Cross Your Mind (An Emerson Novel Book 3) Read online

  CROSS YOUR

  MIND

  An Emerson Novel

  K L Finalley

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or to living persons alive or dead. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publishers except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

  Published by Copper Penny Press

  Copyright © 2017 by K L Finalley

  All rights reserved.

  To Beth - Sink into the story and escape from the world.

  "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life."

  ― Richard Bach, Illusions

  Prologue

  Standing in the doorway of the men's dressing area at the Whispering Pines Country Club, Jacqueline Emerson felt the smirk that she knew rested on her face. Nothing funny had been said. In fact, she and Elet Walden hadn't spoken a word in nearly an hour. No wild pranks or antics had happened. They had wandered around their salon alone for hours. They'd moved from one high-back leather chair to another. She had stretched out on the dimpled, rollback leather couch while he swung golf clubs; incorrectly, she’d supposed. Each had flipped through the various sporting and athletic magazines, which littered the oak side tables. At one point, they'd stood side by side gazing out the wood-trimmed door, ridiculing the members who dallied about the greens, enjoying their imported beers while falling out of their golf carts. Yet, Jacqueline nor Elet were entertained by the television that babbled endlessly in the background.

  But, now, all of that had passed; and, she stood alone in that doorframe and waited. That moment had been years in the making. Time had inched from the days of speculation about how to propose to the afternoon of the ring purchase to the evening of the proposal to the wedding planning to the arguing and the doubting to the eventual reconciling. And, all of it, all of those moments had led to that moment - of waiting.

  Her mind was still. Quiet. Not anxious. Not worried. Not wandering. Just still. Mallory Cummings, her girlfriend, had made certain to send a stylist to curl her closely, cropped black hair. With that recently completed, she stood fully dressed. In her gray dress pants and black wingtips, she matched Elet and the groomsmen. Yet, her long-sleeved, salmon-colored shirt with its semi-spread collar made her a very obvious groomswoman. Contrary to the groomsmen, the tips of her collar curved and the pearl buttons of her shirt began further down the plank than did the simple white buttons that decorated the men's shirts. Furthermore, she was the only member of the groom's party who wore a matching gray vest; after all, she was the Best Woman. Careful not to ruin the pleats in her pants or stain her shirt by leaning on a dusty, timber-framed doorway, she stood with her hands in her pockets. Waiting.

  Behind her, she could feel Elet. In the same gray pants and black wingtips, he paced the salon. He had circled the tables. He had peered outside. He had checked his watch. Having chosen his father's birthday as his wedding day, his mother had bestowed upon him his father's cufflinks. Guarding his arms for the first time, Elet spun them repeatedly inside the buttonholes. He stroked the round turquoise face and glided his calloused fingers over the diamond that dotted the center. Awaiting the start of his future, he massaged this treasure from his past.

  In a sudden contrast to his previous stillness, she heard him repeatedly patting his body. It was a new occurrence. First, he patted his chest and, then, his back pockets, as if he was looking for something. He never made mention of what he could not find. And, she didn't dare ask. When they had gotten dressed earlier, she had seen him tie his white tie and place it around his neck; but, now, standing in the doorway, she had heard him remove it, retie it, and return it to his neck. Yet, she never asked why. Nor did she ever offer to help. She knew that these moments were just segments of their sojourn.

  As the sun inched towards the horizon, they heard footsteps approaching. Jacqueline's head turned in the direction of the sound. As she did, Elet noticed her movement, approached from behind her, and stood, once more, at her side.

  "Are we ready?" It was the question they heard before they saw the person asking. Neither moved nor spoke. They had been directed to stay in the lounge until they were summoned and they had complied. "Jacqueline? Elet? Are you in there?"

  Elet leaned forward into the breezeway. Huffing and panting, an older woman in a royal blue suit with a large, fake rose in her silver hair charged towards him. It was Susan, the wedding planner. She was the one who had instructed them to remain there until she came for them. Elet retracted into their chamber to make room for her. Passing Jacqueline, she entered the lounge in a flurry. Then, with a thud, she fell into the closest leather chair.

  Still speaking, words blubbered out of her flushed face, "My goodness! What a busy day! There's always so much to do. So many people to talk to. So many people to handle. My God, I don't know if I could've handled it all. I mean, it was a breeze years ago when these ankles didn't swell like watermelons. But look at them. Just look at what they do now." She leaned down and rubbed the softball-sized, right one. "But, those brothers of yours have been such a blessing. Such a blessing."

  Again, she paused. This time, with a puff, she shifted her weight and scooted to the edge of the seat. The movement unleashed a sound that made Jacqueline and Elet lower their heads to hide their immature giggles.

  Looking at Elet, Susan went on as if she hadn't heard her chair ease a current of air between it and her, "My God, you remind me so much of your father." She paused as if to think of him. Then, as quickly as the thought carried her to some unspoken memory, she returned to them. "Well, we have to get you two ready. Let's do a once over. Jacqueline, come here. Front and center, young lady." Leaving Elet's side, she walked over to the chair where Susan was perched. She stood up straight and allowed the pudgy stranger to pull against her pants and button the last button of her vest. "Things look very nice, Jacqueline. I wasn't so sure I was gonna like the idea of a Best Woman. My Heavens, I wondered what you'd wear. A dress? A suit? A tie? But, this is nice. You have the pants and shoes to match the men, so it won't throw off the pictures, but you have this lovely blush..."

  "It's salmon," Jacqueline thought but said nothing.

  "Colored shirt. It makes the whole thing more feminine. It'll look nice in contrast to the men in their white shirts. And, you're in this vest and they're in their blush ties. Why this might be just perfect!" Jacqueline still said nothing. Noticing her silence, Susan inquired, "Are you okay, Jacqueline? You're as quiet as Elet. I expected him to be quiet, but I expected more talking from you. Are you feeling okay? I have some pills..."

  Susan was fishing around inside her jacket pocket when Jacqueline interrupted her. "No, I'm great."

  "Great?"

  "I don't know. I feel …. great."

  Susan cocked her head. She was uncertain how to respond. Rather than say anything, she shooed Jacqueline away and held her arms out for Elet. "You're up, young man. Bring your jacket."

  He placed his arms in his gray jacket as he headed towards her. She arose from the chair as if the pain had left her. Suddenly, young again, the chair didn't make a noise and Susan's ankle was rejuvenated. She slid his jacket from his shoulders, loosened his tie, and removed it from his neck. He didn't object to any of her movements. He couldn’t. He was mesmerized.

  As she spoke, they were beguiled. "Before your father and my husband passed away, the four of us. …me, my James,
and your parents used to meet here every weekend for tee time." She had placed the small end of the tie over the wide end to the left, then she went under the wide end and to the right. "Your father was so funny." Her hands moved through the neck loop and to the left. "And talented. He designed so much of this club that your parents stopped paying membership dues by the second year. That was unheard of in those days." She went down to the left and around the back of the wide end to the right. She kept that part loose. Then, she brought it across the front towards the left and through the loop. They watched as her hands performed a dance. "My James was an insurance agent. No real talent. Not like your father, the architect." She pulled the small end to tighten it. Then, she brought it up the center towards the neck loop. She took it down through the neck loop and to the left. It was a show, as if something was being created in their presence; and, the two remained captivated. "Every woman wants a talented man, a creative man." Back up the center to the neck loop. But, this time she went through the neck loop and to the right. Again, she kept it loose. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I loved my James with all my heart. He was a kind man, a good provider, a fair man. But, who doesn't love a little creativity." She went across the front side towards the left and through the loop made in the previous step. Holding it in her hands, Elet leaned forward. He’d become a dancer in her production, responding to her moves, anticipating how to respond. She placed the loop over his head, adjusted it under his collar, pulled the small end to tighten it, and tucked the rest of the small end behind the neck loop on the left side. "Creativity. That's what life is all about if you ask me." She said as patted him on his chest.

  Elet stepped back from her and crossed to the mirror. Jacqueline met him there. Side by side, the two stared at the knot in the mirror. It appeared braided as if it was hair. It had been done in their presence, but they could have never explained it. Jacqueline tuned sideways and looked directly at that knot resting on Elet's chest. Then, she looked back at Susan. Her face was full and lively. Youth was still in it. The perspiration that had covered her upon her arrival had become a sheen that glistened upon her face.

  Noticing them, Susan approached them from behind, "Do you like the Elderidge?" She watched as they nodded. "It's a classic knot. Men just don't bother like they used to." Then, she ushered them along, "Well then, my lovelies, are we ready?” She clasped her meaty hands together. “I think it's time to make your way. You look lovely. You smell lovely. And, I think you're both ready. Remember what I told you before." She wagged her sausage index finger at them, "We're gonna go out of here and head right. Stay on the wooden bridges. Walk around the Pavilion. You'll see the chairs. Remember your processional order. You can do this. Smile and enjoy today. It'll be over before you know it. Jacqueline, you lead." Then, she held out her hand and motioned them into the world.

  Neither hugged or thanked her. Neither said goodbye. Like good, little soldiers, they continued to do as she instructed. They exited the salon and headed right. Jacqueline was a few paces in front of Elet, but she could hear him behind her. As she walked, counting her paces as Susan had instructed them, she became aware that he was not counting his steps. She thought of speeding up, but she feared the consequences it might have on the ceremony. For a while, she walked ahead of him at a steady pace hoping he would slow down. She stayed on course, guiding them to the wedding site, but his pace continued to quicken. She knew at his speed he would overcome her, so she slowed her movements. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she knew he wasn't looking forward at her and knew he wouldn't notice that her pace had slowed until he was close to her. With a few feet between them, he double stepped to avoid knocking her over. But, in doing so, he stumbled. Fearing a ripped tuxedo and a bloodied groom, she whirled around and caught him before he fell. Having avoided a tragedy, the two burst out in laughter. She was facing him with her arms around his side, holding him close as they laughed with tears pooling in the corners of their eyes.

  The ruckus lasted a few minutes. Then, she released him and glanced around to make certain they hadn’t made too large of a scene. With the all clear, she straightened her clothes and waited as he did the same, then their trek continued. Along the wooden path, over mini bridges that were decorated with rose petals, the two walked. Non-wedding goers stared, yelled congratulatory wishes, smiled, and waved. But, the two plodded along giving very little thought to the walk until they rounded the final corner.

  The Pavilion wasn't just a banquet facility to be used for weddings and formal events. It was designed by a former Whispering Pines Club Member who was an architect. It was the signature sign of luxury for the Club. With wood beam ceilings, vast glass windows, double wall fireplaces, the Pavilion sat at the center of the property. On its north side, there was a manmade lake. On its south side, there were fountains, lush trees, elegant cabanas, wooden bridges, and the outdoor terrace. As it came into view, Jacqueline knew that the time was upon them. She gulped a good deal of evening air. Its crispness surprised her. She had forgotten that this was an evening in early December. While the weather was a pleasant sixty-four degrees, it had rained the day before. The lively fall air was proof that the Florida winter chill was on its way. As they walked along the side of the Pavilion, she could smell the hors d'oeuvres for the cocktail hour that they would not attend. She felt her stomach rumble, but she heard his stomach scream. They both chuckled but plodded along.

  Once they rounded the Pavilion, she heard the music. There was a violinist strumming a tune Jacqueline did not know. She turned her head to listen, but she could not place it. She knew it wasn't Bach. And, after a few notes, she decided it wasn't Handel. But, she couldn't place who it was. She thought it might be a contemporary arrangement then, arrogantly, she chuckled at the very idea.

  She discarded thoughts of the music as she proceeded to the end of the sidewalk alongside the Pavilion. Walking down the Pavilion steps onto to the green, she was at the start of the processional aisle. She recognized that Mrs. Walden, Elet's mother, and Levi, Elet's soon-to-be nephew, were halfway down the path. That was her cue to descend onto the terrace and to begin her own journey. Proceeding with her left foot, she went down the steps and, then, up the aisle. Guests turned to face her. Some she knew, some she didn't know, but, as she passed them, she thought of how wonderful it was that they had come. These were the people that mattered to Alex and Elet; and, when the couple had asked for support, these were the people who came to give it. She'd never thought of a wedding in quite that way and the weight of that fact overwhelmed her.

  As she walked between the seated mothers of the bride and groom, her eyes were affixed on the wedding arch. It sat perfectly at the top of the stairs overlooking the lawn at the rear of the Pavilion. The arch had been the source of so much confusion, so many tears, so much heartache, but, as it sat at the top of the steps, decorated in roses, it was to be the shelter for an unforgettable moment. As Jacqueline walked up the steps, her face was warm and her heart was full. She wanted to enter. She wanted to stand near it and rub the koa that had travelled around the globe to be here, but, as practiced, she did not enter. She walked to the outer post, then she turned to face the guests and watch as Elet approached.

  With his hands in his pockets, she smiled as he headed towards her. But, she noticed that something seemed wrong. He didn’t look as they had practiced with Susan. Too much of his white shirt was showing underneath his jacket. As he jogged up the stairs, she realized what was wrong and she murmured, "Stop holding your breath." Then, she smiled as she heard him exhale.

  For Jacqueline, the highlight of the wedding was not going to be watching her friend, Elet's bride, Alexandra Stevens, head down the aisle. Jacqueline had been waiting to see Mallory in her gown. She hadn't let Jacqueline see her dress or any of the other bridesmaids' dresses. She had banned it as if the two of them were getting married. The suspense had been unbearable. Alex had assured Jacqueline that it was not an amazing dress and she was bound to be let down, but the anxiety had been overwhe
lming. And, here was the moment. Elet was there. She was there. Mallory was next.

  The sun was aching for the horizon. Sunlight gleamed across the sky and its rays made Mallory's naturally crimson locks shimmer. Squinting to see her, Jacqueline leaned forward, nearly falling off the step as she watched Mallory grab the side of her dress to prevent it from dragging along the ground. Being escorted by Dominic, Alex's brother-in-law, the two were in unison. Left foot. Right foot. Jacqueline was drawn to meet her under the arch. She saw her in the simple dress but thought she looked magnificent. Of course, it was salmon-colored and matched Jacqueline's shirt perfectly. It was a bridesmaid's dress, which, by its very nature is simple and not intended to upstage the bride's dress. It was a long, slip dress with a ruched bodice, but it flowed everywhere it was supposed to and hung close to all the places on Mallory's body that Jacqueline loved. The sight of Mallory in the dress, walking up the wedding aisle, had rendered Jacqueline both speechless and nauseous. When Mallory and her escort stopped on the bottom step, Mallory mouthed I love you. And, Jacqueline melted. She wanted to run down the stairs, wrap her in her arms, kiss her, and stand beside her. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else. She hadn't noticed the arrival of Paige, their friend, and Reese, Elet's middle brother or Josephine, Alex's sister, and Silas, Elet's youngest brother. Jacqueline stared at Mallory. She moved her head in various positions to catch a glimpse of her.

  She would have continued to stare if Elet hadn't caught her attention. As Olive, the maid of honor, proceeded up the aisle, Jacqueline felt a hand in her pocket. It was Elet. She turned to face him. Confused, she placed her hand in her pocket after he removed his from it. Then, she felt it. The ring. He had placed Alex's ring in her pocket. The maid of honor had arrived. The ring-bearers were nearly up the steps and the flower girls had begun their trek. Jacqueline looked up at Elet and smiled, but she had waited too late. He was no longer looking at her. The quartet had started to play Wagner.