The 41st Disaster: A matchmaking gone wrong romantic comedy, page 20
My jaw tensed, and I silently counted to…one. “If I was a betting man, I’d bet my prized set of horseshoes you’d be the last person to show up here.”
“Someone say bet?” Melinda yelled.
Berta paled and moved to the side, out of sight. Was the cool-as-a-cucumber rich girl feeling out of place? I hoped so.
“I’m busy. What do you want?”
“One minute, to talk.” Mom and Melinda’s laughter filtered from the kitchen. “Out here.”
“No.” I began to shut the door.
“Please. It’s about Elsie, not me.”
Berta picked the right topic to make me hesitate. I stepped out and checked my watch. “Start talking.”
“Okay, I’ll speed through a bunch of junk about me to get to Elsie.”
I tapped my watch.
“I’ve always manipulated people to get them to do my bidding. Then I discovered Elsie was smitten with you.”
This fact triggered something. I let it float by.
“After forty awful dates, Elsie held firm to her no-date vow. Can you imagine? No, I bet you—”
I tapped the wrist again, not letting her know she had piqued my interest.
“During the birthday party, it was obvious Elsie really liked you. Infatuated, even. So, me, being a spoiled rich girl.” I coughed. She frowned but resumed, “I plotted a devious plan to exit stupid Parties Galore—a business I hated. The company showed my parents I was a business person, but it had run its course.”
Berta defined the word diva. “A devious plan with me in the middle?”
“There’s more to the story, such as an infernal will stipulation. Which brought about the matchmaking deal you heard about. Elsie was at a low point with Parties Galore, her brainchild. It would soon go belly up. I used her love for the company against her.”
My resolve to despise Elsie and Berta weakened—barely. “You’re not persuading me to forgive. Please leave.”
“Wait. I didn’t know Elsie had just been gut punched with Mary Goode’s impending foreclosure on the farm. I discovered this at the same time as you.”
“Doesn’t make any difference. Elsie chose to be a matchmaker.”
“At first she balked. Several times. Elsie is a sweet girl. She didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t until I suggested quick cash that she changed her mind. For Elsie, it was all about helping her mom. Otherwise, she would’ve let Parties Galore go under.”
My sister’s assurance she would’ve done the same thing for our Mom struck hard.
“After you found out, our deal was over. Kaput. But I still continued to manipulate Elsie. This morning, I threw my last ax. I demanded we sell the inventory and liquidate the company. I hit her when she was on her knees reeling from what she did to you.”
I fell against the porch banister and sat. First Elsie suffered the blow of losing her business. Then the anguish over Walter. The pain she was suffering today went unnoticed because of the familiar resentment I liked to buddy up with.
Berta shifted on her feet. “I didn’t see the pain I caused others until I talked with Detective Tate today.”
“You spoke with him?”
“Yes, I wanted to answer his question about me using my mom’s maiden name to hide my wealth. Then I unloaded this mean girl manipulation stuff on him. He listened and was supportive but made me own up to my selfish acts. I decided to make amends, starting with you, since you hold the key to Elsie’s heart.”
“Me? That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Berta crossed to the steps. “You don’t have to forgive me. But I hope you can find forgiveness for Elsie.”
While I pondered the popularity of that phrase, Berta added, “Elsie is busy with her clown class tonight. So look her up tomorrow.” Then she drove away.
What Berta did to Elsie, offering her full ownership of their business, would’ve struck down the strongest person. But when she threw in funds that could save Elsie’s childhood homestead, Berta unknowingly placed a deal Elsie couldn’t refuse.
Moms topped other people’s needs.
Elsie conned me for a good reason. AND. I conned Nicely for what I thought was a good reason. Just where do I draw the line in the dirt?
But what about Berta saying Elsie liked me? Was that true? Kind of hard to tell since we only experienced a cantankerous relationship so far. And now I understood why.
She hid her feelings to stay true to her mom.
As for my part in this jumbled up rat’s nest?
Even though I believed I was ready to trust again, I entered her clown class with a block on my shoulder the size of Barney the pony. Yet, Elsie welcomed grumpy me and kept trying to make me happy.
And it worked. I finally relaxed and let go of the hurt Stella caused. I allowed myself to have fun.
Wait one blasted minute. I fell for the real Elsie at the clown class. Elsie was Daisy. Daisy was Elsie. She and I shared that connection, a perfect DNA match thing, not me and Berta. No wonder confusion set in over me thinking I liked Daisy/Berta but loved Elsie.
We were meant for each other.
As if I were shaking off an armor of ice, my whole body shifted. And the brick wall I built around my heart fell into chunks, finally allowing me to feel Elsie's pain, to see her life and choices through her eyes. To empathize with her and the awful decisions she had to make that went against who she truly was.
I strode back into the kitchen like I had a war to win with my family.
“Guess Berta’s visit didn’t go so well. Time for us to leave.” Melinda lifted the basket, and Mom rushed to gather her items.
“Wait.” I powered on the biggest grin. “Who’s good at face painting? There’s a clown class I need to attend.”
21
DIRK
“This is priceless.” Warren slapped his leg, tilted his head back, and honked a donkey laugh. “After all your griping, you ordered another clown suit the day after the class? Buddy, you fell hard for Daisy.”
“Bibs and a striped shirt did not align with my clown personality.” I straightened the black-and-white polka dotted tie around my neck. The purple tuxedo, with a tail almost touching the ground, fit me well. I kept the original braided belt holding the brass horn, the oversized shoes, and the rainbow wig.
“So now you're a beardless, grouchy suit guy? Can’t believe you shaved.” Warren reached to honk my horn, but I smacked his hand.
I rubbed my smooth face. “Incognito. Can’t have Elsie guessing it’s me right away.”
“Uncle D, I love your new suit.” Kimmy honked the horn. I lifted my extra-wide painted-on mouth.
“Thank you. What should my clown name be?”
My adorable niece crossed her arms and tapped her foot, thinking, just like her mom. Then her eyes lit up. “Happy! You’re one of the seven dwarves!”
Warren produced his donkey laugh again. Melinda and Mom hid their smiles behind napkins.
“Happy is a super name. Suits me well.”
I whistled for Dexter to come over and wiggled his wig in front of his nose. “Can I put this on you? You let Elsie do it.”
The dog tipped his head sideways while staring at the wig. Then his tongue rolled to the side of his mouth as he panted. I got down on one knee and slipped the elastic band under his chin, placing the wig between his ears. No biting or snarling.
“Good, boy.” I gave a treat and checked my watch. Twenty minutes until the class started. “Warren, can I borrow your mini bike? And Kimmy’s enclosed trailer?”
“You plan to ride that tiny thing? Boomtown is three miles away.”
“If I’m going to embrace the fun, I need to be all in.”
Warren shrugged. “Hey, it’s your sore cheeks, and I don’t mean your face.”
Melinda pinched his arm. “We’re pleased you’re attending the class.”
“Yes, we can’t wait to hear the outcome.” Mom nodded.
On the ride to Melinda’s home from mine, I filled them in on how I’d surprise Elsie and ask for her forgiveness over my unfeeling, grouchy behaviors. They agreed it was a very wise decision.
But no matter what we thought, Elsie would be the one to accept my presence or throw me out by the neck of my clown suit. As mean as I had been, I expected the latter.
Inside the three car garage, I hooked up the enclosed blue and yellow trailer to the four-foot-tall mini bike. The tiny thing looked like something a clown would ride in a parade. I unzipped the front window of the trailer. A bright orange flag on the end of a tall plastic rod swayed as Dexter hopped in with no hesitation.
Warren pushed the remote, and the garage door rose.
After hooking on a backpack, I hopped on the seat, glad for its extra thick padding. It had been a while since I straddled a two-wheeled bike, let alone one meant for a mouse. The engine sputtered on, and Kimmy clapped.
“Good luck,” Mom shouted.
Melinda gave a thumbs-up. Warren patted his behind and play-waddled like he was sore. But he forgot I rode horses. Riding a padded bike seat would be easy compared to a leather saddle.
After I shifted into first gear, I bent one leg and set my foot on a peg. My knee seemed to be at the same height as my shoulder. I pushed off and added my other chicken-like-wing-leg to the other side. After a few seconds of getting used to the throttle, we zig-zagged down the blacktop drive. By the end, I gained control of balancing the mini bike while pulling a trailer.
Dexter didn’t seem to care how I drove. He enjoyed the blowing air.
Traffic was light on the county road leading into town. The brightly colored trailer, orange flag, and my rainbow wig alerted anyone coming up behind us. Every passing car slowly drove along while waving out their windows.
We arrived at the building with two minutes to spare. I parked outside the front door and unzipped Walter. After snatching up my backpack, we raced into the building. Mary stepped out of the classroom door and halted. She glanced between me and Dexter, recognition coming on as she studied him. “Um, hello.”
“Let me start by saying I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “You? It’s me who’s sorry.”
“Then we’re both even. We can forgive each other. May I ask for one tiny favor?”
“Anything.” I had always liked Mary. I saw where Elsie got her sweetness from.
I sat my backpack on a table and unzipped a pouch. “Can you watch Dexter for a few minutes? I want to surprise Elsie with my new clown suit. She’ll know it’s me if she sees him.”
Mary’s made-up lips widened. “Sure can. He can follow me to the kitchen. I’m collecting cans of whipped cream.”
At that word, Dexter licked his lips. He happily trotted with her down the hallway.
I tapped my knuckles on the Embrace the Fun sign. After placing one hand behind my back, I entered the room.
Elsie stood in the middle of the group forming a circle. She stopped talking and addressed me, “Looks like we have a new clown!”
Ever the welcoming hostess, she dramatically wobbled up to me. A strong feeling of pulling her toward me, like a clown tugging an unending line of handkerchiefs from a sleeve, filled my imagination. The kinetic connection was back.
Like the first time I met Daisy the Clown.
“I wasn’t aware of a new student. What’s your clown name?”
I performed a happy dance.
Her painted-on eyebrows shot up. “Okay. A silent clown. You’re not dressed as a mime. Do I have to guess?”
I nodded.
“Everyone, come here and embrace this fun. Our newest clown wants us to guess his name. Give us a hint.”
I pointed a finger at my mouth and grinned wide, showing every one of my teeth.
“Smiley,” Rusty Red guessed.
I shook my head. Then I laughed really loud while holding my belly.
“Second clue,” Harry Trotter said. “I got it! Your name is Laffy.”
His head shook again.
Elsie pinched her brows together. “I’d love to continue, but I have a class to give. Please tell us.”
“Happy.”
Daisy the Clown couldn’t guess my identity, but she certainly recognized my voice.
She jerked the sides of her tutu before crossing her arms. “Why are you here?”
“I came to beg for forgiveness over my grumpy attitude.”
She pressed her palms to her hips, right above the waistline of that tutu I loved. The clowns returned to the circle. “This is not the time or place to do this. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
At least she wasn’t throwing me out and proposed a talk.
“Maybe,” she added.
Yikes.
“Please, leave. The class needs a fun aura. You’re bringing in a dark cloud.”
Two hours ago, her words would’ve earned a growl. With my new awareness of how much I loved this woman, she could say I acted like a buffoon, and I’d agree.
“I have a gift for you.”
“I need nothing from you. Go away.” She pivoted gracefully in her size fifteen shoes.
I honked my horn. Eye daggers sharp enough to pop a balloon flew my way. I brought the plate of whipped cream out from behind my back and pitched it. The overfilled plate struck her shoulder, while some of the cream splashed her lips.
“Just embracing the fun.” I snaked my hands through the air with a clown’s flourish.
It was difficult to tell if she was angry or not with the makeup. Then she licked her tongue across her lips, catching some of the cream. She scooped a handful of the white fluff from her shoulder and slowly sauntered up to me.
The kinetic zing zapped again.
As she drew close, she smeared the cream across my face. “You can join the class. We’ll revisit this pie throwing contest.”
She turned away. I yanked her against me and placed my whipped cream lips against hers. Even without the sugary stuff, her mouth would’ve been the sweetest I ever tasted.
The clowns, the room, the world dropped away. As I gave myself freely, I knew in my soul Elsie was the one—my future wife, the mother of our children. No more fear. No more holding back.
I was giving her my trust.
Horns honked. Everyone hooted and hollered.
We broke the kiss. I held her body close to mine. “I love you, Elsie. I have since the first time we met but was too angry to see it.”
Her gaze held mine. “And I loved you. But I ignored it. Let’s get this class done. We have plenty to talk about.”
“Talk? I like the idea of miming our way with more kisses.”
“Me, too.” She squeezed a bulb on her hip. A stream of water squirted me.
The door swung open. An excited Dexter trotted in along with a smiling Mary and…
Gigi the Clown.
She wiggled her fingers at us and skipped over to stand beside Rusty Red. Confused, I went to rub my beard but found a bare chin.
Elsie placed a flattened hand beside her mouth and whispered, “After apologizing to me, Berta mentioned she talked with you. I hoped you’d seek me out. Never dreamed you’d show up here.”
“But she never attends your class.”
“She’s promised to make some changes to help save Parties Galore.”
My head and wig jerked toward Elsie. “She wants to keep it?”
“Yep. I agreed if she promised to work hard.” Elsie pecked my cheek with a tiny kiss while tickling with a fake eyelash. “Berta has a thing for Rusty Red. Or should I say, Detective Tate?” Her warm breath in my ear added more curl to my tuxedo tail.
“Of course. I’m sure Tate will be good for her.”
“Exactly. Hey, I love the new outfit. And the shaved face.”
“Thanks.”
Like love-sick puppies we gazed at each other, observing, thinking, taking in what this moment meant. We both opened our mouths to speak at the same time.
I placed a finger over her lips. “Let me go first. I’ll be honest and admit I’m a tiny bit afraid to move forward. But I want a second chance at love.”
Daisy smiled, but Elsie spoke. “Me, too. As in, I want the kind of relationship my parents had. But now that I’ve found it, I’m afraid of losing it.”
“Then let’s promise to work together to alleviate our fears.” I hooked my pinky around hers. “I promise.”
“Promise.”
I closed my hand over hers. Shivers on top of shivers shot up my arm and spread throughout my body.
She gazed at our hands, as if she felt the same DNA match connectivity. “My parents always held hands.”
“I’ll never let go.”
A sparkle lit in her eyes. “Do you like tiramisu?”
What a funny question. I loved her even more for it. “If there’s not too much cocoa.”
Buoyed by her radiant grin, I tugged her toward the group. “Let’s hurry so we can resume the pie throwing. I have a hankering for another sweet, whipped cream kiss.”
My future lover smiled brightly at me.
“Pleasure for me as well, Dr. Happy Lovette.”
22
EPILOGUE: FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER
An upbeat wedding march filtered inside the church’s lobby, cuing it was time to start. I ran my hands down my simple floor-length wedding dress. The gown wasn’t frilly as some brides preferred. But Jocelyn created the most perfect dress, especially designed for me. The snug fitting waist and tapered gown with a train that draped five feet behind me would give the Queen of England a run for her money. Not really. But I felt like I was queen for the day.
“You are perfection.” Warren, the stand-in for my dad, held the crook of his arm out. “Are you ready for this?”
I straightened his carnation boutonniere on his lapel before hooking my arm through his. “I better be. There’s enough people in there for an entire circus.”
“Only one person counts, right?”
“Don’t be making me cry before we even start.” I had been an emotional wreck since I woke up. After all the planning, the flower ordering, mailing out invitations, table assignments, tasks I couldn’t even remember, our day had finally arrived.
Kimmy, as the flower girl, and Jocelyn, the maid of honor, along with Melinda and Berta as bridesmaids, had already walked the aisle. Now it was my turn.
