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“No, we haven’t. We’ll have to remedy that,” I tell her, though I do love being home with her. After spending my days at the shop, relaxing at home is nice, but I’m good with whatever Marian wants.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I like being at home.” She leans forward to whisper, but her voice is louder when she speaks. Her volume control buttons are messed up. “I especially like what we do when we’re at home.”
The bartender turns away with a discreet laugh.
“Keep your voice down unless you want the whole bar to know how hot you make me.”
She places her hand on my thigh. “That’s given me an idea. Let’s go home, my love.”
That’s the second time that Marian has used the word ‘love.’ I hope she means it. She teeters on her feet, and I slip an arm around her waist to steady her.
“Tell me what you’ll do to me when we get home,” Marian says as we walk to the parking lot.
“I’ll undress you,” I say. “One item after another.”
“Oh, I like,” she says.
“And help you to bed. You’re not in any state to do anything, my Marian.”
“Don’t be a party pooper,” she pouts. “Tonight is a night for having fun.”
“Sure.” I take her handbag and fish out the keys.
When we’re inside, Marian says to me “Tell me something, have you ever been to see a shrink?”
“No. Have you?”
She nods. “Yes.”
She doesn’t offer any more information, and I don’t ask. I know that people go to see therapists for a variety of reasons. Take my brother, Ace. He saw a therapist for the longest time because of his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He saw an awesome therapist who helped him, and now he rarely gets flashbacks and nightmares.
As I’d suspected, Marian falls asleep five minutes into the drive home. She looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping. I hope that everything’s okay with her. The last couple of days, she looked wound up with tension.
I didn’t want to intrude by asking her what the matter was. I figured that if she wants to tell me, she will. That’s how I operated with my previous girlfriends. I give people space to work out their issues.
Of course, I wish she would confide in me, and I hope that she feels comfortable enough one day. When we get home, I carry her easily from the car to the house.
I keep my promise and undress her one item after another, except that she’s completely out of it to see.
Chapter 36
Marian
Though it’s been a good week, I’m glad that it’s Friday. No, let me rephrase that, I’m glad it’s Friday, but I’ll be happy when the day is over. I worked up the courage to call Mrs. Carter yesterday, and lo and behold, she agreed to meet me for lunch. Better yet, she’s going to be in LA today, so I don’t have to drive to Santa Monica. Not that I would have minded terribly. It’s grown on me, and it would have been a chance to pop in and see Declan as he went there this morning.
Just thinking of Declan makes me smile. If I had any doubts about him, they are slowly ebbing away. I’ve also had another session with Dr. Frost this week, and it was another eye-opener. I’m learning things about myself that are shocking but enlightening me.
The phone on my desk shrills, bringing me back to the present. I pick it up and smile when I hear the voice of one of my new clients, Jane. She’s sweet and soft-spoken, and so far, she’s made everything fun and easy. Two weeks into working together and we’ve already settled on a venue and agreed on the décor and other small but important details.
“What can I do for you, my dear?” I ask her after we’ve exchanged pleasantries.
She lets out a nervous laugh. “You’re going to think we’re the weirdest couple,” she begins. “We need a little help with something. I have five bridesmaids, right? That means Bob needs five groomsmen?”
“That would be ideal, yes,” I say, unsure where the conversation is headed.
“Well, Bob has no groomsmen,” she says.
“Oh,” I say. I’ve never come across such a situation in all my years of working as a wedding planner.
“So, we were wondering, can you help us?” she says. “Find groomsmen, that is.”
“Sure,” I say defaulting to my automatic response when I’m asked for help.
It helps also that Jane and Bob are such a sweet couple. I want to make sure that their wedding is a success. “I’ll get back to you on this. Don’t worry; everything will be fine. We’ll think of something.”
She lets out a sigh of relief and gushes her gratitude.
After I disconnect the phone, beads of sweat form on my forehead. Why do you do this to yourself? But I love a challenge.
