Married for Christmas (Willow Park) (9 page)

“I don’t know. I really don’t know what he’s thinking.”

Daniel looked discouraged, so she reached out to put a hand
on his knee.

They sat in silence for a moment, but then she pulled her
hand back when he shifted. “Eat your salad,” she said, pushing the container
toward him.

He made a face at her, but she gave him a steely glare so he
obediently started to eat.

“Speaking of the choir,” he said, “you should think about
joining.”

Her eyes widened. “Me? Why?”

“Because they can use some more members. I think you’d enjoy
it.”

“I can’t be part of a choir.”

“Why not? You’ve got a good voice.” When she opened her
mouth to object, he spoke over her. “I heard you. Remember? At the reception.”

“Yeah, but…” She trailed off, mostly because she didn’t have
a good excuse.

“It might be good for you.”

“Why would it be good for me?” She was starting to feel a
familiar defensiveness. She didn’t like the idea that Daniel might think she
wasn’t doing everything she needed to do as a pastor’s wife, when she’d been
going out of her way for the first couple of days to fill the role.

“Because you like to sing and you can contribute. And
because you have a tendency to hide.”

“I do not have a tendency to hide.” Now she was feeling
defensive for another reason. She hated it when he brought this topic up, and
it didn’t matter whether he was right or not. She hated the idea of having
everyone stare at her and listen to her in the choir.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’m not a super-social person, but I don’t hide. I talk to
people plenty.”

“So then the choir wouldn’t be a big deal for you.” He
twitched his eyebrows at her, in a way that was supposed to get her to smile.

She rolled her eyes at him instead of smiling.

“What’s that look for?”

“That’s for you being annoying.”

He chuckled. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Right.”

“So are you going to do it or not?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“They practice on Wednesday evenings. Just for an hour.”

“I said I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” He paused for a beat. “Do I get any of those
cookies?”

She passed the bag to him, muttering, “Not that you deserve
them.”

Maybe Daniel thought she needed to be more involved in the
church, participate in a lot of activities because she was married to him.
Maybe the rest of the congregation expected it too, and he didn’t want her to
give them any reason to doubt he was a good fit. If she needed to, she would do
it—whether she wanted to or not.

She was getting up to leave a little while later when Daniel
said, “Oh, Martha said she was bringing by a casserole this afternoon.”

“Why is she bringing a casserole?”

“Just being nice, I think.”

“But why do we need a casserole? We’re not sick or
anything.”

“What’s the big deal? She’s trying to be nice. I think
they’ve arranged to bring us dinners all week.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making something for dinner.”

She actually
wasn’t
perfectly capable of cooking
dinner, but she was certainly planning to try. And it made her feel stupid and
helpless that the ladies of the church had evidently decided she needed extra
help—that she wasn’t equipped to even be a normal wife, much less a pastor’s
wife.

“What are you so sensitive about? People are trying to be
nice.”

“I know.” She bit back her initial response, since she knew
it was irrational, but it bothered her unduly.

She’d wanted a husband and family and now she had one, thanks
to Daniel. She wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. She was going to be a
good wife, and in a traditional community like this, part of that role involved
cooking dinner—at least some of the time. She couldn’t even try if all the
church ladies insisted on bringing over dinner.

She was still bothered when she went to spend the afternoon
at her mother’s nursing facility, working on her laptop while her mom dozed and
then taking her outside for a walk when she was awake.

And she was still bothered when Martha came by late that
afternoon with an entire delicious meal and stayed for an hour to chat and
repeat the preparation directions six times.

The poppy seed chicken casserole, salad, rolls, and
chocolate cake were wonderful, of course, and Jessica tried to feel grateful
for it as she and Daniel ate at the kitchen table that evening.

There were even leftovers for them to eat for lunch the next
day.

She didn’t feel as grateful as she should.

Jessica could be a decent pastor’s wife. She was sure she
could. If anyone would let her try.

She was about to suggest Daniel go with her on Bear’s
evening walk, but he disappeared outside to his workshop immediately after
dinner.

He didn’t come back in until bedtime.

Jessica took another shower before bed, and Daniel was
reading again when she emerged.

But this time he didn’t put his book down.

Jessica woke up trapped.

She gasped in surge of panic as she tried to move but
couldn’t. She was pinned in place.

As her mind gradually cleared from sleep, she realized it
was Saturday morning, and she was imprisoned by the covers.

When she opened her eyes, she realized why.

Bear must have jumped on the bed sometime during the night.
The dog was stretched out between Jessica and the edge of the bed, holding down
the covers simply by lying on them.

Jessica wriggled until she’d created enough slack to turn
over and then realized Daniel was holding down the other side. He’d rolled over
so he was facing her, and somehow the covers had gotten tucked under his body.

Jessica squirmed some more, yanking the covers on Daniel’s
side, since she groggily reasoned he’d be easier to move than the dog.

He huffed, shifted slightly, and clung to the covers.

She pulled even harder and freed them from his weight, the
momentum of the pull causing him to roll over onto his back.

With a groan of relief, Jessica readjusted, giving herself
more space by moving onto his side.

“Wha’sat,” he mumbled, reaching out for her and pulling her
to his side under the covers.

Jessica was perfectly amenable to this scenario, and she
snuggled up against his warm, relaxed body.

“Y’okay?” he asked, fitting her against him, sounding barely
more awake than he’d been before.

“Yeah. Just trapped by the covers.” She wrapped an arm
around his bare belly and let out a long exhale.

“Huh?”

“I was trapped between you and Bear.”

“Oh.” His hand stroked her hair, although he still seemed
mostly asleep. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Good. You feel nice.”

She slanted her eyes up in surprise and saw that his eyes
were still closed. “So do you.”

“You feel nicer than me.” He seemed to be almost smiling,
although she had no idea how close he was to being awake.

She smiled back. “We’ll have to agree to disagree about
that.”

He let out a thick exhale and pulled her closer, so she was
practically lying on top of him. She felt him kiss her hair, and her heart melted
a little in her chest.

Then he mumbled, “Wanted to hold you…like this…long time.”

A surge of affection and excitement heightened the
tenderness. She stroked his rough jaw, her cheek pressed against his chest. She
was afraid to say anything—afraid he would wake up and wouldn’t be so soft and
clingy, afraid everything would change.

“Jessica,” he murmured, still stroking her hair down her
back.

“Hmm?” She shifted just slightly and realized he was hard.
She could feel his arousal against her belly.

His hand slid down until he was cupping her bottom, pushing
her weight against his groin. “Honey.” The one word was almost a groan.

She moaned softly in response, growing aroused as much from
the emotions she was feeling as from the feel of his hard body against hers.
She squirmed against him, trying to generate deeper sensations.

He released a long, guttural sound, pressing her more
tightly against him.

Then a loud clatter startled her so much she gasped.

Daniel jerked, jarred suddenly awake. “What was that?”

“Bear jumped off the bed,” Jessica explained, her voice
hoarse and a clench of disappointment in her gut.

He’d been half-asleep before. Things would be different now
that he was fully awake. She knew it. She
knew
it. He’d be more like
he’d been all this week.

“What was she doing on the bed?” He gave a soft groan as he
pushed himself up to a sitting position, gently dislodging Jessica in the
process.

“I don’t know. She must have gotten cold or something and
jumped up during the night.”

“Okay.” He rubbed his face urgently and glanced over at
Jessica, who was flushed and sprawled out in the middle of the bed.

He looked away from her quickly, taking a strange,
shuddering breath. “I better take a shower.”

Jessica watched him walk, slightly stiffly, to the bathroom.
Then she exhaled in resignation.

She glanced at the clock. It was just after five. A yummy
interlude of sex was obviously not on the agenda this morning.

***

Jessica was ready early to go out to
dinner so she sat on the edge of the bed near her nightstand and had a texted
conversation with Kim.

She gave her friend some updates on the week and tried very
hard not to whine about Daniel, which was what she really wanted to do.

The week had been okay—just not what Jessica had imagined
when she’d envisioned herself married. Daniel had been friendly and
considerate, but he’d spent most of the week at the church, in his study, or in
the workshop. The women of the church brought them dinner every day—all of it
far better than anything Jessica was capable of preparing herself. And they
hadn’t had sex. Not when they’d seemed close to it early this morning. Not at
all.

Not since their wedding night. Exactly a week ago.

It was honestly rather annoying. She would never have expected
them to have a week-long sexathon, but she’d assumed Daniel would want to have
sex again,
sometime
during the week.

He hadn’t mentioned it at all—not given her the slightest
hint that he was interested, except for being hard that morning, which must have
just been a physical response. She’d thought he’d enjoyed the one time they’d
been together, but maybe it had just been a release, after going so long
without, and it wasn’t good enough to compel him to try it again anytime soon.

She tried not to brood on it. If she’d been more confident
of her sexual abilities, she might have brought it up herself. But it was too
new to her. She was too inexperienced. And she simply couldn’t bring herself to
ask for sex from a man who might not even be interested.

If she’d felt close to him in other ways, then going without
sex wouldn’t have been that big a deal. But, no matter how nice he’d been this
week, he’d still felt kind of distant. She couldn’t exactly nail down what he
was doing differently—other than spending a lot of time away from her—but she
knew he was closing himself off. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t sure what
she could do about it.

She didn’t want to complain. They didn’t have a normal
marriage, so she shouldn’t expect him to hang out with her all the time. But
she’d felt closer to him
before
they got married.

She didn’t tell any of this to Kim, though. She thought marriage
issues should stay in the marriage, even in a strange, half-marriage like she
and Daniel had.

Daniel had been working in the yard most of the afternoon,
cutting back overgrown tree branches and then working again in the workshop. About
fifteen minutes ago, she’d gone out to tell him he needed to start to get dressed
or he wouldn’t be ready when Will and Holly came to pick them up. He wouldn’t
let her into the workshop, and he wouldn’t tell her when she asked what he was
working on.

He just said, “I’ve got a few different projects going on,”
which was a very annoying non-answer.

 He’d rushed through a shower and now emerged from the
bathroom wearing only a pair of black trousers.

His broad shoulders, fine chest, flat stomach, and lean hips
made her gulp.

“Who are you texting?” he asked.

“Kim.” She wrote out one last text and set the phone down.

“How’s she doing?”

“Fine. Still dating that guy.”

“How’s it going?” He spoke through the fabric of the t-shirt
he was pulling on over his head.

“Okay, I guess. She’s not really sure what he’s thinking.
About the relationship, I mean.”

“It’s not a good sign when the woman doesn’t know what the
man is thinking. If he’s really serious about it, she would know.”

Jessica tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “Should I tell
her that?”

He raised his eyebrows at her slightly snide tone. “No. I
was just saying.” He picked up a gray dress shirt from the bed where he’d
thrown it earlier and pulled it on over his shoulders. “Is everything all right
with you?”

His dark eyes were questioning, slightly concerned.

“Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Her tone was supposed
to be calm and reasonable, but she didn’t quite pull it off. She just couldn’t
get rid of her bad mood.

He didn’t pursue the subject, which was probably a good
thing, since she might have snapped his head off if he had.

He was tucking in his shirt when he asked, “How has your mom
been this week?”

Jessica really didn’t need to think about that. She gave a
faint shrug.

“Not good?”

She shook her head. “I thought having me close, so I could
see her every day, would help, but it was a really bad week. She didn’t know
who I was today. Even in the morning.”

Despite her best efforts, her voice cracked on the last
word.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She gave another shrug, managing not to mutter that he
hadn’t bothered to ask.

Jessica felt a little like crying, but she wasn’t going to
do it. For one thing, she’d actually put on a little mascara for the evening,
and she wasn’t going to mess it up.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said, genuinely sympathy in
his tone. He slid on a belt as he spoke. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask about her
before.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to ask about her. I’ll tell you
if anything important happens.”

She didn’t want him to do anything for her out of
obligation. She only wanted what he wanted to give her.

Which evidently wasn’t much.

She shook her head slightly, brushing off the unfair
thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the one who’d had unrealistic
expectations about what marriage would be like and so was disappointed that
hers wasn’t living up to them. It wasn’t right to take her disappointment out
on Daniel.

“Your mom has had some bad spells before, right, and she’s
bounced back?”

“Yeah. But eventually she isn’t going to bounce back.”

This might be the time her mom wasn’t going to bounce back. The
thought caused a sickening clench in her gut.

Bear came loping into the room just then. She’d been
gobbling up her dinner in the kitchen, but must have finished and come to find
her people. She walked over to the bed, and Jessica bent over to pet her, taking
comfort, as always, in the soft hair and the adoring eyes.

When she looked up at Daniel, she saw he was standing perfectly
still, one arm in the jacket he’d been pulling on, and he was gazing at her
steadily.

It was impossible to miss the expression of empathy in his
eyes.

Jessica wiped at her eye before the tear fell. “I’m fine.
Maybe she’ll be better next week.”

She cleared her throat and was relieved when he broke the
gaze and pulled his jacket all the way on.

She absently wiped a white hair from Bear off her good black
pants. They were having dinner tonight with a couple from the church, and it
was at a fancy restaurant in a larger city about forty minutes away. It was a
kind of Christmas gift from the couple to her and Daniel.

Jessica would much rather have gotten a gift card. Dressing
up and going out to eat was the last thing she wanted to do after the week
she’d had. She’d been planning to try to cook dinner herself, since a church
lady had brought over an egg casserole and fruit salad for breakfast, which
meant they were on their own for dinner.

But instead she had to go out—and sit in the backseat of
someone else’s car for forty minutes there and back to get there.

She knew Holly—who worked in a department store a couple of
towns over—would be dressed to the nines, but Jessica was feeling so blah today
that she couldn’t muster the energy to wear a skirt. So she’d worn her black
pants with a black silk shell that was made to look like it laced up the front
and a wine-colored cardigan that looked a little festive.

When she glanced over at Daniel, he was putting on his watch.
“You can’t wear that jacket,” she said, noticing something immediately.

He glanced down. “Why not?”

“It’s got a stain on it.”

“It’s black.”

“Even so.” She walked over and pointed out the obvious stain
just under the pocket.

The jacket was getting pretty old anyway. He’d been wearing
it for years—since well before Lila died.

Almost every piece of clothing he owned had been picked out
by Lila. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him in something new.

He made a grumbling sound under his breath, but he took the
jacket off. “Do you think I’ll be okay without a jacket?”

“I don’t know. It’s a pretty snotty place. They might try to
give you one before they let you in.” She went to look at his clothes in the
closet.

“I’ve got that old corduroy—”

“No. You can’t wear that.” She sorted through his collection
of jackets—most of which were looking rather rough. He still had decent suits
for Sunday, but not much else.

“I don’t really want to wear a suit,” he said, coming to
stand beside her and inspect his wardrobe.

“Here,” she said, finding a perfectly fine black jacket in
the back of the closet.

“The button fell off.” He pulled the button out of the
pocket, where he’d obviously put it before he’d stuffed the jacket at the back
of the closet.

She shook her head. “There’s a fairly simple solution to
that dilemma.”

She wasn’t crafty or domestic at all. She didn’t sew or embroider
or any of the old-fashioned skills that many women still mastered in Willow
Park.

But she could at least manage to sew on a button.

“We don’t have time,” he said, when she found a little
needle and thread kit in one of her dresser drawers.

“It will take two minutes. Your choices are to wait for the
button or wear a suit.”