Tuesday Tales: From the Word Gray

Badge for TT - very small (1)Welcome this week’s edition of Tuesday Tales. Thanks to Jean Joachim and the other members of this group who help me be the best writer I can be. I’m continuing with Wedding Bell Blues. As I did last week, I’m picking up right where I left off.

head tableCindy laughed. “Gosh, wait until the folks back home see this. We didn’t know anything about the treasure hunt and now, not only are we part of that, we’re going to be on television. I can’t believe it! The manager says instead of that small room we have on the top floor, we’ll be moved to an ocean-front bungalow. I’m amazed there would be one available.”

MJ looked at Paul, who nodded. As emotionally stressed as she was, it took everything in her not to burst into a fit of giggles that would lead to tears she would never be able to suppress.

“There must’ve been a cancellation,” she said, astonished she could speak, guessing that bungalow had probably been intended for Mark and Melena, and he would be livid when he saw his accommodations. She almost wished she could see his face when he checked in. First he would turn an ugly shade of gray as reality set in, and then the color would rise in him, until livid red, he would vent his anger and disdain in one of his infamous snit-fits that usually resulted in him getting whatever he wanted.

But not this time.

Cindy’s voice pulled her back to the table. “Can you believe it? We’ve never won anything important in our entire lives and now, not only are we here, we were chosen for this. I don’t even win at Bingo!”

“Since you’ve been this lucky, maybe you’ll find treasure, too,” MJ said, not because she believed it, but to keep her mind focused on the here and now, away from Mark and Melena and the hell that would ensue once they arrived.

“Wouldn’t that be something? Ricky’s a mechanic, and makes a good living—nothing over the top—but we manage. You two are here for fourteen days. Closing the garage for ten was hard enough. My mother wouldn’t survive the terrors for that long, she would have a breakdown for sure.”

Pain pierced MJ at the thought of the children she might never have. “You’ve got kids?

“Yes,” Ricky said, joining the conversation once more and pulling out his wallet to proudly display a picture of Cindy and two dark-haired, dark-eyed boys. “Ewan’s five and Sean’s three, and believe me, they can be a handful. This is the first time we’ve left them.” He reached for his wife’s hand. “We couldn’t afford a honeymoon six years ago when we got married. Now, she’ll be treated the way she deserves if only for a little while.”

Cindy blushed and kissed her husband. Envy tore at MJ.

“You treat me very well, and you know it,” Cindy said. “This is a wish come true, but not one I was pining for. This place is so beautiful it’s as if it’s touched by magic.”

Magic or voodoo.

MJ smiled, praying it looked natural. What she should be doing right now was finding Lucette’s grandmother and asking for a potion to protect herself from Mark’s wrath. He wasn’t going to like this one damn bit, and Mark on the warpath wouldn’t be a pleasant sight. Pretending to be engaged, legally or not, was one thing, but a new bride? And now she would be overseeing all of the festivities? Add to that the fact he’d probably lost his waterfront bungalow as well. He would be fit to be tied, and she would be the target of his rage.

As Sir Walter Scott said, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.

She shivered.

“Cold?” Paul asked softly, the concern in his voice genuine, touching her despite her distraction. He really was the hero type.

She shook her head. “Not really—one of those ‘someone walked over my grave moments’. I’m fine.”

Paul frowned, but before he could say anything, Cindy went on. “When we got off that boat, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”

“So did I,” MJ agreed. Only for her, the island might well become her own personal hell.

That’s it for now. Please take the time to check out the other  Tuesday Tales


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