The Happiness Pact

by Liz Flaherty

  Jack and Arlie were already at Jesse’s when they got there. The dining room table was set for six with what Libby said was her mother’s favorite china. She said the silverware and glasses were unfamiliar, though. Tucker had been a bachelor long enough to think Jesse had probably broken the old glasses and lost the flatware. If a person used it with disposable dishes, he tended to throw away the forks along with the paper plates.

  “Let’s sit.” Holly, always animated, fairly pulsated with energy. “I don’t have enough faith in my cooking to chance letting it get cold.”

  “I helped,” said Jesse mildly. “I got the dinner rolls and the pie at the Amish bakery.”

  “Good man.” Tucker offered a fist bump.

  “I got the wine.” Jack puffed out his chest a little, and his brother thumped it. “Well, I did.”

  Arlie was pouring ice water into glasses. “Settle down,” she admonished. “You’re among friends and relatives.” She looked around, smiling at Jack. “And soon some of the friends will be relatives.”

  “Does this mean I have to be nice to him when he’s my brother-in-law?” Holly elbowed Jack.

  “I don’t think so,” said Tuck. “He might get used to it, and we can’t have that. On the other hand, you should be really nice to me because I’ll be your sister’s brother-in-law.”

  Libby grinned at her brother. “I take it from this conversation that we don’t have to be nice to anybody.”

  “Well.” He snagged Holly’s hand when she came to stand beside him. “About that.”

  It was as if the world stopped moving. Arlie stood stock-still. Jack put his arm around her, pulling her into his side. He took the water pitcher from her hand and set it on the corner of the table. Libby clasped her hands in front of her and Tucker stood behind her, draping his forearms over her shoulders. He felt her tremble against him and drew her closer.

  “We talked to Mama this afternoon,” said Holly. “You know how she always wants me to have a boyfriend, even when she doesn’t come right out and say it. That’s why Arlie’s been her favorite ever since she and Jack got engaged.”

  “That’s only one reason.” Arlie looked smug even as laughter lit her golden-brown eyes. “There are lots of others.”

  Jack slipped a hand lightly over her mouth. “Go on, Holly. I’ll control her. For a minute, anyway.”

  Holly sighed heavily. “Thank you, Jack. Anyway, Jess heard about me needing a boyfriend, and what do you know? He was looking for someone, too.” She stopped and extended a hand toward Jesse, inviting him to continue.

  “I wanted someone who would talk so I wouldn’t have to.” Jesse let go of Holly’s hand and put his arm around her. “As you know, if you don’t answer her, she just keeps right on talking. After a while, you kind of get used to it, and the house is too quiet when she’s not in it.” He reached past her to pick up one of the wineglasses that sat beside a plate. “Today, she brought glasses when she came. A few weeks ago, she brought spoons and forks and stuff and told me I couldn’t take any of the knives out to the clinic anymore.” Jesse did his best to look haunted. “I think she means to stay.”

  Arlie spoke into the waiting silence. “Mama won’t go for it.” She shook her head solemnly. “Jack and I don’t really want to get married, but Charlie and Mama said we had to.”

  “See?” Holly gazed up at Jesse. “I told you.”

  “Okay, fine.” Jesse laughed, something he didn’t do nearly often enough. “We’re getting married, too. We decided it even before we called Gianna.” He reached to tug Arlie to him. “I love your sister,” he promised, “more than anything, ever, and I always will.”

  Holly reached across the table to grasp Libby’s hands. “And I love your brother. More than anything. I always will.”

  While the food cooled on the table, everyone hugged everyone else. Jack poured the wine, and each person toasted the happy couple with varying degrees of hilarity and sincerity. By the time they sat down, they agreed that in one way or another, they would all soon be related.

  When Tucker and Libby left the farm, they rode as far as the golf course with Jack and Arlie, where they picked up Tucker’s car. “You look happy,” he said, looking over at her. “And yet you don’t.”

  “I am,” she assured him, “for Jesse and Holly both. But my brother was my last commitment, the only thing that really held me here. Whatever I want to do, wherever I want to go, there’s nothing holding me.” Her smile was wobbly. “I even forgive my dad. Jesse’s happy, so I could do that. Have you forgiven yours?”

  “Pretty much. I talked to Jack about it, and he said being happy was up to us. If we go on blaming our father, it’ll hurt us, not him. So I think I’ve let it go.”

  “That’s good. You and I will both be better for it.”

  “We will.” He hoped. He wasn’t sure how much faith he had in the power of forgiveness.

  He pulled in beside the carriage house and they got out of the car, moving to the bench beside the lake. He wanted to ask her how she could think of leaving him, but he didn’t. As deep as it was, until the past year, he’d always been a part-time friend. Maybe it was her turn for that.

  “I still don’t know where to go or what to do,” she said, “but I’ll figure it out.”

  He tugged her close and pointed at the sky, at the stars that were appearing from between the clouds. “Look up there. Find Venus. Ask her.”

  * * *

  LIBBY GAVE UP baking for the restaurants after the tornado and discovered she didn’t miss it at all. After a couple of days, she asked Neely if she’d like to buy the business and wasn’t surprised when the other woman agreed immediately. “But I’ll lease the property from you. I don’t have children to leave it to, so I’d rather not own it, but as soon as you find where you want to live, I’ll sell my condo and move into the apartment.”

  “Do you want to rebuild the house?”

  Neely shook her head. “The space in the carriage house is actually more convenient for the tearoom business, don’t you think?”

  Libby nodded agreement. “It is.” She tilted her head. “Did you ever think when you came to work for me that you’d end up in business for yourself?”

  The other woman laughed, looking years younger than the sixty-something Libby knew she was. “Never. I guess it’s just one of those things that happen when you least expect it.”

  “That’s it!” They said it in unison, then broke into a very unmusical version of Cole Porter’s “Just One of Those Things.”

  “It couldn’t be any better,” said Libby. “Everything about it, including the tornado that changed everything, was just exactly that. You can even put some kind of explanation on a sign.”

  Libby sold Neely the stove, feeling a pang because she’d bought it with the winnings of the gambling adventure she’d had with Tucker.

  She bought a little blue SUV, the first brand-new car she’d ever owned, and named it Venus. She drove it to the Dower House to show Tucker, stayed for dinner with him, Arlie, Jack and Charlie, and announced she was leaving the next day on a road trip.

  Tucker exchanged a glance with his brother. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I can work from the road.”

  “Sure,” Jack agreed quickly.

  “Better yet,” said Charlie, “Uncle Tuck can stay here and I’ll go with you.”

  Arlie tugged at his hair. “Not happening, big boy.” She smiled at Libby, their eyes meeting. “Want us to watch Pretty Boy and Elijah for you?”

  “If you would.”

  “You’ll be back in time for the wedding rehearsal?” Arlie didn’t look worried.

  “Like I’d miss it. I have to practice up to catch the bouquet the next day.”

  “Where are you going?” Tucker did look worried.

  “Up to see Alice and Dan first, then
to North Carolina to see Nate and Mandy for a couple of days. They’ve been asking me to come down, and there’s no better time.” She met Tucker’s concerned gaze. “Besides, I’ve heard Venus looks great from the beach.”

  He reached to cup her cheek. “You’ll pocket dial me in the middle of the night if you need me?”

  Tears flooded her eyes before she could stop them. “I will. I promise.”

  Tucker went with her when she left, to go for a ride in the new car. “I know you don’t need me to kick your tires or set the right stations on the radio, but I’ll do it anyway.”

  They drove for a while, parked at the carriage house and went to sit by the lake, where they watched the water and made desultory conversation.

  “I won’t get in the way of you taking your trip,” he said when they got up to leave, tangling his fingers with hers, “but I need to tell you something before you go, so you can think about it. Or not.”

  “Okay.” She pulled free and picked up a flat stone, tried skipping it on the lake’s smooth surface, and shrugged when it sank without even a little hop.

  “Like this.” He side-armed a stone and it bounced three, no, four times over the dark, glassy water. “You try.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not something I need to do. I’d rather watch you. So, what is it you want to tell me? You already kicked my tires and programmed my radio, including one station I’ll never listen to even once because it’s so bad.”

  “Let’s do this first.” He sounded nervous, which was unusual for Tucker. But when he pulled her into his arms and covered her lips with his, she understood why. It wasn’t a buddy kiss, or a brotherly one. It wasn’t even one of the warm, yearning ones they’d done some experimenting with since the night of their birthday party.

  No, this was a kiss of passion, of possession, of...she wasn’t sure what, but she was powerless to resist it. Her arms went around his neck, and she stood on her toes to gain more access. To get nearer, and nearer yet, because nothing was close enough.

  Her heartbeat—or was it his?—thundered in her ears. He tasted of coffee and spearmint and all that was familiar and beloved. And more. The sound of the lake calmed the rush of need, yet left urgency unsated between them. They kissed again. And again. And yet again.

  Her breath came shattered and uneven, and she didn’t care. Her toes ached and burned with the effort of standing on them, but she would have let them break rather than disconnect from Tucker’s touch.

  This...oh, Lord, yes, this was why she’d lived when she hadn’t cared if she did or not. Why the viper had never reached her.

  She didn’t know whether it had been twenty seconds or twenty minutes when he raised his head, separating them before she wanted him to, and set his hands on her hips to put space between them. She relaxed enough for her heels to touch the ground. Although she couldn’t feel the earth at all. It was still moving.

  For a minute, neither of them spoke. He didn’t let her go, and she didn’t pull away. When he rested his forehead against hers, she reveled in the connection. Rejoiced in how he made her feel in every cell of her body.

  It had been kisses. It had been, in the vernacular of high school days, making out. It had been...

  “That, Llewellyn, was an adventure.” Her voice sounded airy—no surprise, since she felt pretty airy from the top of her head to her aching toes.

  “It goes with what I have to tell you.” His voice was thready, too. They were standing near one of the old-fashioned post lamps that lit the lakeside walking path, so she could see his eyes. The warmth in them washed over her, and she waited.

  “I love you,” he said, and he didn’t sound funny anymore.

  She lost her breath, then gained it back almost as quickly. Of course he did. They loved each other. They always had. “I know,” she said. “I—”

  “No.” He laid gentle fingertips over her lips, raising his index finger to tap the end of her nose. His voice was low and calm, and it strummed her senses like she was a stringed instrument. “No, I mean I’m in love with you. You’re the one I want to be with forever, whose kids I want, who I want to share the four bedrooms and two baths with.” His fingers left her mouth to tunnel through her hair. “Well, maybe just one bedroom.”

  She closed her eyes, and for a moment she was silent. She turned her head to press her lips to his palm. “Tuck.” She could feel it. The panic was rising up to eclipse the joy, just as it always did. “I don’t—”

  “No.” He interrupted her again. “I don’t want you to say anything now. I just want you to think about it. We’re best friends. There is no better basis for being in love than that one.” He shrugged so that her hands slipped from his shoulders to his chest. “I know now that being in love—as over the moon as Jack and Arlie are—that’s what I want.” He smiled, and his eyes smiled, too. “It’s what I feel, but if you don’t feel the same way...well, we’ll go on like we were before.”

  “You know I love you, too?” she said, unable to get her voice above a whisper. “I don’t think I can be what you need, but I will always love you.”

  “I know.”

  At the door of the carriage house, he kissed her again. “Be careful driving. Let me know where you are. Okay?” He looked upward. “I’m counting on Venus.”

  She nodded and hugged him hard. “Stay safe, Tuck.” She stepped inside before he could reply, then laid a hand on one of the panes in the French door. He placed his fingers against the glass on the other side, and she fancied she felt their warmth. She smiled and blew him a kiss.

  It was time to go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ALICE INVITED HER to spend the night with them when she visited the next day. “I’ll even let you get up with Carson,” she promised, moving around the kitchen. “There’s plenty of milk for him in the freezer.”

  Libby looked down at the baby in her arms. He grinned gummily at her, and she grinned back. “You’re giving me a new appreciation for bald men,” she told him. “Tucker wouldn’t stand a chance next to you.”

  “You need to have a few of your own.” Alice set tea in front of her and slid into the chair across the table. “I know, I know.” She held up a hand when Libby started to speak. “Not everyone should have children. Not everyone should be married. However—” she smiled at Libby and the baby she held, her expression tender “—you’re not everyone, are you, Libby? You’re dying to get married, dying to have kids. And when anyone mentions Tucker Llewellyn, you light up from the inside out. Did you know that?”

  “I’m not surprised,” Libby said drily.

  “And he reacts to you the same way.”

  Carson whimpered, and Libby rocked from side to side, humming under her breath as she remembered the kisses beside the lake last night. Remembered what he’d said to her. What he’d asked her to think about.

  As if there was a snowball’s chance in Hades she could think about anything else.

  “There’s more to it.” How could she explain the secret without telling it? It was all well and good that Tucker knew—sort of—but she wasn’t ready to put it on a résumé. “I have baggage—”

  “Do you know I’ve been taking antidepressants since I was twelve?” Alice’s voice was pleasant and conversational when she interrupted. She stretched an arm across the table. The scars on her wrist were faint but easily distinguishable. “That was when I did that. My brother found me on my bedroom floor. I ended up in a psych unit because...well, because I was twelve years old and I tried to kill myself. When I was sixteen, I tried again, with pills—stomach pumping is not a process I recommend, by the way. I met Dan when I was in college. He was in grad school answering a suicide hotline. One night during finals, he talked me off the virtual ledge. He’s been doing it ever since.”

  “How did you—” The baby whimpered again and Libby nuzzled his s
weet-smelling neck and rocked once more. “Where did you find the courage to take a chance? Not just with your own life, but with Dan’s. With the kids’?” It was a horrible question, but she needed to hear its answer.

  “I don’t know,” Alice admitted. “To begin with, probably from Dan and from whatever fortitude of my own I had, because it takes strength just to get from day to day, Libby—you know that. I was terrified to have kids, just like you are, and as soon as Gavin and then Mari were old enough to understand what they needed to do if Mommy went off the deep end, we sat them down and explained. We’ll do the same thing with Carson.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she scrubbed at them with a napkin. “I hate that I’ve given Gavin the kind of responsibility he has—in the end, it’s up to him to try to watch after the little ones if I have what we euphemistically call a visit from Uncle Petrie. Please don’t ask me where that came from—I have no idea.”

  Libby laughed, although she had tears on her cheeks, too. She’d cried more in the past two weeks than she had in the eighteen years before them. “I call it the viper. I think I like Uncle Petrie better.”

  “Feel free to borrow him.” Alice refilled their teacups. “It’s not smart that we keep it to ourselves as much as we can, but that doesn’t alter the fact that that’s exactly what we do. I just want to be Alice, not Alice with depression. I don’t want the kids having to explain ‘Mom has a problem’ their entire lives.” She met Libby’s eyes. “Know you can call me any time of day or night. And don’t hang up before I answer. I will know the same thing about you. Okay?”

  “How did you know that? That I hang up when I call?”

  “Because I’ve done the same thing so often. But when I was sixteen, I stayed on the line when I called my sister at the last minute to ask her to tell our parents how sorry I was. It saved my life.”

  Libby sipped her tea, missing her tearoom but glad she’d sold it at the same time. “What made you say something now?”