"Roads! He's fixin' to get married when he's just come off a two-year drinking binge brought on by the death of his wife, and he's worried about roads?"
"That's my point," she said, her voice cracking emotionally. "I don't think he knows what he's doing."
Pat pulled a large, calloused hand down his face. It was a full face, rather ruddy, but he was considered nice looking. He still had a full head of hair, though it was as much gray as brown.
Dozens of women in Milton Point had pined for him through the years. He had dated a few off and on, but the nature of his work and the commitment it demanded had kept him a bachelor. He had more or less adopted the
Tyler kids as his own. That's why he shared
Laurie's concern for Chase now. He remembered the extent of the young man's suffering when his wife had been killed.
"You want me to talk to him, Laurie?"
"It wouldn't do any good," she said sorrow
fully. "Lucky tried talking sense to him this morning. Lucky said the more he argued the reasons against Chase's marrying right now, the more stubborn Chase became that it was the right thing for him to do.
"Naturally Sage had several firm opinions on the subject when I told her. I had to threaten her to within an inch of her life if she said anything to him. Lord only knows what she would spout off.
"Nobody is taken with the idea, but I don't want this to cause a rift in the family when we've just gotten Chase back. He might close doors on us that would never be opened again."
Tears began to shimmer in her eyes.
Pat reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "I didn't realize Chase knew Ms. Johns that well."
Laurie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
"They were classmates. They didn't see each other after high school graduation because her parents moved to Houston. She and Chase didn't become reacquainted until Tanya started house hunting right before she was killed.
"Don't get me wrong, Pat. It's not Marcie I
object to. I think she's perfectly charming.
She's turned into a beautiful woman and she's always been smart as a whip." Her pretty face drew into a frown. "That's why I can't understand why she would let herself in for this."
"You lost me on that one."
"Well, according to Lucky, who called right
after I spoke with Chase, Marcie asked him to marry her, not the other way around."
"You don't say."
Laurie recounted to Pat everything that
Lucky had told her.
"He's marrying her for the money," Pat observed when she was done. "He's doing it to save Tyler Drilling."
"So it seems. That's why I'm so upset.
Whether consciously or not, Bud and I instilled that sense of responsibility into Chase.
He takes everything to heart, assumes everybody's burdens."
"That's usual for an oldest child, Laurie."
"I know, but Chase takes it to the extreme.
After Tanya was killed, he blamed himself for not going with her that afternoon, believing that if he had been there, she wouldn't have died."
That's crazy.
"Yes, but that's the way he is. He takes everyone's problems onto himself. He probably feels guilty for abdicating his business responsibilities over the last eighteen months.
This is his way of making up for that. I had hoped his coming home would mark a new beginning. I didn't count on its taking this form.
"He's committing himself to years of unhappiness in order to save Tyler Drilling. And he's sentencing Marcie to misery, too. I can't imagine what her motivation is. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Chase is still
in love with Tanya. Just like with Bud and me. I didn't stop loving him when he died."
Unobtrusively, Pat withdrew his hand from hers. He sat quietly and let her cry for a moment before asking, "What do you want me to do, Laurie?"
She raised her head and gave him a watery smile. "What you're doing. Listening. I needed to talk to somebody. Devon hasn't been feeling well lately—something else that's worrying me. Lucky loses his temper, gets mad, and stamps around cursing under his breath and ramming his fist into his palm. Sage talks off the top of her head and says things that only cause me more distress. I needed someone solid like you to listen."
Smiling ruefully, Pat rubbed his hand over his slight paunch. "That's me. Solid. Glad to be of service though. You know I promised
Bud before he died to look after his kids. I've a good mind to yank Chase up by the collar and after I've shaken some sense into him, give him a good thrashing. If for no other reason than for putting you through hell all these months."
"He'd probably thrash you back." She gave a shaky little sigh. "They're not children anymore, Pat. They're grown-ups. They make their own decisions, and there's little or nothing I can do about it, even when I think they're making a terrible mistake."
Her tenuous smile gradually receded as she gazed into her dear friend's face. "Oh, Pat, what can Chase possibly be thinking to do this?"
Waiting outside Judge Walker's chambers,
Chase was wondering what he could possibly be thinking to do this.
The last two days had been so hectic he hadn't really had time to let the reality sink in. Perhaps he had subconsciously made things hectic so he wouldn't have to dwell on it.
Marcie had received his decision with more equanimity than he had anticipated. Shortly after his dispute with Lucky, he had gone to
Marcie's real estate office. Esme, wearing a solid green dress with purple tights, announced him. Marcie was in her inner office, thumbing through the biweekly multiple-listings book.
As soon as Esme had withdrawn he said, "I
think you had a good idea last night, Marcie.
Let's get married."
He hadn't expected her to throw her arms around him, cover his face with ardent kisses, and blubber thank-yous through her streaming tears. He hadn't expected her to prostrate herself at his feet and pledge undying fealty.
But he had expected a little more enthusiasm than a handshake.
"Before we shake on it," he had said, "I
have one stipulation." She seemed to catch her breath quickly and hold it, but he might have imagined that because her face remained calm. "I will pay back every cent you put into Tyler Drilling."
"That's not necessary."
"It is to me. And it is to this marriage's taking place. If you can't agree to that, the deal's off. It might take me years to do it, but you'll get your money back."
"It will be our money, Chase, but if that's the way you feel about it, that's how it will be."
They had sealed the agreement with a very unromantic, businesslike handshake. From there, things had snowballed. They notified their families and cleared the date on the judge's calendar.
Although it could have been postponed to a more convenient time, Chase vacated the apartment where he had lived with Tanya from the day they were married. A few weeks after her death, her family had come in and disposed of the things he hadn't wanted to keep, so he was spared having to deal with that.
It hadn't taken long for him to pack his belongings and move them to Marcie's house.
In effect, moving had sealed off his escape hatch—the reason, perhaps, why he had done it. There was no backing out.
There was one awkward moment during the move.
"This is my bedroom," Marcie had told him as she opened the door to a large, cozy room.
The wall behind the bed was covered with fabric that matched the bedspread and drapes.
A chaise lounge in the corner was also upholstered in a complementary fabric. Her bed room wasn't as starkly contemporary as the rest of the house's decor. It was feminine without being cloying and fussy, a pleasant mix of warmth and spaciousness.
His gaze moved to the bed, and he instantly felt uncomfortable. "Where's my bedroom?"
"There."
She had pointed toward a closed door on the opposite side of the gallery. It was into that room that Chase moved his belongings.
Marcie hadn't extended him a specific invitation to share her room. He was relieved. He was spared having to tell her no.
Ever since Lucky had mentioned sleeping with her, Chase had given it a great deal of thought. She hadn't come right out and said it, but she obviously expected them to have a sexual relationship. At first he couldn't imagine writhing naked with Goosey Johns, but once he got used to the idea, he reasoned that it wouldn't be all that bad.
She was an attractive woman. He was a man with a healthy sex drive. Looking at it from a purely pragmatic standpoint, he figured he could have occasional sex with her without too much difficulty.
Sharing a bedroom, however, was an intimacy reserved for his wife. Even though he was about to take vows legally bestowing that title upon Marcie, in his heart Tanya would forever be his wife. He might periodically share a bed with Marcie, but he would sleep in another room.
In addition to moving from the apartment
there had been blood tests to take, a license to buy, his brother to argue with, his mother to reassure, his sister to keep from murdering if she shot off her smart mouth about his questionable sanity one more time, and a new dark suit to buy.
Because of a fortunate break in the weather, his in-laws had arrived the night before and taken Marcie, him, and his entire family to dinner at the Milton Point Country Club. The couple were almost giddy over their only child's finally getting married. They seemed so pathetically relieved that she wouldn't end up an old maid. Chase felt embarrassed for
Marcie. Theirs were the only two happy faces at the table.
To her credit, Laurie had done her best to make the strained occasion convivial. Pat Bush had been there to lend moral support. Devon, too, had kept the conversation going when it flagged, but had displayed her nervousness with an enormous appetite, which became the butt of several jokes.
Under threat of death, Sage had kept her opinions to herself. At the end of the evening when she hugged her prospective sister-in-law good night, one would have thought Marcie was a woman doomed to the gallows rather than a bride on her way to the altar.
Lucky had kept a civil tongue, but his thoughts had been telegraphed by his perpetual glower. It was obvious that he believed his brother was making a dreadful mistake.
Chase wondered if that was true as he
glanced at the woman standing beside him now. Marcie wasn't hard on the eyes at all. In fact, she looked beautiful. She was dressed in a white wool suit that somehow managed to look soft and bridal in spite of its tailored lines. Her hair was pulled up, and she was wearing a small hat with a veil that reached her nose. Behind it her blue eyes were sparkling and smiling.
"Nervous?" she asked him.
"Uncomfortable," he said. "I didn't have time to get the coat of this suit altered. It's snug."
She reached up and ran her hand across his shoulders. "That's the price you pay for having such broad shoulders."
Chase jumped reflexively, but he wasn't sure if it was because of Marcie's unexpected and very wifely touch or because the receptionist chose that moment to tell them the judge was ready for them.
They filed into the hushed, paneled chamber
— the bride and groom, Marcie's parents, all the Tylers, and Pat Bush. It was an austere gathering.
Chase's thoughts were pulled back by tethers of memory to the lovely, candlelight church wedding Tanya and he had had. Her large family had filled up the first several pews. It had been a happy occasion, though both mothers had cried a little into dainty lace handkerchiefs that Tanya had embroidered and given to them as gifts.
No one in attendance could have doubted
their love for each other. Tanya had looked breathtakingly beautiful as she glided down the aisle in her white gown. They had pledged each other love and faithfulness until death—
"Will you, Chase, take Marcia Elaine Johns to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love her, honor her, protect and keep her for as long as you both shall live?"
The question plucked Chase from his sweet reverie and cruelly thrust him into the present.
He stared at the judge, who looked back at him with puzzlement. Then he looked down into Marcie's expectant face.
"I will."
The judge posed the same questions to
Marcie. She responded in a soft, solemn voice.
They exchanged the simple gold bands they had purchased together yesterday. The judge pronounced them man and wife, then said to
Chase, "You may kiss your bride."
And Chase's heart stumbled over its next beat.
He had slept with countless women since
Tanya's death, but he hadn't kissed a single one. Somehow that melding of the mouths seemed more intimate and personal than climaxing while inside a female body. Kissing was done face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and required some measure of participation from both parties.
He turned toward his bride and took her shoulders between his hands. He lowered his head a fraction.
He paused. Their small congregation seemed collectively to hold its breath.
He couldn't look into Marcie's eyes because he didn't want to see her anxiety or censure.
So he concentrated on her lips. Well-shaped lips. The color of peaches in the family orchard when they're ready to be picked. Soft looking and now, slightly tremulous.
He bent his head and touched them with his. They were pliant enough to make him curious and tempting enough to make him cautious. He yielded to the former and pressed against them a trifle more firmly.
Then he quickly pulled back. She smiled. So did he.
But his smile felt wooden.
Thankfully, he was hastily embraced by
Marcie's mother. Mr. Johns enthusiastically pumped his hand, welcoming him into their small family.
While saying something appropriate to his new mother-in-law, he reflexively whisked his tongue across his lips…
and was shocked to taste Marcie there.
"When did your folks say they're going back to Houston?"
"In the morning."
Chase helped Marcie out of her fur jacket and hung it on the coat tree just inside her front door… their front door. "What's their hurry? Why don't they stick around for a few days?"