“Just safe?” her mother asked.

“Oh, Mom, I’m not settling for Matt, please never think that. Matt is like a dream come true, a man and husband I was never wise enough to long for.”

“Just tell me you’re completely over Mick,” Sue begged in a tense whisper.

Poor Mom, Ginger thought. The whole family thought she’d lost her mind when she brought home this musician, this wannabe star. “I don’t blame you for having doubts about my ability to make a sane decision after what I put all of you through. I’d love to explain it—it was all the glitter that he promised me day after bloody day. The irony is—I don’t even like a lot of glitter! I wanted it for him. If he fulfilled all those dreams, it would mean I’d been right to believe in him. But I wasn’t,” she said. “He lived in such a crazy dream world. It took me too long to realize it was nothing but pipe dreams, nothing but smoke and mirrors. Am I over him? Mom, the shock of reality is not only permanent, it’s a little hard to live with. I wish I’d been wide-awake much sooner.”

She was not only over Mick, she was certain he was completely over her. By now he had certainly found someone to share his fantasies. “You’ll see, Matt is nothing like that. He comes from a large, hardworking family that values commitment and loyalty, fidelity and sound judgment. They’re steadfast. Genuine and completely sincere.” She laughed. “Also loud, a little crazy and noble.”

Ginger went down the list of Matt’s siblings, each one she had met and those she only knew about, all so different, from medical practitioner to public relations specialist to vintner to PhD candidate. “I think only his youngest sister married in the culture. Her husband is a Basque chef in San Francisco.”

“They’re not the easiest people to negotiate with,” Sue said. “But they’re good to their word. Maybe you’ll end up with some good Basque recipes.”

“Maybe so. But I bet not a day before we’re married,” Ginger said.

Her brother Richard had the largest home in the family and wanted to host the barbecue to officially introduce Matt to everyone. It almost rivaled a Lacoumette family gathering, it was that busy and loud. Ginger’s sisters-in-law, Beth and Melissa, provided almost all the food with Dick buying excellent meat for the grill and Sue providing dessert that she bought because she was not into cooking or baking at all. The men all knew Matt and had dealt with Matt, George and Paco when negotiating trucking contracts for their crops but they were meeting a social Lacoumette this time, not a shrewd businessman.

The conversation was reduced to jests about business associates socializing together as in-laws.

“I suppose the elder Lacoumette will begin to take into consideration that we’re now family when we write our next contract,” Dick Dysart said. “Or maybe he’ll hire an agent to do his negotiating.”

“I think you’ll be lucky if Paco doesn’t insist on driving the trucks,” Matt said. “He’s a very hands-on businessman. My advice? Look at his own truck before you even consider the idea. It’s a hundred years old.”

“We know he has plenty of money, Matt,” Richard said. “He’s getting it from us and our low prices!”

“Is that a fact? Paco said you robbed him blind!”

Ginger, who had never been a part of the trucking business, learned something. These men were happy to have come to terms that satisfied them and allowed them to call each other thieves. It was an old and time-honored system.

There were four kids, still enjoying the backyard pool, ranging in age from five to twelve. Her brothers each had a boy and a girl. The food was wonderful, the day passed with everyone in great spirits and the proposed union of Dysart and Lacoumette was heartily and genuinely approved.

It was late in the day when everyone was cleaning up and packing up to say their goodbyes that Sue took Ginger aside. She pulled her around the corner of the family room of Richard’s large house. They stood in a dimly lit hallway and Sue said, “I don’t want to do this but I won’t keep secrets from you. Mick got in touch with me. He doesn’t know where you are, which I believe is what you want. He says he’s in a crisis and needs to talk to you. It’s urgent, he says, and you’re the only person who will understand, who can help him, and he asked me to have you call him.”

“What kind of crisis?” she asked.

Sue shook her head. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me another thing.”

“Is he sick?”

“He wouldn’t say. Your father is angry—he told me not to tell you anything about it. But I won’t lie. What if he just wants money?”

“Mom, I’m not going to give Mick money. I’m a slow learner but I’m not that slow.”

“Thank God,” Sue said. “Then you won’t call him?”

“Of course I’ll call him. Nothing is ever urgent with him—unless he wants to tell someone that he just got a personal call from Bruce Springsteen. But you know Mick would’ve told you that. I’ll find out what he wants. I’m sure it’ll be a simple matter to tell him to go away, that I don’t care about his plans or his concerts, that I’m not giving him anything, that I’m no longer in any way attached to him.”

“Don’t call him, Ginger!” Sue said. “Don’t even tempt fate.”

“Mom, I’m not the simple idiot I was when I was with Mick. He can’t threaten me or manipulate me anymore. Maybe he wants to make amends. That would be positive. Closure would be good. But I’ll make sure he’s not dying.”

“What if he is dying?” Sue asked.

“Still,” Ginger said. “I would be sorry to hear that but we’re not together and we haven’t been for a long time.”

“Don’t, Ginger. Don’t talk to him.”

“I’m not afraid of him, Mom. I’ll call him. I’ll give him as much as ten minutes.”

Suddenly there was Matt, standing in the hallway. Looming in the hallway, bigger somehow. Broader. His face scowling. It was Mad Matt.

“No,” he said. “No.”

Sixteen

Ginger wouldn’t let Matt say any more while in her brother’s house. Once they were in his truck she turned in her seat to stare at him. He was still frowning.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, but his expression was angry. He knew. Damn it, he knew!

“You tell me no? No, I can’t return a call if I choose to? Seriously?”

“To your ex-husband? The man who ripped your heart out without a second thought?” he asked. “Yes, I’m serious!”

She thought maybe he was driving a little faster, his hands gripping the wheel. “We’ll talk about this when we get back to your apartment,” she said.

It was a quick trip back to Matt’s home. It was a perfectly adequate one-bedroom apartment but there were obvious reasons why he wasn’t comfortable there. For one thing, once his wife had taken what she wanted, he hadn’t bothered to replace much. The bedroom set, a very masculine and heavy bed and dressers, he had purchased for himself after the apartment was nearly emptied of furniture. He had a TV and sectional but all the things that made a house a home were missing. There was one picture on one wall, the other walls blank but sporting the nails pictures had hung on. There was one bedroom lamp, one living room lamp, there were no accents or throws or plants or baskets of papers or magazines. There was a bookshelf filled with only the books he might care about—agriculture and science-related textbooks. They hadn’t spent much time there, hadn’t prepared any real meals there, but she’d been there long enough to notice dishes and glassware were not in great supply.