A Marriage of Convenience (5 page)

He came into her hard, his weight pushing her into the bed. He rolled on his side, pulling her protectively and possessively towards him as her constrictions squeezed the last remnants of pleasure from his body.

They’d slept like that until around three in the morning when Sabrina had begun to stir. Austin had started to rise, but Jillian had patted him on the arm and said it was her turn. “You have to work tomorrow, remember?” It was the last thing he remembered before waking up beside her.

He rose and showered before dressing for the day. He planned to talk to Evan, the curator of the museum and tell him what was happening with his mother. He hoped he’d be able to keep his job but wanted to prepare for the possibility that he may not. He knew he’d have to put the condo on the market. His mother had paid cash for it and put it in his name, but even though it was paid for it was more house than they needed. If he lost his job at the museum, the sale of the condo could help them afford something smaller and give them enough to live on until he found more gainful employment.

Jillian was vaguely aware of her husband kissing her goodbye and leaving. She wished she had seen him off to work, but was touched that he’d let her sleep since she’d been up with Sabrina. She watered the flowers he bought for her at the farmer’s market and fixed some breakfast. When the phone rang, she smiled and rushed for it, suspecting it was Austin.

Instead, she found herself greeted by Martha Bellaford.

“Oh, hello,” Jillian said. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, Mrs. Bellaford. If you’re looking for Austin, he’s at work.”

“I wasn’t looking for Austin, dear,” she said. “I was looking for you, actually.”

“Oh?” Jillian asked. The woman made her nervous, even over the phone.

“Yes,” Martha Bellaford said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. “Now that you are my daughter-in-law, I think we should get to know one another better. I was wondering if you’d like to come to my house for lunch today.”

Jillian wanted to say ‘no.’ But before she could, her mother-in-law pressed the issue.

“I’ve already notified the caterer because I couldn’t imagine that you’d refuse me. We’ll be having salmon, artichokes, glazed pears and brie. I could send a car.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Jillian said. “I can drive myself.” Austin had left her the SUV and had taken his other car, deeming the larger vehicle safer for his wife and child.

“Splendid,” she said. “The address is 287 Forest Lawn Way. It’s a huge Georgian-style house. You can’t miss it. Just announce yourself at the gate and someone will buzz you in. See you at noon.”

Jillian’s mother-in-law hung up without even saying goodbye. Jillian debated calling her back with some excuse about the baby being fussy or her developing a sudden headache. But she was part of this family now and would have to get to know Martha Bellaford whether she liked it or not. And she couldn’t really expect her husband to always serve as a buffer between her and people who made her nervous. Jillian appreciated Austin’s chivalry but decided he’d ultimately be proud of her for doing this on her own.

She got the baby up, fed and bathed her and then dressed the child in the little frock she’d made just the day before. It fit perfectly and Sabrina looked adorable. Jillian chose a very feminine looking dress with tiny flowers all over it. She’d made it herself several years before with fabric she’d found at a yard sale. Every time she wore it, it earned her compliments.

Jillian tried to keep her nerves steady as the clock crept closer to noon. She relied on the GPS to navigate her to the house in Forest Lawn, a sprawling gated community just outside town. As Martha Bellaford had stated, the house could not be missed. It was enormous, towering over the hundred year oaks that lined the long drive leading to it. Jillian guided the SUV to a stop near the stone steps and tried to think positively as she unbuckled her sleeping daughter’s car carrier.

It was not Martha Bellaford who answered the door but a harried looking maid with weary eyes.

“Mrs. Austin Bellaford?” she asked.

“Mrs. Foley-Bellaford,” Jillian corrected.

“Very good, ma’am,” the maid said. “This way.”

Jillian followed the woman through the mammoth house. It was excessively formal and cold, and overwhelmingly quiet. Jillian knew Austin’s father had passed away and wondered why anyone would choose to live in such a huge house alone. It seemed to her that it would accentuate the loneliness to be surrounded by so much hollow-sounding space.

The table was laid out in the solarium where Austin had dined with his mother the day before. Orchids and other hothouse plants surrounded the table. Misters went off in the corners of the room periodically, cooling the air slightly and giving the room an earthy smell that competed with the smell of the meal already laid out in serving trays on the table.

Martha Bellaford was fussing over an orchid when her daughter-in-law walked in. She walked over with a smile but it was not for Jillian.

“Hello!” she cooed to the baby. “My goodness, you look more like my son every day. One would think he gave birth to him without a shred of anyone else’s DNA, so much does he favor my Austin. And lucky for little Sabrina, too, because her daddy is such a handsome man.”

She peered at the baby. “What on earth is she wearing, though?” Her fingers moved down to feel the fabric. “What is this?”

“It’s a dress, Mrs. Bellaford,” Jillian said. “I made it.”

The older woman looked up, revolted. “You do know that decent people buy clothes, right?”

“That’s wrong, ma’am,” Jillian said, frustrated that Austin’s mother had managed to insult her twice within five minutes of her arrival. “Plenty of people sew for enjoyment and love making things for themselves and their children to wear. Just because you’ve limited yourself by not knowing any of them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Martha Bellaford focused all attention on her daughter-in-law now. Her expression was not at all kind, and Jillian knew her pointed remark had angered the older woman.

“Well,” Martha said. “I am proud to limit my social circle to those people ambitious enough to afford to buy the things their children need. And quite soon my circle shall again remain just that…” She turned. “Sit down,” she said.

Jillian placed the carrier at her feet and sat down. The maid placed food on both their plates. Her mother-in-law watched her like a hawk. Jillian wondered whether the woman was surprised when she used the fork properly.

“I hope the condo is to your liking,” Martha Bellaford said.

“It’s very nice,” Jillian said.

“My son tells me you’ve decided not to get a job.”

Jillian looked up, surprised. “Did he tell you that he insisted that I stay home with the baby? I wanted to get a job. He said no.”

Martha smiled. “If that had been the case, he would have told me. He said you announced that you would not be working. I can’t say I blame you. Many a young woman who marries up takes advantage of the situation. You are hardly the first.”

That was the third insult. Jillian suddenly regretted coming. She felt herself growing angrier by the minute, and that anger was now compounded by the possibility that a mutual agreement made with Austin for her to stay home had either been misinterpreted or misrepresented.

She stood up. “Mrs. Bellaford, you’ve insulted me three times since I’ve arrived. I’d come here hoping to get to know you better, but it seems your sole motivation in having me to lunch is to denigrate me. I’m leaving.”

Martha Bellaford stood quickly. “No…please, stay.” She seemed almost desperate, and this took Jillian by surprise. It also made her uneasy for reasons she could not fathom.

“I sometimes am too blunt,” her mother-in-law said. “Let’s try again, shall we?” She gestured to the chair. “Leave,” an inner voice said to Jillian. But she ignored it. If her mother-in-law was willing to try, she owed it to her husband and daughter. Martha Bellaford was Sabrina’s grandmother, after all.

Jillian sat back down. Her mother-in-law changed the subject from personal matters to a rambling explanation of how the solarium came to be added to the house. She talked of nothing personal, nothing about Austin or her experiences with him growing up. When Jillian tried to steer the conversation in that direction, she was given short, vague answers before the subject was changed. It was as if her mother-in-law was making a concerted effort to keep the conversation as far from the personal as possible.

Jillian was almost relieved when Sabrina began to fuss and fret. The maid heated a bottle and Jillian thought it may help matters if her mother-in-law was offered the chance to feed her. But Martha Bellaford seemed taken aback by the idea.

“I had someone do that sort of thing for me,” she said. “If you’d like to hand Sabrina to the maid I’ll happily hold her after she’s been fed, burped and changed.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jillian said.

“Well, if you insist on doing it yourself then you can use the bathroom just off the hallway,” her mother-in-law said.

She fed the baby herself and then excused herself from the room to change the child in another room. Afterwards, she announced that she had to be going, without offering her mother-in-law a chance to hold Sabrina. And oddly enough, her mother-in-law did not insist. In fact, Martha Bellaford seemed satisfied to let her go.

“The maid will see you out.” Martha Bellaford was studying the orchid again, and didn’t even look up at Jillian as she sent her off.

Jillian was disappointed but relieved. Her first impressions of Austin’s mother were not all in her mind, and she hoped to get some clarity from her husband about what was said to her mother-in-law about their decision for her to stay home with Sabrina. Austin seemed so very genuine; would he really misrepresent what had happened to his mother? She did not want to think that was the case.

At the gate the guard nodded and the huge doors swung open. A second gate at the head of the community let her out. Jillian felt relieved to be back on the road headed home. Behind her, Sabrina sucked on her fist and made little cooing noises that made Jillian smile.

When she saw the blue lights speeding towards her in the rearview mirror, Jillian moved closer to the shoulder so the two police cars could pass. But then she heard the short bursts from the siren and the first car was right on her bumper. Frowning, Jillian pulled over. The first car pulled in behind her and the second pulled in the front. A third unmarked car pulled in front of that one. Jillian stared, confused, as the officer walked up to her window.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “License and registration?”

She handed it to him. He studied the documents. “This vehicle is registered to….”

“…my husband,” she said. “Is something wrong? I wasn’t speeding. I wouldn’t. I have my child with me.”

The police officer looked in the back seat and then spoke into the radio receiver on his shirt. “Minor involved. We’ll need someone to contact a relative.”

Jillian felt a surge of fear.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Ma’am, I need you to step out of the car.”

Jillian obeyed, feeling more nervous by the minute. She’d not been speeding. She’d stopped for every red light. What could be wrong? She moved towards the back door to get Sabrina, but the officer stopped her.

“Ma’am, do not approach the vehicle…”

“My child…”

“…will be fine. Do you mind if we have a look inside?”

“I….sure. Why?” It did not occur to Jillian to refuse the search. She had nothing illegal in the car.

“Three officers were going through the vehicle now. The first one had her purse. She saw him pull something out and show it to another officer. It was a pill bottle. She didn’t recognize it. Another officer was going through the glove box. He pulled out a baggie.

“More, Joe,” he said.

“What is going on?” Her heart was hammering now. She knew she’d done nothing wrong and then got a terrible feeling. She’d left the car unlocked while she’d been inside the Bellaford house. But no…would the woman really do something like this to her?

“What’s happening?” she asked the nearest cop. “I have a right to know!” She was shaking now, and tears were running down her face.

Another car pulled up now, a Mercedes sedan. Jillian’s heart dropped as she saw her mother-in-law exit.

“I knew it,” she was saying. “I didn’t want to call, but as soon as I found they were missing I suspected it was her even though I didn’t want to believe the rumors about her drug use….”

“What drug use?” Jillian felt faint. “What is she talking about?”

The officer walked over. “We found these in your purse, ma’am. It’s oxycodone, 10 milligram. The label clearly reads that they were prescribed to Mrs. Bellaford. Mrs. Martha Bellaford. And we found another bag of pills in your glove compartment. Oxycontin. There’s enough there to warrant a felony possession charge alone of you can’t prove they’re yours.”

“None of them are mine!” Tears were streaming down her face now. “I need to see my husband. Can someone get my husband?”

“You can call him after you’re booked downtown,” a female officer said as she took Jillian’s hands one by one and cuffed them at the wrists.

“You have the right to remain silent…”