Chapter Six
Beverly
I’m as giggly as the posse of kindergarten girls sharing a colorful book in the corner of my classroom, my cheeks aching from continuously smiling.
All week long, Ridge and I have been texting back and forth while he’s been filming at the Atlanta studio on the south side of town.
We started out sharing our obligatory favorites: books, movies, pizza flavors, and vacation destinations.
You know, the familiar and easy questions you go through when you’re getting to know someone.
It’s been adorable, especially when I mentioned one of his earlier films was my most-watched and go-to comfort movies when I’m lonely.
But I’d have to say his daily good morning texts have been the best, immediately brightening each day.
I mean, who wouldn’t go ga-ga over Ridge Wilson texting you first thing, even before you’ve had your coffee?
I also love the little questions and glimpses into his world he’s shared in between takes while he’s been on set:
What did you eat for lunch?
Is the weather always this nice in Atlanta?
Craft Services offered shrimp and grits for dinner. I could get used to this!
Arthur announced he has a nickname for you: Lovely. He’s right, you know.
My face turned the color of a ripe tomato after I read that last one, and my students wondered if I was okay.
I wanted to tell them I was more than okay—that I’m smitten with a famous Hollywood actor.
But unless these kiddos saw Ridge on the big screen as a Power Ranger or a superhero, they’re all too young to understand.
I text him little quips about my day too:
Timmy wet his pants again.
The cafeteria reeks of boiled hot dogs.
What is it about kindergarten boys and rocks in their pockets?
Wishing you were sitting in your little corner of the library today so I could see you.
Thankfully, throughout the week, we’ve also been able to chat on the phone, usually late at night once he’s back at his hotel. Our conversations have grown deeper over the last few days. We’ve talked about our faith in God, family dynamics, and our hopes and dreams.
He told me he was an only child, born and raised in Austin, Texas, his parents working in academia at the University.
After his father died when Ridge was only eight, his mother started dating one of Mr. Wilson’s much younger colleagues from the school.
Apparently, at the time, it was a massive scandal—an older woman with a younger man.
Ridge told me they ended up getting married, and how he has enjoyed having a loving stepfather for most of his life.
I reminded him that this was a prime example of a happy ending, to which he scoffed.
And for some reason, his story made me especially happy. Probably because my own eccentric mother recently remarried and seems happier than she’s ever been. I hope that I, too, can forge a loving relationship with my stepfather, Mike.
I was candid and told Ridge I want to live in Heartsboro near my sister someday. That I want to raise my own little family in the country. I want to adopt a kitten and sit in a rocking chair on a wide-plank front porch with a magnificent view of my very own vegetable garden.
He said, “You deserve everything and anything you want in this life, Beverly.”
Gah! The man knows how to make a girl swoon. And yes, he said it exactly like you’d hear him on the big screen: voice low and deep. Husky. Sexy.
Thank goodness Ridge finally has a night off. As much as I’d love to be seen on his arm at a fancy restaurant in the city, we both agreed it would be better if we had dinner at a more private location.
My place.
He insisted Arthur could arrange for food to be delivered so I wouldn’t have to cook, but my sister’s voice kept reverberating through my head, “I think he’d be grateful for a taste of something homemade. You know, comfort food.”
I mean, why not? My banana bread was a huge hit with him.
Why not make some of my homemade cornbread and chili?
Don’t most men love a good batch of beans and meat?
Besides, the brilliant autumn weather has unfortunately taken a turn for the worse, with the seasonal rains coming in and bringing colder temperatures, gloomy skylines, and piles of wet leaves.
Chili and cornbread are the perfect comfort foods on a day like today.
“Do you have an appetizer?” Madison asks me. I have her on speaker phone while I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, swiping mascara across my eyelashes.
“Yes, of course. I put together a small charcuterie board with all the essentials. You know, pimento cheese, grapes, Gouda, summer sausage, and crackers. Oh, and I cut up some of those Gala apples my neighbor brought over last week from their trip to the Apple Festival in Ellijay.”
“Perfect. What about cocktails? Does he drink?”
I screw the cap back on my mascara tube and start unpinning the curlers from my head.
“You know what? I never asked him. I just assume all Hollywood actors drink. He had an entire bar cart loaded with everything in his trailer. But don’t worry, I’ve got the basics, including beer, which definitely goes best with my chili. ”
“You got that right. And you’re sure he’s not vegan or watching his gluten intake? Some of those Hollywood actors take severe measures to keep their bodies in shape.”
I laugh and finger-comb my hair back from my face. “Definitely not. We texted about all those things this week. He’s a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Texas born and bred.”
“What about dessert? You gotta have dessert.”
“My chocolate cupcakes with the homemade frosting, of course.”
“Of course.”
I look at my reflection and smile. “Maddy, I’m so excited.”
“I know you are.”
My smile fades as another random thought enters my mind. I pucker my lips to the side. “I want to offer him a homemade meal and a safe place to unwind, where he can be himself.”
“You are.”
“But…,” I pause, knowing my sister can read between the lines.
“But it’s your home, and you’re wondering about after supper. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I manage to squeak. “I mean, a kiss would be incredible.” I roll my eyes with pleasure just thinking about it. “But I couldn’t…”
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Madison interrupts.
I sigh. “I want my first time to be with the man I’m married to. My husband.”
Just hearing those words come out of my mouth makes me press my eyes shut.
I’m not a prude; I’ve just always believed in saving myself for the one.
What an incredible gift to offer my future husband.
I know most folks might call me old-fashioned, but it’s something I’ve held on to well into my thirties, and I’m not about to cave now, not even for a hunky, famous movie star.
“It will be, Bevy.”
“I know. Ridge is a total gentleman, but he’s been linked to several glamorous actresses over the years. I mean, how many women do you think he’s been with?”
“Don’t go there, Beverly.”
“He’s famous, wealthy, and gorgeous. He’s been dubbed People magazine’s Most Eligible Bachelor. Maddy, he’s close to forty years old. I’ll bet you all the money in my savings he’s not a virgin like me.”
Maddy laughs. “If you think Ridge Wilson is a virgin, then you’ve been living under a rock.”
I laugh in reply. “I’m not going to think about it anymore. I just want to enjoy his company. The man can talk for hours. And believe it or not, we have so much in common.”
“You want to know what I think?” Madison asks.
“Spill it, sistah.”
“I think tonight is going to be wonderful. I’m glad you met Ridge Wilson, and that you get to spend some quality time with him. He sounds amazing. But if you feel like things are going south, excuse yourself to the bathroom and give me a call, okay?”
My cheeks heat with a smile, knowing my sister has always looked out for me.
“I will.”
“Now, go put some music on the stereo and light your candles.”
“How do you know I have candles that need lighting?” I tease.
“Because I know you better than anyone. You’re my most romantic sister.”
“Ha! I’m your only sister.”
“That too. And for the record, I’d do just about anything to bottle up this happiness you’ve been feeling.”
I have been incredibly happy this week. Between Ridge’s good morning texts, our late-night phone conversations, and planning this meal, I’ve been happier than ever.
“You’re sweet.”
“And I love you.”
“Love you right back, Maddy.”