“You’re nervous.” Behind her, Doug put his hands on her shoulders and massaged her taut muscles. Any other time she would have appreciated it, but right now she had to fight the urge to shake him off.
“A little bit.”
Grinning, he put a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her temple. “You were nervous Friday night, too, and look how that turned out.”
She felt the heat creep up her neck, but secretly she was glad he’d teased her about that night. He’d seemed quiet, preoccupied since they’d first…made love. She’d almost worried that he was disappointed. It was good to hear him imply that things had turned out okay.
But right now her fears about her brother took center stage, and she wouldn’t allow Doug to change the subject. “I just don’t know how Rick is going to take this.”
“You promised they wouldn’t kill me, remember?”
“Would you stop it, Doug!” She hadn’t meant to snap at him and patted his arm in apology. “I’m sorry…but that’s not helping.”
She and Doug had stopped by her brother’s house last weekend after they’d picked out the rings. But no one was home, and she’d decided later it might have been a case of divine intervention. She’d talked about Doug and the kids to her brothers, and a little more to Angie, but she’d never let on how close she and Doug had become. For all they knew, he was just a good friend she’d had a few dates with. After they’d decided to get married so quickly, she’d talked Doug into waiting to tell her brothers until after they were married. Now she regretted the decision.
She reached for the doorbell again, but the door flew open and Angie stood there smiling. “Mickey! Come on in.” She looked past her and gave Doug a polite smile.
“Angie, this is Doug DeVore.”
“Welcome, Doug. We’ve heard so much about you. It’s about time Mickey brought you around so we could meet you. Come on in.”
She led them inside. “Alex and Tony won’t be here until after dinner. They had to change some plans since this isn’t our regular weekend to get together.” She turned and shouted up the stairway. “Rick! Mickey’s here. He’s getting Emmy up from her nap,” she explained.
“Oh, good. I was hoping she’d be awake.” She turned to Doug. “Wait till you see this baby.” Emmy would give them something to talk about. And maybe serve as a buffer.
An infant’s coos floated down to them, and Rick appeared at the top of the stairs with Emmy in his arms.
“Hey, baby sister. There you are. We were starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” He descended the stairs to plant a kiss on her cheek, handing the baby over to her. Like Angie had, he threw a polite nod Doug’s way and stood there waiting for Mickey to introduce them.
She gave Emmy a squeeze and breathed in the heady baby scent. “Rick, Angie, this is Doug.” She took another deep breath and affected an enigmatic smile. “This is…my husband.” She’d intended to wait and tell all her brothers at once, but there the words were.
Her brother and his wife exchanged looks that said “Did I miss something?”
“Doug and I…got married Friday.” Mickey tried to inject a cheer she didn’t feel into her voice. “We’re on our way home from our honeymoon, actually. That’s why we asked if you could change the date.”
“What?” Rick’s gray-frosted eyebrows knit in a frown. “You’re not serious, Michaela.” It was a statement, not a question. And she was in trouble when he called her by her given name. He was taking it about like she’d expected, though.
Doug stepped forward and offered his hand. “It’s true. I’m the lucky man. It’s good to meet you…well, to see you again. You won’t remember me, I’m sure,” he explained, “but I was an admiring fan back when you played basketball at CHS. Saw a couple of Marymount games when you were playing for them, too.”
Mickey could have kissed him right there. If there was any way to worm his way into Rick’s good graces, talking about his old basketball days was a good start.
Rick shook Doug’s hand, and Mickey saw the fury that had been boiling beneath his dark complexion subside a little. Still, he didn’t acknowledge Doug beyond the handshake and turned to Mickey instead. “Is it true? Are you really married?”
“We are, Rick.”
“Um…I don’t recall getting an invitation.” He wasn’t smiling.
“We didn’t want a big wedding, Rick. It was…just the two of us.”
“You didn’t get married in the Church, I take it.”
A terrifying thought occurred to her. Would her brother try to get them to annul the marriage because the ceremony had been performed outside the Church? She hurried to explain. “We were married by a judge, Rick. I told you guys about Doug’s situation.” She turned to include Angie. “We wanted to keep things as simple as possible. We…we love each other, and I love Doug’s children. We feel like this is what God wanted for us.”
A row of ridges furrowed Rick’s brow. “I’m not sure I would presume to know what God wanted.”
Mickey prayed for Doug to jump in and take up their defense, but he stood there, scrubbing at the carpet with the toe of his boot.
Rick’s dark eyes narrowed. “It would have been nice to have been invited. Who walked you down the aisle?” His voice held deep hurt.
Mickey realized then that her brother had always, rightfully, presumed it would be him who would perform that duty.
“There…wasn’t exactly an aisle. We got married in the courthouse. On Friday.” She shifted Emmy to her other hip. “Rick, I’m happy. Can’t you just be happy for me?”
The baby squirmed in her arms, and Mickey clicked her tongue and cooed, trying to keep her content, praying Rick would come around.
Angie put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Rick, please…” She turned to Doug and Mickey. “We are very happy for you, both of you.” Her expression begged them to excuse Rick’s rudeness.
But he shrugged Angie off with a scowl, not acknowledging her congratulations.
“Why don’t we go into the kitchen? Dinner is almost ready. Mickey, you can keep me company while I get things on the table.” Angie left them no choice but to follow her through the great room into the large sunny kitchen.
Rick and Angie’s two youngest boys came up from the basement playroom as they settled around the kitchen table. “Aunt Mickey!”
“Hi, guys. How’s it going?”
Ricky ran to give her a hug, but the six-year-old stopped short when he saw Doug sitting beside her.
“Guys, this is my husband, Doug. He’s your Uncle Doug now.”
“You guys go back downstairs,” Rick barked. “We’ll call you up when lunch is ready.”
The boys flinched as if they were being punished, but they held Doug with curious stares as they slinked backward toward the stairs.
Lunch was an awkward affair with the children misbehaving and the adults tiptoeing around the one thing they were obviously all thinking about. Doug tried to make conversation, but after Rick rebuffed him several times, he finally gave up and concentrated on the huge plate of food Angie had set in front of him.
By the time Tony and Alex showed up, Mickey was ready to throttle her brother. Fortunately, eight kids and a fussy baby created enough distraction that they managed to dodge any discussion of her brothers’ opinions about her marriage.
They ate homemade ice cream in the backyard, but as soon as Doug’s bowl was empty, Mickey made excuses to leave.
“You call me,” Rick said pointedly as they walked to the car. “We’ll talk.” He gave Doug a nod that Mickey knew well enough to interpret as “I have a few things to say to you, too, buddy.”
She could well imagine the conversation that ensued between her brothers and their wives once she and Doug pulled out of the driveway in his pickup.
The drive home—to their first night together in Doug’s house—was spent in silence. She guessed he was trying to imagine the next family dinner at the Valdez zoo, with his five kids added to the mix. Of
course, given the way Rick was handling things, they might not be invited.
She swallowed back tears at the thought. Surely Rick would eventually get used to the idea that she was married. Angie could usually talk some sense into him. But what if she had, by marrying Doug, sacrificed, even for a little while, one of the most precious parts of her life? She couldn’t imagine not going to those family get-togethers with her brothers’ families every month. At the same time she had trouble envisioning Doug and his brood fitting in.
She’d dreamed about the day she’d bring a man home to meet her family—of seeing warm approval in her brothers’ eyes. But that dream had included a long courtship and a fiancé growing to know her family. And it certainly hadn’t included five ready-made children.
She was glad they’d arranged for the kids to stay with Wren again tonight. Even though she missed Doug’s kids, tonight she was in no mood to deal with all the adjustments they faced.
Tomorrow she and Doug would move her things into his house, try to get organized before they went to pick up the kids at Wren’s. Then come Tuesday morning, she would wake up in her new life—in a new place, beside her new husband. She would drive the twins and Harley to daycare. Kayeleigh and Landon would walk over to the daycare after school like always. And come five thirty, she would bring the kids home. She would make supper, help the kids with their homework maybe. Start a load of laundry…or two. It would be the start of a brand-new life—their “new reality,” as Doug had taken to calling it.
God had given her exactly what she’d always dreamed of. So why did she feel so ambivalent? Something wasn’t fitting. Deep inside her. What had only been a faint whisper for the past couple of days grew in intensity. She wasn’t ready.
God had given her the desire of her heart. What she’d begged Him for. And she did want this—all of it. She just hadn’t been prepared to get it all at once.
Right now all she wanted was to go back to her own house—alone. Crawl into her comfy bed in her quiet room and have a good cry.
Darkness came far too quickly, and at ten o’clock Mickey heard Doug turn off the TV and lock the front door. He came up behind her, where she was washing dishes at the sink, and kissed her cheek. “I’m gonna hit the hay. Turn the lights out before you come to bed, would you?”
Without waiting for a reply, he headed back to the bedroom. She heard the water running as he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed.
She wasn’t really sleepy. Most nights it was eleven before she turned out the lights. But it seemed like Doug expected her to come to bed with him, so she finished the dishes, turned out the lights, and went back to the bedroom.
Doug came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed—the side of the bed she usually slept on. He held up a corner of the quilt. “Do you think you’ll need extra blankets? We turn the furnace way down at night.”
Mickey wondered who he meant by “we.” She felt like a guest in his home, only she wasn’t sleeping in the guest room. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
She took her nightgown into the bathroom to change. She hung her clothes on the hook on the back of the door. In spite of the fact that all of Kaye’s clothes were gone from the closet, and her toiletries had been cleaned out of the medicine cabinet, her presence seemed to permeate the room. The house.
Mickey climbed into bed beside Doug. They exchanged nervous smiles, and he patted her hand. She usually read a little before falling asleep, but he turned off the lamp on his nightstand, so she did likewise, tensing when he reached to touch her.
The familiar pangs of longing that he always aroused in her came over her, but she wasn’t sure she could love him that way in this room where Kaye seemed to dwell in every corner, in the very walls. Her touch was in the arrangement of books on the nightstand, in the basket of dusty silk flowers that adorned the dresser. More than that…worse than that, Kaye was in every breath Doug took, in his heart, in his kisses.
She rolled away from him and pulled the quilt up around her chin. Even the quilt held the faint scent of Kaye’s perfume.
Doug didn’t pursue her, but rolled to his own side of the bed.
She lay there, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, lest he reach for her in the darkness.
Finally, her husband’s breathing took on an even cadence, and she let some of the tension seep from her muscles.
Oh, dear God, what have I done? What have we done?
She was a newlywed. She shouldn’t feel sad.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Three fat robins sat on the fence showing off their bright red breasts. Mickey yanked another handful of dry leaves from underneath the rosebushes and stuffed it into the garbage bag. She was a newlywed. She shouldn’t feel sad. But she hated leaving this place behind. More than she’d expected. Not so much the house as her garden spot. For the last five years, she’d poured her heart into this quarter acre of earth. It had been her sanctuary, her creative outlet…the place she came to think and pray. All winter she’d looked forward to spring when the garden she’d created would flourish again. And now she was leaving it behind, right when things were springing to life.
They hadn’t even listed the house with a realtor yet, and already they had a prospect for a renter. Wren Johannsen had told Doug that Meg Ashlock’s sister and her husband were moving to Clayburn and needed a place to live. Even though it didn’t make good financial sense, Mickey liked the rental option much better.
All along she’d talked to Doug about keeping up the garden, coming here after work each night. He’d never argued with her, but by his silence, she could tell he wasn’t too hot on the idea.
But working out here, imagining what it would be like to come here with someone else living in the house, she realized why Doug had been so noncommittal. She saw now that it probably wouldn’t work—not only because she’d have to bring the kids with her, but she wouldn’t have access to the sinks or even the garage, and it would be awkward for everyone. Who wanted their landlord working in their yard almost every evening spring through fall? And that’s what it took to keep the garden looking its best.
Besides, half the pleasure of working in the garden was sitting there for a few minutes every evening enjoying the fruits of her handiwork. If the house were rented, it would be someone else enjoying the beauty of the garden, while she did all the work.
She stuffed another handful of leaves and debris into the bag. Doug thought she was over here packing her things, deciding what furniture and decorative items she wanted to move to his house. Instead, she was out here mourning over the fact that gardens weren’t moveable. She tried to take comfort in Doug’s promise that she could have all the garden space she wanted at his place. “Bring your flowerpots,” he’d said. “You can fill the front porch with flowers.” Somehow it was hard to imagine her elegant pots on the farmhouse porch that was always cluttered with bicycles and skates, and overrun by a trio of dogs and a quartet of cats that, unlike well-mannered Sasha, would be all too happy to eat the tops off her flowers the minute they bloomed, and turn her potting soil into kitty litter. Besides, if they decided to sell her house instead of rent it, the pots would help make her house look appealing.
She heard the phone ringing inside. That would be Doug, wondering if she was ready for him to come and take a load to his place—their place. It was tempting not to answer.
She wasn’t ready. For a desperate moment she was tempted to tell him she’d decided to keep her house. That way she—they—would have a quiet sanctuary to come to when things at his house got too wild.
But that made no financial sense. The daycare paid her barely enough to make her mortgage payment, pay the utility bills, and keep the pantry stocked. Combining her income with Doug’s would allow them to do some work on his house. And boy, did it need some work.
Until she’d slept there last night, showered and dressed in the tiny master bathroom this morning, she hadn’t realized how rundown the place was. She was eager to roll up her sleeves and get things
organized, put her own touches on the house. But first the place needed a good cleaning.
The phone kept ringing. Sighing, she dragged the trash bag behind her, depositing it by the garage before she went inside.
She wiped her hands on her jeans and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, babe. How’s it going?”
“Slow. I…kind of got sidetracked in the garden.”
“Oh. Well, are you ready for me to come over there yet? I don’t want to leave the kids too late at Wren’s.”
She heard the impatience in his voice and felt guilty that she was delaying him. He’d taken another day off of work to help her move some things out of her house. “You can go ahead and come now. I’ve got a few things ready to go. I can get the rest some other night this week—or next weekend.”
“I don’t want to make twenty trips. If you’re not ready, just say so.” Now it sounded as if he were speaking through a clenched jaw.
“I’m ready.” It was an effort to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. “It won’t take long to load stuff up.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes then.”
She hung up and looked around her tidy little house, mentally making a list of things she wanted to take to Doug’s. She hurried back to the bedroom and opened the dresser drawers, and threw some clothes into a suitcase.
Sasha sauntered into the room with a plaintive meow. She obviously sensed something unusual was going on—or she was unhappy with being left over the weekend. Mickey ran a hand over Sasha’s silky calico coat and cooed reassurance. The cat arched her back to match Mickey’s strokes.
“It’ll be okay, kitty. We’re going on an adventure.” She zipped up her bags and put them on the floor. At Doug’s house last night, she’d unpacked her bags from their “honeymoon,” so her makeup and toiletries were already there.
When she started dumping the contents of the vanity drawers into a box, Sasha slithered underneath the bed skirt. Mickey worried about how her cat would adjust to life in a new home. At least all the DeVore animals were of the outdoor variety.
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