Whitney had decided to forgo any kind of head table, instead choosing to go with various large round tables. The tables had white table clothes with dusty-blue linens and gold accent pieces. The centerpieces were fern and eucalyptus. Elegant and classy through and through.
Noah and I joined Margo at table two as the festivities began.
Cheers erupted as Luca and Whitney walked out of the castle and onto the dance floor. Return to Love by Andrea Bocelli featuring Ellie Goulding began to play through the speakers, and Luca swept Whitney into his arms, and they began to glide across the floor.
“What?” I breathed, holding a hand to my chest as I stood up so I could see better. “Did they take lessons?”
I glanced over at Margo, who was grinning back at me, then looked back at the dance floor.
“They’re magnificent.”
When the song ended, Luca dipped Whitney, before bringing her back up to kiss her soundly. She threw her arms around his neck, and everyone started to clap.
“Oh my gosh,” I cried, looking at Noah, who was looking warmly down at me.
“You didn’t know?” he asked.
I shook my head and wiped under my eyes, hoping my mascara hadn’t run.
The excitement died down as everyone took their seats and dinner service began. Steak, fish, fingerling potatoes, and steamed vegetables were occasionally interrupted by the clinking of glasses, which Whit and Luca indulged with lots of kisses.
Once the dancing began, Noah turned to me and asked, “May I have this dance?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, placing my hand in his and letting him lead me onto the floor.
“Not quite a two-stepping song,” he said wryly as we began to move to the music.
“No, but this is nice, being in your arms,” I replied, looking up at him as I moved in even closer.
“Yeah,” he agreed, then pulled me in so I could rest my cheek against his chest and hug him tightly.
“This is wonderful,” I said with a sigh.
I loved how safe and secure I felt being in his arms.
“It is,” he murmured, the words rumbling against my cheek.
“Okay, move over. I’m cutting in,” I heard Margo say from behind me and realized the song had stopped and was transitioning into a new one.
“Me or him?” I asked her.
“I’m talking to Noah, you’re the one I wanna dance with,” she said, already starting to move to the more upbeat tune.
“Uh, yeah, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Noah said, leaving the dance floor as fast as his legs could take him.
I watched him with a smile.
“He’s more of a country line dancer,” I told Margo.
“I know,” she said, taking my hands. “Now, shake that ass.”
30
Noah
I took the tote bag with fresh chicken noodle soup, Sprite, crackers, and gummy bears out of my car, before locking it and making my way to Summer’s apartment.
It was a few weeks since the wedding and she’d come down with the flu a few days ago. I’d come by to check on her when I could, but since it was the end of the semester and my busiest time of year, I’d been staying at my place at night.
I felt terrible every time I left her because she looked so sick and sad. Totally un-Summer-like.
My mom had stopped by yesterday while I was at work to check on her, which really warmed my heart and kind of solidified the fact in my mind that Summer would make a great addition to our family.
It was something I’d been thinking about a lot lately, but with Summer getting sick, I hadn’t had a chance to do anything other than ponder it myself.
At her door, I shuffled everything into one hand so I could unlock the door with the spare key Summer had given me. We’d swapped keys a few days ago, and it was my first time using hers. But, as I started to push it open, I met resistance and it was slammed back in my face.
“What the heck?” I muttered, stumbling back before calling out, “Summer?”
“What do you want?” a harsh voice, one that was definitely not Summer, asked through the door.
“I’m here to see Summer. I brought her some items to help her feel better,” I said, feeling awkward shouting through metal.
The door opened a little and I looked down to see a weathered face staring back at me.
“Hello, uh, ma’am. I’m Noah, Summer’s boyfriend.” Boyfriend suddenly seemed like such a childish word, and not nearly meaningful enough. “I’m here to see her and give her some soup.” When she neither spoke or opened the door farther, I held up my hand and said, “I have a key.”
I heard a huff before the door opened slightly and she walked away.
I went in, looking around the space for Summer, but only saw the lady with the scowl.
“Is Summer in her room?” I asked, pointing toward the closed door.
“She’s sleeping and you’ll not wake her.”
O-kay.
I crossed to put the tote bag on the kitchen counter and said, “Like I said earlier, I’m Noah. And you are…?”
“I’m Adelaide, her mother,” she said, and then to my horror, lit a cigarette.
“Ma’am, I don’t think Summer would appreciate you smoking in here, especially since she’s feeling poorly.”
Adelaide snorted and muttered, “Well, look at the big balls on this one. Feeling poorly? My girl’s sick with the flu. And a sick girl wants her mother, not some bumbling giant in a jacket with patches on the sleeves. What’s this, the fifties?”
I blinked, confused over the fact that this woman had given birth to and raised Summer. It went against the laws of nature.
“You’ve dropped off your soup, so you can head on out now,” she said, when we simply stood there looking at one another.
“I’d really like to look in on Summer…”
“Look here,” she said with a scoff. “What my girl doesn’t need is another no-account man swooping in with talk of making her happy and giving her the world and then letting her down. You wouldn’t know it by looking at your outfit, but this ain’t the fifties anymore. Women don’t need some man to make them happy. In fact, all men ever seem to do is make us miserable. So, why don’t you and your no-good penis git.”
My no-good penis?
“Ma’am … Adelaide,” I began, hoping I could at least convince this dragon at the gate to let me pass long enough just to make sure Summer was okay in her room. Because with this woman on nursing duty, there was honestly no telling.
“Don’t you Adelaide me. I told you, Summer doesn’t want to see you and you need to go.”
“Summer never said…”
“Well, I’m sayin’ it. Get out before I call the cops.”
Is this woman for real?
From the expression on her face and the way she was tapping her foot, I was guessing she was. It occurred to me to simply run past her and push my way through the door, but that seemed like an odd and juvenile thing to do.
I’d simply leave and then call Summer to check on her. Then, once her mother was long gone, I’d come back and make sure she ate her soup.
“Okay, there’s no need to do anything hasty. I’ll go. Just tell Summer I was here.”
When she didn’t reply, I turned to leave, glancing one last time at the still-closed door.
I left without so much as a goodbye or nice to meet you, which would shame my mother since she’d raised me to be polite. But, since she also raised me to tell the truth, I figured she might understand.
Once I was back outside, I called Summer, hoping she’d answer and send her mother packing, but it went straight to voicemail.
As I jogged down the steps, I typed out a text, letting her know I’d been by, her soup was on the counter, and asking her to call when she was able.
When I was about to go to sleep and she still hadn’t called, I tried again, but had no luck.
It was the first time in weeks we hadn’t told each other I love you before going to
bed.
31
Summer
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I managed in between sobs.
Whitney and Margo were sitting on either side of me on my sofa. We were all in variations of sweats and T-shirts, and they had been listening to me cry for the last thirty minutes.
“Honey, why don’t you start at the beginning and tell us exactly what has been going on,” Whitney said, rubbing her palm over my back in a circular motion.
I worked on calming myself down so I could speak and actually be coherent this time.
“Late last week I began to feel sick. Nauseous at first, with a headache and some dizziness, and then I began throwing up. I couldn’t keep anything down for days …Noah was really sweet. Calling and checking on me and bringing me stuff, but I just felt so miserable, and nothing helped.”
“Okay, and then you said your mom came?” Margo prompted.
“Yeah, the harbinger of death herself,” I muttered, then immediately felt guilty. “No, that’s not fair. She came by to help me, although I certainly didn’t ask her to, but as usual, she made things worse. Not only by making a mess in my apartment and smoking inside, but she was here when Noah came over. I was asleep and didn’t even know.”
“Oh, Lord. How did that go?” Whit asked.
“According to her he came barging in and throwing his weight around, just like a man, and she ended up kicking him out.”
“That doesn’t sound like Noah.”
“Not at all,” Margo agreed. “What did Noah say?”
I gave her a sheepish look and said, “I don’t know, I haven’t actually talked to him since then.”
“What? Why not?” Whitney asked.
“Because I’m so embarrassed. I know how horrible my mother can be, why do you think I hadn’t introduced him to her yet. I was kinda hoping they’d never have to meet. He met Helen … that’s close enough.”
“Honey,” Whitney said, her voice full of censure. “Hasn’t he tried to get a hold of you?”
I nodded, wringing my hands together, and admitted, “Yes. He’s called and even texted a few times, even though he hates it.”
“And you’ve ignored him?”
“It’s only been two days,” I argued, even though I knew it was wrong. “I texted back and said I was feeling better, and I’d let him know when I was able to talk, but that’s it.”
“What else is going on, Summer?” Margo asked, giving me a look that said I’d better fess up or else.
I was also late.
I fell back against the couch and cried, “I think I’m pregnant.”
“And that’s why you’re hiding from Noah,” Margo surmised.
“Sweetheart, that’s wonderful. I know how much you want to have children,” Whitney said sweetly. “I know it’s not exactly the way you wanted it to happen, but I’m sure Noah will be thrilled as well. Don’t you think so?”
“I don’t know. Especially not right after meeting my mother. I mean, those genes will be in our child, he may not be so keen on that.”
“Stop it,” Margo said sharply. “It’s one thing to be scared to tell him, especially since you haven’t been feeling yourself and are hyper-emotional. But you do him, and yourself, a disservice, by talking that kind of nonsense.”
At her words, I started crying again. Mostly because I knew she was right, and partly because I hated that she was disappointed in me.
“Hey,” she said, making me blink up at her. “You owe me, remember? Big time.”
“For what?” Whitney asked.
“That speed dating thing. I said I’d take her place, but she’d owe me one. So, I’m calling in my favor. You’re going to stop crying, take a shower, and doll yourself up so you feel better. Then you’re going to go to Noah’s and talk to him. About your mom and about the possibility you may be pregnant. You’ll take a few tests with you, and you can find out together. It’s not something you should go through alone and Noah deserves to be a part of it if he wants to.”
“Oh, I forgot about that. How’d it go?” I asked.
Margo glared at me, and I shrank back against the couch.
“We can talk about that later. For now, you need to go get yourself cleaned up and call Noah.”
“I’m still feeling poorly,” I said, hoping to tap into her compassion.
“Eat a cracker,” was her reply.
Alrighty then.
I walked slowly to my room, like a dog with her tail tucked between her legs, and turned on the shower.
Once I was done and dressed, I could admit to myself that I felt better, but I wasn’t going to say so to Margo.
I walked out of my room to see them putting the last few things away and said, “Oh, you guys didn’t have to clean up.”
“Don’t worry about it, that’s what friends are for,” Margo said, getting herself right back into my good graces.
“Yeah, sweetie, you’ve had a rough week and we wanted to help you out at least a little,” Whit agreed.
“You guys really are the best,” I said, getting a little weepy again.
Dang. I’d always been a girl who cried easily, but this was getting ridiculous.
“Did you talk to Noah?” Margo asked.
“Yeah, just to see if I could come over to talk. He said, yes, of course, but he sounded a little guarded.” And I’d hated to hear it, especially knowing I’d made him feel that way.
“He’ll understand,” Whitney assured me. “And you better make sure you call us as soon as you know either way about being pregnant.”
“I promise.”
32
Noah
I was nervous.
After the run-in with Summer’s mother and then her pretty much going radio silent on me for days, I was feeling unsure of where I stood in this relationship.
Which was concerning, considering the direction my thoughts had been heading in terms of us.
I grabbed a bongo off one of my shelves and sat down to start beating on it, which was something I often did when I was nervous or needed to clear my head. I had no idea the proper way to play it, but it helped for some reason.
It had just started working when I heard Summer’s key in the door, and a few seconds later, the sound of it shutting behind her. Suddenly, the nerves were back full force.
But when she walked into the living room, pale and looking extremely distraught, I forgot about myself and moved quickly to her.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, placing my hands on her shoulders and surveying her face.
She looked exhausted and seconds away from weeping.
“I’ve been better,” she replied, attempting levity, and failing. “Can we sit?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, ushering her toward the couch. “Can I get you anything? Water … Sprite?”
“Some water would be good.”
Once I’d grabbed her water, I sat beside her on the sofa and waited for her to speak her mind.
“So, I heard you met my mother,” Summer began, her eyes wary.
“I did.” I didn’t want to be rude or disparage her mother, but I wouldn’t lie to her either. “I have to say, she wasn’t a big fan.”
Summer snorted and said, “I’m sure that’s an understatement. I’m so sorry you had to meet her that way … before I got a chance to prepare you and give you insight as to who you’d be dealing with. I told you a little about her already, but I’m sure you still weren’t expecting to be met with what I’m sure was great animosity.”
“I’m sure she was simply trying to take care of you and protect you,” I said, giving her the benefit of the doubt. She was Summer’s mother, after all, so she couldn’t be all bad.
“That’s sweet, but when it comes to my mother, her thoughts and actions are usually selfish. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but, unfortunately, it’s the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what else I could say. “But besides that, how have you been? You haven’t s
aid much the last few days … I wanted to come by and check on you.”
“I know … and I hate that I kept you waiting and probably made you feel confused. I mean, she was terrible to me, and I was the one she was supposed to be taking care of; I can only imagine the things she said to you. I wish I’d been awake and knew you were there, so we could have avoided most of it.”
“It’s fine. I’m not in love with your mother,” I assured her, watching her intently for any indication her feelings had changed.
Summer swallowed and seemed to get paler.
“Do you have any crackers? I’m still a bit nauseous.”
“Oh, uh, let me go check. I’m sure I have something.”
I hurried into the kitchen and checked the pantry, shouting out, “Got some,” before grabbing the box and taking them to her.
“Here you go,” I said, handing her a sleeve of Saltines. “Have you been to the doctor?”
She shook her head slightly and said, “I couldn’t get an appointment until tomorrow.”
“What time? Would you like me to take you?” I offered, wanting to help her in any way I could.
I hoped I could convince her to stay with me tonight, so I could take care of her. I’d hated being away from her the last few days, knowing she was feeling poorly and hopeless to do anything about it.
“Actually, that would be great. The appointment is at eight in the morning,” she said, her lips curving up for the first time since she’d entered the house.
Relief flooded me.
“Noah, there’s something else I need to discuss with you,” she said, her eyes intent on mine. “I don’t want you to freak out, because I don’t even know anything for sure yet, but my gut is literally telling me it’s a strong possibility.”
“What is it?” I asked, taking her hand in mine to try and ease some of her distress.
“Well, in addition to the nausea, vomiting, headaches, fatigue, and light-headedness … I’m late.”
Trophy Wife Page 11
