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“Better only make it a half.” She giggled. “I think I’m getting a little tipsy.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Stacy said, and disappeared into the trailer, only to return with another full glass.
“I know one thing,” Paige said after taking another sip. “I will not get involved with someone who works at the same place as I do. Today had to be the most humiliating day of my life. I used to think the people who worked at the resort were nice, but now…”
“Hey—they are nice, but like everyone else they talk,” Stacy said in defense of her coworkers. “If you’re going to be mad at someone, it should be Michael. He’s the one who gave them something to talk about.”
“Ever since I got his letter I’ve been trying to figure out what I could have done differently in our relationship, but he acted as if he was really happy.”
“Paige, this is not your fault.”
“Then why do I feel like it is?”
“Because you’re a woman and men want us to feel that way…like we’re to blame for everything that goes wrong in a relationship.”
“Well, it doesn’t help that some women buy into that crap. Maybe our problem was about sex. But if sex was so important to our relationship, he shouldn’t have told me he understood my reasons for wanting to wait until we were married to sleep together.”
“You never had sex with Michael!” It was a statement, not a question.
Paige gasped. “I can’t believe I told you that.”
“It’s okay. I’ll treat it as a confidence. You have my word.” Stacy made a cross over her heart with her right index finger.
“I’ve always believed that I would only have sex with one man—the one I married. It was a gift I wanted to give my husband on our wedding night. That’s why Michael and I were waiting until we were married…or at least I was waiting. He was obviously doing it with Chelsea.” Paige took another sip of her punch then asked, “Do you think if I had been sleeping with Michael, he would have still run off with her?”
“Now you’re starting to sound like one of those women who believe the crap men are peddling. You and Michael had an agreement. He broke it. It’s that simple. Case closed.”
“You’re right. Even if we did have sex, he might have still run off with Chelsea.”
“Exactly.” Stacy lifted her glass in acknowledgment. “There’s no excuse for his behavior.”
“I can’t believe he dumped me like that. He could have at least told me face-to-face. He’s chickenshit. And pig shit, too.” She giggled.
“He’s afraid of heights,” Stacy reminded her.
“And bees. He runs like a girl when he sees one. He told me it’s because he’s allergic to them, but I think he’s just afraid.”
“He’s vain. Have you noticed how he can’t pass a mirror without admiring himself?”
With each sip of the fruit drink Paige found it easier to find fault with her ex-fiancé. By the time she was on her third glass of Stacy’s special concoction, she was convinced she’d been unhappy with him.
“Now aren’t you glad you’re not going to marry the man?” Stacy asked.
“Yeeeesss! I’m happy he’s gone and I hope I never have to see him again!” she proclaimed in a loud voice as she stretched her arms toward the sky.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you to see the positive side of him leaving?”
“Yes, and thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing theatrically. “Oooh—look, our fire is going out.”
“Got anything you want to burn? Maybe some pictures?” Stacy asked, arching an eyebrow.
Paige snapped her fingers. “That’s it. I’m going to burn his pictures. Watch my drink for me.” She disappeared inside the trailer and returned with a handful of snapshots in one hand and a cardboard box in the other. She tossed the photos onto the fire and watched them burn. “Good riddance.”
“What’s in the box?” Stacy asked.
Paige removed the lid and a pile of papers floated onto the flames. “Scorecards from our golf games. He wanted me to save them. Nobody cares about your stupid golf scores, Michael!” she shouted into the fire.
“Feel better?” Stacy asked.
“I feel great!” She ran back into the trailer and came out waving a piece of paper.
“What’s that?”
“It’s my Top Ten list…you know, my list of the ten most important traits a guy needs to have to be a good boyfriend. I thought Michael had all ten, but it turns out he was missing the most important one.”
“Which is?”
“A guy should be trustworthy.” She tossed the paper into the fire and made several more trips into the trailer, each time coming out with more things to burn. But it was the last article that brought Stacy to her feet. Folded over Paige’s arm was her wedding gown.
“I have one last thing to get rid of. I just bought this today. Can you believe that? Today of all days. I buy my wedding dress and my fiancé runs off with another woman.”
Alarmed, Stacy rose to her feet. “You’re not thinking of putting that in the fire, are you?”
“Sure. Why not? I’m never going to wear it.”
JUSTIN’S ROAD TRIP went about as well as his day had gone. After being stuck in rush-hour traffic leaving St. Paul, he’d hit road construction that caused another delay and made him wish he’d ordered more than a super-size soda when he stopped at a fast-food drive-thru. Other than three Salted Nut Roll candy bars he’d found in the glove compartment of his pickup, he’d had nothing to eat since lunch, which was why as soon as he reached Paige’s he planned to take her out somewhere decent for dinner. She could pour her heart out to him just as easily over a thick, juicy prime cut of beef as she could over a burger. But if she wanted fast food, he would sacrifice the steak.
Thinking of being with her had him pushing the pedal a little closer to the metal. As the sun went down and the air cooled, he turned off his air-conditioning and rolled down the windows, loving the feel of the breeze rushing through the cab of his pickup. He turned up the volume on his CD player so the sounds of the Dave Matthews Band blared in stereo all around him. The music was so loud he didn’t hear the siren. It wasn’t until he glanced into his rearview mirror and saw the flashing red light that he knew he’d been a little too eager to get to see Paige. He cursed under his breath and pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” he asked in his good-citizen voice.
“Know how fast you were driving?” the policeman asked.
“Sixty-five?” Justin ventured to guess.
“Eighty-two. Could I see your driver’s license, please?”
Justin didn’t miss the way the officer’s eyes scanned the cab of the pickup. Surely there was nothing suspicious about a guy’s having three empty candy wrappers and a super-size beverage cup from a fast-food restaurant on his front seat. So why was the man’s face wrinkling as if there was?
“Are those your shoes?” he asked, pointing to the pair of athletic shoes on the passenger-side mat.
“Yes.”
“You’re not driving barefoot, are you?”
“No. I have on sandals.”
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
Justin climbed out, smoothing down the wrinkles of his khaki shorts as he unfolded his long legs. The officer looked at his feet, then back up at his shirt. Justin was grateful he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt with some irreverent saying on the front. It was only because experience had taught him it would be wise not to challenge the authority of anyone wearing a badge and carrying a gun that he managed to stay calm and wait for the officer to issue the ticket. As he pondered his situation, he thought it was a good thing that Michael Cross had left town or else Justin might have kicked his skinny little ass when he got to the resort.
But he didn’t want to waste time thinking about the weasel. Paige was the one he worried about. He hoped she was all right. Knowing her, he expected to find her at home cleaning her tiny trailer. That’s what she usually did when she was stressed—organized her cupboards and drawers. She loved to put things in order, especially when her mind was in turmoil.
Paige wasn’t like most women he knew. She got angry and got over it. She didn’t dwell on the bad stuff. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t in her nature. And she rarely resorted to tears. That’s why today when he’d heard her voice crack with emotion he knew that this breakup was different from others. And that was the reason he had immediately jumped in his pickup and hit the road. She needed him.
Yes, it was only as a friend, but that was the way it had always been and he’d accepted it could be no other way a long time ago. Even if Paige had given him any indication that she wanted to take their friendship to the next level—and she hadn’t—he wouldn’t have been able to follow through on it. The reason they’d been able to stay close for so long was because early on in their friendship they’d agreed that no matter how tempting it might be to test the waters of romance, they were first and foremost friends. It was why Kyle hadn’t acted upon his adolescent crush on Paige. And why neither of them would ever know of his love for her.
Justin couldn’t risk losing her. If she were to ever find out that he had feelings for her, she might withdraw emotionally. It was the kind of revelation that once it was out there, you could never take it back. He’d been friends too long with Kyle and Paige to take such a chance.
So Justin’s was the shoulder Paige cried on when she needed one—which was seldom. More often she simply used him as a sounding board. Although he knew she had a soft center, she’d spent most of her life showing the world how tough she could be. She’d get angry, talk about the problem, then get over it and move on. It was one of the things he loved about her. Her resiliency. That and the fact that she wasn’t the kind for emotional outbursts. He could use some of that self-control himself as the officer handed him a speeding ticket.
By the time he reached the campground where she was staying it was dark. He’d only been to her place once—when he and Kyle had helped her move. He followed the dirt road that wound through the campground, looking closely at the numbers that identified the different sites.
But he didn’t need a number to point out where Paige lived. She was standing on a lawn chair swinging a wedding dress around as if she was getting ready to toss it into the campfire. “What the…” he mumbled to himself as he scurried out of the truck.
“That better not be the dress that nearly cost me a client this morning,” Justin said as he approached the campfire.
Both women turned at the sound of his voice. “Justin! You’re just in time. Get it? Just-in?” She giggled and he raced over to swoop her off the chair.
“Hey—what are you doing?” she protested.
“Bringing you down to my level so you can give me a proper welcome and thank me for coming to you in your hour of need, although it looks as if you’ve been doing all right without me.”
With the wedding dress still in her arms she pulled him to her and gave him a hug so that he nearly got a mouthful of satin.
“You came all the way up here to make sure that I was okay?”
“Yup, once again Justin to the rescue.” He looked over his shoulder at her companion. “I have a habit of doing this.”
“What a good friend you are,” Paige gushed as she released him. “I am so glad you’re here. You’re just in time to see me burn the last reminder of the chickenshit.”
When she moved to toss the dress into the fire, he stopped her. “You’re not burning that thing. It has a history.”
“Oh, you mean the schoolteacher and the soldier.” She sighed. “They were so in love.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t burn the dress.” He took the gown from her hands.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” the blond woman said, and suddenly Paige found her manners.
“Justin, you remember Stacy, don’t you? She’s in charge of customer relations. Stacy, this is Justin, my best friend and maid of honor.”
“Maid of honor?” Stacy lifted her eyebrows inquisitively.
“It’s a long story,” Justin said. They made small talk, and Justin told her that he was one of the Bulldogs and would be staying for the weekend.
Stacy finally said, “I really should get going.” She turned to Paige. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“You don’t have to go because Justin came,” Paige told her.
“No, but it’s late and I do have to work tomorrow.”
Paige covered her mouth. “Oh, I forgot. Thanks for all your help tonight,” she said, giving the other woman a hug.
As Stacy prepared to leave, Paige said, “What about the stuff you bought for the men are pigs punch?”
Stacy dismissed her concern with a flap of her hand. “Keep it.”
“Men are pigs punch?” Justin repeated.
“It’s really good,” Paige told him. “You have to try it—even though you’re not a pig.”
Justin looked at Paige. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, I am. You’re my best friend.” Then she turned to Stacy and gave her a hug. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to see the positive side of getting dumped.”
Justin was at a loss for words. He’d expected to find Paige angry and hurt, but he hadn’t expected to find her drinking. He asked Stacy if she needed a ride home, but she assured him she’d had only one glass of the punch a few hours earlier, so she was fine. As she drove away, he knew the first thing he had to do was put the wedding dress out of sight.
“What are you going to do with that?” Paige asked as he started walking with the dress toward his truck.
“Put it away so you can return it and get your money back.”
“I don’t care about the money. I want to burn it. Bring it back here,” she ordered him.
He ignored her and kept walking. He was fairly certain that come tomorrow she’d be glad the satin gown wasn’t among the ashes of the fire pit. “You may feel differently tomorrow.”
She followed him. “No, I won’t. I don’t ever want to see that stupid dress again. I don’t want any memories of Mr. Michael ‘I’m a chickenshit’ Cross.”
“Then I’ll return it for you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Because you said there’s a story behind it,” he said, draping it across the seat of his pickup.
“Yeah, and it’s a nightmare. You can take it back to the consignment shop but no one’s going to want to buy it now. Everyone in town knows what happened.”
He could see it would do no good to argue with her as to the worth of the dress so he simply said, “Then we won’t return it. Why don’t you go inside and get me a beer.”
“I don’t have any beer but Stacy left the punch and it’s really good. You can drink it even though you’re a guy.”
“Maybe we should have some coffee.”
“Coffee? You don’t drink coffee.” She gave him a puzzled look before saying, “Ah, I get it. You think I’m drunk.” She giggled. “I’ve only had two glasses, Just-in.” She stressed each syllable of his name. “Enough to make me realize I’m better off without Mr. Chickenshit.”
“You just made my point. You’re swearing, which means you’ve definitely hit your limit of alcohol.”
“You’re sounding like a big brother again, Just-in. I don’t need a big brother tonight. I need a friend. And if you are my best friend you will help me celebrate the end of my engagement.” She held up her left hand and wiggled it in the air. “See. No ring.”
His eyes widened. “You didn’t throw that in the fire?”
“Nope. I flushed it down the toilet.” Seeing the expression on his face, she laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s inside. Now, are you going to join me in a glass of punch or not? Stacy made it extra weak because she knows it doesn’t take much to give me a headache.”
“Why don’t you just bring me a soda.”
She shoved her fists to her waist. “Did you or did you not drive all the way up here a day early to help me make it through the nastiest day of my life?”
“I did,” he assured her.
“Good, because that’s what friends do—they’re there for each other when you need them, and right now I need you to be my best friend, not my big brother. Nothing bad is going to happen to you or me just because we have a couple of glasses of men are pigs punch.”
He thought about it briefly and decided if sitting around the campfire drinking made her forget about her broken heart, who was he to say she should stop? “Okay, go inside and get us some punch.”
As she climbed the steps to the trailer she called out over her shoulder, “If you’re not going to burn the dress, we’re going to need more wood for the fire. There’s a pile of it on the other side of my car.”
While she was inside he gathered several birch logs and added them to the fire. It was quiet on her campsite. A small awning extended from the trailer under which she had a bistro-size table and chairs. Although the campsites were fairly close together, trees afforded a privacy that made it feel as if they were in the middle of the wilderness.
Justin leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature all around him. The steady chirping of the crickets, the buzz of insects. He smiled to himself. Paige loved the outdoors and didn’t mind the bugs. It was one of the many things he found attractive about her. She wasn’t given to princesslike behavior. If a spider crawled up her leg she wouldn’t run screaming in circles.
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