by Beverly Farr
He kissed her forehead. “You are a good wife,” he said quietly, as if reassuring a child. “Now, do you think you could be happy here?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, we’ll take it,” he said in a louder voice to the realtor. “Make an offer and draw up the necessary papers.”
“What?” Kelly demanded, stepping back. “Aren’t we going to look around at more properties, and talk about it?”
He said, “I thought you didn’t want to be bothered with all that.”
He was quoting her exact words. “I can be happy anywhere,” she’d told him; “Find something you like,” she’d said; so it wasn’t fair to protest now. She looked at him, eyes narrowed. His take-charge attitude had its downside, she realized. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be swept up into his plans.
Is that how they’d gotten married?
The realtor looked hopefully between them. “Do you want to think about this some more?”
Kelly looked at Lars. She sensed that he was in a hurry to buy a house and get settled. Probably so he could get back to work. He’d been taking a lot of time off, lately. Now that they were staying married, there was no more talk of his leaving Rawlins. “No, this is fine,” she said. It didn’t matter where she lived, so she’d save her arguments for something more important. “If you want it, let’s buy it.”
Lars smiled at her. “Thank you. I know you’ll have a lot of fun decorating it.”
That was going to be challenging, she thought. She had no idea what Lars liked in furnishings, but she would bet he had conservative tastes and would want a lot of heavy cherry wood and oak antiques. She preferred empty rooms and walls with pillows on the floor. But good relationships were built on compromise, and she was willing to compromise. Besides, as a Vice President of Rawlins, his house would need to be a showplace.
As they walked through the marble tiled front foyer, Kelly glanced at the chandelier above them. “This will have to go,” she said at the same time he said, “Naturally, we’ll upgrade the light fixtures.”
Kelly smiled at the way their minds worked in unison. She said slowly, “I see this area bright red with a yellow ceiling, don’t you?”
The realtor’s eyes widened and Lars choked out, “What?”
Kelly giggled at his look of horror. “I’m just kidding.”
He hooked his finger around a belt loop on her colorful jeans and gave a little tug. “I’m not sure I should trust you with a paint brush.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You shouldn’t trust me, period,” she teased, but the joke fell flat. Lars stiffened and turned away, avoiding her gaze.
The closeness they’d just shared was gone. Of course Lars didn’t trust her. He thought she’d married him and slept with him out of revenge. Kelly’s heart felt like a stone in her throat.
The realtor looked uncomfortable. “I’ll draw up the papers and get back to you as soon as possible, Mr. Henderson,” she said with forced cheerfulness. She nodded at Kelly. “Mrs. Henderson.”
Mrs. Henderson. It still sounded like someone else.
They drove back to her studio in awkward silence. Finally, Kelly said, “It’s a beautiful house. I’m sure we’ll be very happy there.”
His lips stayed in a straight line. “Yes.”
“Did you notice azalea bushes? The front yard is going to be beautiful in March.”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t really listening to her. Kelly sighed. “I’m trying to make the best of our situation, Lars. I’d appreciate your cooperation. If you’re mad at me for some reason, tell me, instead of sulking. I can’t read your mind.”
“I’m not sulking,” he said, then the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Maybe I am.”
She relaxed. This was the good natured Lars she liked so well. “So what’s the trouble?”
He shook his head. “It’s not important.”
Translated, that meant he didn’t want to tell her. Knowing him, he was probably thinking of something from her lost weekend. “I may never remember those days,” she said quietly. “Don’t you think it’s better for us to focus on the present and what we can do now to make the best possible future? No matter what we’ve done, can’t we still be friends?” As she spoke, she realized this was what she wanted from him. A marriage based on respect and friendship. Sprinkled with a few electrifying, heart-jumping kisses like those in her father’s office, she admitted wryly. She definitely wanted more of those.
He parked his car beside hers in the driveway. He turned to smile at her. “Yes, you’re right. Forgive me.”
He had so much to forgive her for -- for using him to get back at Nigel. She still found that impossible to believe, but if it weren’t true, why had she lied to him? She reached up to brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “It must be very difficult for you, having your bride forget the honeymoon.”
He took her hand in his. “No more difficult than it is for you.” He kissed her fingers, then turned her hand over to kiss her palm.
She gasped. She’d never thought of her hands being particularly sensitive, but the touch of his lips sent a delicious quiver through her body. She undid her seat belt and scooted closer, wanting more.
“Ah, Kelly,” he murmured huskily. “I don’t know whether to be glad you light up so well, or be annoyed that you can’t remember.”
“Be glad. It’s a begin--” She stopped suddenly. “That Nigel’s car.” It was parked across the street by some oleander bushes. He could see Lars kissing her wrist.
Lars said, “Ignore him.”
She sat up straight, and pulled her hand away. “No, I can’t.” She couldn’t kiss him with her ex-fiancé watching. She peered more closely through the window. “It is Nigel’s car, and he’s sitting there, waiting for me.”
“Don’t --” he said, but she had already opened the passenger door and stepped out.
“Stay here,” she begged. “Please? This won’t take long. I should talk to him. After what I did, I owe him that much.” She still felt bad about their last conversation.
He snapped, “You don’t owe him anything.”
“I’ll be back in just a second.” As she shut the door, she heard Lars swear.
She walked over to Nigel’s car and knocked on the window. “Hi,” she said nervously.
He opened the door and came out. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt that fit snugly across his chest. He was still an attractive man, she realized, but she felt nothing for him. How could she be so fickle? A few days ago she’d planned to marry him.
He handed her another bouquet of a dozen red roses. “These are for you.”
In the entire time she’d known him he’d brought her flowers twice -- once in the hospital and now. “Thank you.” The flowers were lovely, no matter who gave them to her.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said last week,” he said gruffly. “About us. I still love you. I still want to marry you.”
She was stunned by his words. “What about the baby?”
Nigel frowned with distaste. “Get rid of it, and I’ll never mention it again. I mean, we all make mistakes, right?”
How could he be so cold-hearted about her baby? This was her baby, a new life inside her, and she would do everything necessary to protect and nurture the child. Her mother was right -- Lars was a much nicer man. Marrying Nigel would have only brought her heartache. She shook her head. “I’m marrying Lars.” There was no point in telling him that they were already married and had been for nearly three months.
He looked down at the ground, and said nothing for a minute, as if he were considering his options. Finally, he looked up and said, “Then I hope you’ll be very happy together.”
She was pleased that he was handling the news so well. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Kelly no longer loved Nigel, she wasn’t even sure she liked him, but she was glad she’d seen him one last time. Now she could put the past behind her with a clear conscience.
#
Lar
s watched Kelly go. Why did she want to talk to Nigel? She’d already broken their engagement. What else was there to say?
Unless she is having second thoughts.
He knew that the man had an incredible hold on her. “Are you going back to Nigel?” he’d asked on their honeymoon when she said she wanted a divorce.
“Why should you care? It’s not like we love each other. At least Nigel loves me.”
“A fine way to show it -- sleeping with your friend.”
“And now I’ve slept with you. We’re even.”
The memory of her harsh words cut through him. Lars opened his car door and followed after her. He wasn’t going to let her go so easily this time.
He quickened his pace. His only hope was to put down roots, with a house, and the baby, as soon as possible. Then maybe their friendship and passion would be enough to make her forget Nigel.
Kelly looked over at him and smiled as he approached. She held out her hand to take his. “Lars,” she said happily.
He took her hand and held it tightly, gratefully. She was still his. She hadn’t remembered.
Nigel looked at them both. “Best wishes,” he said with a slick smile. “No hard feelings. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
Not if I can help it. Nigel walked back to his car, whistling. Arrogant jerk.
“Wasn’t that nice of him?” Kelly asked. She bent her head to smell the roses.
Lars frowned. He didn’t trust Nigel, he never had. He was too much of an actor, too smooth. And Kelly was much too generous with her forgiveness. He waited until Nigel started his engine and started backing out of his parking place. Then he pulled Kelly towards him and kissed her hard. She dropped the bouquet of roses.
“What was that for?” she laughed, catching her breath.
“I want him to know you’re my wife, not his.”
“Don’t be such a Neanderthal,” she teased as she bent down to pick up the fallen flowers.
Lars didn’t say anything. Sometimes he felt like a Neanderthal.
CHAPTER SIX
Her mother came into the bedroom, her face flustered. She said breathlessly, “Brenda has shaved her head.”
The make-up artist tilted Kelly’s head so that she could apply the eye-liner. “Don’t move,” she ordered.
Kelly said, “What?”
“Brenda. She’s shaved her head.”
She frowned. This was bad. She knew Brenda had been unhappy lately, but something horrendous must have happened to make her cut her long naturally blonde hair. Kelly had been so busy with wedding preparations, she hadn’t talked to Brenda in days.
The make-up artist’s tightened her grip on her chin. “Hold still.”
“She looked so lovely last night at the rehearsal dinner,” her mother bemoaned. “What will we do about the photographs?”
Kelly didn’t want her mother to have a heart attack today. “Mom, it doesn’t matter,” she said calmly. “If nothing else, it will give us all something to laugh about on our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.” If she and Lars stayed married that long, she thought dismally.
Her mother sighed with relief. “So you’re not upset?”
“No, but ask Brenda to come in and see me,” she said.
“I will.” She walked over to see how Kelly’s face was progressing. “More blush,” she said briskly.
Kelly countered it with, “Less, please.”
Her mother patted her head which was covered with large curlers to flatten out her waves. “You’re beautiful,” she said, and kissed the air by her cheek. “Now I’ll go find Brenda and see if your father’s ready. He’ll need help with his bow tie.”
A few minutes later, Brenda slipped into the room. Kelly asked the make-up artist to leave them alone.
For a moment, Kelly said nothing, just looking at her friend’s smooth, bald head in amazement.
“Do you hate me?” Brenda asked.
“I could never hate you.”
“But I look like a freak.”
“Why did you do it?”
She shrugged. “I broke up with Steven. For the last time.”
Kelly didn’t know how to respond, since Brenda had broken up with him before. “And you had to cut your hair?”
“He loves my hair. I wanted to be sure he’d never come back.”
Kelly’s heart ached for her friend. “Oh Brenda,” she said softly. “It won’t work. You’re still beautiful, even without hair. You look like a sexy alien.”
Brenda sniffed and reached for a tissue. “Thanks.” She blew her nose. “I just wanted what you’re getting -- a happy marriage with someone I could trust.”
“One of these days, you will,” Kelly reassured her. “The right guy hasn’t come along yet.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I believe in that any more. I’m never going to get married. Maybe I’ll become a nun.”
“You’re not Catholic.”
“I’ll convert.”
Kelly smiled. As long as Brenda could joke about it, she’d be all right. “Give me a hug,” she said.
Brenda hesitated. “I don’t want to wrinkle your dress.”
Kelly hugged her anyway. “I’m glad you broke up with Steven. I love you and I want you to find someone better.”
Brenda held her fingers up under her eyes. “Don’t make me cry,” she said. “My mascara will run.”
Someone knocked on the door, and opened it a few inches. “Mind if I come in?” It was Tiffany. Like Brenda, she was wearing the pink satin, strapless gown that her mother had chosen. She had a wreath of flowers in her hair. She noticed Brenda and said flatly to Kelly, “Oh. You already know.”
“Join the party,” Kelly said.
Brenda smiled. “Maybe with the wreath, no one will notice.”
Tiffany looked uncomfortable. “You have a very nicely shaped head.”
Brenda laughed. “I’ll let you two talk,” she said and left the room.
Tiffany waited until she was gone, then whispered. “I’m worried about Brenda.”
Kelly didn’t comment. She said, “Looks like I’m the first of the three amigas to get married.”
Tiffany nodded. “I can’t believe you’re marrying Lars instead of Nigel. He’s so ... corporate.” She said it as if it were a character flaw.
Like her, Tiffany was an artist. She designed jewelry instead of pots.
Kelly shrugged. “Opposites attract.” She still found it difficult to believe herself. The past two weeks had flown by with finalizing the purchase of their house, and Lars taking a business trip to Boston. They’d barely had any time to talk. And other than a quick peck now and then, he hadn’t kissed her. Kelly was beginning to think she’d imagined the passionate exchange in her father’s office.
What was going to happen tonight? Was he going to give her one of those chaste little kisses and say good night, or were they going to make love?
Tiffany said, “Are you really going to be happy married to a glorified lamp salesman?”
“Watch it,” Kelly said lightly. “My dad’s a very successful lamp salesman. There’s nothing wrong with selling lamps. Besides, Rawlins sells more chandeliers than lamps.”
“I beg your pardon,” Tiffany said mockingly, and laughed. “I guess it doesn’t matter what Lars does, just as long as you don’t turn into your mother.”
Her mother, who had dedicated her life to pleasing her husband and promoting his career. “Never fear,” Kelly said. “Hair and make-up to the contrary, I’m still the same Kelly Rawlins inside.”
“You won’t be after you get married,” Tiffany said. “I’ve seen it too many times. You think you won’t change, but you will, and then you won’t have time for your old friends any more.”
Kelly reached for Tiffany’s hand. She had been ignoring her for the past few weeks. “I’ll make time for you,” she promised.
Tiffany looked away. She laughed nervously. “Since you don’t want Nigel any more, do you mind if I make a play for him?”
Kelly suddenly remembered.
That Friday morning she’d dropped by Nigel’s apartment with a new teapot she’d made. He didn’t come to the door when she knocked, so she used her key, planning to surprise him by leaving the teapot and a note on his kitchen table. But she’d been the one to get a surprise.
He and Tiffany were making love on the black leather couch. Tiffany had run around the living room, gathering up her clothes, apologizing profusely.
That’s why she and Nigel had broken up. And why she’d been avoiding her friend, because subconsciously she knew she couldn’t be trusted.
Kelly looked at her bridesmaid with new eyes. How could she have been so blind? Was she such a poor judge of character? She’d thought that Tiffany was one of her good friends and she’d planned to marry Nigel. The thought made her feel ill.
But that hardly mattered now. She was married to Lars and starting a new life. At least with Lars, she knew instinctively that he would be faithful and true. Swallowing her hurt, she said, “Go ahead, you’re welcome to him.” They deserved each other. She gave a false smile. “I hope you’ll be happy together.”
“Thank you.” Tiffany blinked away tears, then gave her a big hug. “I hope you and Lars will be happy, too.”
Crocodile tears, Kelly thought.
“Excuse me,” the make-up artist said, leaning into the room. “Can I finish now?”
Tiffany left and Kelly sat still while her lipstick was applied.
She might not like what she remembered, but at least she’d remembered something. Hopefully, she’d remember more about those missing five days.
Why had Lars married her and why had she asked for a divorce?
The success of their marriage and their new family might depend upon the answers.
#
“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God, to witness ....”
Kelly glanced at Lars, standing beside her. How handsome he looked in his black tuxedo and brilliant white shirt. He had a very serious expression on his face. Was he remembering their first wedding, the one in Reno?
