Match Made in Court

by Janice Kay Johnson

  She would let Matt put a ring on her finger today, and she would glory in wearing it.

  “Okay,” she agreed simply, then said, “I can hardly wait to tell Hanna.”

  “We’ll do that today, too.” His voice held that same note of satisfaction. He finally let go of her hand and started spreading mayonnaise on a slice of bread. “This is a good time of year to buy a house, too. What say we start looking this weekend? Think about where you want to live. Do you intend to keep your job? I have plenty of money put away, you know. And the new job pays well. If you’d like to stay home, or try something else…”

  He was going so fast. Too fast. But the possibilities were also alluring, part of this day that had made her Matt’s lover and now his fiancée, that gave her a right to dream with him.

  “I’d like to go to grad school,” she said. “I can get my master’s in library science. I’d love to manage my own branch library. Or maybe be a children’s librarian.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll do,” he said, with a matter-of-fact nod, as if she could accomplish anything in the world.

  If she hadn’t already been in love, she would have fallen right then and there.

  We’re getting married, she thought giddily and didn’t taste a bite of her lunch.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LINNEA LOVED HER ENGAGEMENT ring, but it weighed heavy on her hand when she walked into her parents’ house. Matt hadn’t liked it when she asked him to wait in the car. He wanted to stand at her side when she told Mom and Dad she’d agreed to marry him, but she knew—just knew—how Mom would react, and he had reluctantly conceded.

  Her dad and Hanna were in the dining room, both concentrating fiercely on a board game. The rattle of dice was followed by Hanna’s giggle and the murmur of Dad’s voice. They hadn’t heard her come in, so she followed the whir of the sewing machine down the hall. Linnea stopped in the doorway of what had been Finn’s bedroom, converted to a sewing and hobby room. “Mom.”

  Her mother gave her a rare smile, which made what Linnea had to say worse. “Isn’t this pretty fabric? Hanna and I went shopping today and she picked this out. I’m going to make a pinafore to go over the dress….” As if the diamond on Linnea’s hand had flashed light, her eyes went to it, then rose slowly to meet her daughter’s.

  “Matt asked me to marry him, and I agreed.”

  Her mother seemed stunned. “Matt Laughlin.”

  “Yes.” In the frozen silence, Linnea counted her heartbeats. “Will you congratulate me, Mom?”

  Her mother’s voice gained a razor’s edge. “You know how Finn feels about him.”

  “Neither of them like each other, but that doesn’t have anything to do with—”

  “It’s bad enough that you let Hanna see him, but now this? You’ll marry a man who despises your family and wants nothing from you but to hurt us?”

  That stung, because Linnea did know Matt wanted, first and foremost, to have his niece to raise. But he liked her, Linnea, and wanted her, too, and she wouldn’t listen to this. She wouldn’t.

  “You don’t know him at all,” she said quietly. When her mother’s mouth opened, she said, “No. I’m taking Hanna now. I would have liked it if you’d thought about my happiness, but I knew that wouldn’t happen.”

  And she turned and walked down the hall.

  “Linnea, you come right back here and listen to some sense.”

  Sense? she thought. More like vitriol.

  In the dining room she kissed her father’s cheek quickly and said, “Hanna, get your coat. Matt’s waiting in the car.”

  Her niece exchanged a high five with her grandfather and raced for the coat closet. Linnea held out her hand for his father to see and whispered, “I’m going to marry Matt, Dad. Mom’s mad. But shh. I haven’t told Hanna yet.”

  Worry lines deepened on his face. “Are you sure this is right for you?” he asked.

  There was either a great big hole in her chest or a rock that weighed two tons, she wasn’t sure which. “I think so.” Eyes stinging, she kissed him again, then took Hanna’s hand and led her out to the car.

  Matt was leaning against the fender, his gaze sharp on her even as he lifted Hanna for a hug and kiss.

  He opened the door for Hanna, then closed it as she buckled in. “Didn’t go so well?” he asked Linnea, in a quick voice.

  She managed a smile for him. “No, but I didn’t expect it to.”

  “Your mother is a—” He stopped himself, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Linnea looked at him. “A what?”

  “A fool,” he said with quick anger, before clamping his mouth shut again and circling the car to his side.

  Once they were all in, he said, “Have you told Hannah?”

  “Not without you.”

  “Why don’t we go get an ice cream sundae?” he suggested.

  “Yay!” Hanna declared from the backseat.

  They had settled at a table in Dairy Queen with three sundaes when Linnea said, “Hanna, we have news for you.” He reached out and took her hand. “Your uncle Matt asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  The explosion of joy on the child’s face made up for all the hurt Linnea’s mother had dealt.

  “You’ll live with us and everything?” she asked Matt, hope shimmering in her blue eyes. “Forever and ever?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded shaken. He reached out and gripped Linnea’s hand, then hugged Hanna with his other arm. “Forever and ever.”

  He meant that. Linnea knew he did. If ever a man believed in commitment, Matt Laughlin did. When Tess and Finn had first started dating, she’d told Linnea about her parents dying when she was still in high school, and how her brother, although only twenty years old, had overcome all opposition and brought her to live with him, in a rental house close to the university campus.

  “I don’t think he had a beer or even dated until I graduated from high school,” she had said with a soft laugh. “He was so determined to stand in for Mom and Dad, and that meant setting a good example. He gave the evil eye to every guy that dared to ask me out. Scared most of them off.” She had sat silent for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes. “Matt came to every one of my basketball games, and he taught me to drive, and he helped me with college applications. He gave up a lot for me. He’s a pretty amazing guy.”

  Linnea had tried to imagine Finn doing any of that for her and failed. He was sometimes carelessly kind to her, she’d thought then, or amused by her. He always assumed she’d give way so he could have what he wanted, whether it was the television when they were young or the family car after he wrecked his and Mom and Dad actually held firm for a memorable four months and refused to buy him another one. No, if their parents had tragically died when she was sixteen, he’d have told her going into a foster home was the best thing for her.

  Looking at Matt and Hanna right now, love swelled in Linnea until she could hardly breath. When he said, “Forever and ever,” it was a promise not only to Hanna but to Linnea.

  I want that forever like I’ve never wanted anything else, she thought and pushed away the fear and disbelief.

  HANNA HAD BROUGHT HER portable CD player and was singing along with the music from Anastasia. Matt was driving, of course, following the real estate agent’s car. They’d already looked at half a dozen houses, and Linnea’s head throbbed.

  “Why don’t you put in your application to the university and see what happens?” Matt said.

  She didn’t want to talk about this right now. “The deadline was months ago.”

  He shrugged, as if that meant nothing. “They must get dropouts. If they put you on the waiting list, you’d have a good shot at starting grad school this fall instead of waiting another year. With your experience at the library, you’re a top-notch candidate for them.”

  Linnea had never in her life envisioned herself as top-notch. She’d had good grades in college, but not a four-point-oh. And, yes, she’d worked for the Seattle Public Library for six ye
ars now, but only as a clerk, so that hardly counted. She thought—believed—that she would be accepted to the graduate program in librarianship if she applied in the normal way, but she wasn’t anyone so special she could demand extraordinary treatment, not the way Matt thought she should. The way Finn undoubtedly would have done. He would have been sure deadlines were for other people, not him.

  Matt was so much more forceful than she was that Linnea could understand the impatience she occasionally saw on his face. He was used to being decisive, cutting his losses when he had to, arguing bluntly for what he believed, ignoring opinions with which he disagreed.

  They’d only been engaged two weeks, and already Linnea felt some days as if she was being swept along in a torrent. She didn’t know why he was in such a hurry to buy a house, but when she suggested timidly that they wait until summer, he didn’t even seem to hear her.

  She had no idea what he’d told the agent they were looking for, but so far none of the houses she’d showed them were anything Linnea could imagine ever finding homey. What on earth had he said they wanted?

  “Ah,” he said with satisfaction, and she realized he was pulling to the curb in front of house number six—or was it seven?—and that he liked the looks of this one. “We’re here,” he said over his shoulder to Hanna, who shut off the music, thank heavens, craned her neck and scrambled to take off her seat belt.

  Getting out herself, Linnea gazed at the beautiful Northwest-style home with shingled siding, a multi-pitched roof and a broad porch surrounded by beautifully designed gardens. “It’s awfully big,” she murmured doubtfully.

  Matt barely gave her a glance. “Compared to your place, everything is.” He joined the agent, an attractive woman who painted her nails and lips crimson and who had mostly ignored Linnea today.

  Linnea had gotten so she really disliked people who looked right through her.

  The agent talked about the home’s features as they walked to the front door. Hanna pressed her face to the front window to peer in, then twirled on the porch while the agent fumbled for a minute with the keybox and unlocked the door.

  Inside, the flooring was cherry with a rich, warm gleam. The four of them stepped into the enormous living room, designed for entertaining. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall; the other was almost entirely glass, looking out over the roofs of other houses to Puget Sound and Vashon Island. They’d be able to watch the ferry make the crossing, the cargo ships and stately cruise ships arriving and departing. Linnea walked over to gaze out, Matt beside her.

  “I could enjoy this view,” he said.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she agreed, then turned to face the room itself. “But, oh, gosh.”

  “Oh, gosh?” His tone was tinged with impatience. “I suppose you like having a living room I can cross in two strides, if I’m lucky enough not to trip over the coffee table?”

  Her house was tiny. But there had to be something in between, didn’t there? Linnea couldn’t in a million years imagine herself curled in an armchair in this room reading a good book. It would be like lounging in a particularly elegant bus station that was bizarrely empty but for her.

  From somewhere out of sight, Hanna begged, “Can I go upstairs and look at the bedrooms?”

  By the time they followed her, she’d picked one out that was painted pink and had a wallpaper border with white, winged horses soaring over rosy pink clouds.

  “This one’s mine!” she cried giddily. She needed lunch and a nap, in Linnea’s opinion. Her spinning had taken on a wild quality.

  “Honey, I don’t know if this house—”

  “What’s wrong with the house?” Matt frowned at Linnea.

  “I—Nothing.” Why couldn’t she just say “I don’t like it?” Instead, she heard herself placating. What else could she call it? “It’s gorgeous,” she admitted. “You know it is. I just can’t imagine what we’d do with all this space.”

  “But did you see the playroom up here?” His big hand drew her down the hall, past open doors that led into four more bedrooms and three bathrooms.

  There was at least one downstairs, too. Why would any one family need four bathrooms? she wondered semi-hysterically. Or are there five?

  The playroom was carpeted in tan berber and had white painted built-in cabinets and shelves for toys and games. It, too, was beautiful. Perfect.

  I don’t belong here, Linnea thought helplessly.

  Matt urged her to look at the master bedroom and the enormous bathroom with a whirlpool tub and separate shower that they would share if they bought this house. Enthusiasm hummed through him, and her anxiety climbed.

  “Let’s take another look downstairs,” he said. Silently she followed him. Oh, Lord, she saw, there were two bathrooms down here; five total. Not to mention a media room and a study and a guest suite.

  “I’m overwhelmed,” she told him honestly, when the agent was out of earshot. “I can’t imagine taking care of a house this size—”

  “You don’t have to.” He smiled at her, his eyes warm. “We’ll get a housecleaning service. You’re going to be too busy with classes.”

  “That’s a long time away—”

  “With work, then.” He flicked away her protest. “And look at Hanna. She loves the house.”

  Their niece was bumping down the stairs on her butt, singing out of tune, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Can we go outside? I want a swing set.” Having reached the bottom of the flight, she ran to Linnea and grabbed her hand. “Can I have a swing set?”

  “I’m sure, whatever house we buy—”

  Matt gave them both a big grin. “Let’s go outside and figure out where we can put that swing set.”

  Linnea let them haul her along, even though her emotions roiled.

  She had to say something. Now. Or Matt would be making an offer on the house before she knew it.

  Stunned, she thought, He didn’t even ask if I liked it. He was irritated when I even hinted at a reservation.

  He’d be mad if she said, “No. This isn’t the right house.” Or even, “No, let me get used to being engaged. I’m not ready to buy a house, too.”

  Her stomach cramped. She didn’t do well when people were mad. She’d stood up to Matt the once, because she’d had to for Hanna. But this time…She didn’t even have a good reason, except that they didn’t need a house this big. Need? She would hate living in one this big, just as she’d hated Finn and Tess’s house. But it wasn’t only that. She couldn’t tell Matt why she wasn’t ready to move at all, why she had this horrible, unsettling sense of having lost all control the minute she’d said, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  So she looked at the back porch, the yard, the magnificent view, and told herself they would be talking later, when she’d had time to think through all these uncomfortable feelings so that she could make Matt understand.

  “WHERE’S GRANDDAD?” Hanna asked, after hugging her grandmother, who had turned from the kitchen sink with arms opened wide.

  “He’s out in the backyard, pruning roses. I told him it’s too early in the year, but you know him. He never listens. It’s barely February. We’re bound to get a hard freeze that will damage the roses.” Linnea’s mother shook her head. “Your grandfather,” she told Hanna, “has let himself be seduced by sunshine.”

  Linnea laughed. Hanna’s longing gaze was fixed on the French doors leading to the patio. She might not understand the word seduced, but she, too, wanted to be out in the sunshine.

  “Can I go help?” she asked.

  “I feel sure,” her grandmother said indulgently, “that he would love to have help.”

  Hanna flashed her a grin and hurried to let herself outside.

  Linnea’s mother turned a far cooler look on her. “Will you stay for lunch today?”

  Linnea braced herself and said as pleasantly as she could, “I’d love to, if we can talk about something besides Matt.”

  “You expect me not to care that you’re making a foolish decision?” her
mother demanded. “Not just foolish. You’re hurting all of us. Finn is devastated.”

  Linnea swallowed. “I don’t actually care what Finn thinks.” It was a lie, of course; she’d spent too many years trying to earn her brother’s approval or rare relaxed smile. “I don’t want to upset you,” she continued softly, “but I don’t understand your objections. You’ve known Matt a long time. He quit a job he loved and took the new one so he’d be established in Seattle, he’s wonderful with Hanna and—” He loves me. She wanted so much to say that, but that would be a lie, too.

  Her mother’s nostrils flared. “He’s using you. I don’t know what his objective is, but count on it, he thinks he’s going to put something over on Finn. Or he has some elaborate scheme for revenge, or he might be trying to get an in with Hanna. But you know perfectly well he hasn’t fallen madly in love with you.”

  Yes. She did. That didn’t make her mother’s words hurt any less.

  Hiding her distress, she lifted her chin and said, “Because it’s so unlikely anyone would fall madly in love with me?”

  Her mother cast her an impatient glance. “You know that’s not what I meant. Linnea, what’s happened to you? Family used to mean something to you. You’re pushing us away for his sake. Is that really what you want to do?”

  “It’s tearing me up inside. But Matt’s not the one making me choose, Mom. You are.” Linnea fought for her poise. “I’ll be back for Hanna at five.” And she turned and walked out of her parents’ house.

  Would it ever get better? Or should she quit trying to have her family and Matt, too?

  Only twice since Christmas had she stayed for a meal. Both occasions had been miserable, with her mother working into the conversation, whatever the topic, jabs at Matt and at Linnea’s betrayal of her brother’s wishes.

  If only she weren’t having terrible doubts about agreeing to marry Matt. She should have gotten to know him better; waited to be sure she was strong enough to stand up to a man so accustomed to having his own way.

  Two days after they had looked at the house, he’d called to tell her he had made an offer that had been accepted. He’d talked about closing and letting their respective landlords know they would be moving out. “I’ll pick up some cardboard boxes for you to start packing,” he’d said. “Lucky I never got around to going through the stuff from my parents’.”