Speak Now

by Chautona Havig

  “If you think stress is going to get me out of this, you’ve got another thing coming.” She watched him skillfully navigate the airport and glide into the traffic on I-85. “How far is it to your house?”

  “About an hour in this traffic—a little less at other times of the day.”

  “Why didn’t you bring Riley and Bryson?”

  He heard the fatigue in her voice and ignored the question. “Put your seat back a bit and rest. They’re going to attack the minute they get home, so you need all the rest you can get.”

  He saw her iPod in her purse between them and grabbed it. Plugging it into his USB port, the sounds of Celtic Woman flooded his car. Without opening her eyes, she reached for his hand. “You’re good to me, Jonathan.”

  How he wanted to keep it. He felt like David Langston of The Harvester, eager to hold and enjoy the touch of his beloved’s hand, but unlike the hero of the Limberlost, he didn’t have the kind of self-restraint necessary to trust himself with her. He squeezed her hand and then gripped the wheel, flipping on his blinker to change lanes as an excuse.

  “You don’t have to do that, you know,” Cara murmured, nearly asleep already. “I understand. Believe me, I understand.”

  “It still seems rude…”

  “Six more weeks…”

  ~*~*~*~

  Her eyes flew open as Jonathan’s hand shook her shoulders. “We’re here.”

  Darkness seemed to envelop her. Wherever here was, she couldn’t see. “Where—”

  “The garage. It’s not the optimal way to see the house, but hey.”

  “Take me down the driveway so I can see it?”

  “I thought you were trying to ‘save face,’” he protested.

  “Funny. Come on, humor me.”

  So, leading her back down his circular drive, he told her to close her eyes until he reached what he insisted was the best angle of the house. “Okay, Cara, open them now.”

  “It looks like a huge farmhouse! I had no idea it was so large!” Seeing the garage to the left of the house, she pointed. “Is that where Verna lives?”

  “Yep. She has a nice sized apartment up there.”

  Staring at the three-car monstrosity before her, Cara muttered, “It’s probably the size of my entire house.”

  “Probably,” he agreed, unaware that she didn’t want to hear that answer.

  Opening the front door, he encouraged her to look around. “I’ll go get your bags.”

  Without Jonathan observing every movement, Cara glanced around the foyer and took a steadying breath. It was one thing to know he’d grown up with wealth, had a wife from one of Rockland’s most premiere families, and had a good salary himself. Those nebulous thoughts didn’t mean much to her when she was with him. She’d seen his childhood home, and yes, it was enormous, but it wasn’t him so it hadn’t affected her. This, on the other hand, this signified what he’d expect when he bought a house in Rockland. That thought sent another shockwave through her body. They had nowhere but her townhome to live in until they found a house. She’d have to find out what kind of price range to look for. Awkward.

  A large, curved staircase seemed to make a statement all by itself. This is the home of someone accustomed to the best. For a fleeting second, she wondered how she fit into that picture, and then shrugged off the ridiculous idea. Jonathan seemed to have impeccable taste. If that was true of his employees, his design aesthetic, and his first wife, it was true of her, and nothing, not even demons of insecurities past would shake her faith in him.

  “Well, you got far,” his voice teased as he carried bags into the house, shutting the door firmly behind him. She started to remind him of rollers, and then looked at the perfectly polished floors. She’d never roll a suitcase across those floors after dragging it over the asphalt at the airport.

  “I was admiring the staircase. It’s just the kind of thing I could see Riley walking down in her wedding gown. How will you ever bring yourself to leave this house?”

  “Well, it is what I’ve been working toward. This house is just an investment in the future.”

  “But all your memories—”

  His voice choked, making her feel like a heel. “Cara, some memories hurt as much as they soothe. I’m ready for a new house. The time to pack up the memories of here can’t come quickly enough. I’ll feel better when I can place them where I can enjoy them when I want, but not have them assault me everywhere I go.”

  “You weren’t over Lily’s death at the wedding, were you?”

  He shook his head and then turned to his right. “Come with me. I’ll get you settled in your room and then give you a tour of the house. The kids’ll be here in less than an hour.”

  “I can’t believe you asked me out when you were still hurting.”

  He led her past a living room that no reasonable person would allow a child in and an office that looked both as formal and casual, as Jonathan himself. “Can I see?”

  “Sure, let’s just get these in your room before I drop them first.”

  Her room forced her to choke back laughter. He’d tried to do some redecorating to make her feel more at home. A vintage chenille coverlet had been spread across a panel bed and a quilt lay folded at the foot. Half a dozen pillows hid most of the headboard and looked painfully out of place. Fresh roses decorated the end tables and vanity, and in the bathroom, she saw a bowl of peonies reflected in the enormous mirror. Someone had draped a rope of silk roses over the mirror in an attempt to soften the clear simple lines. The result—hideous.

  “Verna tried, but as much as it’s not me, your house is much more attractive than this.”

  “You didn’t have to—”

  “Bryson insisted. He thought you’d feel lost without your flowers. You’ll notice there is a clock on every surface. If you wonder why the mantel is missing its clock, now you know.”

  She ran her hands over the spread, trying to divorce it from the setting, and smiled. “I love this coverlet.”

  “I think it looks ridiculous but—”

  “Oh, it does, but it is pretty if you don’t look at the rest of the room.”

  “Well, you’ll be able to figure something out. We’re going to have to find a nice compromise there, you know. I’ll choke in a house full of stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t decorate your own home to your liking.” Jonathan glanced around the room with disgust. “At least you won’t do this to it.”

  She followed him from the room and into his office. In there, the furniture worked perfectly. On his desk, next to a banker’s lamp, three little frames caught her attention. “You framed them!” Her fingertip traced the curve of the oval and she smiled. “I still love that profile of you.”

  “I love what it represents.”

  “And what is that?” She walked to a pair of French doors and peeked through the taut sheers that covered the panes. The immense back yard beckoned, and the pool practically demanded she walk straight to it and jump in.

  “The first time since Lily that my eyes followed another woman.”

  Unsure how to respond, she glanced over the books on the shelves, ran her hands across the leather of the couches, and shook her head. “This room is so you.”

  “And it’s about as opposite what you’d have for your craft things as it can be. Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you. I’m curious if you’ll know it when you see it or not.”

  “And if I don’t, will you tell me?”

  “I don’t think so. I think I’ll wait to see if you figure it out or if the kids tell you— whichever comes first.” He escorted her from the room, past the living and dining rooms and into the kitchen. “Verna’s domain. I avoid it when she’s in the house out of sheer preservation.”

  “Will she stay on even after—”

  “Oh, definitely. I don’t think we could get rid of her even if we moved to the moon and took up farming.” He winked at her. “She’d want to make sure we did it right. Come see the rest of the downs
tairs.”

  He showed her a family room off the kitchen, a mudroom, and then the largest, brightest basement she’d ever seen. After walking through a media room, exercise room, mini kitchen, another guest room, and toy haven, she frowned. “I take it back; this basement alone is bigger than two of my houses.”

  “Not quite, but it probably feels like it. It’s a very large feeling space. Let’s go upstairs.”

  He led her up the semi-spiraled staircase and into what was obviously Bryson’s room. “A Braves fan, hmm. How could you let that happen?”

  “I tried. It’s better than the Orioles he started out with.”

  “Orioles? Seriously?” Cara’s jaw seemed unable to stay in its designed place.

  “I think he liked how the word sounded when he said it.”

  Riley’s bedroom had been decorated as a little girl’s paradise. Unlike the neutral tones in the rest of the house, her white painted furniture and pale ballet pink walls showed evidence of a professional touch. Cara ran her hands over the fluffiest comforter she’d ever seen. A ballet theme tried to present itself even without a single tutu or slipper in sight. She turned to Jonathan, eyebrows raised.

  “It doesn’t really fit the rest of the house, but the designer insisted it’s what a little girl needs.”

  That made more sense. “Designer?”

  “I didn’t know how to decorate a little girl’s room, and Verna was talking lady bugs and butterflies!”

  Laughing at Jonathan’s distaste, she followed him from the children’s rooms, across the upstairs sitting area, and into a smaller bedroom used as a workout room. The only apparatus she recognized was the treadmill, but even to her inexperienced eye, the equipment had seen a lot of use. Next to it, double doors led into a master suite. Cara almost expected him to fling both doors open in the theatrical way seen in old movies, but instead, he opened one door and led her inside.

  “My retreat.”

  Immediately, she saw that he’d never shared this room with Lily—not as it looked now. Nowhere in the room could she find even the smallest hint of femininity, aside from one picture of Lily on a table in the sitting area. He watched her reaction to seeing it closely, and she knew it. “I’m so glad you didn’t put her picture away.”

  “I almost did.”

  “I know, and that’s why I said it. I mean it, too. She’s a part of your life, and your children need every help to remember her. Riley only knows other people’s memories. She needs a face to connect them with.” She thought for a minute. “Actually, I haven’t seen any other pictures of Lily anywhere.”

  “Bryson keeps one in his desk drawer. It’s on his desk half the time and the other half it’s not.”

  “Do you think he puts it away when he thinks it bothers you?” Cara had no doubt that she’d hit the crux of the issue and refused to skirt it.

  “Possibly. I never thought about it. I just thought he needed the freedom to make the decision himself.”

  “Does he ever come look at this one?”

  “Often.” Understanding caused Jonathan to nod. “And I think it’s when he has put his away. I never connected them.”

  “I think he needs someone to tell him it’s good to have the picture out.”

  “I’ll find—”

  “Mind if I do it? I think maybe my visit might just be the right time…” A glance in his mirror made her want to cry. She looked horrible. Her face screamed for a scrub and refresh. “I’ve got to do something about my face. I feel icky.”

  “I thought you might feel up to a swim. It’ll help cool you off and then maybe the kids won’t take you on an instant repeat tour.”

  “You’re on.”

  “Meet you down at the pool.” Jonathan glanced around the room. “And yeah, we’ll have to do something about this. Your room is too much for me; my room is too much—well, spartan—for you…”

  “We’ll figure it out. Most of this house isn’t ‘me,’ per se, but it is nice. It works with the house.” She shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. “But do I work with the house,” she whispered to herself as she skipped downstairs.

  Her hair hung limply around her shoulders, her makeup splotched in unfortunate places, and as she pulled out her swimsuit, her confidence plummeted further. Determined not to be ridiculous, she scrubbed her face and studied the result. “Major improvement.” As she slipped on her new swimsuit, she frowned. “Now that, not so much.” The mirror showed curves where she wanted none, and as she tugged the top over the bottoms, she sighed. “At least being short-waisted means that tankinis don’t show off the stomach.” She tried to imagine her stomach rounder and with stretch marks and groaned. “Lord, can we make an agreement now? He takes out his contacts before we go to bed? Just between You and me, Lord. I don’t think it’s much to ask…”

  With one last glance at a bottom that filled out her suit much more than she liked, Cara threw her wrap on, slipped her feet into flip-flops, and paused at the door. Should she bring a towel? Even as she thought it, Cara shook her head and opened the door. This wasn’t the kind of house that used bathroom towels for the pool. This was the kind of house that had a special cupboard nearby just for that purpose. “Lord, I’m so out of my element…” As she ran her finger over the door handle, she smiled. “But I can totally get used to this element.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  With eyes closed, Cara listened to the soft splash of the water as Jonathan swam laps. It had a soothing, rhythmic sound that, had she not been so excited, would have lulled her to sleep. A wave of water washed over her chin, sending her eyelids upward. “How many laps do you swim a day?”

  “Well, if I’m doing a workout, fifty. If I’m just piddling, who knows?”

  “Fifty?” The squeak in her voice embarrassed her.

  “Come on, swim with me. You’ll see; it’s not as impressive as it sounds.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she muttered, wading to end of the pool.

  “I’ll keep pace with you. Let’s go.”

  She felt ridiculous. Without the speed to keep her afloat, her backside sank too low for her legs to be much help. Her arms carried her across the pool, where she grabbed the edge, panting. “You—” she gasped between breaths, “are evil.”

  “Nah, I’d be winded if I tried to pull myself through the water like that. Let’s swim back and I’ll show you how to fix it.”

  To her relief, squealing children danced near the shallow end. Riley, complete with water wings and goggles, waited for Jonathan to catch her as she jumped. Once assured that his sister was fine, Bryson scurried to the deep end, dove, barely missing a belly flop, and swam to her side. Riley dog paddled to her and threw air-fluffed arms around her. “You’re going to be my mommy! Did you know that?”

  “I think she knows. She had to say yes, remember?” Bryson’s initial taunting changed to an almost exact imitation of Jonathan’s patient, instructive tone.

  Cara had to cover her mouth to hide her amusement. Wrapping arms around both children, Cara drew them to the corner steps where she laughed, hugged, and disappeared into their lives, leaving Jonathan looking a little forgotten. “Isn’t the Lord wonderful? He knew that I needed a little girl and a little boy exactly like you guys, and look! He brought me to you. I am so blessed.”

  “Daddy too,” Bryson added as he watched his father observing them. “Daddy needed you. He’s not sad all the time anymore. Mommy likes that.”

  “How,” Jonathan choked out, “do you figure that, son?”

  “The letter. It says that she prays that the Lord will bring us a wonderful woman who will love us more than we ever dreamed possible.”

  “It sounds like someone memorized a wonderful letter,” Cara interjected as she tried to soothe the ragged look on Jonathan’s face.

  Her mother had warned her that it would be a rough transition for him. Love wasn’t enough to erase the feelings of betrayal to his first wife. Jonathan had been deeply in love with his wife when she died. A mere t
hree months ago, he was still broken from his loss. It would take more than overwhelming attraction and new love to heal those wounds.

  In an attempt to change the subject, Cara splashed Jonathan. “You’re it.”

  His eyebrow rose in question, but Riley caught on quickly. “You splash someone now.”

  Jonathan sent a wide arc of water toward Bryson who dove just as it would have hit. The game kicked into high gear. They ducked, dodged, dove, and suffered utter defeat. To the Lymans’ surprise, Cara was a whiz at avoiding the splashes. She ignored the impending green-hair-syndrome, and managed to avoid being it more than a handful of times. At last, Jonathan caught her as she swam up behind him and then dove underwater himself. Blinded by chlorine water in her eyes, she made a swift splash in front of her and then cringed at an unfamiliar voice.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you too.”

  Rubbing her eyes, Cara tried to focus. “Verna, I presume?”

  “Mmm hmm. Welcome to our home.”

  “Um, sorry about that. I saw a blur and—”

  “Don’t give it no mind. A little water never melted anyone but a snowman, and we don’t get those here.” To Jonathan, she added, “Dinner will be ready in an hour and a half. Oh, and that second piece that you ordered for her room that they said was out of stock?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was delivered an hour ago.” Verna turned to Cara. “That man never takes no for an answer. If you say it can’t be done, he’ll kill hisself to prove you wrong.”

  “It’s here! Let’s go, Riley!” Bryson nearly dragged his little sister through the water and up the steps. “Come on, Cara—Miss Cara—Mo—” His face contorted in confusion. “We have to get out of here. You need to see your present—s!”

  As she crawled from the pool, Cara couldn’t help but feel like a bedraggled cat, crawling in from the rain. One look at the eager children tossed those thoughts out of her mind. Riley and Bryson cared only that she invest in them. Jonathan seemed blinded to her lackluster appearance, and the secret smile hovering around Verna’s dark eyes told Cara that she’d passed some unspoken test of approval.