Prescription: Marry Her Immediately

by Jacqueline Diamond

  “Who said anything about a mock wedding?” Quent pressed one hand to his chest as if she’d wounded him. “I would never pull something like that.”

  “Oh? What about our mock engagement?” she asked.

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  “An engagement is in the mind of the beholder,” Quent said. “A marriage is a matter of legal record.”

  “That’s a twisted way of thinking. In any case, I hope you’re joking.” After removing the coat, Amy handed it back.

  He hung it away. “Not at all. Seriously, we ought to get married.”

  She’d dreamed about Quent proposing to her, but not under these circumstances. He didn’t love her, he simply wanted a marriage of convenience. Amy’s lungs squeezed so tight they hurt.

  When she spoke, she forced herself to keep her tone light. “How romantic. Usually when men propose to me, they get down on their knees and beg.”

  He frowned. “How many men have asked you to marry them?”

  “I lost count.” Amy hadn’t expected him to take her remark at face value. “Oh, come on, you can’t mean it. We’re not even dating!”

  “Think about it. It makes perfect sense.” He glanced around the office. “Wait. There’s nowhere comfortable to sit in here while we talk.”

  “We could go in the kitchen.” On second thought, that wasn’t such a good idea. He might decide to pelt her with rice to see if he liked that effect.

  “The dining room,” he said. “My parents always had their serious discussions over the big table.”

  “Then let’s do it.” Amy certainly didn’t want to stay here, where the only places to sit were a desk chair and his bed.

  At the dining table, they took chairs at right angles, around a corner from each other. Quent had such a businesslike air that, for one wild moment, Amy half-expected him to whip out a notebook and begin listing reasons why getting married was a sensible idea. If he did, she was going to slap him.

  “Before we start,” she said, “are you talking about a temporary marriage? Because I’d never agree to that.” She stopped, unwilling to admit aloud what a mockery it would make of her dreams.

  Quent folded his strong hands on the table. A thin white scar stood out where, he’d explained once, he’d cut himself with a scalpel while in medical school.

  “It’s such a new idea, I haven’t thought it through,” he conceded. “I wasn’t figuring we’d run out afterwards and get a divorce, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Although Amy knew that many marriages broke up, including that of her parents, she could never be cynical about a sacred union. Especially not her own. “You still make it sound awfully casual. For me, marriage is forever.”

  Once she claimed Quent in bed, or he claimed her, or they lost control and ravished each other, she could never go back to being friends. There was a level of intimacy that, once achieved, had to be honored and cherished.

  “Forever? That’s a tall order.” Quent regarded her through a rebellious lock of blond hair that had fallen across his forehead. “There are no guarantees. Still, we have so much in common, the odds would be on our side.”

  “You have a bizarre attitude,” Amy said. “One minute you’re fooling around draping a coat over my head. The next thing I know, you’re dissecting our chances of living happily ever after as if marriage were some kind of lab experiment.”

  “I don’t have a grand theory of matrimony. I admit it.” Half in jest, he added, “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  “People who get married are supposed to fall in love.” Amy gestured helplessly with her hands. “They don’t plan it, they get carried away by their feelings.”

  “That might happen to us someday, but we can’t afford to wait,” Quent said. “If we do, we’ll lose the kids.”

  “I know, but…”

  He pressed on. “The way I see it, most of my friends who’ve gotten married did it more or less the way you described, yielding to their impulses instead of their intellects. Sometimes things worked and sometimes they didn’t.”

  “That’s the risk you have to take,” Amy said.

  “I’m more analytical than that.” This was the doctor side of him speaking, she could see; not her usual fun-loving companion but the man who’d patiently advised a roomful of teenagers about child development. “What we have are solid underpinnings, and I don’t think we need to wait and hope our emotions will knock us off our feet before January.”

  Amy gathered her patience. “Like what solid underpinnings?”

  “First of all, you’re a natural mom.” His expression warmed. “You’ve really taken to the kids and they adore you. We could make a happy home for them.”

  Birthday parties and balloons. Summer outings to the beach. The first day of school, soccer and scouts, senior proms. Amy ached to share all of those with Greg and Tara. And, most of all, with Quent.

  “I know we’re buddies,” he went on, “but isn’t that the key? We’re attracted to each other. At least, I’m definitely attracted to you, and I think it’s mutual, although I may not be as suave as some of the studs you’ve dated.”

  She nearly burst out laughing, turning it into a cough at the last minute. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “We have a good time and we can talk to each other.” Quent seemed to be trying to persuade himself more than her. “Amy, I’ve been happier this past week than I’ve ever been. I know I’m younger than you, but I’m turning thirty next month. I’m sure I can live up to your standards.”

  He looked so earnest and sweet, Amy couldn’t resist him. She yearned to be his wife more than anything in the world, and she’d always believed in her father’s advice to go after what she wanted. Maybe this whole business would blow up in her face, but she had to take the chance, for Quent, for the children and for herself.

  “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

  It took a few blinks for him to absorb her response. “Yes? You’ll marry me?” He let out a whoop.

  “The kids!” Amy protested.

  “Sorry.” He calmed down. “I forgot they were sleeping.”

  They paused to listen, but no one called from the bedroom. “Solid sleepers,” Amy said.

  “Lucky for us. Now let’s seal our bargain, shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, Quent pulled her toward him across the edge of the table. Their mouths met for a brief, tantalizing kiss.

  In another minute, Amy knew she’d be tugging him down the hall to her bedroom, as she’d dreamed of doing all week. There were too many plans to make. Besides, since she’d waited this long, she might as well be a virgin when she walked down the aisle.

  Okay, she admitted silently, maybe she was a little apprehensive, too. What was Quent going to say when he found out she’d invented all that worldly experience? She had no idea. Apparently, she was going to find out—on her wedding night.

  “We haven’t finished talking,” she said, pulling back.

  Reluctantly, he released her. “I’m listening.”

  “Since Lucy already thinks we’re engaged, I doubt she’ll change her mind about taking the kids simply because we announce we’re getting married.”

  “That’s right. We need to set a date.” Quent glanced at his watch, the digital kind with a built-in calendar. “She’s leaving right after the first of the year. How about the weekend before New Year’s?”

  “I want to make sure the children can spend Christmas with us,” Amy said. “What if Lucy insists on taking them until we prove we’re going through with it?”

  “Agreed.” Quent gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I guess we should say our vows right away. What are you doing on Saturday?”

  Saturday? That was so soon! “We were going to spend the day buying a tree,” Amy blurted, then shook her head at her own reaction. “I didn’t mean to raise objections. But it’s so sudden.”

  “I’m afraid the calendar isn’t very forgiving,” said the man who, unl
ess she’d hallucinated this entire conversation, had just promised to become her husband.

  “Okay.” Amy decided to go with the flow and let her psyche handle the repercussions in due course. “I used to think I wanted to elope, but after Natalie’s wedding, I changed my mind.”

  “We won’t have time to arrange anything big.” Quent touched her hand, sending a soft glow through Amy. “That doesn’t mean we can’t do something special. Tell me what you want.”

  “A romantic setting. Lots of friends,” she said. “Aunt Mary always knows what to do.” She started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “We won’t have to worry about hiring an organist!” she said. “Mrs. McLanahan’s been humming a wedding march since you moved in with me. All we have to do is invite her, and she’ll provide the music.”

  “Let’s hire a pianist and let Noreen entertain at the reception,” he said, deadpan.

  “She’ll be so excited, she’ll probably dance, too.” Amy toyed with her French braid, which was coming apart. “A wedding! On Saturday! There are so many details to work out, I don’t know where to start.”

  From his pocket, Quent pulled his personal organizer. “How about the guest list?”

  “It’s as good a place as any.”

  ACT NOW, deal with the consequences later. The motto was standing him in good stead, Quent reflected the next day as he dialed Lucy’s work number during his lunch break.

  He was glad he’d asked Amy to marry him, and even more pleased that she’d said yes. Surely they could find a way to make this work, to keep it light, to give each other space and avoid whatever imaginary abyss kept giving him the willies.

  Everything would be fine as long as Lucy agreed they could keep the children. He didn’t want to wait until the end of the day to talk to her. This was too important.

  In the privacy of his book-lined office, Quent listened to the phone ringing at the other end of the line. When Lucy answered, he said, “Dr. Quentin Ladd and Dr. Amy Ravenna request the honor of your presence at their wedding on Saturday.”

  “You mean it?” she asked.

  “I do,” he said. “I mean, we do. Or rather, we both plan to say ‘I do.”’

  “Wow!” Relief filled Lucy’s voice. “That’s wonderful news.”

  “The children can stay with us, then?” He didn’t take it for granted, because he knew what a strong bond had formed between her and their mutual niece and nephew.

  Lucy let out a long breath. “Part of me wants to keep them. I love those little guys. If things were different, I’d never let them go. But as matters stand, that wouldn’t be fair to anybody.”

  “You’ll always be welcome to visit whenever you want,” Quent said.

  “Believe me, I’ll take you up on that.” Excitedly, Lucy went on. “A wedding! I hope I’m not spoiling your plans by rushing you this way.”

  “The important thing is that the children will have a permanent home,” he said.

  “If you’ll hire a lawyer, we can start the adoption proceedings. I guess there’ll be some kind of home study like I had, but I’m sure it will be fine,” she said. “Congratulations, Quent. I always knew you’d make a great father when you grew up. The question was, how long would that take?”

  “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have bet on it happening soon,” he said. “I’ve changed since I came to Serene Beach.”

  “Amy changed you,” Lucy said.

  “You’re right about that.”

  After they hung up, he sat staring into space. Marriage. The dark shadowy sense of danger was still there, still cautioning him about how disastrously wrong things could go.

  So what? he thought. He and Amy weren’t their parents. They were two intelligent, loving people. Most of all, they were pals.

  There was no reason why they couldn’t live happily ever after more as friends and lovers than as a conventional husband and wife. They’d already made a good start at it.

  And he had no doubt the best was yet to come.

  STANDING AT THE GLASS counter in the jewelry store, Amy hesitated to try on the ring. The swirl of diamonds captured the fantasy she’d treasured since girlhood so perfectly that she was afraid it wouldn’t fit, and that, if it didn’t, it couldn’t be sized in time for the wedding.

  Mostly, she was afraid this moment wasn’t really happening.

  “Want me to slip it on you?” Without waiting for an answer, Quent took her hand and lifted the ring.

  Amy’s breath caught. His blond head as he gazed downward made her feel like Cinderella waiting for the prince to try on the glass slipper. Even though she knew it was her glass slipper, there was always the possibility that the magic couldn’t be trusted.

  “It’s a new design. We just started carrying the line,” said the elderly jeweler, Hugo Oldham, a friend of Mrs. McLanahan’s who owned several shops. “I discovered the designer last month.”

  “Just in time.” Cupping her palm in his, Quent slid the ring along Amy’s finger. It stopped at her knuckle, stirring a breath of disappointment before he twitched it free. “See? It’s exactly right.”

  Depths glinted in the diamonds and in Quent’s eyes as he watched her reaction. He kept her hand in his with subtle possessiveness, his skin ruddy against Amy’s olive hue.

  “It was made for us,” she said.

  “Never let her go,” Hugo told Quent.

  “I don’t intend to.”

  It was at that moment that Amy began to trust that maybe, just maybe, the magic might be real.

  IN THE MIRROR of her old room at Aunt Mary’s house, she studied herself. She’d chosen an ivory cocktail dress that flattered her dark hair and eyes. The silky way it swished around her legs felt sexy.

  “You look gorgeous.” Heather tucked an errant flower into the wreath atop Amy’s head.

  “I’m glad you agreed to be my maid of honor on such short notice.” Her friend’s presence steadied her. Aunt Mary was busy watching the children, and Natalie, although honored, had declined to be a bridesmaid due to her pregnancy.

  “I’m a practical woman. I like getting to use my dress twice.” Heather smoothed down the turquoise outfit she’d worn at Natalie’s ceremony only two weeks earlier.

  Amy appreciated the acceptance and the discretion of her two best friends since she’d made her surprise announcement. At work, the grapevine had gone crazy with speculation. The consensus, she’d heard, was that, as a friend, she was generously helping Quent with his niece and nephew.

  Some people admired her. Others thought she’d taken leave of her senses. Mercifully, neither Natalie nor Heather had breathed a word of what must be obvious to them, that Amy was head over heels in love, even if Quent wasn’t.

  Thank goodness Heather, aware that Amy hadn’t had any reason to use contraception in the past, had helped her arrange for it now. There was a lot to be said for having a doctor as one of her best friends!

  The week had passed in a whirl. Aunt Mary, overjoyed that Amy had found the right man to marry, had gamely organized her friends to decorate the house and cook for the reception.

  On such short notice, they’d invited only about thirty intimates, including, of course, Noreen. Almost everyone had been happy to come. Amy’s father and one of her brothers had driven down from Fresno, while Lucy had arrived with Quent’s father from San Diego.

  Amy snapped out of her reflections as Kitty came in wearing the aqua bridesmaid dress she’d borrowed from Amy. It fit better than expected, although Aunt Mary had had to tack up the hem.

  Her aunt deserved a medal. Amy made a mental note to throw a big thank-you party to celebrate Mary’s fiftieth birthday next fall.

  Behind Kitty strode Loretta, who’d volunteered to record the event on film. As the P.R. director at Doctors Circle, she knew how to take professional-quality photographs.

  After a few obligatory shots of the bride with her attendants, Loretta shuttered her camera. “Good luck,” she said. “I don’t know anyone
who deserves happiness more than you, Amy.”

  “Thank you.” Amy reached out and squeezed the other woman’s free hand.

  “I’m glad these children are going to have a great mom,” Loretta said. “I’m amazed how quickly you’ve bonded with them.”

  “It surprises me, too,” she said.

  “Speaking of the kids, we’d better go downstairs.” Kitty paced to and fro in excitement. “Tara’s starting to squirm and Lucy says she won’t be able to keep her quiet forever.”

  “Let’s do it!” Amy shooed her band of friends ahead of her out of the room. “One wedding, coming up.”

  When she saw her father waiting in the upstairs hall, Amy’s heart began to hammer in her chest. This was really happening. In a few minutes, she was going to marry Quent.

  For better or for worse.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the high-ceilinged living room, butterfly-shaped balloons danced on their tethers above masses of ruffly paper flowers. To the guests in their folding chairs, it must seem as if they were sitting in a garden, Quent thought.

  “You haven’t lost the ring yet, have you?” he teased Greg. The little boy, garbed in a new suit, shook his head solemnly.

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Gary Lee, Quent’s best man and a close friend from medical school, stood with one hand resting lightly on the ring bearer’s shoulder. “He’s a very responsible young fellow, so I’m sure we don’t have to worry.”

  A glow of satisfaction spread through Quent as he glanced from the fresh-faced child to Tara, a yellow bow askew in her hair as she played with a simple puzzle in the front row beside Lucy. He’d already found a lawyer and begun the home study. Soon he and Amy would be their parents in every sense of the word.

  To his right, the minister indicated to the pianist to segue from love songs into a march. Both the pastor and the woman at the piano had come from Aunt Mary’s church, kindly rearranging their plans to accommodate the last-minute affair.

  When the tempo altered, Kitty appeared on the staircase with a single white rose in her hand. She strolled down at a measured pace, looking thrilled and a bit shy. Quent had to remind himself that this blushing teenager was about to become his cousin. Marrying meant acquiring a whole new family!