by Susan Wiggs
“Hey,” he whispered, “it’s okay now. It’s okay.”
“Yes,” she said, and then, “No. You shattered my heart, Julian Gastineaux. I still hurt from that, do you understand? I’ll never get over the feeling of losing you. Never.”
“You will,” he assured her, dropping to her side, pressing her against the length of him. “I swear, we both will.”
“Promise me,” she said. “Promise you’ll never put me through that again.”
He kissed her tears away. “What are the chances of something like that happening again? I promise.”
Thirty-Four
Julian stared at the letter in his hands. There it was, in stark black and white—his acceptance into pilot training. The culmination of a dream that had been born at the top of a fig tree in New Orleans, in the heart of the kid who’d discovered that danger felt like love.
Pilot training. Upon returning from Colombia, he had rededicated himself to the dream. Finally, the powers that be had accepted him into pilot training. He’d be spending fifty-four weeks pursuing his dreams at last, preparing to fly high-altitude supersonic aircraft that would take him closer to heaven than most people went while still alive.
The one thing that wasn’t perfect about the offer was geography. Vance AFB was in Oklahoma. He had nothing against Oklahoma, but once again, his career aspirations were leading him away from Daisy, and at the worst possible time. She was fresh out of a failed marriage. She was in no shape to take on another relationship and make another commitment, particularly one that would take her thousands of miles away from her family. He had no right to ask that of her.
In a perfect world, he would have time to properly court her, to find his way back into her heart by being close, whiling away the hours simply holding her, talking, making love…. Such simple things should not be so out of reach, but his world was not perfect. It never had been. There were challenges to face. Obligations to be met.
Dreams to be fulfilled.
This wasn’t simply a case of bad timing, though. He realized that. When he’d first asked her to marry him, the danger of his job had been theoretical. Sure, they’d done the military’s drill of writing the letters and filling out the forms. He barely remembered signing off on his benefits, because the possibility had seemed so remote. It was merely another form he’d filled out.
But then his capture and the report of his death had shown Daisy exactly what she was signing up for.
Could he ask her to take that risk again?
Daisy scrolled through a few missed calls on her mobile phone while driving home from a meeting with her clients, Andrea and Brian Hubble, to show them their new-baby portrait shots. Their second child. It was hard to believe nearly a year had passed when the session with their firstborn had been interrupted by the stunning news that Julian was alive. Since then, her life had taken twists and turns she never could have imagined.
She hoped they hadn’t noticed her distracted state during the meeting, but there was a lot on her mind. She hadn’t planned to sleep with Julian the night he’d come over for dinner. Dreamed of it, maybe. But she definitely hadn’t planned on it. It defied all common sense to plunge into something with Julian, yet at the same time, it felt exactly right. It did. In the midst of recent events, she had forgotten what it felt like to follow her heart.
She stopped scrolling and pulled over to the side of the road when she came to a 212 area code. It wasn’t Sonnet, but… Her heart sped up as she listened to the message. “It’s Mr. Jamieson from the Emerging Artists program at the Museum of Modern Art. I wanted to let you know your work has been selected to appear in this year’s exhibit…”
Finally, she thought. Finally. After trying for years, she had made the cut at last. Turning off the phone, she set it aside and stared out the car window at Willow Lake. From the shoulder of the road, she had a view of the lake and the town of Avalon, but the panorama blurred with unexpected tears. Finally, she thought again.
It was a sign. It had to be. Julian was the one who had pushed her to keep at it; he of all people understood what this meant to her. She grabbed the phone to call him, then changed her mind. This was huge. She wanted to tell him in person.
Driving through town en route to Connor’s house, she sang along with the radio—an ancient song by Cream, “I Feel Free.”
Every street and building of Avalon was familiar to her—the shops and restaurants, Logan’s agency and the radio station, the library. It was a place where nothing seemed to change. Except… As she waited at a light, she spotted Logan coming out of the agency. He looked good, better than he had in ages. He was in fine shape, striding with athletic grace toward a woman who had parked in front of his place.
Daisy couldn’t help staring as he put his arm around the woman. Daphne McDaniel, thought Daisy with a jolt of surprise. Logan was with Daphne McDaniel. So this was new. Also startling. Daphne was so very different from Logan, a girl who favored body art and hair colors not found in nature, ripped tights and Doc Martens shoes. As a couple, they looked odd. But oddly compatible as they held hands and strolled together down the sidewalk.
Daisy tried to figure out how she felt, seeing them together. Logan was moving on. He was seeing someone. It seemed…appropriate, somehow.
The car behind her tapped its horn to point out that the light had changed. She rolled forward, glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Logan hug Daphne next to him as they walked, laughing together. Daisy couldn’t remember ever walking with him like that, entwined and lost in each other.
Turning onto the lakeshore road, she shifted her thoughts to Julian. She couldn’t wait to tell him her news.
He came out of the house as she parked in the drive and got out of her car. Good heavenly lord, he was a beautiful man, she thought with a flood of remembered pleasure.
“I have news,” she said, running up to the porch and flinging her arms around him. The remembered pleasure intensified. “My work’s going to be on exhibit at MoMA.”
He picked her up and swung her around while she laughed for joy. Then he set her down with a kiss. “Of course it is. Your work is genius. It’s about time they noticed. Really proud of you, Daze.”
“You’re the first one I’ve told. Julian, I was this close to throwing in the towel, probably would have if you hadn’t pushed me.”
“Yeah?” He pulled her close again.
“Yeah,” she said against his mouth, before she kissed him. And just like that, any awkwardness they might have felt about their impulsive night together melted away. “I’ll have to think of some ways to thank you.” With that, she lifted herself and wrapped her legs around his waist, and he held her as if she weighed nothing. Craning her neck, she peered through the open door of the house. “Are you here alone?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her.
“Then maybe—” She broke off, peeling herself away from him. “Julian, what’s all this?” But she knew, even before he explained. His duffel bag sat inside the open door. On the hall table were several thick envelopes from the Department of the Air Force. All the elation drained out of her, replaced by the chill of reality.
“My orders came.”
A ball of ice formed in her stomach. “I see.”
“There was hardly any notice. That’s the military for you.”
“Where?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice from breaking.
“Vance Air Force Base. It’s in Enid, Oklahoma.”
She lowered herself to the porch swing. Oklahoma. Okla-frigging-homa.
He sat down next to her, let out a huge sigh. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”
“Then…” Don’t go. She wouldn’t let herself say it. This was his dream, his duty, his life. He had to go. Still, she couldn’t shake the notion that their lifestyles were never going to mesh. “We’re not going to make it,” she whispered, fighting tears. “Are we?”
He cupped her cheek in his hand, skimmed his thumb across her lips. “That’s up to us
.”
She pulled back, unable to bear his touch, and folded her arms across her middle. “When you first proposed to me, I didn’t know the monster lurking around the corner. Now I do. You said you’d come back to me and you didn’t. I’ll never forget that day, Julian. Ever. I still can’t go into the bridal shop where I heard the news. Forgive me if I’m resistant to having my heart destroyed again.”
“We were both destroyed by what happened. I’ve spent the past year processing that,” he reminded her. “We came through it. We survived the worst, losing each other, finding each other again. We can do this. I know we can. Please… Christ just love me enough to say you’ll try.”
Love me enough. Could she? Did she? “Why does it have to be so hard? Why can’t anything be simple for us?”
“Because we never settle. That’s not who we are. Look at you. Your work’s going to be on display at the Museum of Modern Art. That didn’t just happen, Daisy. You made it happen because you dared to go for it. And me, I’m…I have to do this. I’m asking you to respect that. It’s my dream, but it won’t happen unless we make it happen together.”
“Why does that sound like an ultimatum to me?”
“It’s not. It’s me saying I love you. It’s me asking you to take a leap of faith. Again, Daisy.”
She put her hand in his. “I want us to be together.” It was the most honest thing she could think of to say.
“I want that, too. But listen, if I’ve figured out anything through all of this, it’s that you deserve to know what you’re signing up for, wanting to be with me. It’s not just a career, but who I am. I thought I showed you that, but maybe I never did,” Julian said. “Not my forte, sorry.”
“I know who you are. I’ve always known.”
He took her hand in his, lifted it to his mouth.
“Why do we keep screwing this up? Why can’t we get it together?” she asked, taking her hand back.
“We’re both in different places. What you went through when you thought I’d been killed—it’s a hazard of this career, and I don’t feel right asking you to take that risk again.”
She turned to him. The breeze off the lake lifted her hair, bringing with it the scent of autumn. “Julian, I’m telling you now—ask me.”
“What?”
“You heard what I said. Ask me.”
A smile glinted in his eyes. He slipped his arms around her and drew her close, dropped his lips to her forehead and inhaled deeply. “I’m asking. Marry me, Daisy Bellamy.”
Epilogue
The bridegroom was so handsome, Daisy Bellamy’s heart nearly melted at the sight of him. Please, she thought. Oh, please let’s get it right this time.
He offered her a brief, nervous smile. He was a storybook prince in his dress uniform, every hair in place, adoration beaming from every pore. He stared intently into her eyes and, in a voice that broke with sincerity, said, “I love you.”
In that moment, she felt a wave of certainty—they were going to get it right this time. The autumn wedding took place in Avalon, on the grounds of Camp Kioga, where Charles and Jane Bellamy had been married more than half a century before. Daisy’s family wouldn’t have it any other way. The day was clear and bright, with a comforting breeze sweeping gently across Willow Lake, creating swirls of color with the fallen leaves.
This time around, there would be no impulsive ceremony in the wrong city, in the wrong dress, to the wrong guy. This time around, she was the bride she’d always dreamed of being, in the sparkling ball gown she’d chosen so long ago and the flowing gossamer veil Julian had bought for her. She was no longer that naive, hopeful girl, and Julian was no longer the idealistic young officer. Life had thrown them struggles beyond imagining, yet one thing had never changed—the deep, unwavering love she’d felt for him since their first summer together at Willow Lake. Now, at the conclusion of the emotional ceremony, she felt the echo of his whispered words, and her heart was so full of love she thought it might burst.
Their kiss-the-bride moment elicited audible sighs from the surrounding female attendants—Sonnet, Olivia, Dare and Ivy. When Daisy and Julian turned in triumph to their friends and family, a shower of white petals fluttered over them like confetti.
Through a haze of happiness, she saw her mother put her hand to her heart and her father blow her a kiss. Charlie beamed at them, her beautiful son, and then he laughed with joy, waving excitedly as they started down the aisle. He would be a boy with two dads and two homes now, and challenges of his own to face, but all of them—Daisy, Julian, Logan—were committed to being the best parents they could to this precious child. She, Charlie and Julian were Oklahoma-bound, and after that was anyone’s guess. But she would always come back to Avalon and Willow Lake, so much a part of the person she’d become. Life was taking her elsewhere now, and her heart’s home belonged in the strong and steady hands of her husband.
Holding fast together, the two of them ducked beneath the ceremonial arch of swords held aloft by uniformed air force saber bearers, coming through on the other side, bursting toward the future.
Acknowledgments
I owe a very special thank you to the real Andrea and Brian Hubble, and to Kay Fritchman and her furry family for their generous contributions.
When it comes to some books, the author is in need of a literary “pit crew” to keep everything in proper working order right up until the final lap. This book’s pit crew included (but wasn’t limited to) my friends and fellow writers—Anjali Banerjee, Kate Breslin, Sheila Roberts and Elsa Watson; Margaret O’Neill Marbury and Adam Wilson of MIRA Books; Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey of the Jane Rotrosen Agency.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8426-9
MARRYING DAISY BELLAMY
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Wiggs.
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