Baby Blessed

by Debbie Macomber

But there was more to his determination to attend this family event than sharing in Kati’s happiness, Jordan had to admit.

  True, this wedding was an excellent way of broadcasting his divorce from Molly. He would use it to introduce the woman he intended to marry, but it was also his way of proving to himself that the marriage was completely over.

  Inviting Lesley had been a calculated risk on his part and Jordan had weighed the decision carefully. If he attended the wedding alone, it was a foregone conclusion that at least one of Molly’s aunts would take it upon herself to speak to him and possibly Molly about the breakup of their marriage.

  By bringing Lesley with him, he was making a statement to all concerned that the divorce was imminent. Any well-meaning advice at this point would be irrelevant.

  Decision made, he invited Lesley. When he picked her up on Saturday, he thought she’d never looked lovelier. She was a wonderful person and she cared deeply for him. They would make a good life together. Jordan didn’t know why he found it necessary to remind himself of that so often. He’d be glad when this divorce was over and done with.

  And yet…he couldn’t make himself stop feeling guilty. Not that he knew what he had to feel guilty about. Molly was the one who’d abandoned him. She’d been away for three years.

  All right, so he’d made an idiot of himself in Africa, but under the circumstances, that seemed forgivable. As for the divorce, he’d bent over backward to be fair in his settlement offer. More than fair. All he was asking for was his freedom. There wasn’t a single reason he should feel the way he did.

  “You seem very absorbed,” Lesley commented as they drove to the church.

  Lesley often sensed his mood. He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I was just doing a little thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Our wedding,” he lied, and the words nearly caught in his throat. “We should start making the arrangements soon.”

  “I’m not in any rush and I don’t think you should be, either.”

  Her hesitation surprised him.

  “Why not?”

  “Jordan, a divorce takes time.”

  “It’s just a few more weeks!”

  “I don’t mean legally, I mean personally. You’ll need to grieve the loss of your marriage before we can make any wedding plans ourselves.”

  “Grieve the loss of my marriage,” he repeated impatiently. What did she think he’d been doing for the past three years?

  “You’ll understand more once it’s final,” Lesley added with a sigh.

  He didn’t know what had made her such an expert and bit his tongue to keep from saying so. The last thing he wanted to do was argue, especially now.

  “Fine, whatever you say,” he muttered as they approached the church.

  Finding a parking place was a struggle, and his mood hadn’t improved by the time the ushers seated them on the bride’s side of the church. The first person he saw, two rows up from him and Lesley, was Molly, sitting beside her father. She was wearing a pretty outfit with a red blazer and a pleated red-and-white flowered skirt. He remembered it from years earlier and how she’d had trouble fitting back into it after Jeffrey was born. It fit her just fine now. Just fine.

  Thankfully they didn’t need to wait long before the organ music swelled and the bridesmaids marched ceremonially down the center aisle. Jordan stood with the others when Kati appeared on her father’s arm.

  Uncomfortable emotions began to stir memories of his and Molly’s wedding. They’d been so much in love. They were young, younger than they should’ve been, and crazy about each other.

  Jordan vividly recalled the moment Ian had escorted Molly down the same church aisle and how he’d stood at the altar waiting for her, thinking he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. He remembered the vows he’d spoken that day and how his voice had shaken with the intensity of what he was feeling. He’d meant every word.

  Molly had looked up at him, her eyes filled with devotion as she’d repeated her own vows. Jordan could remember thinking he’d rather die than stop loving her.

  The years hadn’t changed that. He did love Molly. Not in the same way he had the day he married her. Over time his love had matured, just as he had. He remembered when Jeffrey was born—

  His thoughts came to a grinding halt, and he gave himself a mental shake, refusing to drag his son into this.

  Everyone sat back down and Jordan was grateful. Not because standing had become a burden, but the change gave him the opportunity to focus his attention on the bride and groom and push the memories of his own long-ago wedding out of his mind.

  That, however, proved to be impossible. Kati and Matt seemed intent on having everyone join in as they exchanged their vows. Lesley reached for his hand, and for the briefest of moments he was surprised to realize she was with him. It shocked him to look down and find a woman other than Molly standing at his side. To his credit, he recovered quickly.

  Jordan tucked Lesley’s hand in his elbow and patted it, hoping to assure her of his devotion. He did care for her, but he didn’t love her, not the way he’d loved Molly.

  But that stood to reason, he told himself. Of course he loved Molly. They’d been married—and would be for several more weeks. They had a history together. What Lesley had said earlier about needing to grieve for their marriage made sense. He didn’t have to wear sackcloth and ashes, but he needed to accept that an important part of his life had ended. A defining part of his life.

  Before he knew it, Kati and Matt were kissing, to the approval of their guests. Smiling, they hurried down the aisle, arm in arm, their happiness glowing. He and Molly had been that happy once.

  The reception was being held at the country club, the same one where he and Molly had held theirs. Jordan hadn’t made the connection until they arrived. He wished now that he’d mailed Kati her gift and left it at that.

  The valet parked his car, and Jordan and Lesley walked through the clubhouse and onto the lush green grass where the dinner and dance would take place. The yard was beautifully decorated with Chinese lanterns and round tables and white wooden chairs. The food was exquisitely displayed on long linen-covered tables beneath the canopies.

  It all looked far too familiar.…

  By then he was beginning to have second thoughts about the wisdom of following through with this. He decided to drop off his gift, congratulate the newlyweds, make his excuses and leave. He felt sure that Lesley would understand.

  “Jordan Larabee, my goodness, is that you?”

  He found himself face-to-face with Molly’s aunt Johanna. He loved her dearly, but the woman was a born meddler. “Aunt Johanna,” he said, hugging her. When he finished, he placed his arm around Lesley’s shoulders. “I’d like to introduce you to Lesley Walker, my fiancée.”

  Aunt Johanna giggled as if she’d heard a joke. “How can you be engaged when you’re married to Molly? You’d think it was April Fool’s instead of May.”

  Jordan wished he’d warned Lesley. “Molly and I are getting divorced,” he explained. “And I’ve asked Lesley to be my wife.”

  Aunt Johanna’s face turned a bright shade of pink. “Oh, Jordan, I’m so sorry to hear that. I mean, it’s sad for Molly, but good for… Oh, dear,” she said, pressing her hands to her face. “I’m doing this all wrong.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” Lesley said, her natural graciousness taking over. “It was an honest mistake.”

  Jordan was grateful for her handling of the uncomfortable scene.

  “It was, uh, good to see you again,” Molly’s aunt said, making a hasty exit.

  “I’m sorry,” Jordan whispered. And he was. He should have told her what to expect and wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive to her feelings.

  “Jordan, it wasn’t that big a deal.”

  “We’ll make our excuses and leave.”

  Lesley rested her hand on his arm. “We most certainly will not. Leaving now will embarrass poor Aunt Johanna a
nd leave Molly to make lengthy explanations. The last thing she needs is to explain what you were doing here with another woman.”

  Lesley was right. “We’ll stay no more than an hour, though. Agreed?”

  “Perfect,” Lesley said, smiling up at him. “It’s going to be all right, darling, I promise.”

  Lesley didn’t often use affectionate terms and the fact that she did now came as a surprise. Not until later did he realize she was staking her claim. That pleased him. Lesley wasn’t immune to a few pangs of jealousy.

  Jordan was even more surprised to realize he wasn’t exempt from being visited by the green-eyed monster himself. Only the source was Molly. Once the meal had been served, the band struck up and space was cleared for dancing.

  Jordan had originally intended to stay only for the first few dances, the traditional ones between bride and groom, but before he knew it he was on the dance floor, enjoying himself with Lesley.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let go like this. He was shocked by how good it felt to throw back his head and laugh.

  Then he saw Molly, dancing.

  The sight of her in the arms of another man had a curious effect on him. He felt like he’d been punched in the head.

  He didn’t give any outward indication of what he felt, although he made an excuse to leave the dance floor soon afterward.

  “Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Lesley said. “We were just getting started.”

  “I need something to drink.” Jordan grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as he walked past. He preferred red wine to champagne, but it was any port in a storm, so to speak, and he felt as if he’d been hit by hurricane-force winds.

  It took some doing to divert his gaze from Molly and her partner, and focus his attention on Lesley instead. He didn’t recognize the tall, good-looking man with his soon-to-be ex-wife. He held her in a possessive way that incensed Jordan—even if he had no right to feel that way.

  Thankfully there were plenty of acquaintances to renew, plenty of people to occupy him until he decided what he was going to do. If anything.

  Carrying his champagne glass, Jordan circulated, introducing Lesley and doing his best to ignore the fact that his wife was in the arms of another man.

  “Hello, Jordan, it’s good to see you.”

  “Ian,” Jordan said, courteously inclining his head. “Have you met Lesley Walker?”

  “Hello, Lesley,” Ian said, taking her hand and holding it in both of his. His father-in-law had always been a consummate charmer, and Lesley responded immediately, laughing and chatting.

  However, she must have guessed that Ian wanted to speak privately to Jordan because a few minutes later, she quietly slipped away.

  “You’re looking good,” Ian said and slapped him on the back. “Recovered from your little adventure, I see.”

  Jordan frowned. “I’m fine. Get to it, Ian.”

  “Get to it?” The old man raised his eyebrows, doing a fair job of pretending.

  “Just say what you want to say,” Jordan told him.

  Ian seemed amused. “I don’t have anything important to say,” Ian murmured, but his mouth quivered. “That might not be the case with my daughter, however. When was the last time you talked to her?”

  “This week, why?”

  “Why?” Ian said, breaking into a smile. “You’ll need to ask her that.”

  “I will.” This was just the excuse Jordan had been looking for. He set his champagne glass aside and walked onto the dance floor. Molly’s eyes widened with surprise when he tapped her partner on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in,” he said without apology. And proceeded to do exactly that.

  “Jordan,” she said, staring up at him, “that was downright rude.”

  He didn’t have a word to say in his own defense, so he let the comment drop. “What’s your father grinning about?” he demanded.

  Molly’s gaze darted away from his. “Nothing,” she answered smoothly. “You know my how my dad gets sometimes. If…he’s bothering you, I’ll be happy to say something to him.”

  She did a commendable job of disguising whatever she was feeling. Jordan might have believed her if he hadn’t felt her stiffen in his arms the moment he mentioned Ian.

  “Tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “What could I possibly have to say at this point?”

  She felt good there, in his embrace, and after a couple of minutes he forgot why he’d asked her to dance and enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her.

  “It was a beautiful wedding,” he said. His remark was merely a way to continue the conversation.

  “It reminded me of our own.” As soon as Molly admitted that, he knew she regretted it. “The comparison is inevitable, really. The same church—and our reception was held here, too, remember? We also invited a lot of the same guests.”

  “Don’t worry, I know what you’re saying.” Of course she’d noticed the things he had, felt the same brooding emotions.

  Jordan wondered what she’d been thinking while Kati and Matt exchanged their wedding vows. He wondered if she remembered how his voice had shaken or how her eyes had filled with tears. Did the memory of how desperately they’d been in love come back to her, too?

  The music stopped and he had a difficult time dropping his arms and stepping away from her.

  “You’d better get back to Lesley,” she whispered.

  Lesley. He’d nearly forgotten her. “Yeah. Your dance partner’s throwing daggers my way, as well.” It was a weak attempt at a joke. A weak attempt at getting the information he wanted about the other man.

  Molly was kind enough to smile. “David’s not like that.”

  “Who is he?” Jordan asked, hoping to sound casual and approving.

  “David Stern. Dr. David Stern. He works at Sinai. We met last week.”

  “He’s your date,” Jordan said, stunned by the realization. He hadn’t been aware of Stern at the church, but that was understandable. His gaze hadn’t moved past Molly in her cheery red suit and broad-rimmed white hat. It hadn’t occurred to him to notice the man who was standing next to her.

  “Not really,” Molly was quick to tell him. “David’s a family friend of Matt’s. I didn’t realize he knew Matt, and David didn’t know Kati was my cousin. We’d both talked about attending a wedding on Saturday without realizing it was the same one.”

  “I see,” Jordan said stiffly. He didn’t like Stern. Dr. Stern, he corrected.

  “Lesley looks very nice,” Molly said, glancing behind him.

  “Have you talked to your aunt Johanna lately?” Jordan said as they walked off the dance floor. He was making excuses to linger and knew it, although he didn’t understand why. Nor did he want to know.

  “Apparently she wasn’t aware we’re getting a divorce,” Molly said, answering his unspoken question. “You needn’t worry. Word will get around fast now. Aunt Johanna is the family gossip. Everyone who’s even distantly related will hear the news by nightfall.” Her smile was forced, but only someone who knew Molly well would see that. “I hope she didn’t embarrass you.”

  “No,” Jordan muttered. “What about you?”

  “Not in the least. It’s better if people know as soon as possible, don’t you think?” She seemed eager to leave now, looking around as if she was trying to locate her precious David.

  “I’d better get back to Lesley,” he said, making his own excuses. “It was good dancing with you again.”

  “You, too.” How polite they sounded, as though they were little more than strangers. That was the way it would have to be, he told himself. They had no future, only a painful past.

  Jordan watched as she moved across the dance floor. Instead of finding David Stern, she took the most direct route to her father’s side. Even from this distance he could see that she was irritated with Ian. His father-in-law didn’t seem upset by her chastisement, reaching for a glass
of champagne halfway through her tirade.

  Apparently there was some basis to Ian’s I-know-something-you-don’t smile. Jordan wondered what it was, but he supposed he’d find out soon enough.

  * * *

  Monday morning Jordan received a call from Michael Rife. “I just got the court docket, and the final hearing is set for Thursday afternoon.”

  “That soon?”

  “Count your blessings,” Rife went on to say. “If Molly had wanted to, she could’ve tied you up in court for years.”

  “But it hasn’t been the full sixty days.”

  His lawyer hesitated. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Jordan snapped. “Fine, I’ll be in court Thursday afternoon. What time?”

  Michael told him. Jordan stared at the receiver for long minutes afterward. Thursday afternoon would be the end of his marriage. Thursday afternoon some judge he’d never seen before would pound his gavel and his life with Molly would end.

  He waited until he suspected she’d be home from work before he called her. She answered on the third ring; her voice was thin as if she were ill and trying not to show it.

  “It’s Jordan,” he announced. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She sure didn’t sound like it. “Have you got the flu?”

  “Something like that.”

  He would’ve liked to question her more, but didn’t know how to pursue it. “I got a call from Michael Rife this afternoon,” he said, moving on to the purpose of his call. “The divorce will be final on Thursday.”

  “Will I need to be in court?”

  “No. Not unless you want to be.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I was the one who filed, so I’ll go. Do you want me to call you afterward?”

  She hesitated as if this was a momentous decision. “That won’t be necessary. Thursday it is, then. Thank you for letting me know.”

  It seemed crass to tell her she was welcome. Crass to thank her for the good years they’d shared. Now didn’t seem the time to tell her how sorry he was about Jeffrey, either, or to apologize for failing them both.