LITMIR.BIZ

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about what? Maybe you’re afraid your big score won’t go down,” Manny winked.

      “What are you talking about? There’s no score here,” Glen said, trying to assure him. “I’m a changed man. I’m marrying Brenda because I love her. That’s all there is to it,” Glen said, darting him a You don’t know what you’re talking about look.

      Manny grinned. “Just wanted to be sure you’re sure.”

      When Glen didn’t say anything, Manny continued. “Remember you and I have a rich history.” He slurred the last words, toying with Glen. His friend looked at him.

      “Would you stop razzing me. I’m nervous enough.” Glen slammed the door behind him. “Dammit! You may be my best friend, but you can be a pain.” With the tuxedo slung over his shoulder, Glen walked up the sidewalk to the front of the house. He didn’t turn back, but heard the sound of the Cadillac’s revved-up motor racing away.

      The doorbell startled Brenda and the dogs in the backyard started a cacophony of barking. She took a calming breath, put her hand to her mouth and blew into it to check her breath. It smelled okay. She straightened her shoulders, put on an air of confidence and went to open the front door.

      Taped to the back of the door was a ‘to-do’ list. Brenda scanned it: flowers, balloons, wine and champagne, wedding cake and rice. She hoped she had remembered everything. She snatched the list off the door, wadded the paper up and hid it discreetly behind a vase on a nearby table. She grasped the brass door handle. It felt cool from the air-conditioning and she wondered if she had the thermostat too low. Then she realized that she was running hot because of her racing heartbeat.

      Brenda paused briefly to steady herself, then opened the door. Framed in the doorway and glowing in the afternoon sun was Glen. His handsome, chiseled features, emphasized by a mustache and dark brown eyes, contrasted nicely with his light brown, wavy hair. What a perfect man, Brenda thought and sighed. She doubted that he knew just what a hunk he was, because he often seemed shy and unsure of himself.

      He offered her a skittish smile and said, “You look beautiful.” He paused a moment looking at her, then went on, “Are we really doing this?”

      Brenda flung her arms around him and shouted “yes.” Startled by the sudden gesture, Glen stepped backward, taking her with him, but she didn’t care. She was too excited. He took control of the moment, raised her chin and kissed her gently on the lips as she closed her eyes. It was odd, she thought, how he always knew just the right thing to do to calm her fidgetiness.

      The heavenly kiss sent her soaring. When Glen broke away, she opened her eyes and he stood back staring at her. She saw the stain of her lipstick on his face. It reminded her of a Picasso painting. He looked funny and she giggled.

      “I guess you better get in here, before we give the whole neighborhood something to talk about,” she said and gave him a little tug.

      Glen stepped inside the house. He stood in one spot as if glued to the floor and scanned the room. He had never been to her house before. He had been living in Kansas City and since she worked there, they had always met at his place.

      Suddenly, Brenda realized it was all strange to him.

      “This is home,” she told him and looped her arm through his.

      Brenda looked around the house, trying to see it through Glen’s eyes as she led him into the living room. Things she had never thought about before, she suddenly realized, had her personality stamped all over them. One whole wall held a mahogany bookcase filled with her books, her porcelain doll collection and the glass incense burners that wafted her favorite vanilla aroma into the room. In one corner stood a pink wrought iron birdcage and the exotic blue parrot in the cage squawked at Glen. Even he knew Glen was a stranger to this house.

      Brenda hadn’t realized before how feminine the place was until she looked around now. Suddenly, she saw through a man’s eyes her delicate figurines—mostly of animal figures—scattered around the room and the canopy of flowering plants that hung from the ceiling. Each plant’s perfume saturated her nostrils as she walked under them.

      When Glen reached up and felt a leafy fern, she said, “It’s real.”

      “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.

      “You might have thought it was silk.”

      “What? Silk comes from worms, not flowers,” he said.

      “I’ll explain later.” Glen seems more nervous than I am. I never thought about the groom having last-minute jitters. I need to think of something to help him relax.

      He took her hands in his and looked in her eyes. “Brenda, I love you and I don’t want any secrets between us.”

      “Oh, alright,” Brenda said. “I’ll tell you now. A lot of people have ferns made out of plastic or silk. I…”

      He cut her off. “No, I wasn’t talking about that. I have something I’ve got to tell you before we get married. When I was younger and stupid, I made some mistakes…”

      They hadn’t known each other but a couple of months. Her mind was racing ahead of him. Did he have AIDS? Was he not legally divorced? Did he have ten kids that she didn’t know about?

      “I ran into a little trouble,” he said. “I got into debt and wrote some hot checks…It was more than just one check…It was…” he paused and looked at her. “Now my credit is ruined.”

      Well, if that’s the worst thing about him…I didn’t dare tell him about the time I miscalculated my checkbook and bounced seven hundred dollars worth of checks. I had never been more embarrassed than calling all those people and trying to convince them it had been an honest mistake.

      She could see the concern in his eyes. Isn’t it sweet? He wants to start our life together with a clean ledger. “Glen, we all make mistakes,” she said. “I wish it hadn’t happened, but over time you can get your credit back. I’ll help you.”

      He picked her up and twirled her around. “I love you. You just made me the happiest man in the world.”

      They kissed and Brenda was certain she could forgive him just about anything—she loved him so much. Maybe even too much if there was such a thing. A loud lion’s roar parted them.

      “What was that?” Glen asked.

      “That was Katula, my mountain lion. Remember I told you I take in abused animals and raise others for zoos?”

      “Oh, right. I forgot,” Glen said. The mantle clock chimed a sweet tune. He looked at it. “It’s getting late. I’d better change clothes. Where’s the bathroom?”

      “Would you like to tour the place first?” Brenda asked.

      Glen nodded. “But we’d better hurry,” he said, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and nervously jingled his change.

      She showed him the kitchen area. Old farm implements hung around the ceiling—a cotton scale, sickle, horse shoe, ice tongs, a wagon wheel. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow and white eyelet curtains adorned the windows. The room was cozy and rustic.

      “Would you like something to drink?”

      “Iced tea, if you have it.”

      “Peach or lemon?”

      “Peach or lemon what?”

      “Tea.”

      “I’ve never had either. I’ll take what you’re having,” he said.

      She made them each a glass of peach tea. Glen took a sip and grinned. “It’s good.”

      Brenda swallowed some of hers. The sweet, fruity bouquet drifted up from the glass and added to the flavor.

      An antique curio cabinet in the corner housed her salt and pepper shaker collection. Glen bent down. “I’ve never

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