“No, sir, I’m not married. I was once, ten years ago. I never planned to go through that again.”
Grandpa Roger visibly relaxed. “I see. Once burned, twice shy. Is that it?”
Joe nodded. It was true, after all.
“Children?”
“No.” Joe rose from his chair. He would have paced the office, only there wasn’t enough room. “I think I should talk to Alicia.”
“That was my thought, too.”
“I’ll go now.”
Grandpa Roger stood. “We’ll go together.”
“But, sir, I—”
“You’ll find I’m a stubborn old man, Joe, when I choose to be. This is one of the times I choose to be.”
Alicia stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her complexion was pallid.
Maybe Joe and Susie were right.
She winced, hating to admit that, even if only to herself.
“I am tired. Terribly tired.”
She hoped her grandfather would understand when she told him she wasn’t going to church this morning. She didn’t have the energy.
She sighed. She owed Joe an apology. He’d been concerned for her welfare. Maybe he’d overstepped his bounds a little, but their argument was her fault. She’d been out of sorts and had made him pay for it.
She turned from the sink and left the bathroom. No point putting it off. She would make her apologies now.
Joe and her grandfather were standing in the middle of the living room when Alicia emerged from the hallway. Something in Joe’s expression caused her to stop in her tracks.
“We need to talk,” Grandpa Roger said.
Joe gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, followed by an equally subtle shrug.
“Let’s all sit down,” her grandfather added. “Shall we?”
Apprehensive, Alicia sat in the wing chair closest to the piano. Joe sat across the room from her in the recliner. Grandpa Roger settled onto the couch.
“Alicia, my dear girl, I overheard your argument with Joe this morning,” her grandfather began. “Your door was ajar.”
Her heart sank. She lowered her gaze to a spot on the hardwood floor, about three feet in front of her.
“I can only surmise why you have concocted this pretense. I suspect it was to protect me. For my health.”
She nodded.
“I won’t judge you, Alicia, for the choices you’ve made. It isn’t my place to sit in judgment. But I’d be in error if I didn’t encourage you to do what your heart knows is right. I’ve witnessed the love you and Joe have for each other. Your baby should have the privilege of seeing it, too.”
“Oh, Grandpa,” she whispered.
He continued, his voice gentle but firm. “Whatever impediment you perceived that kept you from marrying before now, it can be overcome. And I hope, if the impediment was my reaction when you called me last spring, that you can forgive me for my careless words.”
She looked up, knowing the moment had come to tell the truth. The whole truth. “Grandpa, I think you should know that—”
“Your grandfather’s right,” Joe interrupted, rising to his feet. “We should get married.” He stepped toward her, skirting the coffee table. “I told him about my being divorced and never intending to marry again. But he’s right. That’s no excuse. We should do as he says.”
“But, Joe, we can’t—”
He knelt beside her chair. “We can work things through. I know we can.” He took hold of her hands, pressing them together between his. His eyes beseeched her not to argue with him. “Marry me.”
She could scarcely think over the din of her pounding heart.
“Say yes.”
In some remote part of her brain, she knew this couldn’t be happening, that she was dreaming and any moment now she would wake up.
“Say yes.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her grandfather stood. “You two should be alone.”
She was aware of Grandpa Roger leaving the living room, heard the click of his bedroom door closing behind him, but her gaze never strayed from Joe. Not even for an instant. She wanted the fantasy to continue a little longer. She wanted to believe in the love her grandfather thought he saw. She wanted to pretend she was carrying Joe Palermo’s baby and that he loved her and wanted to marry her, wanted them to be a family.
Joe shattered the romantic daydream with a few softly spoken words.
“Good thing you played along.” He released her hands, then rose to his feet. “I think the shock might’ve killed him. You should’ve seen him down in the basement. I was really worried.”
She blinked.
“I’ll draft a prenup agreement that’ll protect us both,” he continued, just above a whisper. “The marriage can be annulled after your grandfather goes back to Arizona.”
Her throat ached, and her chest hurt.
Joe leaned down, touched the back of her hand, forcing her to look at him once again. “It’ll be okay. It’s only for a few weeks. I can be convincing in my role as the new husband. I’ve come to care for your grandfather too much to let anything happen to him because of me.”
He cared for her grandfather too much. But what about her? Had he made this offer because she meant something to him?
“He already thinks the baby is mine,” Joe added, his words persuasive. “Let him think it awhile longer. Just until he’s clear out of danger.”
She drew a shaky breath. “He looked bad when you were in the basement?”
Joe nodded.
God, what should I do? Would this be wrong? Worse than the lies I’ve already told?
“We’ll see this through, Alicia. We’ll make sure your grandfather’s okay.”
Perhaps, but she couldn’t help wondering if she would be okay when it was all over.
Chapter Eleven
Joe was as good as his word. His prenuptial agreement, which he presented to Alicia on Tuesday morning before she went to work, covered all the bases.
“I had another lawyer look it over,” he assured her. “He’s got plenty of expertise in domestic law. We don’t want any unforeseen problems later on. It was his idea to add this.” He pointed to a section of the document.
The clause specified that Alicia’s baby was not Joe’s offspring, and he would not now nor at any future time be expected to provide financial support for it.
The daddy clause, she thought sadly as she read it a second time. Or, to be more accurate, the nondaddy clause.
Suppressing a sigh, she signed the document and handed it back to Joe without comment. She would rather die than let him see how wounded she felt by it all. She was doing this for the sake of her grandfather, she kept telling herself. For her grandfather and no other reason.
But even for Grandpa Roger she wouldn’t change her mind about where to have the wedding. They would be married by a judge at the county courthouse. Period. No argument. Her grandfather would be one witness, Susie Notter would be the other. No invitations. No announcements. No celebrations. Nice and simple.
“I’m eight months pregnant” was the only explanation she would give her grandfather for her decision. “I don’t want a church wedding and all the fuss that goes with it. It would be rather inappropriate at this juncture, don’t you think?”
Only to herself did she admit the real reason for her choice of a civil ceremony—because she couldn’t bring herself to speak false vows in church. She couldn’t pledge before a minister to remain with Joe “until death do you part” when the truth was they would part in a matter of weeks. This was what novels called a marriage of convenience. It wasn’t meant to be real and lasting.
On Friday morning, five days after her grandfather had confronted them in her living room, Alicia, Joe and Grandpa Roger got into Joe’s SUV and drove to Boise. It was snowing again, and it took twice as long as normal to reach the courthouse. Susie was waiting for them by the main doors.
“Judge Sm
ith’s in court now,” a woman behind the counter told them while checking her wristwatch. “But he can marry you during his next break. About another half hour, I’d guess.” She motioned to an empty bench. “Have a seat, and I’ll call you when he’s free.”
“Thank you, miss,” Grandpa Roger said.
Joe cupped Alicia’s elbow with his hand and guided her to the bench. “Can I get you anything while we wait?”
She shook her head, reminding herself that he was playing his part—the solicitous bridegroom.
“Well, I’m thirsty.” He glanced down the corridor, first to the left, then to the right. “I’ll be over at the water fountain.” He pointed.
“I’m going with him,” her grandfather said.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to smile a little,” Susie whispered in her ear. “It’s your wedding day.”
Smile? Alicia couldn’t remember how. “What am I doing here?”
“What you think you need to do.” Susie took hold of her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
Alicia looked toward the water fountain.
Grandpa Roger seemed well enough. She’d seen no signs of ill health this week, no indications his heart was acting up. He walked more slowly than he used to; he slept later in the mornings and took a few naps during the day. But didn’t most people his age slow down and sleep more? Joe had said Grandpa Roger looked ghastly on Sunday morning when the two of them talked alone. That being the case, she must be doing the right thing, for her grandfather looked healthy this morning.
“What I need to do,” she said, repeating the words like a mantra.
“There aren’t many guys who would agree to this. Joe must care about you a lot.”
“He’s very kind.”
As if realizing they were talking about him, Joe turned his head and met Alicia’s gaze. He smiled and winked at her.
She forgot to breathe.
“Ow!” Susie protested. “Let up.”
Alicia looked at her friend.
“You’re breaking my hand.”
She glanced down. “I’m sorry.” She released her grip. “I didn’t—” She stopped, not knowing what she’d intended to say. She lifted her gaze, tears welling in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Oh, Susie.”
“Oh, no! You love him!”
Alicia shook her head in denial, at the same time closing her eyes.
“Yes, you do.”
This time she nodded.
“Look at me,” Susie commanded.
Reluctantly Alicia obeyed.
“Does Joe know how you feel?”
“No.”
“You should tell him.”
“I can’t.”
“But—”
“He doesn’t want marriage, Susie, and he doesn’t want kids. I want both of those things. I want them a lot. Joe and I don’t have a future together, so it wouldn’t serve any purpose for him to know how I feel.”
Susie shook her head.
“I’ll get over it,” Alicia whispered.
“Will you?”
“I’ll have to.” She released a sigh. “What choice do I have?”
Joe hadn’t imagined he would ever again repeat wedding vows to anyone. But there he was, standing before Judge Smith in chambers, promising to be a husband to Alicia Harris. He knew it was in name only and temporary besides, but he felt as though it was real, all the same.
What surprised him was that it felt real…and he didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, he felt good.
Maybe that had something to do with the woman at his side. She looked lovely in her ivory-colored maternity dress with its long sleeves and delicate lace collar. He couldn’t imagine any bride looking prettier. Still, he wondered if she minded not having all the usual bride’s trappings—white gown of satin, lace and pearls, a bridal veil, a church full of flowers and friends. She deserved all of those things.
“Do you have rings to exchange?” the judge asked, interrupting Joe’s thoughts.
“Yes.”
Alicia glanced up, clearly surprised by his answer.
He removed the ring—the one he’d planned to give her for Christmas—from his pocket. “I hope it fits,” he said softly.
She watched as he slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand. Then she looked at him again.
“It matches your eyes,” he added, feeling an explanation of some sort was necessary.
“It’s beautiful. But I didn’t get a ring for you.”
He answered her with a smile.
In less than two minutes more, the judge pronounced them husband and wife. Joe gave Alicia a kiss, keeping it brief and dignified. Afterward, all parties signed the license as required by law, Joe paid the judge his fee, and it was over.
Beaming with joy, Grandpa Roger hugged Alicia, then Joe. “I’m so pleased…. This is wonderful…. God bless you both….”
When Susie embraced Joe, she whispered, “You take good care of her. You hear me?”
“I hear you.” He was bemused by the pointed look she gave him when she stepped back. It was as if she were trying to tell him something more, but he had no idea what it might be.
“I’m taking everyone out to eat,” Grandpa Roger announced. “My treat.”
“That isn’t necessary, Grandpa.”
Joe took hold of Alicia’s arm. “Yes, it is.” He leaned in close to her ear. “He wants to do it. Let’s let him.”
She replied with a nod, but he sensed her continued reluctance.
The four of them—Grandpa Roger, Susie and the newlyweds—left the judge’s chambers and walked toward the main entrance of the courthouse.
“You’ll come to eat with us, won’t you, Miss Notter?” Grandpa Roger asked.
“Can’t. Gotta get to the shop. My boss is a tough cookie.” Susie grinned as she glanced over her shoulder at Alicia. “Right?”
“Right,” Alicia replied with a smile of her own.
But Joe noticed the smile never reached her eyes, and that bothered him. He wanted her to be happy today.
He wanted her to be as happy as he was.
The truth hit him like a pro boxer’s punch to the solar plexus. He nearly stumbled over his own feet in his surprise.
Happy? To be married?
Okay, so he knew it was temporary. That could explain it. Their marriage was as much pretend now as it had been before a few words were spoken and a piece of paper signed.
Still…Joe Palermo, happy to be married?
Impossible!
Alicia was miserable.
What had she done to deserve this? Married twice in one year and neither of them destined to last more than a few weeks. Was she so unlovable?
It was ridiculous to think such things, she argued with herself. This had nothing to do with whether or not a man could love her.
But neither of her husbands had loved her.
That wasn’t fair to Joe. She shouldn’t compare the two men or the two marriages. Grant had used her, but Joe had done her a favor. Joe cared enough about both her and her grandfather to carry on this pretense for Grandpa’s sake. He was kind and generous and thoughtful and…and she loved him.
Which brought her back to why she was miserable.
Seated next to Joe in the half-empty restaurant, Alicia cast a furtive glance in his direction.
My husband.
Something warm and torturously sweet coiled in her belly. At the same time, pain pierced her heart.
Oh. Humphrey. I wish Joe was going to be your daddy.
Tears blinded her.
“Excuse me,” she whispered as she slid from the booth. “I’m going to the restroom.” She hurried away before either man could see her tears.
In the ladies’ room, Alicia leaned her back against the locked door and let them fall. She’d been holding it in all week, but now she let her pent-up hurt and frustration and loneliness and fear and anger come sobbing out. She cried because she was married and still alone. She cried because she wanted what she coul
dn’t have. She cried because she’d believed in happily ever after, and didn’t want to stop believing.
When the storm had finally passed, she stepped to the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, her eyelids puffy, her nose red. Black streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks.
“The beautiful bride,” she whispered as she turned on the water and moistened a paper towel.
When she married Grant, she’d been blissfully, ignorantly happy. Infatuated by his charisma. In love with being in love. She hadn’t known she’d married a jerk who would be cheating on her before the ink on the license was dry. Grant had never been kind to her. Not like Joe.
She met her gaze in the mirror again.
Not kind like Joe…
She looked down at the ring on her hand, at the blue-green stone and pearls. It was a beautiful ring, a costly one if she knew anything about jewelry. But it was the gesture behind the ring that meant the most to her.
It hadn’t occurred to her to buy a ring for him. Not knowing, as she did, the way he felt. A ring would have proclaimed to the world that he was a married man, and that was something he didn’t want to be.
“It matches your eyes.”
The memory of his words, of the way he’d looked at her as he slipped the ring on her finger, caused a fluttering sensation in her stomach.
Would a man who felt nothing for his bride have noticed that the stone was the same color as her eyes? Wasn’t there a chance—even just a glimmer of a chance—that Joe acted out of more than mere kindness? Wasn’t there a chance it was more than concern for her grandfather that caused him to marry her instead of letting her tell the truth?
Hope came surging back. Perhaps without reason. Perhaps without wisdom. But there it was—hope.
“I’ve got three weeks,” she told her reflection. “Three weeks before Grandpa leaves. I’m not going to waste them feeling sorry for myself.”
Joe was beginning to worry. Alicia had been in the ladies’ room a long time. Maybe he should check on her. She’d looked kind of pale when she left the table. Maybe she was sick. Or maybe she’d passed out. Women did that sometimes when they were pregnant; he’d read that the other day when he was on the Internet. Maybe she was lying unconscious on the bathroom floor.
Bundle of Joy Page 9
