Forgotten Honeymoon (8 page)

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.

#

Lars 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?

She wished she could remember. Had she
married him and slept with him just to spite Nigel?

She didn’t want to believe that, but if she
hadn’t, why had she asked for a divorce the next morning? Maybe it
would be better if she never remembered.

Oh, Lars
, she thought.
I want our
marriage to work. I don’t care how we got here, I don’t care why.
All that matters is here and now. I’m expecting your baby and I’ll
do everything I can to be a good wife.

Lars smiled at her.

Kelly suddenly realized that the entire
church was quiet. Everyone was anxiously waiting for her to say
something. “I do?” she said tentatively, wondering if it was time
to say that. The minister smiled, and went on with the service.

In another minute, the minister was saying,
“You may kiss the bride.”

Lars lifted her veil, leaned down and kissed
her.

Yes
, she thought, reveling in the
sturdy strength of him.
Together we’ll make this marriage
work.

Then, too soon, the kiss was over and her
mother was hugging her and crying. Her father shook Lars’ hand and
pounded his back with a hearty, “Welcome to the family, son.”

Photographs seemed to take forever, then it
was time for the dinner and reception. Kelly clutched Lars’ hand
under the tablecloth, where it couldn’t be seen. “How are you
doing?” she asked.