Authors: Fiona Lowe
“Earth to Amy?” He laughed and waved his hand in front of her eyes. “I can see you’re already imagining yourself in the job.”
“Right,” she said faintly. Only he was wrong. She wasn’t imagining herself in the job at all and that was the problem.
* * *
When Melissa opened the door to Amy’s insistent knock, wearing a half-buttoned wedding gown, she knew she looked like the bride of Frankenstein. “Thanks for coming over so fast.”
Amy stared at her. “You have rivers of mascara running down your face. What’s happened?”
“Come in.” She stood back while Amy crossed the threshold and then locked the boutique’s door behind her before walking directly to the bridal fitting room.
“Would you like me to do up the buttons on your gown?” Amy asked with a look of unease mixed in with concern.
She nodded. “Thanks, that would be great, and then I want you to put on a dress to keep me company.”
“Sure.” Amy didn’t say anything until she’d finished doing up the long line of buttons that wound from the base of Melissa’s spine to her neck. “I think I’ll try on the ombré tulle. I love the color. It’s not ivory but it’s not quite apricot either and I could just drown in the fullness of the skirt.”
Melissa unzipped the dress bag. “Good choice. I think it will really suit you, unlike white, which is too stark for you and drains the color from your face.”
Amy stepped into the gown. “A bit like you today.”
A
bit like me for days.
She zipped the gown closed against Amy’s back and then picked up a bottle of champagne. With a wrench of desperation, she twisted at the cork.
“I think I better do that,” Amy said, quickly taking the bottle out of her hands. “You don’t want to risk spilling any on that amazing gown.”
She was past caring about anything but she automatically nodded her thanks. A few moments later, she accepted the proffered glass of the sparkling, straw-colored liquid and took a long gulp.
“No toast today?” Amy asked.
She shook her head. “Scott proposed.”
Amy blinked, her gray eyes round with surprise. “And I’m guessing you don’t think that’s a good thing?”
The lump that had taken up residence in her chest doubled in weight. “It’s the worst possible thing that could have happened and now he hates me.”
Amy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “So why are we wearing wedding gowns?”
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. “Because usually this cheers me up and I desperately need something to do that.”
Amy fingered the glorious tulle in the skirt of her gown and her face filled with the wonder that usually rushed Melissa. A wonder she’d been seeking for three days but it had utterly vanished.
“Is it working?” Amy asked.
“Not so much.” She drained the rest of her glass, hoping the bubbles would take the alcohol quickly into her veins to numb the pain.
Amy set down her glass. “When did he propose?”
She sighed. “A few days ago.”
“And you had no clue?”
She smiled wryly at Amy’s amazed tone. “Not even a hint. Things had been going great. We’d been having so much fun together and then he went and ruined everything by telling me he loves me,” her voice rose in a wail she couldn’t stop, “and then proposing.”
Amy got an odd look on her face—one that said a proposal was something wonderful and special and then it collided with an expression that lacked comprehension. “Exactly how is Scott telling you he loves you, ruining things?”
“Because I want to be friends and he doesn’t.” She pulled at her hair, welcoming the discomfort. “I mean, we weren’t even supposed to be friends. We agreed it was just about the sex.”
This time Amy picked up her glass and drained it with an abrupt gulp. “So what changed?”
“I don’t know.” She’d been asking herself the same question over and over. “I guess we started talking and then he asked me for help with Lily’s party. I met Lily and it just seemed so normal to be hanging out together, doing stuff. Lily’s gorgeous and Scott’s...Scott. He’s calm and steady, which should be as boring as grass growing but somehow it isn’t.”
“It all sounds...great?” Amy asked uncertainly.
“It was.” She picked at the Viennese lace of the gown thinking about the time they’d ridden the pumpkin train. “It was easy and I could be myself with him because there was no pressure.”
Two deep lines appeared at the top of Amy’s nose. “As opposed to...?”
She gave a long, shuddering sigh. “You know how stressful it is during those first few dates when you’re trying to work out if the guy is
the one
or just a douche bag or married even.”
“I know all about douche bags.”
Something about Amy’s tone made her look up and she caught her friend pursing her lips. “Sorry, Amy. Guys can be such pricks. If it helps any, I’ve had more than my fair share of them too, which is why I made a decision at New Year’s to be very selective about who I dated but even then, the whole scene is exhausting. With Scott, there was none of that.”
“Because you weren’t dating?”
“Exactly.”
Amy tilted her head, her curls bouncing and her gaze clear. “Remind me again why you didn’t want to date him?”
She took another sip of champagne and wondered how to explain it. “I watched my older sister get involved with a divorced guy. We were all worried about it but she was in love and convinced they could make it work. Neither of them had great jobs and the child support he paid for his kids from his first marriage left him and Ellen struggling financially, not to mention the emotional tornadoes his ex-wife caused every few months. When Ellen gave up work to have their baby things went from bad to worse.
“His past got all tangled up in their present and it ended up so ugly. Now she’s raising her kid on her own and it’s hard. Really hard. My parents help out and I do too but she’s bitter and old before her time. I don’t want that sort of struggle. I want what my parents have. I want a comfortable life and Ellen’s taught me that sometimes love just isn’t enough.”
Amy sat up a bit straighter, suddenly looking very much like a lawyer. “But Scott has full custody of Lily, right?”
“He does.” She sniffed, holding back tears. “He gave up his solo music career to raise Lily when her mother walked out on them.”
Amy drummed her fingers as if it helped her think. “That means it’s unlikely he’s paying his ex-wife any alimony. You know, Melissa, he sounds like a really special guy.”
“He is,” she said softly, tears falling fast. “I know at first he seems really serious and quiet but he’s not once you get to know him. He’s got a dry sense of humor and he makes me laugh. Or he did. I keep going to tell him something funny that happened at work, or I see something I think Lily would like and I go to buy it and then I remember. It’s over.”
She gulped in a breath. “He ruined everything. I hate that I miss him so much. It’s like I’ve got this big ol’ empty hole inside of me and I hate him for putting it there.”
Amy refilled their glasses and gave her a long, thoughtful stare. “Melissa, I don’t have much experience with relationships, but I wonder if you’ve fallen in love with him.”
“No,” she said sharply as her heart rolled over and she clung desperately to everything she believed. “That isn’t possible. I know what I want in a man. I’ve known it ever since Ellen and Vince imploded and it’s been reinforced by watching my sister living with the fallout of that disastrous marriage.”
Amy’s gray eyes filled with sympathy. “I can see why you’d make a list of ideal characteristics in a man but it’s academic, not real. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this past month, it’s that life is messy and confusing.”
My life is messy.
“Which is exactly why I have my list,” she said, her voice taking on a slightly hysterical edge. “I don’t want to start my married life with someone else’s baggage that will make everything difficult.”
“Do you mean Lily?”
Horror streaked through her. “No, I don’t mean Lily. She’s not baggage. She’s a child with a disability.”
Amy shrugged. “Some people would say that’s a huge amount of baggage. All that therapy, the fact she may need support her whole life depending on how capable she becomes. It’s pretty messy. And what about other children? Are you worried if you have a child with Scott it might be disabled?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Doesn’t everyone worry about that to a degree?” She rubbed her face with her palms, hating the whole situation. “I think he’s worried about having another special-needs child because he wouldn’t commit to having another child and that’s huge. I’m desperate to have a baby and I’m fast running out of time to have one.”
Amy nailed her with a steely look. “How many guys have you ever met that fit your criteria?”
She dropped her gaze, not wanting to answer that question.
“Melissa, I need an answer.”
Irritation flared. “Man, I forgot you were a lawyer.”
Amy gave a wry smile. “So?”
She sipped her drink, letting the bubbles float on her tongue, wishing she could avoid the stark truth, but she couldn’t. “None.”
“The problem with imaginary people is they behave exactly as we want them to.”
“There’s no harm in having standards,” she said, annoyed that Amy wasn’t siding with her and scared to death by rising panic. Had she fallen truly and deeply in love with Scott? Is this why she was more miserable than she’d ever been in her life?
Amy’s expression was neutral. “Let’s look at the facts. On one hand you have a guy who’s your friend and your lover, a guy who makes you laugh and is a giving and dedicated father—and he wants to spend his life with you. Yes, he’s a bit short on cash right now but he’s working in a family business, he’s building his music school and, who knows, he might even be able to teach in the Whitetail school district one day. Plus, he isn’t paying alimony and unlike your sister, you’ve your own business which is doing okay so financially it’s a totally different ball game. Would you agree?”
“Yes, but...”
“No buts, Melissa,” Amy said, her voice firm and brooking no arguments. She picked up the ombré tulle and let it slide through her fingers. “On the other hand you have an unknown guy who’s a bit like this dress—beautiful, worth a lot of money but untested by how it will survive what the day may throw at it. Like the permanent marker stain on Brianna’s dress, which didn’t even make it across the first hurdle. Who knows how the unknown guy will cope with what life might throw at both of you.”
There’s no such thing as perfect.
Scott’s words sounded loud and harsh in her head. She thought about Scott. He’d given up so much for Lily, including his dream job, and yet he didn’t seem bitter. He was calm and caring and had a sort of peace with his life. Something she didn’t come close to having. Did she have her priorities all tangled up? Was it wrong to want to start a relationship without the fear that the past would intrude? “It’s not that simple.”
“I know.” Amy squeezed her hand. “But life isn’t. My parents had a shotgun wedding and were married at eighteen and twenty. Statistically, it shouldn’t have worked. They made it work. Sure, we never had a lot of money but we weren’t dirt-poor either.”
For weeks she’d been the happiest she could remember and for the past few days she’d been desperately sad. Was this love? Feeling like a part of her had been ripped out of her chest.
“I always thought falling in love was supposed to be a happy time.” Tears cascaded and her chest heaved with great, hulking sobs. “Oh, Amy, I love him so much but what if he doesn’t want to have a child? I think my heart will break.”
“Go talk to him,” Amy said simply.
And that scared her to death.
Chapter Twenty
Scott’s phone buzzed with a text and his eyes shot open. The green display on his nightstand clock read 11:50. He’d been asleep for a total of twelve minutes.
Great.
Still, it was about eight minutes longer than he’d managed over the past few nights.
Fumbling for his glasses, he slid them up his nose and the text script came into focus.
Am outside.
Can we talk?
Melissa.
It had been four days since he’d slammed the door shut in her face. Four long days of deafening silence that had stretched out between them after weeks of daily talks and texts. When Margaret had left him, it had been a shock but in so many other ways it had been a relief. With Melissa, it was different. She’d pulverized his heart and he’d never felt more sad or lonely.
He hated that. He hated her for that. He was an idiot for having allowed himself to fall in love with her. He’d known what she was like from the first time he’d met her—self-absorbed and fixated on the superficial.
You wouldn’t have fallen in love with her if she was really like that.
Shut up.
He heard a soft tapping on his window and then his phone beeped again.
Please
,
Scott.
Most of him wanted to ignore her request because he wasn’t certain there was anything left to say. She’d made herself very clear on the many and varied reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her. But the word
please
snagged him. The plea was out of character. Feeling that he was going to regret it, he texted,
go to front door.
He swung his legs to the floor and padded out to greet her, begrudgingly acknowledging she hadn’t run the doorbell and woken up Lily.
He pulled open the door and felt his jaw drop. She stood on his mat, her face illuminated by the yellow porch light. Her normally sleek bob of hair was in disarray, mascara smudged her eyes and she looked uncharacteristically unkempt, but it was the perfectly fitted, incredibly intricate, lace wedding gown that made his breath stall in his chest. It fitted like a glove, highlighting her curves—curves he knew by heart and desperately missed.
You’re pissed as hell
,
remember.
“Did I miss the invitation to the costume party? What are you, the bride from hell?”
“Probably.”
Her unexpected agreement took the wind out of him.
“I’m freezing,” she said, sounding more like herself. “Can we talk inside?” Clutching a fistful of papers in one hand, she lifted the skirt of the dress and the train with the other and moved forward.
He stood back, allowing her to enter and as she brushed past him, the lace of the dress ran over his bare feet. For something that looked so beautiful, it was oddly scratchy and rough. She stood in the center of the room, the material of the dress filling the small space, and she licked her lipstick-free lips as if now that she’d made it inside, she didn’t quite know where to start.
“Why are you wearing that dress?”
She dropped her gaze and then lifted it to him, embarrassment shining in her eyes. “When I have a bad day, I have a habit of trying on wedding dresses.”
He didn’t quite know what to say to that. “I guess it’s healthier than getting drunk.”
“I don’t think I can kid myself anymore that it is.” She sat down abruptly and was immediately surrounded by a sea of lace. “You see, I’m addicted to this dress.”
An aura of vulnerability circled her, calling to him and he quickly reminded himself the she’d rejected him, finding his offer of love and commitment lacking. Finding him lacking. He hardened his heart. “I’m sure there’s a twelve-step program somewhere for you, but I can’t help.”
She swayed as if he’d hit her. “Scott, I want to explain.”
“I think you did a pretty good job explaining when you were last here. I’m not good enough for you. I’d be the thrift-shop purchase in your designer life. I get it. You can leave now.”
She lifted her chin with the determined jerk he knew well and then sucked in a breath. “No thank you.”
He sighed wearily. “It’s not a choice, Melissa.”
She didn’t move to stand. Instead she pushed at the lank strands of hair that stuck to her cheek. “It’s an allegory.”
Don’t engage.
But he opened his mouth anyway. “What is?”
What the hell are you doing?
“The dress.” Her empty hand fingered the intricate lace. “I bought it in January as the talisman for my year. I figured that if I had the dress, then I’d meet the guy I’d marry.”
Incredulity dumped on him. “I thought you were an intelligent woman. Life isn’t a fairy tale, Melissa.”
She opened her palms in her lap as if she was accepting the criticism. “I know it sounds idiotic and it is and me explaining it will probably only make it sound even more stupid but I’m thirty-four, Scott. I’ve got a body clock that ticks so loud it’s like the roar of a jet engine and on New Year’s Day, I decided this would be the year I would silence that sound and replace it with the gurgles and cries of a baby. I just didn’t realize that along the way I’d be so focused on what I wanted that I’d lose my perspective and, worse still, throw away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Hope soared and he tried to temper it. Sitting down on the coffee table he faced her, trying to read her. “What are you saying?”
“I love you, Scott.”
He badly wanted to trust her. He ached to, but self-preservation held him back. “It’s not easy to believe you after everything you said.”
She bit her lip and heartache filled her face. “I know and I’m so, so sorry. Sorry for what I said and sorry for being so blind. You were right. I had this idea of what I wanted for my life and because you’re very different from any guy I’ve ever been with everything snuck up on me. I...I didn’t recognize that what I was feeling for you was love.”
His heart hammered hard and fast, desperate to have faith that she loved him and he leaned forward, his knees and feet tangling in the lace. “So what’s changed? How do you know it’s love?”
Her bluer-than-blue eyes filled with tears. “These last four days have been awful. I’ve missed you and Lily so much.”
“Thank God.” He picked up her hand and kissed it, feeling like he’d been raced to the top of the tower ride and filled with elation.
She tugged her hand away, fisting it in her lap.
The ride dropped him fast and wariness pressed in on him like lead weights. “What?”
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. “Loving you both scares me rigid.”
A long sigh shuddered out of him. “You’re scared of being Lily’s mom?”
“No.” She shook her head violently and grabbed his hands. “It’s not Lily. Please hear me on this. I love her and I know we’ll probably have some heartbreak along the way as we get her to adulthood and beyond, but that doesn’t scare me.”
He saw her love for him and for Lily in her eyes and bewilderment tangoed with frustration. “So what scares you? Tell me, because it can’t be worse than what I’m already imagining.”
“I love you, Scott, and I know I almost lost you by obsessing about things being perfect. That was dumb and I can compromise on a lot of things but I can’t compromise on a baby.” Her voice cracked. “I want us to have a child together. I want Lily to have the joy and frustration of a sibling. We love each other but that’s the easy bit, right?”
The reality of her words dripped fear through him and he rubbed his face with his hands before raising his gaze again to hers. “I’ve been on my own for so long that until the other day I’d never given any thought to having another child. I love Lily but I’d be lying if I said I’d be happy to have another special-needs child.”
Understanding flowed from her and she pressed the papers she’d been holding on to against his lap. “I know it freaks you out and part of it freaked me out too, so I’ve done some research.”
Surprise slugged him. “Research?”
“Yes. Knowledge is power,” she said quietly as she rifled through the pages. “Listen to this.” She commenced reading. “‘Most cases of Down syndrome are not inherited and the chromosomal abnormality occurs as a random event. The abnormality usually occurs in egg cells and very occasionally in sperm.’” She looked up. “In other words, if you were having another child with Margaret the risk of having another child with Down syndrome would be a lot higher. With us, the risk’s not as high, although the longer we wait, the higher it rises, but it’s relatively flat until I turn thirty-seven.”
His mouth dried as he forced himself to say, “And if the baby did have Down syndrome?”
“We’d be unlucky but we’d cope.” She slid her hand along his cheek. “I think we should talk to a doctor so we have all the facts.”
“And what if...” He ran his hand through his hair. “What if I was the ‘very occasionally’ reason Lily is how she is? You’re still willing to take that chance and have a baby with me?”
She smiled wanly. “Someone I respect and love once told me that life isn’t perfect. There’s a risk attached to everything, Scott, and I don’t see this as a big risk. If we’re unlucky, we’ll deal with it together. I’m not like Margaret. I want this baby. I ache for it.”
She reached out her hand. “I want you, Lily and our baby in my life. Will you take a risk on imperfect me and marry me?”
We’ll deal with it together.
I’m not like Margaret.
And he knew to his core that she wasn’t anything like his ex-wife. He’d known that within a couple of weeks of meeting her. She wanted to take this life journey with him and Lily and their yet-to-be-born children. A journey with pitfalls and imperfections, and a whole lot of love. If she was brave enough to try then he’d be a fool to walk away from that.
He gazed at her with her smudged makeup and disheveled hair, surrounded by yards and yards of lace and she’d never looked so beautiful to him. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes. “I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.”
Melissa let go of the breath she’d been holding as equal parts relief and joy rushed her, making her dizzy. She’d been on tenterhooks for so long, completely uncertain of how he’d react to the idea of a baby and then to her proposal. She still couldn’t quite believe her ears. Despite everything, despite her foolishness, he wanted her. He wanted to take a leap of faith and have a child with her. Share Lily with her. She’d never felt so loved in all her life.
Needing to touch him, to reassure herself this was all real, she flung herself into his arms, her tears dampening his shoulders. “I thought you’d say no.”
He cupped her face in his palms and his gaze overflowed with love. “How could I say no to a bride?”
“No bride should ever look like this,” she said, wiping her face with a tissue. “I’m a complete mess.”
“You’re a beautiful mess.” He kissed her, infusing her with his love and hope for a future neither of them could predict.
A future they’d deal with together. A future she couldn’t wait to start.
As his mouth roved over hers, his hands traversed her back and then her front before settling on her waist. “This dress is a fortress. How the hell do I get to you?”
She laughed. “There are forty-five buttons and a corset to undo.”
“Seriously? And this was your perfect dress?” he said, finding the hem.
“Well, I can see now that it might have a design fault.”
His hands lifted the skirt and his head disappeared as lace cascaded over her head.
His hands touched her thighs and his muffled voice said, “I think I’ve found a shortcut.”
“Can’t breathe,” she said, hitting him on the back while trying to claw at the lace so she could get some air. “The
Bugle
headline will be, Groom Suffocates Bride with Dress.”
He reappeared with a grin on his face. “Can’t have that.”
He swung her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. As he carefully undid each button, he whispered all the things he was going to do to her and when the dress finally fell in a puddle of lace at her feet, she was a puddle of need.
She pulled him down onto the bed, wrapping her legs around him and tilting her hips, reveling in the way he filled her body. When her orgasm hit she knew he filled her heart, her mind and her soul. She might have been slow to know the joy of the love of an amazing man, but it had been well worth the wait.
* * *
Amy had filled a yellow legal pad with as much information as she’d been able to find on Stokes and Bent, the company that was interviewing her next week. It wasn’t a Fortune 500 but it had a growing reputation as being innovative and as none of the other twenty-six companies had offered her an interview, she was taking this one. She needed this job.
Her phone beeped and she laughed at a photo Cindy had sent her, taken when they’d been playing Twister. Ben, keeping his right arm out of the action, had still managed to bend backward and balance himself over Heidi to win the game.
Men who play Twister with our family are worth keeping.
Ignore Daddy who thinks no guy is ever good enough.
Besides
,
Ben’s hot!
C
x
She sighed. She knew Ben was worth keeping but how did she keep a guy who didn’t want to be kept? She had no clue but ever since the night she’d spent with Melissa, she’d considered telling Ben she loved him. Only every time she got close to telling him, a nagging voice said,
what’s the point?
She had this new job and he had—What did he have? More solo traveling? For a guy who sought solitude he certainly wasn’t a loner. In social situations, he was always far more at ease than she.
Getting no joy from this line of thinking, she tried to come up with a list of possible interview questions that might be asked. She felt so out of practice. The past few years, she’d been the one doing the interviews and this felt like starting over. Her phone beeped again with a text.
If the law doesn’t work out
,
consider relationship counseling.
THANK YOU!
Engagement drinks at the Udder Bar tonight.
Hope you can come.
Melissa
&
Scott xx