But it was too late. The link was lost and they were forced to make repairs.
It took a few minutes then before they were back in bed, snuggled up against three stacked pillows, covered by the smooth sheets with Tess tucked comfortably under Kenny’s arm and one knee pulled up over his thighs. Behind her shoulder he unwrapped the last piece of chocolate, gave her the first bite, then popped the rest into his mouth.
“All right,” he said, tossing the foil ball onto the nightstand, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I’m asking about your former sex life. How many before me?”
“Do I have to tell?”
“No.”
She peered up at him, surprised by his answer.
“Four.”
“Four!”
“All before I was twenty-eight. That’s the year I hit it really big and realized I had to be more cautious. Fame works against you in that way. You never know what men are after. It gets … very lonely.”
“Were any of them serious?”
“No.”
“What about this musician you were seeing lately?”
“No. The truth is, he tried, but that was after I’d been back home and seen how good you were to Momma and sung in your choir and rolled around with you in the backyard and you made other men seem icky.”
“Icky?” He grinned at her choice of words. “I did that?” He pulled his chin back to look down, but could see only the top of her head.
“Absolutely.”
“So are you saying you’ve never been in love before?”
“I didn’t have time to fall in love. I had places to go, things to accomplish. And then I accomplished them and …” She absently rubbed his chest before continuing thoughtfully. “It’s a funny thing … I used to think my life was so full without this, without you, and I never knew how I was fooling myself. I thought I had it all … till now.”
The chocolate was gone from their tongues. They lay for a while in the smug afterglow of first love, feeling lucky, and sated, and very reluctant to part, come Sunday. They had tomorrow to spend together, then her concert tomorrow night, but after that he’d have to go back to Wintergreen, and she’d have to go back to Nashville. And what then? A long-distance affair?
Kenny brought it up first, what they’d both been thinking of.
“How do you think it would work if we got married?”
She reacted without the least surprise, remaining where she was, nestled against him as if this were not the most important conversation each of them had ever had.
“I don’t know, but I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
“That’s all I’ve been thinking about, but there’s a lot to work out.”
“Where would we live?” she asked.
“In Nashville.”
“And in Wintergreen?”
“What do you mean? We can’t live in both places.”
“Why not? We can afford it.”
“I never thought of keeping both places.”
“We could if Casey wanted us to. For a while anyway, until she got used to the idea of her childhood home being sold out from under her. We have to be careful about that.”
“Yes, I suppose we do.”
“We could use your house whenever we went back home to visit Momma. But what about your business?” she inquired.
“I’d sell it and take care of yours for you.”
“You would?” This surprised her. She drew back and stared at him.
“It struck me one day when we were talking on the phone and you said how many things you have to keep tabs on, and how risky it is for you to delegate the money matters. I thought—hey, I could do that for her! I’m a natural, Tess. I’m a certified public accountant. Who better to see after your financial affairs?”
She sat up and looked at him in rank amazement. “You mean you’d do that? You’d actually give up your business to marry me?”
“Why, of course I would.”
“And you’d move to Nashville? Without batting an eye?”
“Of course I would.”
“Wouldn’t you worry about being called a kept man?”
He burst out laughing and hauled her down where she’d been. “No offense, Tess, but that is one of the stupidest questions I’ve ever heard. I know how much work there’d be, and believe me I’d be anything but kept. I’d probably end up putting in more hours than I do now, judging from what I know about your success.”
“You have spent some time mulling this over, haven’t you?”
“Think about it—everything I do all day long is something you pay somebody else to do. Why shouldn’t I be doing it for you and making your life easier?”
She did think about it. It sounded too good to be true.
“Boy, wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could just hand over all the business management to you and I could just concentrate on the creative end?”
“I could take care of your taxes, your payroll, your accounts payable, your incoming royalties. I could handle your employees’ retirement funds and their insurance, and all the financial arrangements involved in running a production the size of your show. Who does all that for you now?”
“A bookkeeper named Sue.”
“Sue, huh?” They both thought about firing Sue; then he said, “She could show me your computer system, get me started. Would there be enough work to keep two of us busy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
It was a minor hitch and they knew it. He rubbed her arm and assured her quietly, “You could trust me, Tess.”
“Oh, heavens, I’ve known that since you counted out Momma’s change the night you brought her softener salt in. You gave her every last penny.” The mention of her mother brought another thought. “Boy, Momma would sure miss you if you moved away from Wintergreen.”
“We’d go back to see her often though. More often than you have without me. I’d make you.”
She chuckled, and said, “I know you would. And it’d be good for me, too. I need to see Momma more often.”
They imagined it for a while and it began to seem entirely feasible.
“What about Casey?” she asked. “Would you want her to keep living with us?”
“I don’t know. What would you want?”
She gave it some thought, and remarked, “I sure love that girl.”
He kissed the top of her head, and his tired eyes closed. “I know. That’s what started this whole thing, isn’t it? And that’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
“But I’ll confess to you that I don’t want to have any kids of my own. My career is too important to me.”
“Then Casey can be your kid. It’s perfect.” He yawned.
She imagined Casey as her kid and loved the idea. “I think I would want her to live with us for a while. I’m not tired of her yet.”
He chuckled and rubbed his cheek against her hair. It was dry now and curled up like Little Orphan Annie’s. He yawned again and her voice began fading away as she went on talking.
“I want you to see my house, Kenny. It’s really beautiful. It’s two stories with this fantastic overhanging balcony and a grand piano in this immense front window.”
“Mmm …” he mumbled.
“I have an office there, and Casey has her own bedroom, and our bedroom overlooks the pool.”
Our bedroom, he repeated to himself, while from the wispy world of semiconsciousness, he smiled.
“When can you come and see it, Kenny?” Tess said, and getting no answer, “Hey, Kenny?” Drawing back, she discovered he’d drifted off to sleep. She smiled and studied his face in repose, loving what she saw, imagining that face on the other pillow for the rest of her life, knowing it was exactly what she wanted.
“Kenny,” she said again, simply to speak his name one more time before spending the night beside him. “I love you.”
She reached across him and turned out the light, then dragged the extra pillows from be
hind him and threw one on the floor. He roused slightly as she wriggled down into a comfortable curl at his side and turned her backside against him. Mumbling something unintelligible, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his warm curve.
She smiled, closed her eyes and thought, Now I have everything.
At daybreak she awakened right where she’d fallen asleep, snuggled in the Z of his body. It was an exquisite place to be, and she closed her eyes and waited for a sign that he was waking up.
When he wiggled, she rolled over to face him and snuggled her kneecaps smack up against his stomach with her feet hooked over his knees.
“Hi,” she whispered, and he opened one eye.
“Hi,” he said in a voice like a galvanized bucket dragging on concrete.
“Still respect me?”
He closed the eye. “Uh-huh.”
“Still wanna marry me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Still wanna keep my books?”
“Not right at this moment.”
She giggled and kissed his chin. His eyes remained closed. She poked a finger into his mouth, and said, “Let’s call room service and order breakfast for four, then tell Momma and Casey to get up here and tell them what we’re going to do.”
Biting her nail, still with his eyes closed, he said, “Mmkay. But do I have to put up with this intrusive behavior every morning?” The words came out muffled before he spit out her finger.
“Nope,” she said. “Some mornings I’ll be gone, singing in some faraway city—who knows? Could be as far away as China maybe—then you’ll be so lonesome you’ll wish I was there to pester you.”
He smiled and pushed her knees down and rolled over on top of her. “Darlin’,” he said, stretching out full-length, fitting his fingers between hers and burying her hands in the pillow, “you can pester me anywhere, anyway, anytime.”
She took him at his word, then and there.
Afterward, they did exactly what she’d suggested, calling the two people they loved most and inviting them up to breakfast in Tess’s suite, then they showered and dressed and tried to contain their excitement about telling Casey and Mary.
At precisely ten, the doorbell rang and Kenny answered.
“Room service, sir.” A white-coated waiter rolled the table up to the sofa, lifted its drop leaves, and pulled four side chairs up to it.
“Would you like me to open the champagne, sir?”
“Yes, please.”
The young Asian man wrapped a white napkin around the bottle of A. Charbaut et Fils and popped the cork. “Shall I pour, sir?”
“No, thank you. We’ll wait till our guests arrive.” The waiter put the bottle back into the footed silver wine cooler and Kenny saw him out. When he opened the door he found Mary and Casey just ready to ring the bell.
“Heyyyy … good morning!” he greeted them jovially, kissing their cheeks as they came inside. “How did everybody sleep?”
Casey gave him a curious glance. “Gee, you’re in a good mood this morning.”
“You bet,” he said, clapping his hands once and shutting the door.
More greetings and kisses were exchanged with Tess while they got Mary seated on the sofa.
Casey eyed the ice bucket. “Champagne? At ten o’clock in the morning? What’s the occasion?”
“Sit down, honey,” Kenny said. “Tess?” He pulled out a chair for her, then seated himself.
Casey eyed them both suspiciously while Mary lifted silver lids and sniffed the food.
“What’s this? It looks good.”
“A ham-and-cheese omelette,” Tess answered, hoping she’d guessed right, for Kenny had placed the order.
“Who’s for champagne?” he said, pulling the green bottle out of the ice.
“Not me,” Casey said. “I can’t stand the stuff.”
“None for me, either. Gets me goofy,” Mary said. “I’ll have some coffee, though.”
Kenny began filling everyone’s cups and Casey watched him curiously as he came to hers. “Dad, what’s the matter with you? You know I don’t drink coffee.”
“Oh!” He stopped pouring and set the silver pot down. “Well … then drink your orange juice, because Tess and I want to make a toast.” He sat down and caught Tess’s eye, giving her the go-ahead.
She lifted her flute. “Momma … Casey …” Another flute, a stem glass and a coffee cup joined it. “The toast is to all of us, and to our future happiness. We called you down here to tell you that Kenny and I are going to get married.”
Mary looked stunned, as if she’d drop her cup.
Casey exclaimed, “I knew it!”
“How did you know it?” Kenny said.
“Well, you’ve still got your tuxedo pants on, Dad,” she said, leaping to her feet to hug him.
“Oh … so I do.”
“It’s obvious you didn’t spend much time in your room last night. Oh … sorry, Mary.”
“Married?” Mary interjected belatedly. “But … but when did all this happen? I thought you two … oh, my … oh, gracious …” She started crying.
“Momma, what’s wrong?”
“N-nothing. I’m just so happy.” She covered her nose with a linen napkin. “You’re really going to marry Kenny?”
“Yes, I am.” Tess touched her mother’s hand tenderly while the old woman stuck a stiff napkin under her glasses and dabbed at her eyes. Then the two shared an awkward hug across the corner of the table.
“Oh, my gracious me, this is too much.”
Next, Casey threw a hug on Tess, and both of them felt tears gathering in their throats. “You guys …” she said, growing emotional, “you sure know how to make a girl happy.” When the emotional level got critical, she cracked a joke. “Does this mean I have to call you Mother, Mac?”
“Mother Mac? Oh, please, no.” They all laughed, because there were tears in a lot of eyes.
Then Mary said, “Kenny, come here,” and put her arms up. He left his chair and went to hers, leaned down into her embrace and felt her loving arms fold around him as he dropped to one knee. “Oh, Kenny,” she whispered, but could say no more. She could only feel her tears roll over her downy cheeks as he held her.
“I love her very much,” he whispered, “nearly as much as I love you.” He pulled back and looked up at her, squeezing her hands hard.
“It’s just so unbelievable.”
“It is … I know.”
Mary freed one of her hands to take one of Tess’s. “You and Kenny,” she said.
“But the hard part is, Momma, I have to take him away from you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” Finding her spunk, Mary released their hands and flapped her napkin impatiently. “I can get along just fine without him. I’ve got two sons-in-law and those big, strapping grandsons. They can help me when I need it.”
“But you’ll miss him.”
“Well, of course I will. But—oh, my—how happy you’ve made me.”
Suddenly Casey had a thought. “Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “You’ll be my grandma, Mary!”
“Well, now, that’s a job I’ll like!”
It took a while before they got around to eating breakfast. Who could eat breakfast with happiness like this chasing everything mundane from the mind? But finally somebody realized the food was getting cold, and they removed the lids and were two minutes into the meal when Casey stopped, and said it for all of them.
“Hey, you know what? This is going to be absolutely perfect—I mean, all four of us as a family. It’s like it was meant to be.”
It certainly was, their smiles all said.
Meant to be.
They were married less than two months later in the church where she had sung in his choir. The wedding was scheduled for one o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, because the church was booked for all the weekend days that month, and so was the bride. She had sung in Vancouver the previous weekend, and would be singing in Shreveport the next.
But
on this day—a hot, late-summer, high-sky day with the temperatures in the nineties and the cicadas singing in the backyards—she would belong not to her fans, but only to her man.
One hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, Mary was in her kitchen, all dressed, when she heard Tess and Renee coming down the stairs. She’d been listening to the two of them talking and laughing and traipsing through the house most of the morning. Now here they came, ready at last.
“Well, Momma, here I am,” Tess announced from the doorway.
The old woman turned and put a hand to her mouth.
“Oh, land … oh, me … I think this is the happiest day of my life. I believe I’m happier today than I was the day of my own wedding.”
“Don’t you go cryin’ now, Momma, not after Renee and I got your makeup all pretty.”
Mary got control of herself and made a stirring motion. “Turn around. Let me see.”
Tess turned a full circle, showing off her bridal dress. It was very simple, made of white linen, with cap sleeves, a square neck, and a stovepipe skirt whose hem was created by points of open cutwork that overhung her ankles by three inches. On her feet she wore white linen pumps, on her head, instead of a veil, a circlet of baby’s breath with her hair pulled up high inside it. Her only jewelry was a tiny pair of sapphire ear studs matching the ring Kenny had given her: an emerald-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Renee said, leaning against the doorway.
“Lord o’ mercy,” Mary said.
The bride was definitely the prettiest thing in that kitchen, which hadn’t changed a whit. The same ugly wall clock pointed to the hour. The same curled-up plastic doily sat on the same old-fashioned table. The same wounded Formica bled white up through a thousand scratch marks.
But the house was a cool seventy-two degrees, because Tess had said, “Momma, if you want me to get married at First Methodist you’re going to have to let me put air-conditioning in that house, ‘cause if you think I’m getting dressed in that attic in the middle of summer, you’re wrong. I’ll melt like an ice cream cone and you’ll have to pour me into that church!”
So Mary had called Clarence Spillforth down at the plumbing and heating store, and said, “Clarence, I want you to come up here and put me some air-conditioning into my house because my girl Tess is gonna get married here. She’s marrying Kenny Kronek, you know, and he’s moving to Nashville to take care of her business for her, and his daughter, Casey? Well, she’s been singing on Tess’s rec ords, don’t you know. So, Clarence, when can you be here?”