Married in Seattle

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Married in Seattle Page 3

by Debbie Macomber


  “But, Gramps, that was nearly sixty years ago! Marriages aren’t decided by families anymore. A man and a woman discover each other without a father introducing them. Maybe the old ways were better back then, but it’s simply not like that now.” Gramps continued to stare into his glass, lost in a world long since enveloped by the passage of time.

  “The next day, Anna’s parents visited our farm and again our two fathers spoke. I tried to pretend I wasn’t concerned, determined to accept whatever our families decided. But when I saw our fathers shake hands and slap each other on the back, I knew Anna would soon be mine.”

  “You loved her before you were married, didn’t you?” Janine asked softly, hoping to prove her point.

  “No,” he returned flatly, without hesitation. “How could I love her when I’d only seen her twice before the wedding? We hadn’t said more than a handful of words to each other. Love wasn’t necessary for us to find happiness. Love came later, after we arrived in America.”

  “Wasn’t it unusual for a marriage to be arranged even then? It wasn’t that long ago.” There had to be some point for her to contend, Janine mused.

  “Perhaps it was unusual in other parts of the world, but not in Vibiskgrad. We were a small farming community. Our world had been ravaged by war and hate. We clung to each other, holding on to our own traditions and rituals. Soon our lives became impossible and we were forced to flee our homes.”

  “As I said before, I can understand how an arranged marriage—back then—might be the best for everyone involved. But I can’t see it working in this day and age. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Gramps, but I’m not willing to accept Zachary Thomas as my husband, and I’m sure he’d be equally unwilling to marry me.”

  Briefly Gramps’s face tensed with a rare display of disappointment and indignation, then quickly relaxed. Janine had seldom questioned his authority and had never openly defied him.

  “I suppose this is a shock to you, isn’t it?” he said.

  If it astonished her, she couldn’t wait to hear what Zachary Thomas thought! They’d only met once, but he hadn’t disguised his opinion of her. He wouldn’t take kindly to Gramps’s plan of an arranged marriage—especially to a woman he viewed as spoiled and overindulged.

  “All I’m asking is that you consider this, Janine,” Gramps said. “Promise me you’ll at least do that. Don’t reject marriage to Zach simply because you think it’s old-fashioned.”

  “Oh, Gramps…” Janine hated to refuse him anything. “It isn’t just me. What about Zach? What about his plans? What if he—”

  Gramps dismissed her questions with an abrupt shrug. “How often do I ask something of you?” he persisted.

  Now he was going to use guilt. “Not often,” she agreed, frowning at him for using unfair tactics.

  “Then consider Zach for your husband!” His eyes brightened. “The two of you will have such beautiful children. A grandfather knows these things.”

  “I promise I’ll think about it.” But it wouldn’t do any good! However, discretion was a virtue Janine was nurturing, and there’d never been a better time to employ it than now.

  Gramps didn’t mention Zach Thomas or even hint at the subject of her marrying his business partner again until the following evening. They’d just sat down to dinner, prepared to sample Mrs. McCormick’s delicious fare, when Gramps looked anxiously at Janine. “So?” he asked breathlessly.

  From the moment he’d walked into the house that afternoon, Gramps’s mood had been light and humorous. Grinning, he handed her the platter of thinly sliced marinated and grilled flank steak. It happened to be one of Janine’s favorite meals. “So?” he repeated, smiling at her. “What did you decide?”

  Janine helped herself to a crisp dinner roll, buttering it slowly as her thoughts chased each other in frantic circles. “Nothing.”

  His smile collapsed into a frown. “You promised me you’d consider marrying Zach. I gave you more time than Anna’s father gave her.”

  “You have to know now?”

  “Now!”

  “But, Gramps, a simple yes or no isn’t an appropriate response to something as complex as this. You’re asking me to decide on a lifelong commitment in less than twenty-four hours.” She was stalling for time, and Gramps had probably guessed as much. Frankly, she didn’t know what to tell him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, marry Zach—even if he was willing to marry her—but she hated disappointing her grandfather.

  “What’s so difficult? Either you marry him or not!”

  “I don’t understand why you’ve decided to match me up with Zach Thomas,” she cried. “What’s wrong with Peter?” She’d been dating the other man casually for the last few months. Her heart was too bruised after what had happened with Brian for her to date anyone seriously.

  “You’re in love with that whitewashed weakling?”

  Janine signed loudly, regretting the fact that she’d introduced Peter into their conversation. “He’s very nice.”

  “So is chocolate mousse!” Gramps muttered. “Peter Donahue would make you a terrible husband. I’m shocked you’d even think about marrying him.”

  “I hadn’t actually thought about him in those terms,” she said. Peter was witty and fun, but Gramps was right; they weren’t suited as husband and wife.

  “I thank the good Lord you’ve been given some sense.”

  Janine took a deep breath and finally asked a question that had been nagging at her all afternoon. “Did—did you arrange my father’s marriage?”

  Gramps lowered his eyes, but not before he could disguise the pain there. “No. He fell in love with Patrice while he was in college. I knew the match wasn’t a good one, but Anna reminded me that this was America and young people fell in love by themselves. She convinced me they didn’t need a father’s guiding hand the way we did in the old country.”

  “Do you think he would’ve listened if you’d wanted to arrange a marriage?”

  Her grandfather hesitated, and his hand tightened on his water glass. “I don’t know, but I’d like to believe he would have.”

  “Instead he married my mother.”

  Neither spoke for a long moment. Janine remembered little of her parents, only bits and pieces of memory, mostly unconnected. What she did recall were terrible fights and accusations, a house filled with strife. She could remember hiding under her bed when the shouting started, pressing her hands to her ears. It was her father who used to find her, who comforted her. Always her father. Her memory included almost nothing of her mother. Even pictures didn’t jar her recollection, although Janine had spent hour upon hour looking at photographs, hoping to remember something. But the woman who’d given birth to her had remained a stranger to her in life and in death.

  “You’re the only consolation I have from Steven’s marriage,” Anton said hoarsely. “At least I had you after Steven and Patrice died.”

  “Oh, Gramps. I love you so much and I hate to disappoint you, but I can’t marry Zach and I can’t see him agreeing to marry me.”

  Her grandfather was silent after that, apparently mulling over her words as he finished his dinner. “I suppose I seem like a feeble old man, still trying to live the old ways.”

  “Gramps, no, I don’t think that at all.”

  He planted his elbows squarely on the table and linked his fingers, gazing at her. His brow was puckered in a contemplative frown. “Perhaps it would help if you told me what you want in a husband.”

  She hesitated, then glanced away, avoiding eye contact. Once she’d been so certain of what she wanted. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure. Romance, I suppose.”

  “Romance.” Gramps rolled the word off his tongue as though he was tasting an expensive wine.

  “Yes,” she said with a nod of her head, gaining confidence.

  “And what exactly is romance?”

  “Well…” Now that she’d been called upon to define it, Janine couldn’t quite put that magical feeling into words. “It’s…it�
�s an awareness that comes from the heart.”

  “The heart,” her grandfather repeated, smacking his palm against his chest.

  “Romance is the knowledge that a man would rather die than live his life without me,” she said, warming to the subject.

  “You want him to die?”

  “No, just to be willing.”

  Gramps frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Romance is forbidden trysts on lonely Scottish moors,” she added, thinking of an historical romance she’d read as a teenager.

  “There aren’t any moors in the Seattle area.”

  “Don’t distract me,” she said, smiling, her thoughts gaining momentum. “Romance is desperate passion.”

  He snorted. “That sounds more like hormones to me.”

  “Gramps, please!”

  “How can I understand when all you say is ridiculous things? You want romance. First you claim it’s a feeling in the heart, then you say it’s some kind of passion.”

  “It’s more than that. It’s walking hand in hand along the beach at twilight and gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s speaking of love without ever having to say the words.” She paused, feeling a little foolish at getting so carried away. “I don’t know if I can adequately describe it.”

  “That’s because you haven’t experienced it.”

  “Maybe not,” she agreed reluctantly. “But I will someday.”

  “With Zach,” he said with complete assurance and a wide grin.

  Janine didn’t bother to argue. Gramps was being obstinate and arguing with him was pointless. The only recourse she had was time itself. Soon enough he’d realize that neither she nor Zach was going to fall in with his scheme. Then, and only then, would he drop the subject.

  A week passed and Gramps hadn’t said another word about arranging a marriage between her and Zachary Thomas. It was a cold windy March evening and the rain was coming down in torrents. Janine loved nights like this and was curled up in her favorite chair with a mystery novel when the doorbell chimed. Gramps had gone out for the evening and she wasn’t expecting anyone.

  She turned on the porch light and looked out the peephole to discover Zach standing there, a briefcase in his hand. His shoulders were hunched against the pelting rain.

  “Zach,” she said in surprise, throwing open the door.

  “Hello, Janine,” he said politely, stepping inside. “Is your grandfather here?”

  “No.” She held the book against her chest, her heart pounding hard. “He went out.”

  Zach frowned, clearly confused. “He asked me to stop by. There were some business matters he wanted to discuss. Did he say when he’d be home?”

  “No, but I’m sure if he asked you over, it’ll be soon. Would you care to wait for him?”

  “Please.”

  She took his raincoat, then led him into the library where she’d been reading. A fire was burning, and its warmth hugged the room. The three-story house, situated in Seattle’s Mt. Baker district, was a typical turn-of-the-century home with high ceilings and spacious rooms. The third floor had once housed several servants. Charles was their only live-in help now, and his quarters had always been an apartment over the carriage house. He worked exclusively for Gramps, driving the limousine. Mrs. McCormick arrived early in the mornings and was responsible for housekeeping and meal preparation.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, once he was comfortably seated.

  “Coffee, if you have it.”

  “I made a fresh pot about twenty minutes ago.”

  Janine brought him a cup from the kitchen, then sat across from Zach, wondering what, if anything, she should say about Gramps and his idea of an arranged marriage.

  She doubted that Gramps had broached the subject yet. Otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting there so calmly sipping coffee. He’d be outraged and infuriated, and studying him now, she concluded that he wasn’t even slightly ruffled. It was on the tip of her tongue to warn him about what was coming, but she decided against it. Better that he learn the same way she had.

  Lacing her fingers together, she smiled, feeling awkward and a little gauche. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “You, too. I’ll admit I’m a bit disappointed, though.”

  “You are?”

  “On the drive over, I was trying to guess what you’d be wearing this time. A dress made from bread sacks? A blouse constructed out of men’s socks?”

  She muttered under her breath, annoyed by his teasing. He had the uncanny ability to make her feel fifteen all over again. So much for any possibility that they’d ever be compatible. And Gramps seemed to think he knew them both so well.

  “I’ll admit that an Irish cable-knit sweater and jeans are a pleasant surprise,” he said.

  A flicker of admiration sparked in his dark eyes, something that had been missing the first time they met.

  In that instant, Janine knew.

  She went stock-still, almost dizzy with the realization. Not only had Gramps approached Zach, but they’d apparently reached some sort of agreement. Otherwise Zach would never have been this friendly, this openly appreciative. Nor would he arrive unannounced when Gramps had specifically stated that he’d be gone for the evening.

  They were obviously plotting against her. Well, she had no intention of putting up with it. None. If Zach and Gramps thought they could lure her into marriage, they had a real shock coming.

  Squaring her shoulders, she slid to the edge of her chair. “So you gave in to the pressure,” she said, shooting him a scalding look. Unable to stay seated, she jumped to her feet and started pacing, rubbing her palms together as she cornered her thoughts. “Gramps got to you, didn’t he?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Zach stared up at her, his eyes curious.

  “And you agreed?” She threw up her hands and groaned, “I don’t believe it, I simply don’t believe it. I thought better of you than this.”

  “What don’t you believe?”

  “Of all the men I’ve met over the years, I would’ve sworn you were the type who’d refuse to be bought. I’m disappointed in you, Zach.”

  He remained calm and unperturbed, which infuriated her more than anything he could have said or done.

  “I haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” was all he said.

  “Oh, sure, play the innocent,” she snapped. She was so incensed that she continued to pace. Standing still was impossible.

  In response, Zach merely glanced at his watch and drank his coffee. “Does your grandfather know you suffer from these bouts of hysteria?”

  “Funny, Zach, very funny.”

  He exhaled an exaggerated sigh. “All right, I’ll take the bait. What makes you think I’ve been bought? And what exactly am I getting in exchange?”

  “Technically you’re not getting anything, and I want that understood this very minute, because I refuse to be sold.” Arms akimbo, she turned to glare down at him with the full force of her disdain. “What did he offer you? The entire company? Lots of money?”

  Zach shrugged. “He’s offered me nothing.”

  “Nothing,” she repeated slowly, feeling unreasonably insulted. “He was just going to give me away.” That was enough to deflate the billowing sails of her pride. Stunned, she sat down again. “I thought the bride’s family was supposed to supply some kind of dowry. Gramps didn’t even offer you money?”

  “Dowry?” Zach repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before.

  “Gramps’s family received a cow and ten chickens from my grandmother’s family,” she said, as if that explained everything. “But apparently I’m not even worth a single hen.”

  Zach set his coffee aside and sat straight in his chair. “I think we’d better begin this conversation again. I’m afraid I lost you back there when you said something about cracking under pressure. Perhaps you should enlighten me about what I’m supposed to have done.”

  Janine just glared at him.
r />   “Humor me.”

  “All right, if you insist. It’s obvious that Gramps talked to you about the marriage.”

  “Marriage,” he echoed in a shocked voice. His face went blank. “To whom?”

  “Me, of course.”

  Zach flung himself out of the chair, bolting to his feet. “To you?”

  “Don’t look so horrified! My ego’s taken about all it can for one evening. I’m not exactly the Wicked Witch of the West, you know. Some men would be more than happy to marry me.” Not Brian, and certainly not Peter, but she felt it was important that Zach think she was sought after.

  “Marriage between us is…would be impossible. It’s completely out of the question. I don’t ever plan to marry—I have no use for a wife or family.”

  “Tell that to Gramps.”

  “I have every intention of doing so.” His face tightened and Janine guessed her grandfather was due for an earful when he got home. “What makes that crazy old man think he can order people’s lives like this?” he asked angrily.

  “His own marriage was arranged for him. Trust me, Zach, I argued until I was exhausted, but Gramps hasn’t given up his old-country beliefs and he thinks the two of us—now this is really ridiculous—are perfect for each other.”

  “If you weren’t serious, I’d find this highly amusing.”

  Janine noticed that he seemed rather pale. “I appear to have jumped to the wrong conclusion earlier. I apologize for that but, well, I thought…I assumed Gramps had spoken to you already and you’d agreed.”

  “Was that when you started mumbling about a cow and a few chickens?”

  She nodded and her long bangs fell over her eyes. Absently she pushed them aside. “For a moment there, I thought Gramps was offering me to you gratis. I know it’s silly, but I felt insulted by that.”

  For the first time since they’d entered into this conversation, Zach’s face softened and he granted her a faint smile. “Your grandfather loves you, no question.”

 

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