66 - Tell Me A Secret

“Well.  You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

Grinning at Marilee, Delaney strolled in the shop’s back door at ten o’clock dressed her good jeans and a blouse instead of a t-shirt.  She was even wearing make-up with her upswept hair, because today was the first day of the rest of her life.  There was peace in her patchwork soul for the first time in years.

“Thanks.  I feel a lot better, too.” 

“Well, that’s going to be short-lived,” was the sarcastic response as Marilee closed the hatch on the Keurig and started her coffee brewing.  “Your sister is on a tear this morning.  Something about watches and phones.  I believe her broom is scheduled to land here shortly.”

Even Petra in a snit couldn’t ruin her mood today, and Delaney laughed as she hung the van keys on their hook and grabbed an apron.  Thanks to Jon, she was running behind this morning.  There were at least a dozen prom bouquets that needed jewels added, and she pulled the rack of them from the cooler.    

“Pearl turned my phone off last night when we were out.  Guess I never turned it back on.”

“Isn’t that the story of your fucking life?”

“Flight 666 has arrived on schedule.”

Delaney thought Marilee’s low murmur was hilarious, but Petra dumped her purse on the design table and cut a glare at the woman who was taking flavored creamer from the fridge.  “Oh, please.  Like she hasn’t pissed you off a dozen times by not answering her phone.”

“No denying that.  Me and Jon Bon Jovi both, since he called here last night asking if you’d left it.”  Lazily shaking the container, she posed the question Delaney had been waiting for.  “Are we still pissed at him?  Did you find out the deal with him and Katya?”

“Yes, Delaney.  What’s the deal with him and Katya?  Or him and you?  Or you, for that fucking matter?  Pearl cut me off after the text of the guy’s hand on your ass.  Are you okay?  I mean, I assume you are since you’re not dressed in rags and actually have on makeup, but humor me with an answer.”

She owed Pearl big time for not sharing the scene at the cemetery.  She loved her sister and would eventually reveal all, but Delaney couldn’t have handled her last night.  Had Petra known about the crying jag, she would’ve ditched dinner at the mayor’s house and banged on the door before Jon had the chance. 

“It’s not my fault you had social obligations and couldn’t come, Petra.  Save your snark.”  Putting the glue gun and container of sparkles on the counter, she spoke directly to Marilee.  “I’m fine, and there is no deal with him and Katya.  He recognized her from the shop and played nice because of that.  None of what she said came from him.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t mind being bashed for her ditziness, but having her judgment and Jon’s morality questioned was a different story, and Delaney pursed her mouth at the blatant distrust of both. 

“Yes, Petra.  I’m sure.  He didn’t even know her freeping name.”

With wide, innocent eyes and hands lifted in self-defense.  “Hey.  I like Jon.  I want him to be what every woman dreams him to be, but come on.  The man has publicly admitted that he’s not a saint.  I’m still betting that adultery is the reason behind his divorce, even though you won’t trust your own sister enough to confirm it.”

“Because it’s none of your business,” she flatly stated and plugged in the glue gun.

“He told you.”

“He’s my boyfriend, for crying out loud!  It entitles me to know things you don’t.”

“Okay, now all that does is make me curious about what else you know.”

Rolling her eyes, she chose the stones for the first bouquet.  “I’d expect that of Pet, but not you, Marilee.”

“I like celebrity gossip as much as anybody,” the shop manager justified with a light shrug before going to back to stirring her coffee. 

Petra dusted off a spot on the table and hopped up to swing crossed ankles and observe, “See?  Marilee wants to know, too.  Tell us something good, Laney.”

There were so many good things to tell, but Delaney liked having them to herself.  She didn’t want to share him.  Not his sweetness, the surprising jealousy, his botched attempts at speaking Greek.  Those belonged to her. 

Dotting a drop of glue in the center of a lemonade rose, she set a crystal on top of it and confessed the only thing she wanted them to know. 

“You were right, Petra.”

“Oooh!  My favorite words.”  Manicured hands clapped together with impatience.  “What was I right about this time?  The adultery thing!”

“Not about that,” she huffed, setting another stone, this time in a cream rose.  “He looked into my eyes and said the same thing Papa said to Ma.”

“What did Papa say to Ma?” Marilee demanded over her Petra’s drawn breath.

She shot an apologetic look at her friend for forgetting she wasn’t part of that conversation.  “’I see your soul, and it’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw’.  That’s what he said.  Except we were kind of arguing before, and it came out a lot more heart-stopping when he said it.”

“Well, give me the damn instant replay, for Christ’s sake.  This sounds significant!”

Grinning at the woman with the perpetual reading glasses, Delaney admitted, “It was and it wasn’t, mostly because I didn’t believe him.  We were having a disagreement.  I was upset over something that had nothing to do with him and wanted to have sex.  He didn’t think sex was the answer to the problem, so he grabbed me by the chin and told me to ask him what he saw.  When I finally got un-stubborn enough to ask, he barked ‘I see your soul’ at me before going all soft and quiet.  ‘Your soul, Mou.  I see it plain as day, and it’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw.’”

“Daaamn.  How the hell do you not believe it?  Because he’s a slick rock star?”

Accusatory eyes slid to the room’s other occupant before returning to set another stone.  “Because Petra told him about our parents discovering they were soulmates the evening before, right down to that exact phrase and how much I’d wanted one of my own.”

“Well, you did.  Do.  What was wrong with suggesting it might be him?  And why the hell don’t I know he said that until a fucking week later?”

“Because I didn’t quite believe him,” she repeated, finishing the first bouquet and picking out aquamarine jewels for the next.  They didn’t need to know all the nitty gritty.  “Thought it wasn’t possible and all that.  Until this morning, when he woke up.  I looked into unguarded, sleepy eyes and just… believed.  This is real.  As crazy as it sounds, Jon’s my soulmate.  He even tried to say it in Greek.”

Her lips curved at the sweet memory as she began attaching bling to calla lilies. 

In true Jon fashion, it wasn’t ten minutes later that he declared a hotel wasted money and decided he should just move in with her until the apartment was ready.  They were probably going to be sleeping together every night, anyway.   

True or not, it should’ve incited a freak out or heated discussion, but she had so genuinely accepted the blessing she’d been given that Delaney simply shrugged and said okay.  He’d gotten the spare key an hour ago, and in return, given her a goodbye kiss along with the promise of dinner out tonight.

They were living together, albeit temporarily.

“When’s the wedding?”

The glue gun fell from Delaney’s lax fingers, burning her in the instant before it clattered on the tabletop.  “Freep!”  Shaking her hand vigorously to cool off the melted flesh, she incredulously asked her sister, “What do you mean wedding?  He’s still freeping married, according to the state of New York.  There’s no wedding.”

Cool gray irises held no concern as Petra insisted, “If you’re soulmates, then marriage is the next logical step.  You’re not a free-love hippie, for God’s sake, and can you imagine planning a wedding with the money he has?  Heaven.”

The flip of Delaney’s stomach made her grimace.  She absolutely could not imagine planning a wedding with his money.  His money was his, and it intimidated the jeepers out of her.  No helicopters, no fancy weddings, no cars, houses or any of that.  Just Jon in her dinky apartment would be fine.

“In this situation, yeah.  I’m a free-love hippie.  He’s staying with me until Avery turns over the keys and I get the furniture delivered.  After that, we’ll watch TV and sleep wherever we happen to land that night.   No rings.  No license.”

Perfectly glossed lips frowned with disapproval at the hands that were reclaiming the glue gun and finding another aquamarine.  “You cannot wear all those cheap rings if he gets you a diamond, Laney.  It’ll probably come from Tiffany or Harry Winston.  One does not wear swap meet rings next to a Harry Winston.”

Flipping up her left thumb in a move that mimicked a Jersey salute, Delaney demanded, “Do you see that, Petra?  That swap meet ring with the forget-me-nots?  That is the ring he got me, and I’m very happy with it, so bite me.  No diamonds.  No wedding.”

“If the man is your soulmate, he isn’t going to treat you like a cheap mistress.  You’re getting married.”

Pointing the glue gun at her sister with a harsh scowl, she pulled the trigger.  “Kiss my aspic.”

“Okay, girls.”  Marilee had been so quiet that Delaney almost forgot she was in the room, but now she inserted herself between the two sisters.  “This is wildly entertaining, and while I’m delighted that you’ve found true love, I have more immediate concerns than diamonds and betrothals.  Does Mr. Soulmate know you have a date tomorrow?”

She wrinkled her nose and went back to bedazzling bouquets.  “No.  Not yet.”

There hadn’t been time.  Between the sex and the confessions this morning, she was already running late enough as it was.  Opening the can of Hugo worms probably would’ve only taken a hot second, but considering how Jon had reacted to the paramedic’s attempts to contact her…  Delaney just hadn’t wanted to take the chance. 

She planned to tell him tonight. 

“Date?  Who the hell do you have a date with?  And why would you cheat on Jon Bon fucking Jovi?  Are you stupid?”

“The paramedic.  Hugo.”

Sighing at Marilee’s helpfulness, she added, “The guy just happened to call right as I found out about the Katya thing, so I might’ve been feeling just a tiny bit spiteful when I agreed to have coffee with him.”

“Jesus Christ.”  Petra groaned, sliding from the table with a roll of her eyes.  “You’ve got the golden goose for a soulmate and you’re going to fuck it up over some psycho stalker?  I really should disown you.”

“Stop acting like Jon is a lottery prize, for the love of Pete.”  Yes, she actually stomped her foot, but it was either stomp or stick it up Petra’s keister.  “I don’t care about his money. I’d prefer he not have it, to be honest.  Or at least not so much.  It’s unsettling.”

“You really are an idiot, you know.  Every woman wants a big diamond and a man who can take care of her, but live in a fucking cardboard box outside his penthouse if that’s what suits you.”  Petra hoisted the monstrous Coach bag onto her shoulder and directed a harsh finger at Delaney’s nose.  “What you should really find unsettling is Katya.  Why is she taking public jabs at you, Delaney?  Don’t you think that’s more bothersome than financial security?”