Weapons of Mass Seduction (28 page)

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too. Come in,” Pia said, finally moving aside so he could enter. Valen placed the gift bag on the table as she helped him off with his
GQ
-worthy shearling coat and hung it in the closet.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Pia asked, further delaying the reason for his appearance.

Valen refused her offer. He wanted to stay clear-headed for the conversation to come. There was too much at stake tonight to blow it with alcohol-induced misunderstanding. Pia invited him to make himself comfortable while she put the flowers in water. The apartment smelled like holiday love—a mishmash of favorite foods layering the air with aromatic scents. It was also very quiet. The baby must be asleep, he concluded. Valen sat on the couch and quickly scanned the room. Isobella had only been home a few days and Robbie and Stacey's entire apartment looked like a ransacked Babies R Us store. Surprisingly, other than a blanket and tiny ceramic shoe, he saw no signs of an infant. Valen concluded that Pia, chic mother that she was, kept all the baby gear in the back.

“Sorry for arriving unannounced, but I thought the element of surprise might work better to my advantage,” he explained.

“And surprise was necessary because…?”

“Because it's been a long time and I didn't want to risk your refusing to see me. But with the baby I figured you'd probably be staying put.”

Valen noticed the change in her eyes and chalked it up to residual anger over their last conversation, more pointedly his disapproval over her pregnancy.

“Was that you who called earlier and then hung up?” Pia asked, adding things up.

“Uh, yes. I was just checking that you were home.”

Pia turned her head slightly and smiled. She was secretly pleased she'd driven him to such high school antics.

“Valen,” she said, returning and putting the vase on the coffee table, “I'm really sorry about the election. I know how hard you campaigned, and you deserved to win. I even voted for you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot, more than I can tell you.”

“I hope you were sincere about what you said in your concession speech about running again. This country needs you—even if you are a damn Republican,” she added with a teasing smile.

“I was and I will. But first I need to take these next few years to get some personal things in order,” he said, getting closer to what he came to discuss.

“So you were just in the neighborhood?” she asked, waiting for him to mention her mother-sent e-mail. She'd already decided to take ownership for sending it if he did.

Though he'd gone over this conversation a hundred times in his mind, sitting here with Pia in kissing distance, Valen didn't have a clue where to begin. So he just said the first thing on his mind.

“I'd love to meet your baby.”

Valen watched as Pia's body crumpled before releasing a tidal wave of tears. Instinctively, he reached out and drew his sobbing woman to his chest. “Shh,” he said in a soothing voice as he stroked her hair. “Whatever it is we'll make it better, I promise.” He was totally perplexed by Pia's reaction, but at this very moment comforting the woman he loved was more important than understanding the reason for her tears.

Pia fell willingly into his arms, not realizing until now how much she needed him to help her heal. She allowed herself to release the storm of pent-up emotion she'd been holding in since delivering her stillborn son. In the safety of Valen's embrace she purged the sorrow and guilt over the losses of Pom, Valen, and her father, and for all the years she'd spent repressing her emotions. Eventually her sobs became whimpers before dissolving into the hiccups.

“There is no baby, Valen. I had a little boy, but he died.”

No words seemed adequate, so Valen simply hugged Pia tight, shielding her body with his, wanting desperately to protect her from any further hurt.

She told him everything that had been on her heavy heart since the morning he'd walked out on her. Pia started at the very beginning from her years of no sex then moved on to her gynecological issues to taking the WMS class to breaking her celibacy with Grand Nelson and their agreement.

“He doesn't know about his son?” Valen interrupted to ask.

“No. It was part of the agreement. There was to be no contact until the baby's first birthday.”

Pia disentangled herself and went into the bedroom to get a Kleenex. When she returned she held two boxes—one full of tissues, the other full of heartbreaking memories.

“I've never shown this to anyone. Not even my mother,” she said. Pia took a deep breath and opened the handcrafted, wooden treasure box, actually a humidor that once belonged to her father. One by one, Pia pulled from it the proof that her baby had existed—a lock of Pom's hair, his footprints, and her hospital bracelet.

Valen listened with a chest full of compassion as Pia told him of the tragic turn her life had taken in the months since they'd been apart. He cursed himself for not being around to help her through this misery.

“It was very quiet in the delivery room. Eerily quiet. No cry of life. No excited announcements. They cleaned him up—thankfully he hadn't begun to…well, you know—and wrapped him in a receiving blanket. He was wearing a tiny blue hat, just like all the other babies. If you didn't know he was stillborn you might have thought he was just sleeping,” Pia told him, recounting the moment they placed her tiny angel in her arms so she could say good-bye. “Except for that one brief moment in time, I never got to hold him again.”

The muted sounds of their pain commingled and drifted skyward. Pia had not spoken of this to anyone, and it seemed fitting to express her deepest hurts to the man she loved and thought of as her best friend. She was so grateful that he'd finally come.

Valen wept, remembering how just days ago he was rocking his precious, hungry granddaughter to sleep. He could not imagine the horror of holding her still and lifeless little body. The mere thought made him shudder.

He allowed Pia to cry for as long as she needed, vowing that pain like this would never touch this beautiful woman again. He was moved that she'd shared all of this with him as it brought them closer and made Valen only love her more.

“Pia, you asked me why I came today,” he said once her sobs had subsided. Valen gently lifted her face by the chin so he could look into her tearful eyes. “I just got your e-mail.”

“But I sent it weeks ago.”

“It came the day of the election, and truthfully, I was so worn out and depressed that I shut off my Treo and didn't pick it up again until a couple of days ago. But when I saw your message it made everything, including losing the election, bearable. I realized that as long as you loved me, nothing was that bad and anything was possible. I hope you'll realize the same thing.”

Valen brought his lips down to meet Pia's in a life-changing, love-affirming kiss.

Pia settled into his kiss, relishing the words she'd always thought she wanted to hear but had been running from nearly all her adult life.

“I love you too,” Pia told him, running no longer.

“When did you know?” Valen asked, his smile as wide as the sky.

“I think it happened when we were dancing at the Empire State Building,” she said between sniffles.

“I think it was sooner than that,” he teased.

“Oh, really? And just when do you think I fell for you?”

“When I told you that I was no longer interested and yet you continued to pursue me. Showering me with gifts and then wearing that incredible dress to the Met just to tempt me. Those moves had ‘I love you' written all over them,” Valen joked.

“Uh, you do realize that I was just trying to save my job at that point?”

“Yeah, any excuse. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

“I love you, Valen Bellamy,” Pia repeated, enjoying the way the sweet words warmed her like hot fudge on a warm brownie.

“Then marry me,” he said. “With you, my life makes sense.
I
make sense, and now there's nothing to stop us from being together,” Valen said. He hadn't come over intending to propose tonight. He'd planned on waiting until Christmas, but now just seemed like the right moment.

Pia sat and stared into Valen's eyes before standing and walking over to the window. She ignored his question and instead watched the snow continue to fall, noticing how bright the night appeared with the glow from streetlights reflecting off the snow. Usually she loved the hushed quality of snowfall, but this evening she could find no peace in the stillness.

There is nothing to stop us from being together
. Valen's words pierced her joy, causing it to evaporate into the night.

Why was nothing easy? She'd finally allowed herself to fall in love and to revel in her feelings, and yet even through the euphoria of love she still had to contend with crushing disappointment.

Valen crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Pia, enjoying the warmth of her body pressed against his. Her silence seemed appropriate. She'd been through a lot, and he was sure his sudden proposal had created the need for reflection.

“I do love you, Pia.”

She totally believed that Valen loved her. Just as she was positive that she loved him in return. Love was not the issue. The problem was that Valen wanted to marry her only now that there was no child. And that was unacceptable. If he didn't want her with the baby, he didn't deserve her now.

“I can't,” she whispered.

“Can't or won't?” he asked, turning her around to face him.

“Does it matter? The bottom line is I'm saying no,” Pia said, her hurt slowly morphing into an armor of indifference.

“You don't want to think about it?”

“There is nothing to think about,” Pia said, avoiding his probing eyes. She was back to protecting herself from this disastrous thing called love. “What I need is for you to go.”

Valen's thoughts sped through his head like a bullet. He didn't understand. Just moments ago they'd both professed their love for each other, and now she was throwing him out? At what point had things gone so terribly wrong? Did she not believe in marriage? Was there something else she was keeping from him?

She just lost her baby. Of course it's too soon to think about marriage
. That was the rationale that made the most sense to him. After years of wanting to have a child and the physical and social hurdles Pia had to get over to conceive, only to lose her child so close to delivery, she was in no frame of mind to decide on the rest of her life. What was he thinking? It was thoughtless and selfish for him to have put his desire to be with her above the emotional crisis she was currently dealing with. He should have been more compassionate. He should have followed his original plan and waited.

“Pia, talk to me,” he pleaded.

After such an emotional, gut-wrenching outburst, she had nothing left. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to be left alone so she could begin to get over this latest ironic chapter of her pathetic love story.

“There's nothing left to say…except good-bye,” she said, turning back to watch the snow.

Valen paused for another few moments before giving up. He kissed the back of her head, noticed the tense rise in her shoulders, and strutted across the room to retrieve his coat. He was down but not defeated. Valen refused to repeat his earlier mistake and give up without explanation, but enough had been shared today.

“Pia…”

Her silence drove him to open the door and make his exit. It wasn't until he'd reached the lobby that he remembered the gift he'd brought. He wasn't sure if he should leave it and risk upsetting her all over again, or go back and retrieve it, guaranteeing he'd upset her again.

Leave it,
he decided. There'd been enough drama for one day.

Chapter Thirty-seven

P
ia turned around as soon as she heard the door close behind him. She was almost grateful for the earlier waterworks, because there wasn't a tear left in her body. She could not believe this was happening to her. Who was the cosmic jokester who kept dangling happiness in her face and then pulling it away like with Charlie Brown and that goddamn football?

Pia wandered back to the couch, poured herself another glass of wine, and blew her nose for the millionth time. She reached out and gently stroked the flowers Valen had given her. They were beautiful, just the type she would have chosen for her walk up the aisle. Oh, well.

The phone rang but Pia refused to answer it. It was probably Valen, her mother, or Dee, and she wasn't in the mood to talk to any of them. Instead, she curled up on the sofa and turned on the television, flipping through the channels, looking for some mind-numbing program to take her thoughts off recent events. She stopped on a TBS showing of
The Wizard of Oz
, allowing herself momentarily to get caught up in the residents of Munchkin Land before her mind drifted off again.

Maybe she wouldn't go back to work next week. Maybe before the WMS reunion she'd take a trip somewhere warm and beautiful. Somewhere where it would be easy to forget all the crazy twists and turns her life had taken recently. Somewhere where Pia could wipe her personal slate clean and come back in the new year and start all over again. Was that possible? Did such a place exist?

Just where the hell do I find my Emerald City and great Oz?
Pia thought, yawning as her eyelids got heavy.
I'm just like that damn Dorothy—cute shoes, a motley crew of romance-impaired friends, and not a clue which way to turn.

It was 9:46
P.M
. when Pia opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched, waking herself just enough to lock up the apartment and drag herself to bed. Too much and she'd be up all night rehashing her pathetic life.

Pia got up and walked to the front door to check the locks. She flipped off the entry light and was headed back into the living area when she noticed the gift bag Valen had put down and apparently forgotten about. “Tomorrow,” she instructed herself while one by one she turned out all the lights leading to her bedroom.

She undressed and went through her nightly beauty regimen. Keeping the curtains open so she could see the falling snow illuminated by the streetlights, Pia slipped into bed, pulled the comforter under her chin, and closed her eyes. She remained like that for all of thirty seconds before curiosity grabbed her by the hand and forced her to turn on the lamp, jump out of bed, and retrieve Valen's bag.

Crawling back under the covers, Pia took a deep breath. No matter what the contents, she was sure it would somehow turn the drama up a notch.

She timidly reached inside, the sound of crinkling paper broadcasting her progress until her hand touched something soft and fuzzy. Pia pulled out the Cookie Monster puppet holding a note taped between its hands. Immediately her face burst into a tearful smile, which widened into open-mouthed surprise when she read the words on the envelope:
To Baby Jamison.
Following another huge, bracing exhalation, Pia opened the note.

Dear Baby,

We haven't met yet. I'm afraid I don't even know your name, but I will soon. I wanted my first gift to you to be special, and this certainly is. Your mommy gave me this puppet at a time when I was feeling very down and unsure of myself. It made me laugh and reminded me that life is only as bad as you think it is. It is one of my most treasured possessions, and I want you to have it. I plan to play with you and Cookie Monster regularly, because it is my hope that one day soon, you, your beautiful mommy, and I will be a family. It's taken me a long time to get to this place, but I know I'm going to love you because I dearly love your mom and you are such an important and special part of her.

Love, Valen

“Oh my God. He did want the baby,” Pia said, giving Cookie a fur-squashing hug. “Cookie, did you hear that? He wanted to marry both me and Pom.

“When am I going to learn to let the man speak?” she asked the little blue monster as she hopped up and down on the bed with joy. She could have avoided all this angst if she'd only let Valen explain. Pia fell out flat on the bed as she tried to think. She had to see him. And she had to see him now, and in the perfect place. It was nearly ten-thirty, which left little time, but she didn't care. It had to be there.

With Cookie Monster cheering her on, Pia picked up her BlackBerry and sent Valen a message requesting his presence. After sending it, the thought occurred to her that he may not look at his e-mail, and she decided to call.

Instead of a live voice, Pia got Valen's voice mail. She paused for a moment to swallow her disappointment, then left a message.

“Hi. It's me. It's after ten and I just sent you an e-mail. Please, please, read it and then meet me before midnight. I have so much to say to you.”

Pia jumped off the bed and raced into her closet. Just what did one wear to propose? Considering the weather, she decided that it had to be the warm, outdoor equivalent of the sexy little black dress. Something with a maximum seduction quotient. In her mind that could mean only one thing—après ski wear. Pia hurried through her makeup application, added a spritz of her favorite cologne, and quickly pulled on a winter white cashmere turtleneck and matching wool stretch pants tucked into snuggly fur-lined boots. She added a silver fox-trimmed down parka, fur hat, and gloves. Pia was ready to hit the door when inspiration struck. She checked the clock. It was already eleven. She was cutting it close, but the additional details would be perfect.

Pia stripped off her gloves and scooted into the kitchen to make a thermos of hot chocolate. While she waited for the milk to warm, it dawned on her that if she was going to do this properly, particularly in such a world-famous romantic and now personally sentimental location, she should have a ring.

Think. Think. You're creative—come up with something,
she commanded herself.

“Reynolds Wrap,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Pia ripped away a small five-inch-wide strip of foil and folded it lengthwise several times to eliminate any sharp edges. She then twisted the material into metallic rope and looped it around her thumb to create a shiny silver band. Perfect. Pia slipped the makeshift engagement ring into her pants pocket, poured the cocoa into a thermos, and sped out the door to meet the rest of her life.

Pia arrived at the Empire State Building twenty minutes before closing. She stepped into the empty elevator, visualizing the moment to come as the car began its ascent to the eighty-sixth-floor observation deck. Somewhere around the fiftieth floor, Pia realized she was humming. And not just any song, but her happy song. She was humming a classic tune she'd learned in nursery school, “If You're Happy and You Know It.” Over the years it was the one melody that reflexively burst into her head whenever she was feeling particularly gleeful.

“…then your face will surely show it,” Pia sang before clapping her hands and walking out into a cloud's-eye view of the winter wonderland below. Snow flurries whipped around her head as she immediately turned right and circled the deck, looking for Valen. Just as she nearly completed the lap and was beginning to worry, she noticed a familiar shearling coat and the man inside it, his hands in his pockets, looking out into the snowy night.

Pia walked toward him, her steps hushed by the fallen flakes, and reached out and wrapped her arms around Valen's body. She laid her head against his back and allowed herself to soak in the silence and revel in the moment. Everything that wasn't her and Valen was cleared away by the winter wind. There was no cold, no pain, no fear or misunderstandings. Just the two of them standing on the top of their world, finally together.

Valen stepped forward and spun around, bringing his lips down on hers and devouring any words about to be spoken with his ardent kiss. Their mouths and open eyes spoke a silent language of love, clearing up all the confusion and miscommunication that had gone on between them for months. At its end, their mutual tongue-tangling proclamation was clear: Love will not be denied, no matter how messy it starts or how complicated it becomes.

“Pia—”

“Me first,” she commanded, holding her gloved finger to his lips. “I have something to say and I need you to listen.

“I said no to your proposal tonight because I thought you wanted to marry me only now that there was no baby. I didn't know until I found Cookie Monster and your note that I was terribly wrong.”

“It's true,” Valen said, breaking Pia's rule. “It took my losing the election to finally figure out what was important to me. And that was you—baby, liberal politics, and all.

“If I had won, I'd be a senator, but it would have been such an empty victory. I've wasted so much time without you because I let my staff and the voters dictate whom I could and couldn't love. I am so sorry.”

“It's so crazy that it took both of us losing the thing we wanted most to bring us together. Going through my baby's death forced me to look at aspects of myself that I was keeping in the shadows and refusing to deal with. Losing Pom hurt so much, I couldn't avoid feeling anymore. Through the pain I realized why I'd spent so much of my life avoiding love—because I was afraid that any man who loved me would leave me. I know my baby came and stayed long enough to teach me how to feel love again.

“Valen, I never believed that marriage was for me. In fact, though I was hell-bent on becoming a mother, I never thought I'd ever be a wife. Well, motherhood is no longer an option, but here I am, standing in front of the only man I've ever truly loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Well, you already know how I feel about that,” Valen said, his eyes and voice dewy with gratitude.

“So you still want to marry me?”

“More than ever.”

Pia turned to squarely face the man she loved, removed his gloves, and took his hands into hers. With tears that for the first time in weeks were cried out of pure, unadulterated joy, she proceeded.

“Then I, Pia Clarice Jamison, take you, wonderful, patient, smart, funny, sweet, sexy as hell Valen Bellamy, to be my husband. To have and to hold, to love and cherish, until death us do part,” she vowed.

Happiness broke out on Valen's face as Pia reached into her pocket and pulled out her handcrafted ring. With his amused eyes looking on, she squished the foil back into shape and held it between her thumb and forefinger. Pia slid the foil band onto Valen's ring finger, laughing the entire time. Valen held his hand up into the light and admired her handiwork. He loved it and everything it represented.

“And I, Valen Kermit Bellamy—”

“Kermit?” she interrupted with a laugh. “Who am I marrying?”

“Shush. I, Valen Kermit Bellamy, take you, brave, beautiful, thoughtful, sensuous, sexy, and very wise Pia Clarice Jamison, to be my wife. I will love you and protect you and drop at your feet all in the world that is good and sweet until death us do part,” he said. To Pia's great surprise, Valen stripped away her glove and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He flipped the lid, revealing a three-carat Asscher-cut diamond set in platinum.

Pia held the box while Valen took the ring and slipped it on her finger. It was half a size too big and wobbled slightly, but Pia's deep intake of breath let him know how beautiful she thought it to be.

“But your ring is better,” Pia said through her wide smile.

“Ah, but yours, my darling, is priceless. I love it and you. Now, do I finally get to kiss my bride?”

Their lips found each other and sealed a marriage that while not legal was as real in their hearts as any officiated church ceremony. They stood happily holding each other, exhausted by the struggle to get to this place but elated knowing that the hard times were behind them. Now, with hearts united, there was nothing life could possibly throw at them that would ever be this difficult again.

“Time for a wedding toast,” Pia said, pulling away and retrieving the thermos from her purse.

“You've thought of everything,” Valen said as she poured him a cup of steaming hot cocoa.

“The last time I invited you up here, I promised you an evening to remember. Now I'm promising you a
lifetime
of memories. To us,” Pia said, raising her cup.

“To love.” They touched cups and drank the hot chocolate, warmed by both the drink and the moment.

“I promise you, Pia, that from the time the sun comes up on our real wedding day until the time we are separated by the inevitable, I will make our life together an affair to remember.”

“
Real
wedding? Darling, tonight was so real that I am expecting a honeymoon,” she said, giving him the tried-and-true WMS eye smile and lip bite combo.