Suddenly a Bride (9 page)

Elizabeth lifted her chin, blinked. “Pardon me?”

“The iced tea. Sugared or unsugared?”

“Oh, sugar or no sugar? They’re both no sugar.
Unsugared
isn’t a word, I don’t think, or at least not what is considered to be a good one. Not that I should have corrected you. I’m sorry. Richard is always making up new words, and I have to look them all up and then change them.”

Will added two packets of sugar to his cup and then put the lid back on it. “You’d go crazy if you worked for me. Lawyers make up new words all the time. So what’s in the bags?”

“I bought a new outfit for tonight,” Elizabeth said before she could think up a suitable lie. “I also was talking to the lady in the shoe department, and she suggested a movie for us to see.” She rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. “Do you know something? I haven’t been out shopping without the
boys in, well, I can’t remember when. It was heaven. They’re too old now to come into the dressing room with me and too young to be left floating around on their own.” She leaned back in her chair once more. “So thank you.”

Will picked up his napkin and leaned in closer to her as he touched it to her chin. “Just a little pizza sauce. It looks good on you, though.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. “Thank you, again.”

He didn’t move away. What moved away was the world. The food court, the noise, even her two sons, who had made remarkable inroads on the veggie pizza and were now competing with each other to see who could make the most noise with their straws as they sucked down the last of their lemonade.

What was left of Elizabeth’s world was Will, so handsome in his silly baseball shirt, so young and vital and overwhelmingly male.

“This is nice,” he said quietly. “Crazy but nice. But if I don’t let you go home I won’t be able to pick you up there later so that we can really be alone.”

“You…you’re doing it again,” she pointed out, unable to shift her gaze away from his. “You’re flirting.”

His smile was like a punch to her stomach. “Yes, I know. How am I doing?”

“You’re doing rather…rather well, actually. I think you’ve probably had a lot of practice.”

“Ouch,” Will said, sitting back at last. “Boys? I think I’ve just been sent to my room.”

“Huh?” Mikey asked, looking at Will as if he’d just grown another head. “Mom said so? How can she say so? She’s not your mom. She’s
our
mom.”

“Yes,” Will said as they gathered up the empty cups and napkins and the pizza box and headed for the closest trash can, “but men always listen to women.”

“But why?” Danny asked in all seriousness. Danny was often serious when he believed
rules
were involved. Mikey only learned the rules so he could know when he was breaking them.

“Yes, Will. Why?” Elizabeth asked. “I really want to hear this answer.”

“All right,” he said as they proceeded to the exit. “Here’s the deal, boys. We men always listen to women because we’re gentlemen, and it’s polite.”

“Oh.
That.
Mom says that all the time,” Mikey said, unimpressed.

Will leaned closer to Elizabeth and whispered, “I could have told him a gentleman also gets farther with sugared rather than
unsugared,
but I figured he’s still too young for that one.”

“And yet nobody wonders why men still are allowed to rule the world,” she whispered back at him. But then she smiled, because they were outside again, in the bright June sun, and the clouds were white as sugar against a gorgeous blue sky. She believed, really needed to believe, that Jamie was up there somewhere looking down at her and saying, “Well, it’s about damn time, Liz. Welcome back to the world!”

W
ill grabbed a towel to sling around his waist as he stepped out of the shower to hear his bedroom phone ringing. He had a momentary thought—all right, a momentary slap of panic—wondering if it might be Elizabeth phoning to cancel. He had pushed things a bit over lunch. Probably pushed too far…and he’d been beating himself up over it ever since, especially since he’d sworn to himself that tonight would be the last date. All right, maybe not
sworn.

Although, she did seem to know how to push back. She’d even seemed to be enjoying herself.

“Hello,” he said as he slammed down hard on Speaker before the call could go to his answering machine. He could talk Elizabeth out of canceling their
date, he was sure of that. But you can’t wheedle an answering machine message.

“Do you have me on Speaker? I
hate
being put on Speaker. It’s like I’m talking to a mob in an echo chamber or something.”

He sat down on the side of the bed. “What do you want, Chessie? You got me out of the shower.”

“Good. Not as good as getting you out of bed at midnight, but I’ll take it. I’m calling because I want to know what in the heck you were talking about last night.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Of course I remember. I just want to know why
you
don’t know what you were talking about last night, that’s all. I’m pretty sure you didn’t. And then I want to know how Elizabeth managed to put you upside down on your head, because I may want to try it someday.”

“And people wonder why you aren’t married,” Will teased, and then immediately flinched. “Ah, babe, I’m sorry. That was supposed to be a joke.”

“No, my almost-trip down the aisle—
that
was a joke. Don’t worry about it. You’re a lawyer. You can’t help but say stupid things.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, you tell me. I’m not the one working off a contempt of court charge. But seriously, Will, have I created a problem for you? I didn’t mean to.”

Will assured her he was fine, Elizabeth was fine, the whole damn world was just one big bowl of cherries.
The two hung up when the bell over the door of Second Chance Bridal rang and Chessie was called away to wait on a customer.

“Saved by the bell,” Will said, getting to his feet.

Which saved him from having to tell Chessie she was right. Except that he wasn’t just upside down on his head. He was also in too deep, out of his depth and pretty sure he was sinking. Fast.

Elizabeth walked into the boys’ bedroom, noticing how the heels of her new shoes click-clicked rather satisfyingly on the old broad-cut wooden floor. “Okay, boys, I think you’re all set. The movie you wanted is in the machine, so all you have to do is press Play. I put a box of microwave popcorn on the counter next to the microwave, and Elsie will make it when you’re ready. Elsie isn’t going to fall for any tall tales about your bedtime, and she will watch while you brush your teeth, so don’t just try wetting the toothbrush and sticking it back in the holder. She raised three kids of her own, and you won’t be able to fool her. Got that?”

“Mike does that, not me,” Danny protested as he pushed his newly shorn and freshly washed hair through the neck hole of his superhero pajamas. Without the tube of slicker gel, his curls were back, but now they were tamed and ended at his nape. He looked at her, batting those eyes that were so much like his father’s, and rubbed at his squeaky-clean shiny little nose. “Wow. You look good, Mom. All grown up.”

Mikey, who had been picking up toys and tossing them into the wicker baskets lined up on a low shelf, paused in midthrow and looked at his mother. “Where’s your hair?”

Elizabeth touched a hand to her nape. She’d debated for ten minutes but finally had decided to wear her hair up tonight. She thought it gave her neckline a good line. “You don’t like it?”

Mikey shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. You’re right, Mikey. Too stiff, too formal. It’s dinner and a movie, not a night at the opera.”

“What’s an opera?” Danny asked her as he fingered the long necklace that hung nearly to her waist. “Are these real?”

“No, Danny. It’s costume jewelry.”

“You’re wearing a
costume?
” the literal Mikey squeaked. “Who are you pretending to be?”

Elizabeth grinned as she pointed a finger at him. “Good question, Mikey. I’ll let you know the minute I figure it out. Now, finish up in here, please. Elsie and Mr. Hollingswood will be here any minute.”

“He says to call him Coach. He says William J. Hollingswood is only to impress the jury. What’s a jury?”

“You two are, that’s who,” Elizabeth said, pulling pins from her hair as the doorbell rang. “Go get that, will you, please. I have to comb my hair.”

Danny ran out of the room, heading for the door, but Mikey stayed where he was, his head tipped as he looked at his mother. Then he nodded. “That’s better, Mom. You look real pretty.” Then he surprised her by
hugging her tightly around the waist, his damp, curly head making a slight water mark just beneath her breasts, before running after his brother.

Elizabeth’s bottom lip trembled, and she bit it between her teeth as a memory came flashing back at her. Mikey had always liked to slide his chubby little fingers into her hair when she was feeding him his bottle. He’d tangle his hand in its length and then rub some strands between his fingers. She doubted he even remembered. He’d been so young. But she did.

She heard Elsie’s voice in the kitchen and knew Will would soon arrive. Her heels click-clicked against the wooden floor as she retreated to the bathroom to comb her hair. Her hands were shaking. Only a little, but they were shaking.

“Stop it,” she told her reflection. “It’s just a date. You’ve been on dates before.”
With Jamie, your steady boyfriend since the middle of tenth grade
, her brain, which seemed to be a stickler for accuracy this evening, reminded her.
Before that there was only Zachary Goobins, who took you to the fair and then lost you on the Midway, and David Hooker, who you slapped when he tried to get to second base…and you didn’t even know what second base was.

This would be the first time she would be with Will without having the twins along to act as a buffer. To act as chaperones. It was going to be just the two of them. What would they talk about? Would there be long, awkward silences? Would she try to fill them with stupid babbling? Would he try to kiss her good night? After
all, the twins had eaten the last of the peanut butter cookies.

The doorbell sounded again, and the comb fell from Elizabeth’s nerveless grip, clanking against the top of the sink. “Get a grip, woman,” she ordered herself tersely. She stepped back from the vanity sink, turned from side to side to see if her underwear lived up to its promise—it did, no panty lines—and then touched her hand to the vague damp spot on the front of her dress.

How do you tell your child not to hug you? You don’t!

She grabbed the hair dryer and held it a few inches from her dress as she watched the spot disappear without leaving any evidence—thank God Mikey had also decided against the hair gel after his shower.

Elizabeth returned to her bedroom to pick up the small purse and then walked to the window, to look out at the slowly setting sun. “Jamie? I know what you told me. I know what you wanted for me after you were gone, how unselfish you were. I was the selfish one. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to be alone. I was so afraid. I’m still afraid, Jamie. I’m afraid of so many things. But I’m never afraid that I will forget you.”

She pressed her hands against her cheeks, feeling the burn of her flushed skin.

“Mom! Hey, Mom, Coach is here. He says he wants to see your costume.”

“Oh, God.” Elizabeth smiled out at the sun. “Stop laughing, Jamie. They’re your sons, too, remember. As long as I have them, I have you.”

She looked good enough to eat, Will decided as he walked down the outside stairs ahead of her and led the way to his car. Still wholesome, still all-American girl, still a mom. But there was an added extra something else tonight.

Those great legs that were even greater thanks to the way her high heels gave even more curve to her calves.

The bright pink dress skimmed her body in a way that demurely hinted rather than exploited, exposed. Which was, he’d decided within a nanosecond of seeing her walk into the kitchen, sexier than if the dress had been cut-down-to-there and slit-up-to-there glow-in-the-dark spandex.

He opened the car door for her but then blocked her entrance. “You know what? There’s something we ought to get over with now, so we both aren’t thinking about it all night.”

She lifted a hand to her cheek, to push away the shiny, sleek hair that had blown slightly across her face in the soft evening breeze, and he fought the urge to do it for her, just so that he could touch her hair.

“I don’t have a curfew, if that’s what you’re thinking. Elsie’s going to stay overnight, sleep on the pull-out couch.”

“She doesn’t mind?”

Elizabeth shook her head, her gaze suddenly sliding away from his. “Elsie keeps her opinions to herself.”

“More people should, and the world would be a hap
pier place. But that’s not what I was thinking about. We, well,
I,
left something unfinished last night. Do you know what that is?”

Her smile knotted a fist inside his chest. “Are you saying you really didn’t come back for another peanut butter cookie?”

“Elsie’s making more for me tomorrow,” he told her. “But it wasn’t the cook I was thinking about kissing. In fact, I’ve been thinking about kissing you ever since I left here last night. Which is why I thought we’d get it out of the way now, or I won’t remember what we eat for dinner or anything about the movie. So what do you say? Should we get it over with?”

“Like a visit to the dentist sort of get it over with?”

“God, I hope not. But now you’ve got me worried. You’re a lousy kisser?” he teased, lightly cupping the back of her neck in his hand.

“I’d like to think I’m just more of a slightly out-of-practice kisser,” she said, her gaze meeting his unblinkingly.

He drew her closer. “Don’t worry. It’s probably like riding a bike. You never really forget…”

He lightly touched his lips to hers, expecting to be mildly pleased, because he liked kissing women, and he was pretty good at it. What he did not expect was to feel the near electric shock of awareness, of sweet, hot desire that instantly burned through him.

He could hold her forever, kiss her forever, draw himself inside her and her inside of him, making them one in a way that had little to do with sex and so very
much more to do with being
home.
Being somewhere that he belonged, really belonged.

Visions of white picket fences danced in his head. Sunday barbecues, a swing set in a backyard filled with flowers. Baseball games and Christmas trees with shiny new bicycles sitting in front of them. Frolicking puppies and the smell of roast beef coming from the kitchen, and someone to kiss him hello and be really glad to see him…

Will put his hands on her shoulders and lightly pushed himself away from her, doing his best to smile down into her face, when what he really should be doing was heading for the airport and a flight to somewhere with topless beaches and assorted beauties of flexible morals, so he could remember what he really wanted out of life.

“Well, now that we’ve taken care of that,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound manic. “Now onward and upward, to my favorite Italian restaurant.”

She looked as dazzled as he felt. Or was that only wishful thinking on his part?

“Oh, I get it now,” Elizabeth said as she slipped into the front seat and looked up at him. “You’re afraid I’ll order everything with extra garlic on it.”

“If you will, I will. That way we’ll cancel each other out.”

“And we won’t have to worry about anyone sitting too close to us in the movie theater. Do you always plan ahead like this?”

“Absolutely,” he said, before closing the door and
walking around the back of the Mercedes, where he dropped his keys, something he never did, and then smacked his knee on the bumper when he bent down to pick them up. At sixteen he’d had more finesse than this. Hell, when he was Dan and Mike’s age he’d had more finesse than this. Where was his confidence? Where was the smooth operator who lived well, had never seen himself as the sort of man who wanted to be tied down? Women were fun. He enjoyed women. A lot. But all without strings, dammit. There would be plenty of time for strings when he was, oh, forty or so. If ever, because he liked his life.

He didn’t like kids. He didn’t like commitment. And he hated white picket fences!

There were no awkward silences over dinner, although Elizabeth didn’t realize that, as she was too busy laughing and asking and answering questions, learning things about Will the not-always-obedient son, Will the not-always-serious college student, Will the maybe-sometimes-too-dedicated lawyer.

In turn, she’d told him about her own childhood, that she’d been captain of the baton twirling squad in high school, that her father had passed away unexpectedly only two weeks after she’d graduated, so that she’d stayed home from college to be with her mother and then, two years later, to marry Jamie.

The conversation turned more serious then, as they sat over coffee and dessert, and the show time for the last movie slipped past with neither of them noticing.

“Jamie was still in school—he was accepted to move up to the main campus at Penn State by his junior year, so I went with him to a small apartment in Happy Valley.” She smiled at the memory, although it was easier to look back on those two years than to have to relive them again. “We were on the third floor, stuck between a party-hearty group of five male students below us and a herd of elephants in the apartment above us. Seriously,” she said when Will smiled. “Elephants on pogo sticks, Jamie would say. And they never slept, which meant the twins never slept. The laundry was in another building, there was no elevator and I think we owned two pots and one frying pan. Jamie was in class all day, worked a part-time job on the weekends and studied at the library every night. Nobody could study with the twins around, and when the twins finally went to bed—”