by Avery James
"Long day?" she asked.
"Hm," Jack mumbled as he turned to face her. "I didn't see you there. Nothing outside the ordinary. It's just so good to be alone again and let my guard down for a few minutes without worrying about my mother criticizing me or my sister trying to get money from me. It's really wonderful. How was dress shopping?"
Charlotte smiled. "It was interesting."
"Go on." Jack ran a hand through his hair.
"Promise you won't tell anyone about it?" "Who would I tell?" Jack shook his head and sat up, rubbing his hands over his eyes while his mind ran wild imagining how his family had managed to insult Charlotte. "What did my mother do? If this has to do with the dress, I'm really sorry. I didn't know she was going to do that. She thinks she's showing how happy she is to have you in the family. She told me about lunch too. Tell your mother that I'll make it up to her somehow."
"It was more the dressmaker," Charlotte said.
"Veronique?" Jack asked. "She called this afternoon, looking to confirm a few things with you. She was very blunt. I like that."
"She was blunt alright," Charlotte said. "She asked me how long I had been pregnant."
Jack froze. He felt like his heart had stopped and someone had caved his chest in with one hard punch. The hair on his arms stood on end.
She couldn't be pregnant. He couldn't be a father. For every doubt he had held about marriage, he had been sure about fatherhood. He wasn't fit to be a father. No Coburn had ever been. It was part of his genetic makeup. Coburn men were terrible fathers. They went after money and women and power without any regard for what it meant for their families.
Beyond that, he worked long hours and travelled all the time. He'd never be around. He couldn't do that to a kid. Deep down, Jack thought that was a big part of the reason his brother had never married and his sister had never gotten a marriage to stick. It was a major reason why he had sought out Charlotte in place of someone who would expect a family from him.
After all the troubles Jack had gone through to take care of Maria and little Jack, everything was happening all over again. It was exhausting enough to take care of one Coburn love child, let alone to keep little Jack a secret from everyone in his own family, not to mention Charlotte.
Charlotte. God, Charlotte. How could he be so self-centered right now? She was probably a mess. He'd promised her a quick marriage, and now… this. She had been reluctant to even marry him, and now she was going to have his kid? He wanted to reach out and place his hand on her shoulder and tell her that everything would be ok and that he'd take care of her and the baby in whatever way he could.
Calm down, Jack, he told himself. Breathe.
"Are you?" he asked.
"No," Charlotte said.
Relief crashed through Jack's body. "Oh thank God," he said.
"Wow," Charlotte said, "don't act so excited. I just thought it was… I don't know, funny I guess."
"I'm sorry if my reaction wasn't what you expected," Jack said. "How are you feeling about it?"
"Strange. I don't know. I guess I just had never considered what it would mean to be a parent too seriously before Veronique thought I was, you know?"
"I've thought about it too often. I just can't be a father. I'd be horrible."
Charlotte walked over to Jack and sat down on the coffee table, brushing her hand against his face. She kissed him quickly, letting the tip of her tongue gently tease his lips. They were soft and sweet as ever.
Charlotte's hand rested on Jack's jacket as she leaned onto him, pressing the weight of his secret phone into his chest.
Jack froze when she felt it, but she didn't seem to know or care what shape she was feeling under the fabric.
"I'm sure you'll be a wonderful father someday," Charlotte said.
I wish I could tell you how wrong you are, he thought.
Chapter 22
Charlotte looked out the window of her bridal suite at the unbroken snow that blanketed the grounds and the woods that rose up behind them. If she didn't know she was twenty minutes from home, she would have believed she was a world away. The late afternoon light caught and shimmered off the surface of the fresh snow. Hers was to be a white wedding.
The Aldrich Mansion was a brick for brick recreation of an English manor, located out on Foxhall Road, where the congestion of the nation's capital gave way to rolling countryside that stretched west across Virginia clear through to the Appalachian Mountains. That scale suited the mansion, with its sprawling wings, high ceilings and steep-pitched slate roof.
Charlotte turned her attention back to the mirror, although she had a hard time convincing herself that it really was her own reflection she was seeing. Veronique hadn't lied. The dress was magnificent. Every last stitch fit her perfectly. The elaborate beading accentuated her figure and gave her a stately air. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, and a birdcage veil covered half her face. She looked like royalty.
This is just a costume, and you're just playing a role, Charlotte told herself.
Through the floorboards, she could heart the faint sound of the string quartet playing in the library. By now, everyone had arrived. They'd be taking their seats at any moment. Soon enough, someone would come and knock on the door to tell her it was time.
"Charlotte Coburn," she said as she looked in the mirror. The name was starting to sound more natural to her. She hoped that it would fit her the same way Veronique had tailored the dress to perfectly hug her body, but she worried that the opposite was true. She worried that she was changing herself to fit the role of Mrs. Coburn. Either way, everyone was counting on her.
The knock came a few minutes later: three light taps.
"Come in," Charlotte said. She nearly jumped when she realized it was Jack standing in the doorway.
Jack pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was already in his tux, and he had a small present tucked under his arm, wrapped in silver. The way he looked her up and down, Charlotte could have almost believed he was actually in love with her, instead of with the woman in the costume she was wearing.
"Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?" Charlotte asked.
"Not when he comes bearing gifts," Jack said. He held the package out for her.
"Who's this one from? I feel so bad accepting all these gifts. I haven't even met half the people who sent them. We should have suggested a donation instead. Put it with the rest, I guess."
"It's from me."
Charlotte's heart sank. "I thought we agreed not to get each other gifts. I didn't get you anything."
"I know. It's nothing really. Don't think of it as a wedding gift. Think of it as a thank you."
"For marrying you?"
"A thank you for reminding me what matters." Jack placed the gift down on the powder table. "I'll let you open it on your own, and I'll go entertain the guests. You look beautiful, by the way. I don't think I tell you that enough."
"Stop or you'll make me blush," Charlotte said.
"Just remember that someday you'll have this for real. You deserve something real." Without another word, Jack ducked back into the hall, leaving Charlotte alone with the gift.
We have something real, she wanted to shout at him.
Instead, she stared down at the neatly wrapped box. She didn't want to open it. She didn't want to look at it. He had said no gifts, and then he had gone and gotten one for her. He was impossible, sometimes. She didn't know whether to be angry, annoyed or flattered.
Charlotte reached forward and lifted the present off of the desk. It was heavier than she had expected. There was a card taped to the top. She pulled it off and started reading.
Charlotte, may this help you, as you have helped me, keep an eye on the horizon and see the beauty in life, both near and far. —Jack
Now she had to know what was inside. She slipped a finger under the wrapping paper and slowly ripped it open, pulling it off of the box to find a pair of binoculars just like the ones Jack had handed her tha
t morning at his family's house on the Cape.
What does he mean by this? Charlotte wondered. Why this, why now? Why didn't he stay and watch me open it?
She tried to bring herself through every possible scenario, but none of them seemed to answer her questions. It seemed ironic that he'd give her this gift when he couldn't see what was right before him. She wanted to believe he felt the way she did. Maybe this was his way of saying it, but she needed a sign more sure than a cryptic gift.
There was another knock on the door.
"Another gift?" Charlotte called.
The door opened slowly, and Charlotte pointed the binoculars toward the opening.
"Oh," she mumbled, putting down the binoculars, "hi, Mom."
"Hello, Mrs. Coburn," Ellen said as she stepped into the room. She paused for a moment and looked at Charlotte, like she wanted to commit the scene to memory before it was gone. "I wanted to be the first to call you that. I do have a small gift for you, but I can hold onto it if—"
"No, I thought you were Jack. He gave me these as a kind of… I guess I don't know." Charlotte shoved the binoculars back into their case. She tried to get used to the fact that her own mother had called her Mrs. Coburn. She slipped the binoculars back out and looked at them. "I don't know what this is supposed to mean," she finally said.
"Looks too expensive to not mean something," her mother said. "I know this has all happened so fast and that you're ready to go, but your father I wanted to give you a small reminder of how much we love you. He's downstairs tying and retying his tie as he tries to calm his nerves."
Charlotte couldn't help but laugh. "Is he alright?"
"He's never been better," Ellen said. She pulled a pendant out of her pocket, a small sapphire set in gold. "This belonged to your grandmother. You don't have to wear it for the ceremony, but I thought it would make a good something blue."
Charlotte smiled and took to the pendant. She felt the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
"You're going to make me cry," she said. "I love you, Mom. Will you help me put it on?"
"Of course," Ellen said, smiling.
"It's beautiful," Charlotte said.
"Your groom awaits," her mother replied. "I'm very proud of you, Ms. Crowley. I wanted to tell you that one more time."
***
As she descended the staircase, Charlotte felt like she was walking into a dream. Her father was already misty-eyed and fighting back tears, waiting at the base of the stairs while Ellen escorted Charlotte down, arm in arm. A string quartet played outside the entrance to the library around the corner. All Charlotte had to do was walk through those doors, say a few words, and within half an hour she would be married to Jack Coburn in the mansion's library.
The room had been the reason Jack suggested the mansion in the first place. With an aisle down the middle, it could only fit a few dozen chairs. Then there were the books, old, leather-bound tomes collected from across the world; they were beautiful, but the real star of the room was the two story window whose leaded panes stretched from floor to ceiling, giving a dramatic view of the grounds beyond.
As Charlotte entered the room, she saw Jack waiting. Her heart raced as she tried one more time to remind herself that this wasn't real. Even so, deep down, she couldn't help but feel that maybe she and Jack were right for each other. Charlotte's mother and her father, one on either side, were sniffling and trying not to cry as they brought her down the aisle.
Charlotte looked over the small group of friends and family who had assembled. Her aunts, uncles, two of her cousins and their toddlers sat behind Callie's sister, Amy and her husband. Logan's dad Hank sat with Callie's Aunt Vi, who was waving to Charlotte. Members of Jack's family who Charlotte had never met lined the other side. Jack's mother sat in the front row, next to Whit and his date.
Everyone was looking at her, and an unexpected weakness swept through Charlotte's body. By the time she reached the end of the aisle, her hands were trembling. She hugged her parents and took her place across from Jack.
The ceremony was elegant and tasteful, but that didn't stop Charlotte from being a bundle of nerves. The whole time, she wondered whether or not there was some truth to that smile of Jack's and the look in his eye as he held her hand when the minister began to speak. Charlotte didn't hear a word of it. She barely realized when Jack started talking.
"Charlotte," he said, "when I met you, I don't think I believed in love. I didn't believe in its redemptive power or its sheer beauty, but in the short time I've known you, I've realized how wrong I was. Every day I spend with you makes me better.
"I don't think I've earned the right to be your husband. I don't think that's possible. Not yet, anyway. I'll have to earn it, every day from this day forward, in the morning, when all we want to do is stay in bed, and at night, when I'm stuck at work and trying to figure out a way to get home to you, I will do everything I can to earn your love."
Charlotte squeezed Jack's hand as he spoke, and she looked him in the eye.
"I love you," she said.
She felt like a weight had lifted itself off of her chest. She hadn't been able to truly admit it to herself until hearing it out loud.
"I love you more than I knew possible. You're the best man I've ever known, and — first impressions aside — I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you. When you first asked me out, I thought you were joking. What could a guy like you see in a girl like me? But the truth is you've seen more in me than I ever dreamed possible, and every day with you is a new adventure. Whether I'm getting lost inside our house again or forgetting the name of every ambassador at a dinner party, I know you'll be there for me. And when you need someone to talk to, when you need someone to hold, someone to share your life with, I'm there for you too. I've been told over the years that I had an unrealistic idea of what love could be, that I had inflated it to some unattainable ideal. I can see now that my only fault was not dreaming big enough. I love you."
She stared at Jack and whispered under her breath once more.
"I love you."
Jack squeezed her hands gently, looking deep into her eyes.
The minister began the final part of the ceremony. Again, all his words were a blur, and Charlotte felt like she was alone in the room with Jack. She watched Jack's lips as he repeated the vows.
"I do," he said.
Then, after a pause, she realized it was her turn.
"Do you, Charlotte, take Jack to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" the minister asked.Charlotte took a deep breath.
"I do."
Chapter 23
Charlotte closed her eyes and listened to the dull hum of the outboard motor. Sunlight soaked every inch of her body, and she felt like she was floating on air. Jack nudged her shoulder.
"Hey, we're almost there," he said.
Up in the distance, Charlotte saw a small island. She could just barely make out the gentle curve of the white sand beach, but the shape of the island was clear. Low and sandy on one end, it rose up to a peak on the other. At first, Charlotte had assumed that it was a relatively small hill, but the closer they got to the island, the larger it seemed. By the time they reached the island's long wooden dock, the hill towered before them, an impressive set of cliffs lording over the teal water that surrounded them.
"I know you had your heart set on curling up with a cup of tea and reading in some corner for the next week, so I figured why not let that corner be somewhere where we could relax and just enjoy the day without anyone to bother us? We'll have a daily delivery of whatever we want, but other than that, there won't be another soul for miles. There are several beaches and hiking trails around the island, and there's a boat available if we want to do any exploring."
Charlotte glanced at Jack, his eyes behind mirrored sunglasses and the neck of his shirt open enough to show off a triangle of
already slightly suntanned skin. The kind of exploring Charlotte wanted to do required no boat.
She stepped onto the dock and looked up to the villa built into the hillside. At first glance, she counted at least three small rooflines. She grabbed for her suitcase, but Jack shook his head.
"Don't even think about lifting a finger while we're here. I'll bring them all up later." Jack slung a leather overnight bag over his shoulder. "I'll take this one though. Come on, let me show you around."
He took Charlotte's hand and led her to a narrow path that cut back and forth up the hill to the house. The hillside was thick with vegetation. As they ascended, Charlotte had trouble believing this place was real.
Her first impression of the house only affirmed her disbelief. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. It wrapped around a courtyard with an infinity pool that looked out over the water. Almost every room had a view of the pool and the ocean beyond through wide open floor-to-ceiling windows. The reflections of the pool made the ceilings and walls of the house seem alive with sunlight. The whole space was so bright and open that Charlotte wasn't even sure if she should call it a house. Her first instinct, calling it a villa, seemed more accurate.
"This is all ours?" She asked.
Jack led her from room to room, until he reached the bedroom. On the far end of the room, beyond the large canopy bed, windows looked out over an unbroken expanse of ocean. French doors opened on the other side to a small patio overlooking the pool. The cathedral ceiling soared above the room, making Charlotte feel like she was in a work of art instead of a bedroom.
"For the next week, the only souls on this island will be you, me and the stray songbirds who have found their way here. Does that work for you?" Jack asked.
"You mean no elaborate dinners, no gala openings, no one to impress? I guess I can live with that." Charlotte jumped up and wrapped her legs around Jack, kissing him hard on the mouth. He took half a step backward before regaining his balance, and she smiled at him as he held her up. "It's wonderful. A week without having to pretend to be anything."
