The Future Widows' Club

by Rhonda Russell

  And he’d been right. She could be dead by the time they finished what would be considered a proper courtship. Furthermore, she’d waited long enough. She didn’t want to wait anymore.

  A flashlight blinked on right in front of her, blinding her, and with a startled yelp, she fell backward on her ass. What the hell?

  “Good evening, Sophia.”

  Edward?

  Horrified, Sophia scrambled up and goggled at him. “What-- How--“

  “I followed you.” His gaze dropped to the bag in her hand and he chuckled softly. “Catnip. Very crafty. I suspected as much.”

  Sophia had never been good with feminine wiles, so when she found herself in this horrible position, she didn’t even bother. Instead, she threatened him. “Look, Edward. I don’t know what you hope to gain by following me here, but if you’ve enjoyed our recent exercise--“

  “Exercise?”

  “You know what I mean,” she snapped, blushing to the roots of her hair.

  “It’s sex, Sophia. We’re having sex.”

  Though they were hidden behind eight feet of dense shrubbery, Sophia glanced around to make sure no one could see them. “Would you hush, please?” she begged, scandalized. “Sweet Jesus. What the hell are you doing here?”

  He blinked at her. “I came to help.”

  Once again she found herself dumbfounded. “What?”

  “Jimmy Pickens, the Beautification Award?” he scoffed, his usually amiable face dressed in a frown. “The man doesn’t know his mulch from molasses. It’s outrageous.” He reached for the bag. “Give me some of that, would you? I’ll take the other side of the house.”

  True to his word, Edward moved around to the other side and left a shocked but delighted Sophia squatted behind the mayor’s shrubs.

  That settles it, she thought as the smell of skunk all but choked her--she’d found her man.

  After all, it wasn’t just any guy who’d be willing to vandalize with her.

  CHAPTER 28

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Jake asked. “Just a couple of weeks old and already the little guy is showing attitude.”

  Marzipan’s colt, the one they’d named Ash because he’d ended up being a paler version of his father, galloped clumsily around the enclosure on tall, spindly legs.

  Jolie chuckled, pressed her head against his upper arm, and the tender, unexpected warmth moved into his chest.

  Contentment, Jake realized.

  For the first time since they’d broken up, he was happy. Despite the two-year gap in their relationship, amazingly they’d picked up almost precisely where they’d left off, only at a better place because they both knew how precious their time together--their relationship, specifically--was.

  Since the evening the colt was born, they hadn’t spent a night apart. For all the work that Jolie had done on her little house, she’d easily started calling his place home--which was only fitting because it should have been hers all along--and had quickly relegated the Lelia Street house into a full-fledged office.

  Aside from the bed--which they’d left to accommodate nooner’s--everything else had been moved to the farm. Coming home to her was the highlight of his day. Be it in sweats or a negligee--and admittedly he had a thing for the black merry widow--when he walked through that door, she made him feel like she’d been waiting for him all day, whether she had been or not. Those slim arms would come around his waist, she’d lean up and kiss his chin, and regardless of what had happened during the course of the day, at that moment, everything became right in his world.

  Because he was with her.

  Jake curled his arm around her neck, propelling her reluctantly away from the paddock. “Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Her hip bumped his as they walked along. “You do? What is it?”

  “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  He opened the truck door for her, waited for her to slide in. “Can’t fault a girl for tryin’, can you?”

  Jake joined her in the truck, aimed it toward one of their favorite hangouts and waited for her to realize where they were going. When it turned off on Rabbit Trail Lane, she figured it out and sent him a sidelong glance. “The fire tower?” she asked, surprised. “Wow,” she breathed. “I haven’t been out here in years.”

  Him either. He hadn’t been able to go once they’d broken up. It had been too hard. He and Jolie had spent hours up in the loft, had plotted, planned, necked and loved up there and somehow making the trek up the stairs alone had never been something he could do.

  He wheeled the truck off the main road, followed the rutted dirt lane until they were parked right next to it. Jolie didn’t wait for him to open the door, but got out, shaded her eyes and looked up. “Yep. It’s still tall.”

  Jake felt a chuckle bubble up his throat. “What? You think it’s gonna shrink?”

  She shot him a droll look. “Smart ass.”

  He put a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “You go first,” he said as they walked to the steps.

  She turned, green eyes twinkling with warm affection. “So you can catch me if I fall?”

  That was the plan, Jake thought, falling in behind her. They’d always done it that way. She went up first, so that he could catch her, and he came down first for the very same reason. He wanted his body between her and possible danger.

  Jolie hurried up ahead of him and mere minutes later they were at the top looking out over Bless Her Heart. It was gorgeous. The late afternoon sun glided the trees, sparkled over the river, painting it bright orange.

  Jolie braced her elbows against the rail and let go a soft sigh that hissed through his blood. Jake moved in behind her, wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m not going to fall,” she admonished softly.

  “I know that,” he told her. “I just want to hold you.”

  In fact, he wanted to hold her forever. He’d proposed to her in this very spot when they were sixteen, and somehow it seemed only fitting that they revisit it for the encore. Jake gripped her shoulders, and slowly turned her around, then pulled in a shuddering breath and groped in his front pocket for the ring he’d placed there.

  She gasped when she saw it and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Jake,” she said, her voice clogged with emotion.

  He chuckled nervously, took her hand and slipped it on her finger. “You’re going marry me.”

  She blinked, smiled. “Is that a proposal?”

  He cocked his head. “More like an edict.”

  She pulled back, glared at him. “Oh, really.”

  “Someone told me to start as I mean to go on.” He winced. “It’s not going work, is it? The whole lord-of-the-manor, do-as-I-say-woman approach?”

  She ducked her head, bit her lip to hide a smile. “No.”

  Jake heaved a dramatic sigh. “Fine. In that case, Jolie Michelle Caplan...will you marry me?”

  Her misty eyes searched his. “Yes,” she breathed, then tilted her chin up and offered him her lips. He didn’t know how long they kissed, how long they stood there. Time, at least in this dimension of happiness, didn’t exist.

  When the sun finally slipped beneath the treetops, Jake decided they’d better go down. He placed another lingering kiss on her mouth, then reluctantly made the trip back to the ground.

  He was debating the merit of going out for dinner versus staying in and eating her, when he opened the car door and her purse fell to the ground, spilling all the contents.

  Jake swore. “Sorry,” he muttered and instantly dropped down and starting gathering things up. He picked up a compact, a tube of lipstick her wallet and...his gaze zeroed in on a little pink book with a hat and gloves on the cover, similar to the pin she’d taken to wearing since the night she’d gotten hammered at her so-called bridge meeting.

  “Don’t worry about...” Her voice trailed off as she looked up and saw what he held. She swallowed. “Jake, could I have that back please?”

  Jake looked away, summone
d patience. This was the key to what she’d been hiding; he knew it. And yet despite the fact that she’d just agreed to marry him, she still wanted to keep secrets? “Jolie, you can trust me. Let me prove it,” he implored.

  Looking like she couldn’t decide whether to puke or bolt, she chewed her bottom lip and whimpered.

  “Jolie.”

  She finally met his gaze. “Jake if you look inside that little book, you have to swear to me that you’ll never--and I repeat never--repeat a word of it to another living soul.”

  Geez, from the way she was carrying on you’d think she had the map to the Holy Grail in there. Jake nodded. “Okay.”

  She let go a breath. “Then you can look at it. But brace yourself,” she added direly.

  Jake flipped the little book open, read the title page and felt his eyes widen in shock. “The Future Widows’ Club? What the hell is the Future Widows’ Club?”

  “Read on,” she said miserably. “You’ll figure it out.”

  Five minutes later, he closed the little book and though he knew what it was--and better still why she’d added the life insurance, checked out the burial plans and bought the outfit--he wasn’t any closer to understanding it. “Let me get this straight,” Jake said, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. “You’re in a secret society of women who are anxiously waiting for their husbands to die?”

  She nodded.

  He frowned. “And this is where you were at the night Chris was murdered? At one of these meetings?”

  She nodded again.

  “Christ.” Jake looked away. “Jolie, for the love of God. Why didn’t you think this was relevant?”

  “Because I didn’t do it.”

  “I know that. Still...”

  “I needed them,” she said simply. “I was only a member for a couple of weeks before Chris died, but out of the past two years, they were the best weeks of my life.” Seemingly exasperated, she looked away. “You’re a guy. You’re just not going to get it. I didn’t want Chris to be dead, not really...but until I could file for divorce it was the best thing I had.” She swallowed. “And it’s all they’ve got. You can’t take it away from them.”

  Knowing how miserable she’d been, Jake did understand. Did he agree with it? No. But, in all honesty, he didn’t see the harm. He let go a breath. “I just have one question.”

  She looked up and quirked a cautious brow. “What?”

  “Are you going to remain a member when I’m your husband?”

  Her lips curled and she pulled a lazy shrug. “Lifetime membership,” she said. “But I’ll be mentoring to future widows rather than preparing to be one.”

  Jake cocked his head. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

  She gazed at him questioningly. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say about it?”

  “Was I supposed to say more? They’re not hurting anybody are they?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t see the problem.”

  A slow grin spread across her lips and those pale green eyes danced with affection. “I love you.”

  “I know,” he said, placing a quick but tender kiss on her lips. “Which is the only reason you get to keep playing bridge.”

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later...

  “I’ll be home before nine.”

  Jolie’s heart warmed as Jake kissed her cheek, then rubbed her belly. “You’d better be,” he told her. “Mothers-to-be need their rest.” He frowned. “And try not to get too upset, would you? Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I could--”

  Jolie blinked back tears and shook her head. “No. You can’t. You know that.” No one in the FWC knew that Jake knew about them. They’d worry, and in light of recent events, they had all of that they could handle at the moment. Jolie swallowed tightly.

  They’d buried Bitsy today.

  “At least let me take you. You can call when you’re ready and I’ll come pick you up.”

  “I can drive, Jake,” she said. “I’m only pregnant, not on medication.”

  “I know. I’d just feel better if--“

  She gave him another peck and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Jolie slid behind the wheel and made her way to Meredith’s on autopilot. She still couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that Bitsy was really gone. Granted Jolie had only known her for a little under a year, but she’d grown very fond of the somewhat eccentric older women. But the worst part was looking at Sophia and Meredith. They’d been shattered, particularly Meredith who’d warned Bitsy about getting the little motorcycle, which had ultimately caused her death. Too vain to wear her glasses beneath the helmet, she’d crashed it through Dilly’s Bakery. The impact hadn’t killed her, but the heart attack which had immediately followed had.

  Sophia had come up to her at the funeral and told her that Bitsy’s attorney had been to see her and that apparently Bitsy had left a box to be opened in the event of her death. Per Bitsy’s written instructions, only Sophia, Meredith, Jolie and curiously, Sadie, were allowed to be present when the box was opened. Meredith had asked her to come early tonight. They were going to go through it before the rest of the FWC arrived. Jolie couldn’t imagine what on earth could be in the box that could pertain to her, but wasn’t about to ignore one of Bitsy’s last wishes.

  Eyes puffy and her face generally wracked with grief, Meredith answered her knock when she arrived. “Come in, dear,” she said. “We’re gonna open it in the back parlor.”

  Jolie nodded and somberly followed her to the back the house into a room she’d never been in before. Windows lined the back wall, which overlooked a small enclosed garden with a big brick barbeque pit. “How are you feeling?” she asked, no doubt referring to the pregnancy.

  Jolie managed a genuine smile. “Huge.” Finding out that she was pregnant with Jake’s baby had been a dream come true. She’d taken a broken road, but had finally ended up on the right one.

  With him.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been involved with Chris, embroiled in a horrible nightmare of a marriage, and as a result of that disaster, there wasn’t a day that went by that she wasn’t thankful for Jake, for his love and the relationship they shared.

  He completed her.

  There were times when she just looked at him and her heart would expand and she could barely catch her breath. Times when he dozed off, and she lay awake in their bed just so she could watch him sleep. Times when she woke him up because sleeping was the furthest thing from her mind. Be it merely holding hands or making love, he moved her in a way that defied reason and trumped logic. She could feel him in her bones, in her blood, and knowing that they’d created this little life inside her belly was a divine joy that often brought tears to her eyes.

  Managing to look both strong and shattered, Sophia stood when they walked in. “Hello, dear.”

  Jolie’s eyes misted and she crossed the room and hugged her. “I’m so sorry,” she said, knowing it was inadequate. She couldn’t even imagine a life without her best friend, going on in a world where Sadie didn’t exist. As if on cue, Sadie made her way into the room.

  “Thanks for coming, Sadie,” Meredith told her.

  Looking slightly bewildered, Sadie nodded, sent Jolie a curiously nervous look.

  Sophia pulled in a bolstering breath. “Well, the suspense has been killing me all day, so let’s just go ahead and get it over with. Knowing Bitsy, it’s her damned coupons,” she said, her voice a poignant cross between a laugh and a sob.

  Openly crying, Meredith giggled. “You open it, Sophia.”

  Sophia nodded, picked up a pair of scissors and cut into the box, then lifted the lid and pulled out a letter.

  Dear girls,

  If you’re reading this letter, then I’m dead. (Well, that goes without saying, doesn’t it?) Anyway, now that I’m gone there’s no reason to keep hiding these things from you. In this box you will find some things that, at first, will appear od
d--a couple of syringes, a crochet mallet, a gun, a pair of scissors and a bath towel--

  Sophia looked up and frowned, then resumed reading.

  For the past decade or so I’ve kept a secret, one that I knew that I’d have to take to my grave. (Somebody see to it every once in a while, would you? I like daisies.) Sophia, Meredith, I know you think your husbands--and even mine--died of natural causes. Well, you thought wrong. I killed them. A healthy shot of vitamin K induced those random heart attacks mine and yours had, Sophia, and the crocket mallet sent your husband down that mountain, Meri. (He was drunk. The damned fool would have eventually done it to himself anyway, goin’ on all those infernal nature hikes.)

  Meredith inhaled sharply, Sophia’s face had gone chalk white and Jolie had had to find a place to sit. She knew what was coming, but she simply couldn’t believe it.

  Could not make it compute.

  Sweet little scattered Bitsy? A cold-blooded killer?

  Her gaze shot to Sadie, who seemed curiously reluctant to look at her.

  As for you, Jolie, I just felt so sorry for you that I had to do something, bless your heart. That SOB you were married to didn’t deserve to live. Shooting him was planned. Cutting his penis off with my sewing shears and gluing it to the statue wasn’t, but it was pure genius if you ask me. Sadie, you’re here because I know you saw me altering dear old Jebediah and yet you never told.

  Jolie inhaled sharply and her gaze swung to Sadie. “You knew?” she breathed.

  Sadie shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t tell on her for having the courage to do what I couldn’t,” she explained. “It wasn’t right.”

  Sophia and Meredith shared a look, then Sophia let go a small breath and continued reading.