Ain’t Too Proud to Beg
Part Three
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Last time we visited this
story, we learned that Trixie is determined to forget about Jim. However, several
memories refuse to be forgotten. When we caught up with Jim, we discovered that
he has not been sleeping at night and is absolutely miserable, but after Trixie
refused to return his calls, he feels like there is no hope for them to be
together. Will these two fools ever learn? Join us now in the Glimpses into
the Future universe for the third
installment of “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg.”
Thursday, October 7
“Can you believe that Vanessa wants the bridesmaids’ dresses to be puce? I
mean, that is so last season,” Amanda
Woodward exclaimed haughtily, flipping back her shiny, blonde tresses. “I could
accept eggplant, and perhaps even mulberry, but I couldn’t bear for my attendants to wear puce.
“I mean really!” She rolled her eyes in
exasperation. “Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. Do you know that Vanessa
actually mixes her designers? During
a cocktail party last May, she wore a Prada suit with
Armani heels. If that wasn’t bad enough, she carried a Gucci handbag. I almost
died.
“Not to mention the
fact that the suit was black. Not charcoal. Black! A full month after Easter! I’m sorry, but
there’s just no excuse for that sort
of flagrant disregard for fashion etiquette.”
She paused
momentarily in her rampage to take a nibble of her salad. Noticing that she did
not have her groom-to-be’s full attention, she placed
her salad fork “just so” by her plate and wiped her mouth daintily with the
napkin lying upon her lap.
“Jimmy, are you
listening to me?” she asked in a perfectly modulated voice.
However, Jim Frayne
did not look up. He stared at his plate, absentmindedly picking at his food.
Amanda breathed an
irritated sigh, knowing her fiancé had not heard one single word she had said.
It wouldn’t have been so aggravating, but this had become standard procedure
the past two months.
“Jim!” she hissed loudly, banging the table for emphasis.
He jumped in his
seat, startled out of his thoughts. “Huh?”
“Did you hear even
one word I said, Jimmy dear?” Amanda asked, her sweet smile not hiding her
annoyance.
“Are you going to get
even madder at me if I admit that I didn’t, or should I just lie?” he asked
ruefully.
Amanda pursed her
lips, then exhaled deeply. “I’m not angry. I know you
have a lot on your mind with the academy, and I’m trying to be patient. However, I would appreciate your attention
when I’m discussing our wedding plans.”
Jim looked back down
at his plate. “Why do we need to make the arrangements? We haven’t even set a
date.” Immediately, he gave himself a swift, mental kick in the pants for
bringing up that particular subject.
“Weeell,” she drawled out dramatically, “our lack of a wedding date isn’t my fault. I’ve tried several times to
discuss that teensy tiny detail with
you, but every time I mention it, you
change the subject.”
“I know,” he admitted
sadly. A wave of guilt passed over him, as he saw the hurt in Amanda’s eyes.
“It’s my fault, and I promise that as soon as I’m more familiar with my duties
at the school, we’ll sit down and decide on a date.”
Amanda carefully
studied his face, a concerned expression upon her own. “Are you okay, Jim? You
just seem so… depressed lately.”
“I’m fine,” he
muttered, preoccupied once again with poking the food on his plate.
“You haven’t eaten
anything,” she remarked quietly. “In fact, you look like you’ve lost weight.”
She placed her hand upon his free one that rested on the table. “I noticed the
bags under your eyes, Jimmy. Are you having trouble sleeping? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine!” Jim
snapped, yanking his hand away. He sighed wearily, instantly filled with
remorse. He ran his hand through his dark red hair and took a deep cleansing
breath. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m just
under a lot of stress right now.”
“I understand,” she said, hurt
evident in her voice. “You’re busy, so we’ll wait to set the date. However, I do need to begin making the
arrangements. It will take at least a year to plan the type of society wedding
that we’ll be expected to have. I’d like to begin the preparations now so that
when we do agree on a day, we won’t
have to wait an additional year for the planning stage to be completed.”
Jim nodded,
desperately trying to muster some enthusiasm.
“And there are certain details that require special
attention, such as the choice of wedding attire,” she continued. “Vera Wang is
a personal friend of Mother’s, and she has graciously agreed to design my gown,
as well as the ones for our mothers and my attendants. Vera has requested that I submit my color
preferences as soon as possible so that she can begin her work.”
Jim shrugged.
“Whatever. Just tell her what you like, and that’ll be fine with me.”
Amanda sighed loudly
and rolled her eyes. Her perfect lips formed a pout. “You’re missing the point,
Jimmy. This is your wedding also, and I’d
like to have input from you. I want this to be a special day that you and I
will remember forever. So can’t you at least answer a couple of questions for
me? Pretty please?”
Jim resisted the urge
to groan, and instead dutifully inquired, “What do you want to know?”
The pout immediately
vanished as Amanda pulled a tiny notebook out of her Prada
handbag. “I adore the shade of
twilight lavender. I think it would be the perfect color for my attendants’
gowns. Or do you prefer royal heather?”
Eeney meeney miney mo,
he thought to himself. “Royal heather,” he answered out loud.
With a delighted
smile, Amanda made a note by that item on her list. “Now, about the mothers’
dresses… I’d like their gowns to be a shade darker than those of the
attendants, to symbolize their advanced wisdom and maturity. I absolutely fell
in love with the hue
Jim stifled a snort.
“I couldn’t say. Maybe you can ask her yourself when she and Dad return from
their trip.”
Amanda nodded, then focused on the next item up for discussion. “Since I
want to look absolutely beautiful for you on our wedding day, what style of
dress should I wear?” She caressed
Jim’s arm lightly with her fingertips, and lovingly looked up at him, her
eyelashes batting a mile a minute.
Unbidden memories
forced their way into Jim’s mind, as he recalled another wedding many years
ago. His heart ached as he thought about the most beautiful girl in the world.
If he closed his eyes, he could
still see her coming down the aisle toward him…
“Jim? What should I
wear?” Amanda asked hopefully.
Startled from his
memories, Jim cleared his throat nervously. “I don’t know. Nothing
too fancy. Maybe a simple white dress with a blue
satin sash.”
Amanda looked at him
with a dumbfounded expression on her face, then burst
out in a gale of honking, screeching laughter. Jim cringed and sank down in his
chair, as people from nearby tables turned around in their seats, in search of
the goose who had escaped becoming the main course.
“Get serious, Jimmy!” she
shrieked. “This isn’t the ‘Sound of Music’, and blue satin sashes are not some of my favorite things.”
“I was serious,” he replied calmly.
Amanda’s
eyes widened in horror. “Let’s move on to something else, shall we? How
should I wear my hair for you, Jimmy? I know you love my hair.”
Jim knew he wasn’t
being fair to his fiancée. He tried to concentrate solely upon her and answer
her question, but a vision of sandy curls distracted him.
“Jimmy?” she
prompted. “Would it look nice in a chignon or perhaps a French twist?”
“Maybe you could curl it. That
would look pretty,” he suggested with a nervous gulp.
Amanda exhaled loudly
to emphasize her displeasure. “What do you want the caterers to serve?”
Later that evening…
Jim expertly parked
his charcoal gray Suburban into his parking spot at the Manor House. He noticed
his sister’s gold BMW parked in the spot reserved for visitors. He got out of
his vehicle, and hurried inside the house out of the drizzling rain.
As he stepped into
the foyer, Celia Delanoy retrieved his wet dress
coat. “It sure is nasty outside,” she commented, lamenting the puddle of water
on the once clean ceramic tiled floor.
“Yeah, it’s coming
down pretty good,” Jim agreed, taking off his shoes to avoid tracking in even
more water. “It’s supposed to get worse. Hey, is Honey here? I thought I saw
her car parked outside.”
Celia nodded as she
turned to hang up Jim’s coat in the large closet. “She’s in the family room.
Her apartment is being painted. The fumes were bothering her, so she decided to
spend the night here.”
“Great. I’ll go talk
to her, if she’s not busy.”
“Right now she’s on
the phone, but I’m sure she won’t mind if you join her,” Celia replied.
“I won’t bother her
if she’s on the phone with Brian. I’ll give them some privacy.”
“Oh, she isn’t
talking to Brian,” Celia corrected. “She’s talking to Trixie.”
Jim’s ginger brows
slightly rose at this bit of information. “Oh. Well, maybe Honey won’t mind… if
I’m really quiet…” He hurried down the hall.
His sock-clad feet
enabled him to enter the family room without making a sound. He found Honey
curled up on the sectional sofa, holding the cordless phone to her ear. Since
her back was to the door, she didn’t hear Jim enter the room.
“So you went out with
him again? Wow!”
Jim froze in his
tracks. He had originally planned to let Honey know he had entered the room.
After hearing what she said, he quickly decided to wait and listen for a minute
without announcing his presence. He held his breath as the conversation
continued.
“Now, how long have
you officially been seeing him...? That long already?
That’s a record for you... Hmmm… sounds serious… It must be if you’ve advanced to the weeknight date stage… Shall I
pick out my maid of honor gown?” Honey giggled at Trixie’s response.
Part of Jim ached to know the
answer, but the other part of him decided ignorance was bliss.
“Have you told Mart
that your string of one-hit wonders has finally come to an end...? Yeah, I
guess so… No, I haven’t mentioned Jack to anybody…”
I sure hadn’t heard about Jack, Jim thought with a troubled sigh. He
strained his ears as Honey spoke again.
“Do you plan on keeping him a
secret forever...? Yeah, that would be a good idea… I’m sure he’d like to meet
your family…”
Jim paled at that
comment. Meeting the parents was quite a serious step in any relationship. But
surely Trixie wasn’t serious about this guy already?
“They won’t scare him
away, sweetie! It sounds like he’s crazy about you… Are you planning on coming
home soon...? Oh, Thanksgiving… Ah, so you intend on keeping Mr. Palmer around
for a long time.”
Jack Palmer, Jim repeated the entire name to himself. I need to remember that so I can ask Dan to
do a background check on him. Maybe he can show this Jack guy those guns he’s
been talking so much about…
“Tell me more about
him,” Honey urged. “Pleeease...? We never get to talk about boys…
Come on! It’ll be like old times… If you don’t, I’m going to tell you how good
Brian kisses…*giggle* I thought that
would work!... Oh, I don’t know. Tell me what he looks
like.” After several minutes, Honey sighed dreamily.
Jim rolled his eyes
in disgust. Give me a break!
“Ooohh,”
Honey gushed, “he sounds handsome! Does he look like anyone we know?” She
jumped up and squealed in delight. “No way!... Are you
kidding...? Ewan McGregor!”
Jim scowled. Mr. Perplexing Existence himself, he
sulked. He knew he could slip away at any moment and end his torture, but he
remained rooted to the spot, prolonging his agony.
“Does work interfere
with your relationship...? Oh, that’s good… I’m sure it would make those long hours more interesting,” Honey giggled. “Is
he a good detective?”
Jim thought for sure
he heard Trixie’s indignant sniff from where he stood.
“Just because he’s
gorgeous, sweet, and perfectly perfect doesn’t mean he’s a good investigator,”
Honey teased. She waited a moment for Trixie’s response. “Yeah, I remember that
special case you told me about… But that’s just one assignment. I want the
whole picture… The best detective you’ve ever worked with...? Now, that’s a compliment!...
Ralph wants him to take over the business when he retires? Wow! He must be
good…”
So he’s a detective, Jim shrugged with feigned indifference. Who cares?
“He turned down a job with the Secret Service? Whoa… He really
worked with the CIA? Cool… I’m impressed! He sounds like James Bond.”
Overcome with envy,
Jim silently mouthed, James Bond. Whoop-eee! His exaggerated eye-rolling and hand-gesturing did
little to improve his spirits.
“Is he arrogant? Some
guys like him are such male chauvinist
pigs… He’s not? That’s good… Wow! He asked you to do that...? Sounds like he
has a lot of confidence in you…”
A pang of guilt
filled Jim’s heart as he remembered the many times he doubted Trixie. He had
tried several times to make it clear that he believed in her abilities now, but
he wondered, Does she really know how
incredible I think she is?
“He sounds soooo wonderful! A definite keeper… Of course, I’m happy for
you! Sweetie, after all you’ve been through, you deserve a man like Jack!”
Jim furrowed his
brows as he pondered what Honey had said. What’s
Trixie been through? If some guy hurt her, I’ll kill him! Surely she isn’t
talking about… The agonizing ache returned to his heart. Regret swept over
him, as he placed a protective hand over the tiny ring box he always carried in
his jacket pocket.
“So, is he a good kisser...? *giggle*… I told you, I want details!... Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me… *giggle* Well, at least he has those
strong biceps to catch you when you have woozy knees!”
Jim silently stuck his finger down
in his throat in a gagging motion. Oh, puh-lease…
“Have either of you said the ‘L’
word yet?”
Jim’s held his breath
as he waited for the reply.
“Not
‘lasagna’, you silly goose! Answer the question… Don’t play coy with me,
Miss Belden. You know very well what ‘L’ word I’m referring to… No comment,
huh? Well, fine then…No, no… I’m just
your best friend in the whole wide world… no need to tell me your deepest
secrets.”
Honey began wiggling
around in her seat in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. Fearing
she might turn around and see him eavesdropping, Jim tiptoed out of the room
and stood just outside the doorway. He reentered the room, this time making
enough noise to catch Honey’s attention.
She looked up in her
brother’s direction, and mouthed hello. “Hang on a minute. I have a visitor.”
“If you’re talking on
the phone, I can come back later,” he whispered. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s okay,” Honey
told him. “We’re just about finished anyway. I’ll be off in a second.” She
returned to her conversation. “I’d better go. The prodigal son has returned
home from his date… *giggle*
No, I’m not
going to ask him if the goose laid a golden egg!... Well, this call is going to
cost Daddy a fortune, so I need to say good-bye…*giggle* Yes, I know that Daddy could buy
the phone company, but it’s the principle of the matter… E-mail me tomorrow
night after you get home… Bye!”
Honey clicked the end
button on the phone. “You’re home early from your date. It’s not even
Jim shrugged and took
off his suit jacket. After draping it along the back of the recliner across
from the sofa, he sat down and faced his sister. “Amanda has an early morning
meeting tomorrow, so I took her home right after we finished dinner.” He
nervously clasped and unclasped his hands in his lap. “So… did you have a nice
talk with Brian?”
Honey looked confused
for a moment, then shook her head. “I wasn’t on the
phone with Brian,” she told him.
“Oh,
really?” Jim feigned surprise. “Who were you talking to?”
“Trixie,” she
answered. “We talk every week. We usually have our conversation on Wednesday
night, but she… she wasn’t home last night, so I called her tonight.”
“That’s nice.” Jim
paused for a moment, then asked innocently, “So… where
was she last night?”
“Out,” Honey replied
nervously. She picked up the remote and began flipping through channels.
“Did she mention me?”
Honey shrugged. “Not
really.”
Jim sat quietly for a
couple minutes, choosing his next words carefully. “I just happened to overhear you ask Trixie to e-mail you tomorrow
night. Anything important going on?”
“No. Nothing of interest to you.”
“I thought for sure I
heard you say ‘after you get home.’ Of course, I wasn’t really listening, so I could
be mistaken,” Jim commented in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. “Is she
going someplace?”
“Yes,” she answered,
trying to concentrate on the Cary Grant movie she had found on the classics
channel.
Jim exhaled in
disgust. Honey sure isn’t making this
easy on me, he thought. Gritting his teeth, he questioned, “Where’s she
going?”
“Out.”
His frustrated groan
drew Honey’s attention from the big screen TV. “Something wrong?” she inquired
innocently.
“Well, you’re not
being very specific,” Jim complained.
“Well, you’re not asking specific questions,”
she replied cheekily. “Instead of tiptoeing through the tulips, spit it out.”
Jim’s ears burned. He
debated feigning disinterest and walking away, but he knew his curiosity would
gnaw at him until his questions were answered. He cleared his throat, then asked, “Is she going on a date?”
“She
who?”
Jim took a deep
breath and counted to ten. “Trixie,”
he said through gritted teeth. “Is Trixie
going on a date?”
Honey suppressed a
smile. “Yes, she is. Anything else you’d like to know?”
“Has she gone out
with this guy before?”
She glanced at her
brother in amusement. He looked positively green with envy. “Yes, she has. Several times, in fact.”
“So… is she serious
about him?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Jim’s mouth gaped
open in surprise. He threw his hands up and sputtered. “I-I… uhhh… I just am---”
Honey leaned forward
and rested her crossed arms upon her knees. “Jealous,” she provided for him
with a grin.
Jim laughed to
dismiss her claim, but his chuckle sounded forced. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” she insisted. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not! I only
asked because---”
“Because you’re
jealous,” Honey interrupted with a satisfied smile. “It’s written all over your
face. Trixie has a serious boyfriend, and you’re
jealous.”
“No, I’m not!” he
argued loudly, his face even redder than his hair.
“Then why do you want
to know?” she insisted.
“Forget it!” Jim
barked angrily. “Why should it matter to you anyway?”
Honey stood and
stalked over to her brother. Her hazel eyes blazed a brilliant amber color as
she glared down at him. “Well, it does
matter to me!” she shouted, jabbing her finger against his chest. “I’m your
sister and Trixie’s my best friend, and I want to see you happy!”
“I am happy!” Jim bellowed, trying to
convince himself as well as Honey. “If I was any happier, I’d throw up from the
excitement!” he added, his arms flailing about wildly to emphasize his point.
“It matters to a lot
of other people besides me, Jim,”
Honey commented, her tone still firm, but gentler. “It matters to you and it matters to Trixie.”
“Trixie’s fine,” he
mumbled, his head bowed in defeat.
“And are you fine?”
Honey inquired, raising her honey-colored brows skeptically.
“I’m fine,” he growled.
“Stinkin’ fine.”
“What about Amanda
and Jack?” she asked. Jim raised his head and hesitantly met her glance. “If
you love Trixie, it isn’t honorable to marry Amanda.”
As Jim opened his
mouth to argue, Honey hushed him with her hand. “And don’t even try to tell me
that you don’t love Trixie,” she continued. “I know better than that. And as
much as I dislike your fiancée, she doesn’t deserve for her husband to be in
love with another woman.
“And Jack sounds like
a really nice guy,” she added. “Please don’t wait until they get engaged to tell Trixie how you feel. Tell her now.”
“I tried to tell
her!” he yelled. “I’ve called her seven times in
“Have you gone to
Jim turned his head
and broke off eye contact. “No.”
“Well, why don’t you
try it?” she suggested.
“No,” he repeated
with a steely glint in his eyes.
“Why
not?” Honey snorted. “It’s easy. Just hop on a plane, drive to her
apartment, knock on her door, and start a conversation.”
“I can’t,” he
carefully enunciated between clenched teeth.
Totally frustrated
with his actions, Honey threw her hands up in exasperation. “What’s the big
deal? Just get off your sorry butt and go
to her!”
Whatever response
Honey expected did not compare to the
one she received. Jim’s face paled as a cold sweat broke out across his
forehead. His chin trembled, and his bloodshot eyes filled with tears.
“I can’t,” he gasped, frantically
clutching his sister’s hands.
Frightened by his
utter desperation, Honey knelt down in front of him. “Why can’t you?”
“If she rejected me,
I couldn’t handle it,” he cried. “I’d rather die than know she doesn’t love me.
I can’t lose anyone else that I love. I just CAN’T…” Rasping sobs shook his
strong shoulders.
He collapsed into
Honey’s arms, weeping tears that had been bottled up for far too long. She
comforted him as best as she could, but knew deep down that her words could
offer no balm to his tortured soul.
Several minutes
later, he pulled away. Months of suffering had taken their toll. His breaking
heart was clearly evident in his broken form.
Honey forced him to
look her in the eyes. “You need to tell her, Jim,” she pleaded urgently. “You
can’t live like this.”
“I don’t want to live
if I can’t be with her,” he lamented. “Life isn’t worth living without Trixie.”
“Then go to her and
talk to her.”
“I can’t! She hates me.
I don’t think I could handle hearing her say it out loud. I’d rather keep my
feelings a secret forever than know there’s never any hope of her loving me in
return.” Jim ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair.
“You don’t know how
she feels until you ask her,” she pointed out.
“If I tell her I love her, what will she say?”
Honey knew she had to
be honest. “I don’t know,” she replied quietly. “If you had told her months
ago, I’m positive she would’ve been thrilled. And she is kind of mad at you. Well, that’s not true. She’s really mad at you. You hurt her badly
when you asked Amanda to marry you.”
Jim hung his head
mournfully. “I never meant to hurt her. I honestly had no idea that she cared
about me. If I had known that, I never
would have proposed to Amanda.”
“You didn’t figure
out that Trixie left because of your engagement?”
“No,” he cried. “I
didn’t have a clue until Bobby told me that she was miserable. Finally, the
light bulb came on, and it was too late for me to do anything.”
“Maybe not,” Honey
said, her previous frustration with him having been replaced by sympathy.
“She loves this Jack
guy,” he scowled. “Mr. Ewan McGregor-James
Bond-wannabe.”
“We don’t know that
for sure,” she admitted.
“I’ve lost her
forever,” he whispered. “What am I going to do, Honey? I can’t live without
her.”
“It’s not too late.
Tell her exactly what you’ve told me,” she advised. “Beg her to forgive you,
and prove how much you love her. And take chocolates. Plenty of chocolates. But please
don’t give up. She might be angry, but I’ll bet that she still loves you.”
Jim pulled away from
his sister and huddled on the couch, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She
doesn’t love me. She couldn’t. Nobody loves me. I’m just a worthless piece of
trash that nobody could ever care about.”
Honey stared at him
in amazement. He suddenly reminded her of a small, frightened child. If he had
not sounded so serious, she would have laughed. “Jim, that’s ridiculous,” she
said, wrapping her arms around him. “Why would you…”
She grew silent as
she rubbed her hands across his back. The thick, ugly scars caused by Jonesy’s studded belt were easily felt through the thin
fabric of his dress shirt. Tears came to her hazel eyes as she realized those
scars passed through his flesh and on into his heart.
“Please go to her
Jim,” she pleaded with a trembling voice. “I know she loved you once. I believe
with all my heart that she loves you now, even if she doesn’t admit it.”
“I’m not worthy of
her love,” he protested.
Honey lifted his chin
so that their eyes met. “Yes, you are. Don’t let that monster win, Jim. Forget
all the hateful venom he ever told you. He took away your mother, your pride,
your safety, your memories... Don’t let him take away Trixie, too.”
Jim closed his eyes
as her words echoed in his mind.
“Take the risk. Sacrifice your
pride and talk to her,” Honey begged. “Trixie once thought you were the most
wonderful boy in the world. Show her that the man you’ve become is even
better.”
“I’d be risking everything!” he
cried.
“Is she worth it?”
Overcome with
emotion, he choked, “Yes.”
“If she says yes, or
if she says no, at least you made an effort. If you love Trixie, you’ll be
willing to risk your very life to be with her. And if you aren’t willing to
take that chance, then Jonesy’s right; you’re not worthy of her love.”
The conversation
ceased, the only noise being the rain as it pattered on the roof overhead. Jim
took several deep, agitated breaths as he digested Honey’s painfully honest
words.
Finally, he pushed her away,
jumped up from his chair, and grabbed his suit jacket. Wordlessly, he raced out
of the family room, put on his shoes, and opened the front door.
After hearing the
slamming of the heavy door, Honey remained in a kneeling position and fervently
prayed that her brother would find the peace that he so desperately sought.
The pouring
rain made travel difficult. The Suburban’s large
wipers could barely clear a path on the windshield before fresh raindrops
obstructed his view.
In his haste to reach his destination,
Jim had left his overcoat in the closet. Though the trip from the Manor House
to his vehicle was brief, it provided plenty of time to get soaked from the
downpour. He shivered from the cold, his drenched suit providing no warmth from
the chilly weather. Though the Suburban had an excellent heater, in his rattled
condition, he didn’t even think about switching it to the “on” position.
He drove for hours
until he reached his destination. Pulling into a familiar spot, he parked the
Suburban and stepped out into the freezing rain. Ignoring the icy drops hitting
his face, he trudged to the home of the only one who could help him.
Before any
salutations could be offered, Jim immediately began his speech. “Don’t say
anything until I’m finished. I have to get this off my chest. I need your help.
I don’t have anywhere else to turn. I need some advice.
“I’ve made a mess of everything,
and I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m alone. I’m confused.
And I’m scared…”
With a trembling
hand, Jim wiped away a mixture of cold rain and warm tears from his face. After
taking several deep breaths, he continued. “I asked Amanda to marry me. She
loves me, and I needed to be loved,” he admitted softly. “I thought if I tried
really hard, I could be happy with her, but I can’t. You can’t force yourself
to love someone. She’s pushing me to set a wedding date, but I can’t marry her.
I don’t love her.
“It wouldn’t be right to marry her
when I spend every waking minute of every single day, thinking about someone
else.
“I love Trixie,” he
said, his voice shaking. “I love her so much it hurts. If I had told her
sooner, none of this would’ve happened. But I was afraid. Afraid she’d tell me
she didn’t love me. Afraid I’d lose the person I love most.”
The tears began as he
continued. “Now she hates me. She thought I didn’t love her, and she left. And
I didn’t stop her. I just let her go…”
Jim collapsed to the
wet ground, mud soaking into the knees of his pants. His tears became desperate
sobs as he continued his story. He wept, knowing the one he talked to could not
give him solace.
“I should’ve stopped
her,” he wailed inconsolably. “But I didn’t, and now she hates me for it. And I
deserve it! Dear God, I deserve for her to hate me and never speak to me again.
I hurt her, and I didn’t even know it. The only thing worse than my broken
heart is knowing that hers is broken, too. And now she
hates me…
“I thought I could be satisfied
just clutching her memory in my heart, but I can’t… I can’t…
“I need her… I’d rather
be beaten to death by Jonesy, than face another day
without her smile. I just can’t survive without my sunshine,” he lamented, his
body violently trembling. “The wounds from my broken heart hurt so much worse
than the ones from that studded belt…”
“What do I do?” he
cried, clutching the ground under his knees. He raised his head, the stinging
pain of the precipitation not dulling his emotional suffering. “What do I do?!” His anguished howl
echoed through the foggy night sky.
Jim buried his head
in his hands and sobbed. The heaviness in his heart made even breathing
difficult. As his lungs heaved and fought for oxygen, a memory, long ago
forgotten, came to his mind. He closed his eyes, knowing the answer would be
found in that recollection.
Five-year-old
Jimmy sat on the stool by the bathroom sink. He watched as his father lathered
his face with shaving cream. “Whatcha
doin’, Daddy?”
“Shaving,” Win replied with a smile.
“What’s shavin’?”
“Daddy’s taking the prickly whiskers off
of his face,” Win patiently explained.
“What’s it feel like, Daddy? Does it
hurt?”
After running the razor down a strip of
his cheek, Win answered, “It doesn’t hurt, little man. Do you want to try it?”
The young boy nodded his head up and
down, his emerald eyes shining. “Can I, Daddy?”
“You can. Bring your stool beside me,
Jimmy.” Win watched in amusement as his tiny son dragged the heavy stool in
front of the sink. Once satisfied with its position, the little boy climbed on
top and stood proudly by his father.
“What do I do now, Daddy?”
Win picked up the can of shaving cream.
“Hold out your hand.” Jimmy obediently did as his father asked and held out his
small, freckled hands. His father squirted a small amount of the cold substance
into the palm of his hand.
“Now rub it on your cheeks,” Win
patiently instructed. Jimmy hesitantly looked at the shaving cream in his hand.
With a nervous giggle, he spread it all over his freckled face.
“Good job,” Win exclaimed with a grin,
amused by the shaving cream in his son’s eyebrows. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out
a razor that was missing its blade. Before handing it to his son, he explained
firmly, “Now, this is important, little man. Never do this unless Daddy helps you.
If you use the wrong razor, you could hurt yourself.”
“I won’t, Daddy,” Jimmy promised, his green eyes wide. Though Jimmy was only a
little boy, he always tried to keep
his word. He loved his daddy, and didn’t want to make him mad.
Win handed the razor to his son. “Watch
me, son, and I’ll show you what to do.” He slowly ran his razor down his
stubbly cheek. Once the razor completed its path, Win dipped it in the sink and
gently swished it around in the warm water. “Now you try it, little man.”
Jimmy nearly shook from excitement. He
leaned closer to the mirror and nervously ran the razor down his chubby cheek.
He gasped in amazement as the lather slid off into the sink below. Imitating
what his father had done earlier, he dipped the razor
in the water and vigorously swished it around.
He looked up in delight. “Did ya see me, Daddy? I did it!”
“You sure did! Good job, Jimmy boy!” Win
returned to his task, and stroke by stroke, the lather disappeared.
Jimmy carefully watched his father and
mimicked his every move. “Why do Daddies shave?”
“So their faces will be nice and
smooth.”
“Why do Daddies’ faces need to be nice
and smooth?” Jimmy asked, his ginger brows drawn in confusion.
“So Mommies will kiss them,” Win
answered with a wink.
Jimmy stuck out his tongue and scrunched
up his face. “Yech! Kissin’s
gross! When I’m a big man, I’m gonna let my whiskers
grow reeeeally long so no girl will wanna kiss me.”
Win chuckled. “Someday you won’t think ‘kissin’s gross’, little man. Someday, when you fall in
love, you’ll want to kiss a whole bunch.”
“I doubt it,” Jimmy replied earnestly.
“The only girl I’m kissin’ is Mommy.”
“Me too!” Win
declared solemnly, stifling his urge to laugh.
Jimmy stared silently into the mirror,
deep in thought. The little boy suddenly dropped his head, a guilty expression
on his face. “Daddy, I did somethin’ real bad.”
Win laid down his razor, and looked down
at his boy. “What did you do, son?” he asked gently.
“Mommy told me not to go outside today
when it was rainin’,” Jimmy explained as big tears
threatened to fall. “But I promised Blackie that I’d bring him an apple after
lunch, and I couldn’t break my
promise.”
“Did you disobey your mother, Jim?”
Win’s voice was stern, but even.
Jimmy nodded sadly. “She got real mad at
me, too. I don’t wanna make Mommy mad. I love her
bunches and bunches.”
Win smiled and ruffled his son’s red
hair. “I know you do, son.”
“Do you
ever make Mommy mad?” Jimmy stared up at his father hopefully.
“Occasionally,” his father answered with
a chuckle.
“What do ya do
to make Mommy happy again?” Jimmy questioned curiously.
“I sing to her,” Win told him with a
grin. “Mommy likes it when I serenade her.”
“What’s ser-uh-nade
mean?”
With an impish, lopsided grin, Win picked
up his razor and pretended it was a microphone. He held it close to his mouth
and sang,
“I know you wanna
leave me
But I refuse to let you go
If I have to beg, plead for your sympathy
I don’t mind ‘cause
you mean that much to me.
Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darling
Please don’t leave me girl, don’t you go
Ain’t too proud to ple-ead,
baby, baby
Please don’t leave me girl, don’t you go.”
Jimmy giggled as his father finished the
song. When the “ser-uh-nade” was over, he inquired,
“Does that work, Daddy? Does it make Mommy happy again?”
“It sure does,” Win nodded. “You know
Jimmy, sometimes married people get angry with one another. Sometimes they say
things they don’t mean, or do something they didn’t mean to do. But that
doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. When I tell Mommy I’m sorry, she
forgives me, because she loves me just as much as I love her.”
His father resumed his shaving. For several
moments, Jimmy quietly watched, but finally he looked at his father and asked,
“Daddy, why did ya
marry Mommy?”
“Because I loved her with all my heart,”
Win answered, smiling as he thought of his beautiful Katje.
“Do ya still love her with all yer heart?”
“I do. I love Mommy even more now than I
did when we first got married.”
“When ya asked
her to marry ya, did ya know she was gonna
say yes?” Jimmy asked inquisitively.
“I didn’t know for sure,” Win replied
honestly. “I hoped she would, but I
wasn’t positive.
The little boy scratched his chin
thoughtfully. “If ya didn’t know she’d say yes, why’d
ya ask her?”
“Because I knew I couldn’t live without
her,” Win explained, emotion causing his strong voice to tremble. “When you
love someone, you’ll do anything to be with them, even beg.”
Jimmy stared in wonder at the tears
filling his daddy’s eyes. He reached out a small freckled hand and placed it
upon his father’s strong shoulder. “Are ya okay,
Daddy?”
Win turned to his son, and placed a
loving hand on top of his head. “I’m fine, little man. Sometimes when you love
someone like I love Mommy, you cry. Not because you’re sad, but because you
love them so much.”
“If I ever get a Mommy of my own to
marry, I’m gonna love her just like you love our Mommy,” Jimmy vowed
solemnly.
“If you find someone that you love as
much as I love Mommy, hold onto her,” Win advised tenderly. “Do anything you
have to do to win her love, even if you have to beg. Any sacrifice you make
will be worth it when you hold her in your arms. Remember that, little man.
Remember…”
Jim trembled as the
memory drew to a close. He opened his eyes. He noticed that the pouring rain
had finally slowed down to a gentle patter.
With a new resolve,
he stood to his feet. He reverently crept closer to the resting spot of the one
whose advice he had sought. He knelt once more and ran a loving hand over the
marbled headstone.
“Thanks, Dad,” he
whispered. “I knew you could help.”
Jim stood to his feet and
attempted to brush the caked mud off of his suit pants. “Sacrifice your pride,”
he said quietly recalling Honey’s words. Then he repeated his father’s
instruction. “Any sacrifice you make will be worth it when you hold her in your
arms.”
He ran to the Suburban, wildly
flinging open the driver’s side door. Barely inside, he started the engine and
fishtailed out of the muddy cemetery.
A plan formed in his mind as he
raced down the highway. Growing more determined with each passing minute, he
repeated, “Sacrifice your pride…”
|
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Thank you first of all to
my editors, Kaye and Kathy, for all your help and encouragement. I ALWAYS thank
them first, ‘cause I ‘dore ‘em
so much! They were a huge help with this story. Thank you both for your color
suggestions, as well as the “annoying rules of fashion” discussion we had. I
used somebody’s “no black after Easter gripe.” J I love you both! I thank the Lord every day
for such grand friends!
Prada, Armani, and Gucci make very nice clothes that I can’t afford, but
wish I could. And hey, if Vanessa wants to mix her designers, that’s fine with
me.
Vera Wang is a famous
designer and she does a lot of wedding gowns for famous people. So don’t sue
me, Vera. This is good advertising. Jennifer Lopez may hire you to design that
fourth wedding gown when the time comes… *duck*
I have no idea if the
“shade darker” would actually “symbolize their advanced wisdom and maturity”,
but I thought that sounded like a load of crap that would be done at a
hoity-toity wedding. *G*
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