The Gideon Affair (38 page)

The cowbells hanging on the diner’s door sent a clash of sounds into the air when a group of men came bustling in. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw his dad with that familiar grin moving toward him as two other men walked behind, cackling with laughter.

They all gathered around the booth where he’d set up camp, hollered to the waitress to bring some coffee, then slapped his father on the back and eyed Edward with mocking interest.

“So, this is what a big Holl-E-Wood movie star looks like in the flesh. Seems like you could use a barber, young man,” said a barrel-chested man with a handlebar mustache who probably cracked ‘em up at the senior activity center with his patented cowpoke drawl.

His dad laughed and quirked a half-grin while nodding at the guy. “Son, this is Jerry Dowd. He likes to imagine he’s the mayor so don’t say anything too smart ‘cause you know how dumb politicians are.”

Oh, my god. Classic Dad. The guy could make a friend in any situation. Edward was very glad to see how well he got on with everyone here in Wyoming. Moving to the wonderland of America had been a great decision.

If they hadn’t crowded him in, he would have stood to shake hands. Reaching out, he took the big paw Jerry proffered and let the man crush his hand in an unforgettable handshake.

“Whoa, sir,” Edward hooted good-naturedly. “Cut me a break, okay? Might need that hand for a close-up.” He shook out his fingers and wagged his wrist for emphasis.

A much smaller gentleman, short in stature but not lacking in gravitas, pushed Jerry out of the way. “All right, you old fuck. He’s not auditioning for a stunt double, so haul your calloused butt aside and let me meet this fella.”

The way his dad’s chest puffed out with pride told him whoever this was, his opinion mattered.

Immediately, another hand was shoved in his face. “What do we call you, boy?” the short man with the booming voice asked. “Your old man says you’ll answer to a dog whistle, but I’m thinking you have a preference. Am I right?”

A dog whistle. Sheesh. He smirked at his dad who was beaming like a searchlight. With a hand on Edward’s shoulder, he made an introduction.

“This is my oldest boy. Edward. Army vet. Iraq tour.”

Edward raised a brow and looked at his dad. A flash went off in his mind. To his family, he was a son and brother first. A war vet came next. That was the shit that mattered. Being a celebrity was pretty far down on the real-world list.

“Couldn’t be prouder,” Dad added at the last.

To Edward, he said, “Son, this is Patrick Mahoney. By day, he’s an environmentalist …”

He tried not to groan. A tree hugger. No wonder Dad was all puffed up.

“But for fun he and his daughter run a fishing excursion company.”

They shook hands and Patrick quipped, “Don’t laugh. Daddy’s little girl is a shark, let me tell you. Runs the whole show without breaking a sweat. My retirement has been more lucrative than forty years watching all our natural resources get frittered away.”

Laughing and joking, they squeezed around him in the booth and teased the waitress who came over carrying a pot of black sludge and a couple of mugs that she plunked on the table.

“You boys having the special,” she drawled, “or are you just here to finish off all the pie?”

Half an hour later, an entire blueberry pie had been consumed along with a gallon of coffee as the men regaled him with wild tales of river fishing, chupacabra sightings, and an endless commentary about kids these days. It was all so down homey comfortable, although absurd, that Edward had to smile. His dad had found his tribe.

“Ah, your mom sent a text,” Dad chortled. “Perfect spelling and punctuation, of course.” The laugh they shared was genuine. His mother never LOL’d or JK’d.

“The gals are on their way home. The perfect dress has been locked down. Says they video chatted with Rose from the dress shop. Everyone’s happy. A mother of the bride outfit decided on.”

All the guys groan-chuckled in that way men have when talking about women’s stuff.

“Oh, and we’re supposed to make wedding rings happen. Even gave me Paige’s ring size,” Dad stressed as he held his phone up like seeing the ring size in a text made it official.

“Randolph’s,” Jerry told them all with a nod. “Get all my wife’s bling from them.”

It occurred to him at that moment that he was in the presence of men who’d all been where he was at one time. Maybe asking for a little wedding advice wasn’t such a bad idea.

“What else?” he asked. “Help me out here, guys. I don’t want to mess things up. There’s more than just a ring, right?”

The raucous laughter erupting from their booth got the attention of all the other diners. “I hope you have fire insurance, son,” his dad jeered. “’Cause your credit care is about to start smoking!”

I
t was a warm, late summer night. Brilliant stars twinkled overhead. Quiet hovered over everything. Paige wondered if it got any better than this. She was stretched out in a hammock that swayed gently as she rocked her hips side to side, hands behind her head, absently studying the heavens.

Steven and Miriam had left to make the round trip out to the airport to wait for Marshall’s flight. Once he arrived, it would really start to feel like a family event was in the making.

A dress in a big, white garment bag hung in Miriam’s master walk-in that had been the only one she wanted to look at or try on. She knew the minute she saw it that this was her dress. Having her mom’s input through a video chat had been just the oddball, quirky touch that this wedding screamed for.

Having a small, intimate family ceremony was perfect for them. The only people who needed to witness their exchange of vows were going to be there. They’d take care of everyone else after the movie wrapped. Maybe hold a shindig in Santa Barbara.

Carolyn and Patsy would be peeved that they weren’t here. So would Mickey, Shirley, and a whole slew of people who were a part of their daily lives, but this wasn’t about anyone but Edward and her. Five people plus the justice were quite enough thanks.

“Hey, pretty lady.” A firm grip took hold of her ankle and squeezed. “Got room for me?”

Edward maneuvered into the big hammock and held her while they spooned and swayed in the soft night air.

“Happy?”

“Insanely. Your folks are being fantastic.”

“I got our rings today. Wanna see ‘em?”

Oh, my goodness. Her head turned as much it could. “Was that rings as in plural?”

He chuckled softly and kissed her on the nose. “Why so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I guess because guys don’t seem to care about the jewelry.”

“This guy does. I want there to be no doubt who owns my heart.”

“I think we have to postpone our Bora Bora honeymoon. No time to plan.”

“What’s up on the queue after Montana? That Indie film, right? We could go after that.”

“I’ll pencil you in, Mr. Banning. After I check with my boss.”

“You do that. Let me know if he’s a putz and I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Okay, but don’t you mess up my bonus. Mama needs some new shoes.”

They laughed and giggled. Tickled, snuggled, told outrageous tales of nonsense that were straight off-the-cuff hilarious, and plotted their future. When he asked her out of the blue what her dreams were, she’d snickered until he got all kinds of serious.

“No, for real, babe. You didn’t go to L.A. to end up as some douchebag actor’s PA.” He pressed his face into her hair and murmured, “What’s in this busy head of yours where your career dreams are concerned.”

Gosh.
Ask an easy question and get a convoluted answer.
Should she be surprised that he asked? Because she wasn’t. Once he’d staked his claim, Edward became all about her happiness. If she wanted to raise llamas in Alaska, he’d agree with no problem.

“Mmm, it’s kind of hard to explain, but there’s this whole crazy narrative in my head that makes perfect sense to me. Mostly, I think about creating something that’s never been done before. Unique. With a fresh new take on families who travel and go exploring.”

“I’m listening. What else?”

She wiggled and scooted, almost dumping them from the hammock until they were lying face-to-face.

“Okay, so here it is. My grandma loved to tell this story about how she met my grandfather in a tea room at a bed and breakfast along a bumpy, back road in Georgia. I knew the story was all about them meeting for her, but I loved hearing her describe the stately old Southern mansion that sat at the end of a tree-lined drive. And how every afternoon, except on Sunday, the innkeeper served tea in what Granny called the old-fashioned way.”

“Sounds cool.”

“Right? Well, I think that offering people a more personalized experience than what you’d find at a Best Western, especially if the needs of the whole family were in play—not just the parents—would be tapping into an underserved niche of vacation and day trip travelers.”

“I’m listening.”

She smiled. If she knew him at all, he was doing more than listening; he was taking mental notes.

“I’d like to fix up an old house and make it family friendly. Game room, stuff like that. Create guest suites instead of single rooms that would accommodate mom, dad, and kids. A B&B concept but more modern.”

“And the tea? Would that be a part of it?”

He really was listening.

“Y’know, I like that whole afternoon tea, late day siesta thing. Everyone needs a chance to relax. Like naptime for adults without the eyes closed thing. So yeah, maybe not a traditional tea but some sort of … thing.”

“Sounds awesome. Day trip with the kids? Stop at a B&B for a late day refresher. That way the parents are less likely to want to snap when they get home.”

“Exactly!”

The swaying continued. “You know, we could totally start checking out some properties. Maybe do a test run?”

As drily as she could, Paige pithily replied, “ I think we have enough on our plate right now.”

“Oh shit,” Edward hooted gleefully. “I forgot to tell you. Talked to M. In another week, this whole thing will have run its course. Long story short, you were right.”

"Ah, ha-ha, ha-ha. Told you.”

“By the time we get back to L.A., all this nonsense will have blown over and we can focus on other things. Like coming up with a business plan for your B&B idea and looking for a real house, not a bachelor beach-pad. Preferably something with a shit-ton of bedrooms we can work on filling with a new generation of Banning rug rats.”

Uhhhhh … babies? Were they talking about babies? Good grief. They really were on some surreal fast track.

She snickered. “Yes, well, we’ll negotiate on that whole gestate a human being thing. Before that, you might want to review my bonus check a few more times if you think keeping me barefoot and pregnant is a plan.”

“Fucking golddigger.”

“Asshole sex god.”

They were going to make a great team.

Breakfast at the Banning homestead when both boys were home was quite an adventure. A loud and boisterous one.

Thrilled to see Marsh again, Edward had him in a brotherly headlock in the first five minutes they were all in the same room. To say he loved his little bro was an understatement. Marsh had been his lieutenant, sidekick, and provoker from his earliest memory. They were alike but different. Probably as it should be.

The pancakes had flown; a slab of bacon the size a two-year-old got sliced and cooked. Two dozen eggs were prepared, and throughout it all, his mom and Paige had smiled and shook their heads. Good times.

They were gathered around the table. Paige, of course, was on his lap, and his folks were doing that tag team thing parents did so well as they tried to pry information from Marsh who, as usual, was a font of nothing.

“So, what does that mean, hon? Are you staying? Passing through? Heading where?”

Moms. They knew how to get right to the heart of things.

“Actually, Mom, I’ve got something to keep me busy. I’m calling it Project-Get-a-Life.”

Paige snorted. Marsh had been traipsing around the globe for years following fuck knows what whims. He didn’t share much, and she knew Edward was slightly mystified about what he did with his time. And money.