  He hesitated. “One of my favorites.”

  Brenda wished she knew more about opera so they'd have something to talk about. “Is that what you’re studying for your degree?”

  “Yes.”

  “Masters or Doctorate?”

  “Masters right now. Perhaps later I will get a doctorate.”

  Dr. Jaworski. He’d probably be good at it. “Do you plan to teach?”

  “Someday. Perhaps.” He smiled. “There is a Yiddish proverb I like: Mann traoch, Gott Lauch. Man plans and god laughs.”

  Brenda smiled.

  “So I work toward my goals, but I don’t expect them all to be achieved.”

  “That’s a healthy attitude,” Brenda said. That’s probably why he was such a calm person. He wasn’t as driven as she was. She realized that he never gave the impression that he was in a hurry. She hoped that some of his happier attitude would eventually rub off on her. She handed him two keys. “Here’s one for the front door and one for the back door. If you want it, there’s an extra remote for the garage door on top of the refrigerator.”

  “Thank you.” For a second as he took the keys, his fingers brushed hers.

  Brenda was startled by the warmth of his skin on hers.

  “Next month, we can probably get you a used car,” she continued briskly. “Do you have a driver’s license?”

  “Yes, but I do not need a car. My bicycle is sufficient.”

  “But now that you live here, it’s a much longer commute.” She said, “I don’t know how safe it is for you to be riding that distance at night, especially when it’s raining.”

  Marius smiled, but there was an underlying hint of steel to his words. “Thank you for your concern, but I do not need you to buy me a car. If I want a car, I will buy my own car.”

  Ooops. Belatedly, Brenda realized that she must have stepped on his masculine ego. Marius may not have as much money as she did, but he didn’t want to feel like a kept man. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly. He returned to his task of moving his belongings into her house.

  This marriage relationship was going to take some time to get used to.

  A few minutes later, he brought his pans into the kitchen. “Where would you like me to put these?” he asked.

  “Wherever,” she said. “With the remodeling, any system of organization I had is long gone now.”

  He noticed that there were several packages on the table.

  “Wedding presents,” she explained. “I’m trying to get a head start on the thank you notes.”

  “What have we received so far?”

  “Towels. A clock.” She motioned to the last package, a padded yellow envelope. “You can open that one, if you’d like.”

  He sat across from her and ripped open one end. “It is not wrapped,” he said, pulling out a wisp of black lingerie. He held up a pair of thong underwear. “For you,” he said, handing her the item.

  “Probably,” Brenda agreed wryly, taking the package from him. “I don’t think it would fit you.”

  Marius flashed a brief smile.

  She pulled out a matching cropped camisole top. “It’s probably from Andrea,” she said, checking the return address - blank. “Oh, here’s a card.” She reached into the padded envelope. “Now, watch it be from my Grandma Vicky,” she joked, then felt her face freeze as she recognized the handwriting on the card.

  Thinking of you.

  Brenda dropped the card as if it burned her fingers, then hastily wadded up the panties, the top, and the packaging. Without a word, she carried the items out to the garage and dumped them in her trash can.

  She came back to the kitchen, washed her hands and sat back down at the table.

  “From Steven?” Marius asked gently.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped. She had thank you notes to write, and she was not going to let Steven distract her.

  Marius watched her for a few minutes, in silence, then left the room.

  Brenda was glad he didn’t pry. For the next hour, she heard him unpacking his belongings and getting settled. She wrote her thank you notes, paid bills and straightened up the kitchen. Marius came into the kitchen just as she was at the sink. “Good night,” he said pleasantly.

  “Good night,” she said automatically, not even looking at him. She had poured herself a big glass of water and was searching searched through the cupboards for a medicine bottle. She shook four capsules into her palm and was about to put them in her mouth, when she saw him watching her. “Acetaminophen -- do you mind? I have a raging headache.”

  “That's not the solution,” he said gently. “I can give you a neck and head massage. It's very good for relieving stress.”

  If she thought it would do any good, she might have been tempted. But she didn't want anyone touching her. Not now and not for a long time to come. Brenda swallowed the capsules. “Keep your hands and your good advice to yourself,” she said fiercely, and walked past him, down to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Brenda woke to Marius singing scales. She rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. Five-twenty. She had ten minutes to lie in bed and enjoy the serenade.

  As she listened to him sing a capella, she thought, he really is good. Then his voice cracked on one of the higher notes.

  No one's perfect. He was silent for a moment. When he started again, he was back at the beginning of the scale.

  She considered lying in bed a few minutes longer. Then maybe he'd leave before she came into the kitchen. Coward. She needed to apologize for being such a shrew the night before. They were going to be man and wife, and at the bare minimum, that required civility.

  She took a shower, then dressed in a black suit and a royal blue blouse. As she stood in her small bathroom, applying her make-up, she smiled wryly at her reflection. At least there was one good thing about her short fuzzy hair -- it was very easy to take care of. But she’d be glad when it grew out enough so she wouldn’t need the wig.

  When she came to the kitchen, she saw Marius at the stove, cooking what smelled like scrambled eggs. He wore blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top that bared his muscled shoulders and arms. His feet were bare.

  He smiled. “Good morning.”

  Brenda swallowed, unable to say anything for a moment. She’d had no idea what had been hiding beneath his ill-fitting boxy dress shirts.

  Marius wasn’t stocky. He was built like Adonis, with wide shoulders and a surprisingly broad chest that tapered down to a washboard stomach. He didn’t have the extreme bulky look of a body builder. He looked more like an athlete -- a gymnast perhaps. He should have his clothes tailored to fit that incredible inverted triangle.

  Or maybe not. She didn’t want him to get mobbed by women on campus.

  “Good morning,” she said, finally finding her tongue. She noticed that his thick dark hair, slightly damp, curled back from his forehead. And the dark chest hair that had seemed too hairy before, now seemed appropriate.

  Maybe she was getting used to it.

  “I've made enough for two,” he said cheerfully. “Would you like some?”

  It wasn’t scrambled eggs. She was surprised to see that he had made a lightly golden omelet, bursting with finely chopped vegetables. It was beautiful, but she didn’t like eggs in the morning on an empty stomach.

  “No thank you,” she said politely. “I'm not very hungry.” She took a banana, peeled it, ate it, then poured herself a glass of milk. She drank standing up, watching as he set a place for himself at the table.

  She’d never known a man to actually sit down for breakfast. Steven always ate breakfast on the run, usually downing a foul smelling protein drink before he kissed her good bye.

  “Is that all you're eating?” Marius asked her, then frowned. “Pardon me. That is none of my business.”

  It was none of his business, but she had to give him credit for catching himself quickly. And she was determined to start their relationship on a higher plane. “About last night,” she began awkwardly. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

  His hand paused as he lifted a fork from the silverware drawer. He looked over at her. “No, I should apologize to you.”

  She wouldn't let him take the blame. “No, you were just trying to help, and I was in no mood for anything.”

  “Is your headache gone?”

  “Yes. I feel much better now.”

  “I’m glad.” He smiled. He turned back to his work. She watched as he slid the omelet from the pan onto his plate and carried it over the table. As he sat down, he looked at her expectantly.

  Brenda was embarrassed to be caught staring. She checked her wrist watch. “I've got to run,” she said, then remembered what she had meant to say the night before. “I’m going to be wearing a white dress for the wedding, so it would look nice if you wore a suit. If you have one. But if you don’t, your khakis would be fine.” She didn’t want him to spend extra money, either.

  “Would you prefer a tuxedo?”

  “No, there’s no need to rent one.”

  He looked at her calmly. “I own one.”

  The man whose entire wardrobe fit into two suitcases owned a tuxedo? Marius was full of surprises today. “Good,” she said finally. “That will be great.”

  #

  After she left, Marius ate his breakfast thoughtfully. Brenda was a passionate woman, with a quick temper, but equally quick to make amends. That was good. He would find it difficult to live with a moody woman who held grudges.

  He had overstepped his bounds last night, offering to give her a massage.

  She was still emotionally fragile. It would take time to earn her trust.

  But Marius wasn't worried. He was a patient man. God in His wisdom had let Brenda become part of his life. He would be forever grateful, no matter how precarious it might be.

  He started singing.

  #

  Every day at work, Deborah wanted to talk about the wedding. Other than a concerned, “Do you know what you’re doing?” she hadn’t specifically referred to Marius’ immigration status, which Brenda appreciated.

  She’d also toned down any mention of Marius’ physical looks, which was a relief. Brenda didn’t mind if her co-worker still had a secret crush on him, but she hoped that as Deborah came to know Marius better, his romantic mystique would fade, and she would see him just as another person, who happened to be nice looking.

  On the Friday before the wedding, Deborah asked, “What kind of wedding cake are you getting?”

  “I don’t know, yet. Whatever sheet cakes there are at the grocery store.”

  Deborah was horrified. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not? It’s just cake.”

  “You need a wedding cake,” her friend insisted.

  “I am not going to buy little plastic figurines of a bride and groom.”

  “If you don’t like those, you can put fresh flowers on top, but you need a wedding cake.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a tradition.”

  “Just because it’s a tradition, doesn’t mean I have to follow it. People would be just as happy with brownies and ice-cream.”

  Deborah offered, “I’ll make you a cake.”

  Brenda smiled wryly. It was crazy, but it seemed like everyone wanted to make her wedding fit their ideal. They were genuinely offended by her desire to keep the entire celebration simple and low-key. “No,” Brenda said. “Don’t go to all that effort.”

  “I insist,” Deborah said. “You’re only getting married once. You should have a nice cake.”

  Brenda was beginning to realize why Kelly had let her mother have full-reign on her nuptials. It was easier than fighting.

  “Very well. That would be nice. Thank you.”

  #

  On Sunday, Brenda and Marius drove to her parents’ house. Brenda talked more than she usually did, and Marius could tell that she was nervous, perhaps worried about what her parents would think of him. He wondered, himself. If he was a father, he would be very concerned if one of his daughters decided to get married within two and a half weeks. He glanced at Brenda, trying to imagine the two of them raising a daughter.

  She said, “I think it’s just going to be my parents, my brother and his family and my sisters and their families, but I could be wrong. We might end up with cousins and aunts as well who couldn’t wait until the wedding on Wednesday to meet you.”

  “You’re the youngest,” he said, trying to keep the members of her family straight in his mind.

  “Yes. Tom is twelve years older and Joan and Ellen are eight years older.”

  “They’re twins.”

  “Yes. And don’t bother trying to remember all the nieces and nephew’s names. Just smile a lot and let them climb on you, and you’ll fit right in.”

  “Sounds like you have a fun family.”

  She nodded. “Fun and noisy. Everyone talks at the same time, and if they feel that they aren’t being heard, they just talk louder and faster.”

  Marius smiled. “I like them already.”

  As they walked up to her parents’ front door, she added, “Oh, and everyone is a science fiction or fantasy nerd. There are different camps. Some are more Tolkien, some prefer Star Wars, and a few are rabid Harry Potter fans. I like C.S. Lewis best, but I’m in the minority. Everyone seems to like Star Trek, so that’s the safest ground until they get to know you better.”

  “I’ve never seen Star Trek,” he admitted. He knew some of the characters, of course.

  Brenda blanched. “Never? Not even the new movie?”

  “No, but if someone wants to compare Mozart to Beethoven, I can discuss that.”

  Brenda looked at him closely. “We really are from different worlds,” she said, just as her mother opened the front door.

  “Marius?” her mother exclaimed. He was briefly able to see a family resemblance between her and Brenda, before she hugged him. “Welcome to the family,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said.

  Brenda’s mother glanced at her with approval, then guided him into the crowded front room. “Here comes the groom,” she announced.

  #

  Marius was a brave man, Brenda thought later, as she watched him interact with her family. He dutifully ate the dry pot roast and lumpy mashed potatoes, and complimented her mother. He smiled and seemed totally unruffled by the intense conversations buzzing around him. A lesser man would have run screaming from the building. Although she loved her family, they had little tact, and she was appalled by some of their questions.

  Most of the inquiries were innocuous, and Brenda was interested to find out more about her future husband. She learned about Polish cooking, that Marius’ paternal grandmother was Italian and that he was a linguist. He was fluent in three languages: Polish, Italian and English, moderately passable in French and German, and that since he came to Texas, he was now learning Spanish.

  Brenda was impressed, and she could tell from the bemused expressions on her family’s faces that they liked him, but they thought he was a rare, strange creature. When he confessed his ignorance of Star Trek, her brother-in-law Keith jumped into a long lecture on the character development of Spock and Vulcan philosophy.

  Sprinkled throughout this discussion, there were a few awkward highlights.

  First, when Marius explained that he was studying Music History, her father asked bluntly, “Is there any money in that?”

  “Not much.”

  Next, her sister Joan asked where they were going on the honeymoon.

  Brenda answered “We’re not going anywhere,” at the same time that Marius answered, “We’re going camping.”

  “Camping?” her mother repeated, surprised. Their family tended to be more stare-at-the-computer types than sweat-in-the-outdoors types.

  Brenda looked at Marius with raised eyebrows, but didn’t want to emphasize the fact that she didn’t know what was going on.

  “I read online that planning the honeymoon is one of the groom’s responsibilities,” he said pleasantly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  She was definitely surprised. “How nice,” she lied weakly. The prospect of camping in the Texas heat in the middle of the summer sounded deadly. “What else was on the list of groom responsibilities?”

  “Flowers.” He turned to her mother. “I estimated seven corsages and boutonnieres. Will that be sufficient?”

  Her mother seemed pleased. “That’s lovely, thank you.” She flashed a look of triumph at Brenda who had vehemently nixed the idea of flowers the week before.

  Corsages at a family barbecue. Brenda inwardly cringed. She had a feeling that her wedding was going to be the tackiest conglomeration imaginable, but it was too late to complain now.

  “Will any of your family be coming?” her sister Ellen asked.

  “No, but I’m hoping that my mother will visit us in the fall,” he said.

  Later, one of her nephews wanted to show Marius his latest video game. Marius appeared to be interested, listened to the convoluted explanation and nodded appropriately. During the instruction, Marius’ cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen, turned the volume off, and put the phone back in his pocket.

  “Who’s Francesca?” her eagle-eyed nephew asked.

  “A friend,” Marius said simply.