by Liz Ireland
“Ah. The in-laws. That sounds fun. But, wait. There’re a few things I need to know first.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Like when exactly we were married. So I don’t say one day and you another. And where we got married. Things like that.”
Jayde clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Ohmigosh, I forgot all about stuff like that. And I did tell them all that on the phone the other day.” She then began chewing thoughtfully on a nail. “What did I say? Wait a minute…I’ve got it. We were married in Las Vegas. As for when…well, I don’t exactly remember. Let me see.” She mentally counted back, through the events of the past week. “Let’s see. Kansas City. Homestead Insurance. Lost my job. It was snowing. Okay, the fifteenth. Had to get here. The sixteenth. Today is the nineteenth. But we need time to have gotten married. And for the honeymoon. Then the travel time here. So, before the fifteenth.”
“Don’t forget to carry the one.”
Jayde frowned at…her husband. “What?”
“You sound like you’re doing math.”
“I am. Sort of.” She didn’t like his amused expression and she pursed her lips to let him know, too. “All right, the tenth, if you must know. Well, I guess you must since you were supposed to have been there, too.”
“Okay. The tenth, it is. And you told them Las Vegas?” Now he just looked downright pleased with her inventiveness.
Jayde shrugged, as if to convey Go figure. “Yeah. It sounded like the most—” she bit back her last word…romantic.
He didn’t seem to notice as he nodded his approval. “Vegas. Classy. Did I kiss the bride?”
“What? Oh, I’m sure you did. I mean, you have.” Her face instantly heated up. She looked away. “Maybe we should go downstairs now.”
“Okay. But first, since you gave us a honeymoon—which I’m sure we thoroughly enjoyed—where was it?”
Refusing to acknowledge that he’d embarrassed her with that we-thoroughly-enjoyed-our-honeymoon remark of his, Jayde put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. You choose.”
“Really? Okay.” Brad managed to look pleased to be involved. A moment or two ticked by before he pointed at her. “I’ve got it. Australia. This is their summer there. That would be nice.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Jayde couldn’t believe this. “Brad, I don’t know the first thing about Australia. What if my parents ask me about it?”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her, gripping her arm as he walked her toward the opened door to his bedroom. “I’ll just tell them we spent most of our time in bed.”
SO, THERE THEY ALL WERE, seated around the formal dining room’s massive rectangular table, trying to see each other through the exotic flower arrangement at its center. In attendance were Jayde, Brad, Maxine Greene, Floyd Greene, a very surprised to have been asked but not going to miss this for anything Lyle and JOCK…more of a presence, of course, than an actual body at the table.
Now Jayde understood why Brad kept Mrs. Chavez on a retainer and available to him alone. Lyle had called her and she’d come over right away—white jacket, chef’s hat, and all—to cook a fabulous dinner for them. By 8:00 p.m.—darned near bedtime, Jayde’s father had protested—they were seated and dining on a delectable seafood chowder, followed by a salad of baby greens topped with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing, shrimp sautéed in garlic and white wine, tender asparagus with Hollandaise sauce, and, finally, homemade Key Lime pie and coffee.
After dinner, over a dessert wine, there was plenty of small talk until, apparently caught up in the spirit of the thing, if not the wine he’d consumed, Lyle blurted, “You know, I said the minute I saw these two together that they were meant for each other.”
“You did?” Brad sounded surprised.
“He did,” Jayde tipsily agreed, drawing Brad’s gaze her way. “He did,” she reassured him. “I thought so too,” she added for good measure.
“You did?” Brad asked.
The room began to get warm. Jayde cut her gaze from Brad to her parents and back to Brad. “Of course I am…honey. That’s why we got married. Remember?”
“Well, I’ll be, Floyd,” Jayde’s mother said. “Did you hear that? Our Jayde found love at first sight.”
“Well, not exactly first sight, Mother.”
“No?” Floyd asked. “So, how did you two kids meet?”
That did it. Everyone froze. Jayde stared wide-eyed at her tall, angular father. Dear God, the one thing Brad and I didn’t discuss. She put a hand to her forehead and tried to pretend she wasn’t here. What had she told them on the phone the other day? Or had she even mentioned it? She couldn’t remember. But obviously, neither could they, or Dad wouldn’t be asking, right?
“Did I tell you we went to Australia on our honeymoon?” Brad gamely asked. Jayde looked up, at that moment loving him with all her heart for trying to come up with a diversion.
“I believe you did. Kangaroos. And wanna-bes.”
“That’s wallabies, Mrs. Greene.”
“Wallabies? You sure?”
“Don’t forget the Outback.”
“Oh, yes, wild place. Other side of the world.”
“It’s a fair distance from here.”
“Warm, too, this time of year.”
“Like Florida.”
“You told us about Australia, Brad. It sounds like a great place.” Jayde’s father, slouching comfortably in his padded chair, innocently skewered his daughter with a stare. “And here I didn’t even know you had a passport, daughter.”
Into the ensuing deathly silence, Lyle cleared his throat. “She had to get one when she applied at the employment agency last year.”
Jayde now sent Lyle the warmest, most heartfelt Thank you she could muster by virtue of subtle facial expression alone. Lyle winked at her and took a sip of his wine. Jayde reached for hers, too.
“You never did answer your father, Jayde, honey. How’d you and your young man meet?”
Jayde gulped down her wine. She’d forgotten, in the past year, what an absolute terrier-with-a-bone her mother was.
But, again…Jayde was saved—and by the most unlikely of sources: JOCK, who monitored, recorded and remembered all telephone conversations. “If you will allow me to speak, Mr. Hale?”
This time, Jayde’s parents froze. “Go ahead, JOCK,” Brad said. “Please, for the love of God, do.” To his credit, Brad didn’t sound half as desperate as Jayde knew he had to be.
“Thank you, sir. Three days ago, at 1:30 p.m., Mrs. Hale spoke with her parents by telephone and told them the true and charming little tale of how you two met at an art show in Kansas City. You’d taken an instant fancy to her work and then the two of you began talking. Of course, one thing led to another, and now, here we all are, as a happy result. Isn’t that a lovely and romantic story? One’s heart is so warmed by young love brought together in a gallery of modern art reminiscent of—”
“That’s enough, JOCK. Thank you.” Then in a whisper he said, “Don’t overplay your hand here.”
“As you wish, Mr. Hale,” came his holier-than-thou response. “I live to serve.”
“Oh, that reminds me, honey!” Maxine Greene said excitedly. “I’d almost forgotten about your gallery showing. That’s why we’re here. We’re just so proud of you. I never thought, not once over the years when I hung those paintings of yours all over the house, that one day my eldest would be a world-famous artist. Did we, Floyd?” Floyd managed to nod before Maxine carried on. “Now, when is it, baby? This weekend, right? Because we’ve got to get back to Aunt Wanda and the kids. They’re afraid she’ll take that medicine that makes her bloat. And you know how she gets.”
This weekend? Mental calculations told Jayde this was Wednesday. Impossible. Suddenly, she realized she couldn’t allow this charade to go on. It was getting way out of hand. She recovered and looked at her parents. They were such honest and simple people. They certainly deserved a better daughter than she was being. So with her heart in her throat, she stood up, carefully placing her lin
en napkin atop the table. Then she looked at everyone in turn and forced herself to speak slowly. “I can’t do this. I thought I could. But I can’t. I’m sorry. Mother, there’s not really a show—”
“Yes, there is,” Brad said, standing. He leaned forward, bracing his fingertips on the tabletop, as if he were commanding executives in a conference room. “You’ve forgotten, honey. It is this weekend. In that little gallery in Sarasota.” He turned to Jayde. “You’re just scared about the public seeing your work. It’s nerves, honey. Just nerves.”
Jayde cocked her head, staring at her husband. “I don’t like this.”
Brad’s blue eyes bored into hers another second. “But you will.” He then promptly turned to Lyle. “What’s the name of that gallery?”
Lyle stopped cold in the act of raising his wineglass to his lips. Without moving he cut his gaze around the table, obviously looking for help from any quarter. None was forthcoming. “Uh, that gallery.” He gestured encouragingly with his free hand. “You know. That one we like.”
JOCK intervened again. “Would that be the Carlyle Gallery on St. Armand’s Circle?”
“Yes! The Carlyle Gallery on St. Armand’s Circle!” Lyle yelled.
Startled, the Greenes clutched at each other.
Jayde was horrified. Her worst fear was that JOCK had made up the name. As in…chauffeur. Limo. Lyle. Car. Equals: Carlyle. What if there really wasn’t such a place? Then what?
As if he’d picked up on her fear, Brad leaned toward her. “You knew that, didn’t you, honey? Since the owner, my good friend, Dirk Halliburton, is the one who called you to set it up for…Sunday afternoon at two, right?”
So there really was a Carlyle Gallery and Brad knew the owner. Dear God, it was going to happen. Brad would see to it, she just knew he would. She felt sick. This very weekend, the world was going to be assaulted by her idea of art. She felt flushed…and weak…and clammy. The room grew dim. She clutched at the table’s edge. “Oh, no, I think I’m going to—”
9
JAYDE OPENED HER EYES. She tried to turn onto her side, but her weak limbs wouldn’t allow it.
“Thank God. She’s coming to. Don’t try to sit up just yet, baby. Take it slow, now,” her mother said. “Now, you men skedaddle and let me talk to my daughter.”
About then, Jayde became aware of something else—someone was holding her hand and patting it. Her mother, too? Of more concern to Jayde was that her surroundings were coming into focus—and they were only marginally familiar to her. The whole panorama before her seemed surreal. A vague fear settled over her. She clutched at the hand holding hers. “Mama? Where am I? What happened?”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m right here. You’re in your bedroom. Brad carried you up here, and you’re just fine. You fainted, that’s all. You remember that?”
Jayde stayed still, thinking. That’s right. She remembered now. The gallery showing this weekend. They’d all been in the dining room, and she had felt suddenly weak. And now, here she was in her—she looked around—not in her bedroom…but Brad’s. That explained the surreal part. And she was lying on the big four-poster bed, with her mother sitting on the side, holding her hand and telling her everything was okay. No. Everything is so not okay.
The resolve to come clean with her family overwhelmed Jayde. With her mother’s help, she struggled to a sitting position. “Mother, I have something to tell you.”
“You don’t have to, honey. Brad already told us.”
Jayde stared at her mother. Her mouth dried, she felt awful. Had she forever lost her family’s respect? “He did? He told you everything?”
Her mother nodded, smiling gently. She reached out to stroke Jayde’s cheek. Her work-worn hand comforted Jayde like nothing else could. “Yes, he did. And I can’t believe you’d be worried about how your daddy and I would take the news. Why, honey, don’t you know that we love you and couldn’t be happier for you?”
That threw her. “You couldn’t?”
“No, baby. We couldn’t. I mean, yes, it was a shock to us when Brad first told us. It took a minute because I certainly hadn’t thought you’d do such a thing.”
Shame for having lied to her parents had Jayde lowering her gaze to her hands folded together in her lap. “I’m so sorry, Mama. I’m so ashamed.”
“Oh, now, honey, don’t be. It’s not the end of the world,” her mother soothed. “These are modern times, and we’ve all got to keep up. Still, I don’t mind saying your daddy was a mite upset. But I told him all he had to do was look around here to see you’re sitting pretty now. And that’s all that matters in the end.”
That surreal feeling was back again. Was her mother saying all the lies Jayde had told were okay because it had worked out in the end? That didn’t sound like the mother she knew. Something was wrong here. Jayde narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Mother, what exactly are you talking about?”
“Why, about being grandparents, of course.”
Jayde thought things couldn’t get any more confusing. “Grandparents? Who?”
“Me and your father, honey. And that’s what I told him. It’s about time we were grandparents. And it doesn’t really matter to us which side of the marriage ceremony the baby was conceived on. We’ll love it just the same. What’s important is that you’re married to a good man who loves you and who you love. And there’s going to be a baby. You’ve done so well for yourself, Jayde.”
Jayde clutched her mother’s hands in her own and held them tightly. “Mother, look at me. What baby?”
Her mother’s eyes widened. She looked worried as her gaze roved over Jayde’s face. “Lord, I think we need to take you to the hospital for an X-ray. You must have hit your head on the table when you passed out.”
“I didn’t hit my head.” Jayde frowned. “At least I don’t think I did.” She thought for a moment. “No, I didn’t. But, I don’t understand, Mom—what baby are you talking about?”
“Yours, honey. Yours and Brad’s, of course.”
Jayde’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t believe this. “Oh…my…God.” Then she released her mother’s hands and tucked her hair behind her ears. Then smoothed her hands down her cheeks and bit at a knuckle. Then she grabbed her mother by the arms. “He told you we flew to Vegas and got married because I’m pregnant, didn’t he?”
“Oh, now, honey, don’t be mad. Brad is such a good man. He didn’t mean any harm. And he said you wanted to wait before you told us, since it was a surprise. But what choice did he have, what with you passed out like that and us so worried? He had to tell us the truth.”
“‘The truth?”’ she repeated. Jayde released her mother and began moving over to the side of the huge bed. “I’ll show him a choice he won’t soon forget.”
Her mother stood up and stopped Jayde. “Now, honey, you take it easy. You’re in a delicate condition.”
“MY MOTHER THINKS I’m in a delicate condition, Brad. A delicate condition, for crying out loud.”
Brad watched Jayde agitatedly pacing around his bedroom. Man, but she was beautiful. And, man, was he in trouble. Standing safely off to one side, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know they do, but what choice did I have?”
Jayde stopped abruptly and turned to him. The open French doors were at her back and the moonlight behind her made her silky dress all but transparent. Thus distracted, Brad had a hard time paying attention to her words.
“That’s what she said—what choice did you have? How about food poisoning?”
Brad shook his head. “And insult Mrs. Chavez? I don’t think so. Do you know how hard it is to get a good chef?”
Jayde stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “No, Brad, I don’t. The chef at our house was Mom. See, I come from a poor but honest family.”
“Uh-uh.” Brad advanced on her. “Don’t play that poor-but-honest card with me. It’s not a crime to be rich, Jayde. And it’s not my fault your family isn’t. And honesty? You’re not in much of a position to
talk about that. It wasn’t my lies that started this whole fiasco.”
“So now it’s a fiasco. That is so unfair. It wasn’t a fiasco earlier when you were giving me the pep talk about how we had to do this.”
“All right, so we both lied. How’s mine any worse than yours?”
She stared at him, making ineffectual gestures. “How’s it worse? I’ll tell you how it’s worse. I—” she poked herself in the chest with her index finger “—not you, but I have to produce, in a little over eight months’ time, a grandchild for those sweet folks downstairs asleep in one of your guest bedrooms.”
Brad exhaled, losing his anger. He was so tempted to touch her. But he didn’t dare. “Jayde, you’re overreacting. It’s not all that bad.”
Her eyes popped open. “Not all that bad?” She took off pacing again. “I do not believe this.” She strode off into the huge bathroom. Her voice echoed as she continued ranting. “Just tell me this.” She was silent a second. “Where are you?”
Sighing, Brad trailed after her and sat on the lowered toilet seat. “I’m right here. Now go on. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”
She stood in front of him. “I’m just wondering what to tell my parents about this grandbaby of theirs when I tell them later that we’re getting a divorce. That is what we decided, isn’t it?”
Brad scrubbed a hand over his jaw. She was right. He looked up at her, his expression apologetic. “I think I see your point now. Everything but a baby could have been explained away.”
“Exactly.” She stared hard at him for another second or so and then slumped into a sitting posture on the side of the tub. She sat forward and buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do, Brad? There’re only a few things that could have happened to a baby.” She suddenly sat bolt upright. “And I’m not willing to put them through any of those scenarios. They think this baby is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. And it doesn’t even exist. I have to tell them the truth. Tonight.”
Brad got up and went over to squat down in front of her. He gently rubbed his hands over the soft, smooth skin of her calves. “Let them sleep, Jayde. They’re exhausted. They’ve had a long day.” He grinned. “After all, meeting their new son-in-law had to be a little trying.”
