An Act of Love. Marion Ekholm
Introduction
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AFTER WORK ON Friday night, Marley Roman and her friend Dede Sanchez met for drinks at a downtown bar in Phoenix to escape the July heat before heading home. Marley pushed her long hair away from her neck to let the cool air-conditioning sweep around her.
“Here’s to you, Lindy.” Marley lifted her oversize margarita to her lips and licked at the salt before taking a sip. “Thanks for beating me to the altar.” Saturday morning she’d be flying to her youngest sister’s wedding. Memories of the last sister’s ceremony still haunted her. How could she handle the next week and keep her sanity?
“I’ve never seen you so glum.” Dede placed her glass of wine on the bar. “Why not avoid this ritual? Tell your family you’ve come down with the plague or something.”
Marley leaned toward her friend. “Right. Like anyone would believe me.” She hastily readjusted herself on the bar stool to catch her balance. The drink hadn’t helped Marley’s funky mood one bit. Maybe skipping supper hadn’t been such a great idea.
“I’m the first of six girls, five of whom...who...whom...” After pausing, she took a deep breath to clear her thinking. “Why do I have to be the last one?”
“Since when has marriage become one of your priorities?” Dede dusted a speck off her black dress, which was the same shade as her long hair. “I thought you liked being single.”
“I do, but everyone in my family questions it. And they keep asking me when will it be my turn.” Marley tried to focus. “Well, maybe someday I’ll meet someone—and then...then I’ll think about it.”
“It won’t happen. Not when you refuse to accept the drink that cute guy at the end of the bar is offering.” Dede smiled at him and waved a finger; Marley ignored him. He didn’t appeal to her. For that matter few men had since she’d finished college more than a decade ago.
Dede continued where she’d left off. “You won’t date anyone in your office, and you completely blew it when I tried fixing you up with the guys I work with.”
Marley propped her cheek against her hand and leaned her elbow on the bar to support her head. “Jerrod was ten years younger than me—”
“Nothing wrong with being a cougar.”
“And Lincoln looked like the original Lincoln, minus the beard.”
Marley finished her drink and motioned to the bartender.
“Want the same margarita, Red?” He reached for her glass.
Red. She hated that reference to her hair color. Did he call other customers Black, Brown or Blonde when he addressed them? Her father was always called Red. Anyone calling her that brought back memories of him. She didn’t need reminders of all the pain associated with her father’s abandonment.
“The name’s Marley, and, yes, I’d like the same.”
“You sure?” Dede attempted to shoo the bartender away. “You rarely ever finish one, let alone two.”
“I’m not driving, so it’s okay.”
The bartender hadn’t moved. He jerked his thumb toward the end of the bar. “He’d still like to buy you one.”
Marley glanced at the man, gave him a halfhearted smile, placed a bill on the bar and shook her head. The motion momentarily destroyed her vision, making her realize she’d already had enough. “No, thanks. Don’t fix another. Your margaritas are way too potent.”
“You know, you’re avoiding the real problem.” Dede stood and went through her purse in search of money.
“Which is?”
“Guilt.”
Marley furrowed her brow. “What guilt?”
“You moved away from your family, and every time they bring you back, you try to make it up to them.” Dede dropped a bill on the bar. “Like this wedding. You’ve practically paid for most of it yourself.”
Marley shrugged. “Maybe so, but this is the last wedding so...no more guilt.”
“Yeah, right. Until the next baby is born.”
Hesitantly, Marley placed her foot on the floor, got off the stool and held on to the bar for support. “See, no hands.” Marley lifted both palms, only to lose her balance and grab the back of the stool.
“At some point, you’ll have to say no.” They started for the door. “Practice. It could make your life so much simpler.”
Now that the sun had gone down and the night air felt tolerable, they walked the few short blocks to the light-rail station. Marley slung her jacket over her arm and hiked her purse’s strap onto her shoulder. Her feet ached in her open-toed heels. Getting home, then into a bath, was her only priority.
“What you need is a fiancé, not a marriage.” Dede slipped her arm through hers.
Just