“It certainly is,” James put in.
Walter studied her. “How are you feeling these days?”
“Wonderful.”
“What’s the doctor have to say?”
“That I’m in excellent health. The baby’s growing by leaps and bounds. I haven’t felt him move yet, but—”
“Him?” James and Walter chimed in simultaneously.
“Or her,” she retorted, smiling. She stood and started to clear the table.
“Let me do that,” James insisted.
“I’m not helpless, you know,” Walter added.
Both men leapt from their chairs.
“Go have your coffee,” Summer told them. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to deal with the dishes.”
Walter shrugged, then looked at his son. “There are a few things I need to discuss with James,” he said.
“Then off with you.” She shooed them out of the kitchen.
James poured two cups of coffee and took them into the living room. He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “You’re sure?”
“James, honestly! Go talk to your father.”
Although she didn’t know Walter well, she sensed that something was on his mind. Throughout the meal she’d noticed the way he watched his son. James was acting odd, too.
Walter wanted to discuss the campaign, but every time he’d introduced the subject, James expertly changed it. He did it cleverly, but Walter had noticed, and after a while Summer had, too.
She ran tap water to rinse off the dinner plates before putting them in the dishwasher, and when she turned off the faucet she heard the end of James’s comment.
“…Summer doesn’t know.”
She hesitated. Apparently the two men didn’t realize how well their voices carried. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it did seem only fair to listen, since she was the topic of conversation.
“What do you plan to do about it?” his father asked.
It took James a long time to answer. “I haven’t decided.”
“Have you tried reasoning with him?”
“No,” James answered bitterly. “The man said he has doubts about my judgment. He’s insulted me, insulted my wife. I don’t need Southworth if he’s got an attitude like that.”
“But you will need a campaign manager.”
“Yes,” James admitted reluctantly.
So that was what this was about. Summer leaned against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes. Ralph had resigned, and from the evidence she’d seen, James had, too. Resigned himself to losing, even before the election. It didn’t sound like him.
“What’s the problem?” Walter asked as if reading Summer’s mind.
James lowered his voice substantially, and Summer had to strain to hear him. “He disapproves of Summer.”
“What?” Walter had no such compunction about keeping quiet. “The man’s crazy!”
“I’ve made a series of mistakes,” James said.
“Mistakes?”
“With Summer.”
The world collapsed, like a house falling in on itself. Summer struggled toward a chair and literally fell into it.
“I should never have married her the way I did,” James elaborated. “I cheated her out of the wedding she deserved. I don’t know if her mother’s forgiven me yet. The last I heard, her family’s planning a reception in November. By then the baby will be here and, well, it seems a little after the fact.”
“You can’t blame Summer for that.”
“I don’t,” James remarked tartly. “I blame myself. In retrospect I realize I was afraid of losing her. So I insisted on the marriage before she could change her mind.”
“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Ralph,” Walter muttered.
“Ralph thinks Summer’s too young for me.”
“Nonsense.”
“He also seems to think I’ve done myself harm by not letting everyone know immediately that I was married. Bringing Summer here to live with me now, pregnant, and saying we’ve been married all along, is apparently too convenient to believe.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You and I know that, but there’s already speculation.”
“So? People will always talk. Let them. But you’ve got to do something about getting this campaign organized. There are worse things you could be accused of than marrying in secret or getting Summer pregnant before your wedding day. As far as I’m concerned, Southworth’s looking for excuses.”
“I refuse to subject Summer to that kind of speculation,” James said stubbornly.
“Have you talked this over with her?”
“Not yet…”
“You haven’t?”
“I know, I know.” The defeatist attitude was back in James’s voice. “I’ve put it off longer than I should have.”
After that, Summer didn’t hear much more of the conversation between father and son. Their marriage had hurt her husband; it might have robbed him of his dreams, cheated him out of his goals.
The phone rang long before she had time to gather her thoughts. “I’ll get it,” she called out to James, and reached for the extension in the kitchen. Her hand trembled as she lifted the receiver.
“Hello,” she said, her voice weak.
“Hello,” came the soft feminine reply. “You don’t know me. My name’s Christy Manning Franklin.”
“Christy…Manning?” Summer said, stunned. She hadn’t recovered from one shock before she was hit with another. “Just a moment. I’ll get James.”
“No, please. It’s you I want to talk to.”
“Me?”
“From your reaction, I’d guess James has mentioned me.”
“Yes.” Summer slumped down in a chair and closed her eyes. “You and James were engaged at one time.”
“That’s right. I understand you and James recently got married.”
“Three months ago,” Summer said, embarrassed by how weak her voice still was. “In Las Vegas,” she added a little more loudly.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for being so forward. I talked it over with Cody—he’s my husband—and he said since I felt so strongly about it I should call you.”
“So strongly about what?”
“About you…and James. I’ll always regret the way I treated James. He deserved a lot better, but I was younger then. Immature in some ways. At one time I thought I was in love with him. I knew he loved me, and my family thought the world of him. Then I met Cody.” She hesitated. “I didn’t phone to tell you all this. I’m sure James filled in the details.”
“Why did you call?” Summer was sure that under other circumstances she might have liked Christy Franklin.
“I wanted to tell you how happy I am that James found someone to love. I know it’s presumptuous of me but I wanted to ask a favor of you.”
“A favor?” The woman had a lot of nerve.
“Love him with all your heart, Summer. James is a special, special man and he deserves a woman who’ll stand by his side and love him.”
“I do,” she said softly.
“For quite a while I despaired of James ever getting married. I can’t tell you how pleased I was when Mom phoned to tell me Rich and Jamie had met you. Cody and I want to extend our very best wishes to you both.”
“Thank you.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I do hope you’ll keep Cody and me in mind when you count your friends. There’s a place in my heart for James. He’s been a friend to our family for years. He was a tremendous help to Paul when Diane died, and again later when he married Leah. James helped Rich and Jamie, too, and he’s been a good friend to Jason and Charlotte, as well. We’re all indebted to him one way or another.”
“I do love him so much.” She was fighting back tears and not even sure what she was crying about. The fact that Ralph Southworth had resigned as James’s campaign manager because of her? Or that James’s ex-fiancée still cared for him deeply?
Su
mmer had just replaced the receiver when James stepped into the kitchen. He stood with one hand on the door.
“Who was that on the phone?” he asked.
Summer met his look straight on, waiting to read any emotion. “Christy Franklin.”
“Christy?” he repeated. “What did she want?” He looked more surprised than anything.
“She called to give us her and Cody’s best wishes. She said it was high time you were married and she can hardly wait to meet me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“And what did you tell her?”
Summer grinned. “I said she’s to keep her cotton-pickin’ hands off my husband.”
James chuckled, obviously delighted by her possessive attitude. “You aren’t going to get much of an argument from me.”
“Good thing,” she said, and slid her arm around his waist. Together they joined his father.
“I don’t understand it,” Summer muttered. She sucked in her stomach in order to close her skirt. “I can barely zip this up. It fit fine just last week.”
“Honey, you’re pregnant,” James said matter-of-factly.
“Three months. I’m not supposed to show yet.”
“You’re not?” James’s eyes left the mirror, his face covered with shaving cream. He carefully examined her rounded belly.
“Tell me the truth, James. If you were meeting me for the first time, would you guess I was pregnant?”
He frowned. “This isn’t one of those trick questions, is it?”
“No.”
“All right,” he said, then cleared his throat. He seemed to know intuitively that she wasn’t going to like the answer. “You do look pregnant to me. But then you are pregnant, so I don’t understand what the big deal is.”
“I’m fat already,” she wailed, and felt like breaking into tears.
“Fat is not the word I’d use to describe you.”
“If I’m showing at three months, can you just imagine what I’ll look like at nine?”
His grin revealed pride and love. “I’d say you’ll look like the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“No wonder I love you so much,” she told her husband, turning back to the closet. She sorted through the hangers, dismissing first one outfit and then another.
“Where are you going that you’re so worried about how you look?” James asked.
Summer froze. “An appointment.” She prayed he wouldn’t question her further. She’d arranged a meeting with Ralph Southworth, but she didn’t want James to know about it.
“Okay. Don’t forget tonight,” he reminded her. “We’re going to the Mannings’ for dinner.”
“I won’t forget,” she promised. “Eric and Elizabeth, right?”
“Right. Knowing Elizabeth, she’ll probably spend the whole day cooking. She’s called me at least five times in the past week. She’s anxious to meet you.”
“I’m anxious to meet them, too.” But not nearly as anxious as she was about this meeting with Southworth. In setting up the appointment, Summer hoped to achieve several objectives. Mainly she wanted Ralph to agree to manage James’s campaign again. And she wanted to prove to James that he didn’t need to protect her from gossip and speculation.
James left for court shortly after he’d finished shaving. Summer changed into the outfit she’d finally chosen, a soft gray business suit with a long jacket that—sort of—disguised her pregnancy. She spent the morning doing errands and arrived at Ralph’s office at the Seattle Bank ten minutes ahead of their one-o’clock appointment.
She announced her name to the receptionist and was escorted into Southworth’s office a few minutes later.
Ralph stood when she entered the room. He didn’t seem pleased to see her.
“Hello again,” she said brightly, taking the chair across from his desk. She wanted it understood that she wouldn’t be easily dissuaded.
“Hello,” he responded curtly.
“I hope you don’t object to my making an appointment to see you. I’m afraid I may have, uh, misled your secretary into thinking it had to do with a loan.”
“I see. Are you in the habit of misleading people?”
“Not at all,” she assured him with a cordial smile, “but sometimes a little inventive thinking is worth a dozen frustrating phone calls.”
Southworth didn’t agree or disagree.
“I’ll get to the point of my visit,” she said, not wanting to waste time, his or hers.
“Please do.”
“I’d like to know why you’ve resigned as my husband’s campaign manager.”
Southworth rolled a pencil between his palms, avoiding eye contact. “I believe that’s between James and me. It has nothing to do with you.”
“That isn’t the way I understand it,” she said, grateful he’d opened the conversation for her. “I overheard James and his father talking recently, and James said something different.”
“So you eavesdrop, as well?”
He was certainly eager to tally her less than sterling characteristics.
“Yes, but in this case, I’m glad I did because I learned that you’d resigned because of me.”
Southworth hesitated. “Not exactly. I questioned James’s judgment.”
“About our marriage?” she pressed.
Once again he seemed inclined to dodge the subject. “I don’t really think…”
“I do, Mr. Southworth. This election is extremely important to James. You’re extremely important to him. When he first mentioned your name to me, he said you were the best man for the job.”
“I am the best man for the job.” The banker certainly didn’t lack confidence in his abilities. “I also know a losing battle when I see it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Mrs. Wilkens, please.”
“Please what, Mr. Southworth? Tell me why you question James’s judgment. Until he married me, you were ready to lend him your full support. I can assure you I’ll stay right here until I have the answers to these questions.” She raised her chin a stubborn half inch and refused to budge.
“If you insist…”
“I do.”
“First, you’re years younger than James.”
“Nine years is hardly that much of a difference. This is a weak excuse and unworthy of you. I do happen to look young for my age, but I can assure you I’m twenty-eight, and James is only thirty-seven.”
“There’s also the fact that you’re a showgirl.”
“I’m an actress and singer,” she countered. “Since I worked at Disneyland, I hardly think you can fault my morals.”
“Morals is another issue entirely.”
“Obviously,” she said, finding she disliked this man more every time he opened his mouth. It seemed to her that Ralph Southworth was inventing excuses, none of which amounted to anything solid.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yes. So?”
“So…it’s clear to me, at least, that you and James conveniently decided to marry when you recognized your condition.”
Summer laughed. “That’s not true, and even if it were, all I need to do is produce our marriage certificate, which I just happen to have with me.” Somehow or other she knew it would come down to this. She opened her purse and removed the envelope, then handed it to the man whom her husband had once considered his friend.
Southworth read it over and returned it to her. “I don’t understand why the two of you did this. No one meets in Vegas, falls in love and gets married within a few days. Not unless they’ve got something to hide.”
“We’re in love.” She started to explain that she and James had known each other for a year, but Ralph cut her off.
“Please, Mrs. Wilkens! I’ve known James for at least a decade. There had to be a reason other than the one you’re giving me.”
“He loves me. Isn’t that good enough for you?”
Southworth seemed bored with the conversation. “Then there’s the fact
that he kept the marriage a secret.”
Summer had no answer to that. “I don’t really know why James didn’t tell anyone about the wedding,” she admitted. “My guess is that it’s because he’s a private man and considers his personal life his own.”
“How far along is the pregnancy?” he asked, ignoring her answer.
“Three months,” she told him.
“Three months? I don’t claim to know much about women and babies, but I’ve had quite a few women work for me at the bank over the years. A number of them have had babies. You look easily five or six months.”
“That’s ridiculous! I know when I got pregnant.”
“Do you, now?”
Summer drew in her breath and held it for a moment in an effort to contain her outrage. She loved James and believed in him, but she refused to be insulted.
“I can see we aren’t going to accomplish anything here,” she said sadly. “You’ve already formed your opinion about James and me.”
“About you, Mrs. Wilkens. It’s unfortunate. James would’ve made an excellent superior court judge. But there’s been far too much speculation about him lately. It started with the black eye. People don’t want a man on the bench who can’t hold on to his own temper. A judge should be above any hint of moral weakness.”
“James is one of the most morally upright men I know,” she said heatedly. “I take your comments as a personal insult to my husband.”
“I find your loyalty to James touching, but it’s too little, too late.”
“What do you mean by that?” Summer demanded.
“You want your husband to win the election, don’t you?”
“Yes. Of course.” The question was ludicrous.
“If I were to tell you that you could make a difference, perhaps even sway the election, would you listen?”
“I’d listen,” she said, although anything beyond listening was another matter.
Southworth stood and walked over to the window, which offered a panoramic view of the Seattle skyline. His back was to her and for several minutes he said nothing. He seemed to be weighing his words.
“You’ve already admitted I’m the best man to run James’s campaign.”
“Yes,” she said reluctantly, not as willing to acknowledge it as she had been when she’d first arrived.
“I can help win him this September’s primary and the November election. Don’t discount the political sway I have in this community, Mrs. Wilkens.”
The Manning Grooms Page 32
