Promise Me A Rainbow (49 page)

“Are you . . . sure, Joe? Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes, Catherine! That’s the only thing I
am
sure of. Now say you’re going to do it. It’s the best thing for all of us—even Della.”

She drew a long breath and looked into his eyes. “All right.”

“All right? You mean yes?”

“Yes.”

Yes. It was a little tremulous but it was definitely
yes.

He laughed out loud and grabbed her up off the floor, hugging her to him and making her squeal. “Hot damn!” he cried. “Wait till the shotgun committee hears this!”

Jonathan hadn’t arrived. She thought Joe’s invitation had done wonders for Jonathan’s understanding of why she’d let
his
wedding pass her by. But even without Jonathan the church was filling nicely. Mrs. Webber had come. And most of the Mayfair tenants. Catherine smiled, thinking of Mrs. Webber and her announcement that it was
she
who had brought all this about. Perhaps she had. She and the gnomes.

“Here comes your crew,” Joe said, and she smiled at the group of girls coming up the church steps. His “crew” would be coming, too, and she’d been both surprised and pleased at Joe’s insistence that her class be invited—even before she could mention it herself.

“Maria and Beatrice have brought their babies,” she said unnecessarily, delighted that they had. They both had baby girls, and both, with Sasha’s permission, had named their daughters Treasure, in honor of Sasha’s lost child.

“Let me see,” Catherine said to Maria, who approached first. She reached out to touch the tiny baby girl Maria held protectively in her arms. “She’s beautiful, Maria.” She looked into Maria’s eyes. “How’s it going?”

“Okay, Ms. Holben. I got a social worker popping in on me every time I turn around, but it’s okay. Ms. Holben, you look pretty.”

“Thank you, Maria. I’m glad you came.”

She greeted Beatrice and her Treasure, and then Abby and Cherry, who were both very close to their delivery dates. And Sasha, who poked Joe on the arm and gave him a hug. And Grandmamma, whose hat was white in honor of the occasion.

Catherine was about to introduce her to Joe but he took the matter out of her hands.

“Hello, Grandmamma,” he said solemnly.

“Joe,” she responded with equal seriousness.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Yes, you are,” she assured him, and he grinned.

Catherine had her lips pursed to ask how they knew each other, but she didn’t get the chance, because Grandmamma hugged her.

“How do you like it?” Grandmamma asked her. “The sun shining on your back door?” She rolled her eyes toward Joe.

“I like it,” Catherine said, smiling. “I like it just fine.”

Grandmamma reached up to pat her on the cheek. She nodded toward Abby and Cherry. “You say your vows fast, sweet thing. You don’t want to spend this day delivering babies.”

“I will,” Catherine promised. “I’m going to leave that to you and Dr. Clarkson.”

She waited until Grandmamma had moved on. “Where in the world did you meet Sasha’s grandmother?” she asked Joe.

“Oh,” he said airily, “around.”

“Around where?”

“You know, I knew you were going to ask me that.”

“Joe, where?”

“She sort of . . . came out to the building site to see me.”

“Grandmamma Higgins?” Catherine said incredulously.

“That’s the one,” Joe assured her. “And the rest of them.”

“The rest of whom?”

“The rest of your baby chicks. The whole brood.” He grinned. “They came out packed tighter than sardines in a red Volkswagen. The crew’s still talking about it.”

Catherine looked away, then back at him. “I’m not going to ask what they said,” she decided, and he grinned. Whatever it had been, he didn’t seem to hold it against her.

“Here’s somebody you’ll be glad to see,” he said, and she looked around. Pat was making her way slowly up the steps, looking better than she had in weeks.

Catherine hurried to take her by the hand. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

“Well, the blood count was a lot better yesterday and the groom sent somebody to pick me up. So, here I am.” She grinned at Joe. “For a filthy beast, you are one more hunk,” she said, and he laughed.

“Thanks, Pat,” he said. “What can I do but try?” he added philosophically.

Catherine smiled, wondering when Pat had upgraded Joe from a semi-hunk to the real thing.

“I want to sit down close,” Pat said. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”

“You want to sit beside Cherry and Abby? Grandmamma thinks they might go into labor today.”

“Hell, no,” Pat whispered with some alarm, and Catherine laughed.

“Charlie!” she called, motioning for her favorite usher to come closer.

He came at a run, a big grin from ear to ear.

“Pat, this is my almost stepson, Charlie. Charlie, will you seat Mrs. Bauer down close to the front?”

Charlie held out his arm for Pat to take. “You got it, almost Mom.”

Catherine stood there smiling. She really thought he was going to do it—call her Mom. He had approached her privately to ask if she’d mind, explaining that he knew that maybe she was a little too young to have a son his age but that he had a solution for that. When and if people asked how old he was, she could tell them he was nine.

“Won’t they wonder why you’re driving a car?” she’d asked.

“Yeah,” he’d answered mischievously. He was full of himself. Exactly like Joe.

“What?” Joe asked, because she was still smiling to herself.

“I love your son,” she said. She loved Fritz, too. She was prepared to love Della, if only she got the chance.

Michael was moving up the church steps—alone.

“It’s okay,” Joe said quietly to her. “I didn’t expect anything.”

He didn’t expect it, but it was so painfully apparent that he’d wanted it. Catherine watched as he stepped forward to greet his brother with open arms.

“Thanks for coming, Michael.”

“Thanks for coming? Joey! You think you can get married without me? Besides that, I got to take pictures for Mom and Dad.” He gave Joe one of his infamous bear hugs. “Catherine?” he said, reaching for her next. “I tried,” he whispered in her ear. “I told Della what she does now can affect the rest of her life. But . . .” He shrugged to show her how futile it had been.

At least
he’d
come, she thought. She supposed that Della was somewhere being comforted by Margaret.

It was nearly time for the ceremony to begin, and Father Hammond came into the vestibule.

“You may kiss the bride,” he said to Joe.

“Now? Aren’t you jumping the gun here?”

“I am, but you look like you need it.”

Catherine thought he looked like he needed it, too. She put her arms around him and gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth.

“One more,” he whispered, and she kissed him again.

“I love you, Joe.”

“I love
you
—with all my heart. If I ever do anything, say anything about Lisa or anything like that that hurts you, I want you to tell me. Will you?”

She smiled up at him. “I’m not worried about that, Joe.”

“I know, but sometimes I shoot off my big mouth.”

She chuckled. She couldn’t argue with him there.

She kissed him one more time, then wiped the lipstick off his mouth with her fingertips. “Pat’s right,” she said, giving him a mischievous grin.

“About what?”

“About you. You
are
a hunk,” she whispered. “And I’m going to keep you naked and in my bed for at least a week.”

“Yeah?” he asked, returning her grin.

“Yeah,” she assured him.

Father Hammond cleared his throat. “I thought we weren’t dawdling. Let’s get this ceremony on the road, children.”

Catherine had wanted to make the wedding as personal as possible, so Fritz and Charlie stood with them at the altar. She had wanted Joe’s son and daughter to know that she was marrying all of them, and having them as attendants had seemed the best way to express that.

But Della was conspicuously absent.

“You may kiss the bride,” Father Hammond said for the second time that day, and Catherine got more kisses than she’d bargained for—from Joe and from Charlie and from Fritz.

Laughing, the four of them moved together down the aisle to leave the church.

Fritz saw her first, stopping abruptly on the church steps so that Catherine bumped into her. She put her hands on Fritz’s shoulders and smiled down at her, wondering a bit at the expression on Fritz’s face.

“It’s Della,” Fritz said worriedly. “Della’s here.”

Catherine looked across the street. Della stood between two parked cars. She was wearing jeans and a short leather jacket, and she had her hands jammed into her pockets.

Joe had seen her as well, and he moved forward.

“Let me,” Catherine said to him. “Let me go to her, Joe.”

He hesitated, then nodded, taking Fritz by the hand. People were pouring out of the church, and Catherine left him standing in the middle of it.

She crossed the street, half expecting Della to run away from her. But she didn’t. She stood there in the sharp March wind between the parked cars. When Catherine got closer, she could see that Della had been crying. Catherine’s eyes searched that petulant, tear-stained face, and she prayed for something to say because, now that Della had come, Catherine found that there was nothing she wanted to tell this child. If anything, she wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled.

“It’s no use, is it?” Catherine said, and she could feel the tears welling in her own eyes. “I came over here to ask you one more time. I came to ask you to just
try—
to beg you if I had to—for Joe. But it’s no use! I don’t know what to do, Della! I don’t! I love him. Are you going to punish him for that? Please . . . please don’t hurt him anymore. He misses you so much. They all do.” She stopped because she had to, because Joe was coming across the street and because she couldn’t keep from crying. She knew that all the wedding guests were watching, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. “Della!” she whispered fiercely, intending to make one last plea before he got there.