Marriage Matters (22 page)

Forty-three

K
ristine walked into the pantry off June’s kitchen, shutting the door behind her. Her mouth was dry and she felt dizzy. There were too many things to take in.

June’s engagement was a wonderful surprise. The fact that June and Charley had fallen for each other . . . well, nothing could seem more natural. Chloe, on the other hand . . . Kristine put her hand to her chest just thinking about it.

Yes, Geoff seemed poised and earnest, but he and Chloe had just met! They’d only known each other for
two months.
Yes, Kristine wanted her daughter to find love and get married but this was much too fast. How long was it going to take for Chloe to really think about this and panic? Or maybe—and Kristine could only hope—her daughter had accepted the proposal out of courtesy, planning to break it off when there weren’t so many people around.

Or maybe Chloe and Geoff really were meant to be. Maybe they would get married and live happily ever after. But did happily ever after even exist?

Even after the magical time she and Kevin had shared together in Venice, she still had questions about their relationship. It was one thing to be romantic on vacation. But at home? With this triple wedding—a
triple wedding
,
for heaven’s sake—she would be solidifying a vow to accept him the way things were, for better or for worse. Even if nothing changed.

“Shit,” Kristine said softly. “Shit, shit,
shit
.”

“I certainly hope you are not cussing out my dry goods,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Kristine turned to face her mother. “No, no.” She pasted on a smile. “Not at all. Mom, I’m so happy for you.”

June waggled her ring finger. “Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can. But
you
told me you hated that man,” she teased. “That the very sight of him made you break out in hives. That you thought he’d bury your body in the garden.”

June grinned. “Well, I was wrong.” Pulling the pantry door shut behind her, she whispered, “Have you noticed how handsome he looks in his gardening shirt?”

Kristine laughed. “That will be your engagement photo. The two of you dressed alike, in gardening gear.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that a few of June’s canned goods were out of order. Quickly, she put them back into place.

“Kristine.” June laid a hand over hers. Their hands were exactly the same. But Kristine’s hands were still young and smooth, while June’s were spotted with age. “You’re upset about Chloe’s engagement, aren’t you?”

Kristine hesitated and her shoulders slumped. “She hardly knows him. It’s so risky. It’s—”

“Chloe deserves to be happy. It’s not your job to judge the situation. It’s your job to guide her to make the best decisions within the framework of what she’s decided to do.”

Kristine eyed her mother. Where had this new, enlightened version of June come from? Maybe falling in love had changed her. Or maybe (more likely) she approved of the match.

Shaking her head, Kristine pressed her fingers into the tender area around her nose. It was painful to the touch and she wondered if she’d caught a cold on the plane. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know if I can get behind this.”

“I know you’re worried. But he’s lovely.” Her mother seemed to consider something. “I’ve heard that his little girl, on the other hand . . .”

“I forgot about that,” Kristine groaned, sinking against a shelf. “Chloe’s going to be a mother? She’s not ready for that.”

“Chloe loves children,” June said. “Especially the naughty ones. The universe has a way of giving us what we ask for. Maybe she just forgot to be specific.”

Kristine shook her head. Against her will, tears pricked at the edge of her lashes.

“Kristine, don’t cry,” June pleaded. “Sweetheart, this is a happy time. I promise you.”

Maybe because she was tired from the flight or the uncertainty of it all, she gave over to her tears. “Come here.” Her mother pulled her in tight. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “I don’t mean to ruin things. I’m really happy for you guys. For all of us. But I just . . . I don’t want to see Chloe get her heart broken.”

June patted her on the back, just as she’d done so often when Kristine was a little girl. When the tears finally stopped, June handed her a napkin shaped like a turkey. It was from a plastic bag sitting on the shelf, and Kristine had a vague memory of seeing these napkins at Thanksgiving a few years ago. It had been just Chloe, Kristine and June celebrating. Kevin was stuck in Denver or somewhere, thanks to a snowstorm.

“You don’t have to worry about Chloe,” June promised. “Geoff’s not going to break her heart.”

“Are you sure about that?” She pressed the napkin to her eyes, thankful that she wasn’t wearing mascara. With the other hand, she pushed open the pantry door and scanned the dining room. Chloe was telling a story, gesturing wildly. Her new ring glinted in the candlelight. Kevin and Charley were chuckling as Geoff gazed at her in adoration.

June peered over her shoulder. “To be honest,” she murmured, “Chloe’s much more likely to break his.”

Forty-four

S
ally’s face flushed pink with pleasure. “Bollocks,” she screeched. Everyone in the ice-cream shop turned toward their table. Sally gestured at Chloe, her voice at a fevered pitch. “She’s getting married. With her entire family!” As the other patrons went back to their sundaes, Sally beamed. “This is brilliant. Truly brilliant.”

Chloe selected a nut resting gently on top of the whipped cream and popped it into her mouth. “I thought you were going to say the opposite,” she admitted. Putting on her best British accent, she said, “You can’t be serious. You’re going to share a wedding with your mother and grandmother? Oh, and didn’t you just meet that guy?”

“Who cares when you met him?” Sally pounded the table in excitement. “If it’s love at first sight, why second-guess yourself? Honestly, I think it’s about time you did something crazy. All you do is work and study. This is great!”

“It is. Right?” Setting down her spoon, Chloe stared down at her ring. It sparkled like a suncatcher in the fluorescent light of the ice-cream shop. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. To be honest, I have been freaking out. Just a little bit.”

“Why?” Sally demanded.

“I don’t know . . .” Chloe hesitated. “It’s so sudden. Who gets engaged after two months of dating? It’s crazy. Who does this? I’m not the type of person who does this.”

“Don’t you dare try and ruin the romance.” Sally looked so much like a petulant doll with her blonde ringlet curls, round face and rosy cheeks that Chloe couldn’t help but smile. “You met your prince and he proposed. The end.”

“True.” Chloe touched the ring. The sharp edges felt new and strange against the pad of her thumb. “But you know what it is? It’s Ben.” Just saying his name made her stomach drop. “I’m freaking out about telling Ben.”

“Wait.” Sally stared at her. “You haven’t told Ben? He’s your best friend. You should have told him, like, right away.”

“I know.” Chloe dragged her spoon through the thick caramel at the bottom of her ice-cream dish. She hated to think what Ben was going to say when he found out. It was not going to be short and sweet, she knew that much. Every time she had the conversation with him in her head, she pictured him staring at her with a baffled look on his face.
“Funny,”
he’d say. “
But did you seriously think I’d believe you’d do something so outrageously stupid?”

Sally licked a bit of ice cream off the spoon. “Right,” she said. “Well, he can hardly complain. Geoff clearly adores you, considering he proposed, and you obviously adore him, since you said yes.”

“Yes, but Ben will . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“He’ll have a hard time with it.” Sally nodded. “That you’re marrying someone else.”

“Huh?” Chloe was surprised. “No. He’ll be upset that he didn’t even get to meet the guy first. And that I’m rushing into things. The time line is going to be a major problem for Ben.”

“Oh.”

The two fell silent, and Chloe listened to the nearby clinks of the spoons hitting glass bowls. Through the window, she watched as weekend shoppers raced by. They moved as though trying to grab something just out of reach. Feeling slightly sick inside, probably from all the sugar, she said, “Please don’t tell me you are another person who truly thought I was going to marry Ben.”

“I always thought it was a possibility.” Flipping her spoon backwards, Sally spooned up some ice cream and put it in her mouth. Pulling it out, she said, “But who knows why people end up together? I didn’t think that I’d end up with someone like Norman, but he couldn’t be a better match for me. Holy hell, if I’d married that rocker guy from college . . . What was his name—”

“DeAndre.”

“Yes!” Sally squealed. “If I would have married that guy, who knows where I’d be. I’d probably be living in Vegas or something, in a one-bedroom apartment with bad lighting and flying cockroaches. It’s obvious that Geoff is really good for you. You look relaxed for the first time in, like, two years.”

“He is good for me,” Chloe agreed. “You know, the whole thing is good. Ben and I could never get married, anyway.” She smiled suddenly, imagining it. “Can you imagine? He’d want to design our own invitations and the placards on the table and have some weird, avant-garde band at the reception just to confuse people . . . No, no.” She shook her head. “Marrying Ben would be a lot of work.”

“Yup.” Sally nodded. “Geoff is exactly the type of man you need. Successful, loves his daughter . . . Wait. Does he—”

“Yes,” Chloe said. “He wants to have more kids, especially after seeing me with Mary Beth. The love’s there but the discipline is not.” Sometimes Mary Beth was good and, as the storybook said, sometimes she was simply horrid. “But I can change that. I’ll have her under control in six months.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Lifting up her sundae dish, Sally clinked it against hers. Chloe must have had a funny expression on her face, because Sally said, “Oh, no. What?”

“Nothing.” She grinned. “The clinking sound just made me think of hundreds of champagne glasses coming together in a toast.”

Sally laughed. “Spoken like a true bride to be.”

Forty-five

T
he clock on the top of the desk seemed to tick in time with her heart. Kristine sat in her black rolling desk chair, her feet drumming against the tile of the floor. The office felt too hot, as it always did during the first few days of winter while the staff tried to find a temperature that worked. Seventy might be perfect one year and boil them the next. She wished she could take off her sweater but wasn’t certain what shirt she was wearing underneath. Considering Ethan was stopping by, she felt an irrational desire to remain covered up.

Knock knock.

“Hey.” Ethan walked into her office and shut the door behind him, a slight swagger to his step. He took a seat in the chair across from her and crossed his legs. “It’s good to see you.”

Kristine gave a sharp nod. Squaring her shoulders, she resolved to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible. “Thanks for coming in.”

At her brisk tone, Ethan seemed startled. Then, he gave her a wry look. “I take it the rest of your trip went okay.”

Kristine felt her cheeks color. “It was great.” She picked up a pen and fidgeted with it, trying not to look at him. “My husband and I went up to Venice. We spent a week there, just like when we were younger. It was very special.”

“The canals.” Ethan gave a slight smile. “A never-ending maze of mystery.”

Why did he have to say things like that? Kristine gripped the pen and licked her lips. They suddenly felt a little too dry and she considered reaching into her desk drawer and applying some gloss, but changed her mind. She didn’t want to give the impression that she was trying to . . . impress him.

Staring at the pen, she clicked it. “Ethan, I asked you to come in today because . . .”
Click-click. Click-click.
It sounded like a heartbeat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to continue working here.”

“Ah.”

Kristine shifted in her chair. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” His brow was furrowed, his face serious. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Kristine.”

Quickly, she got to her feet and crossed her arms. “I have to get back to work.”

“Wait.” Ethan pulled out a small wrapped package from his jacket pocket. Handing it to her, he said, “I brought you something.”

Kristine hesitated, her eyes glancing at the door. What if Annie walked in?

“Open it.” His voice was low and intimate. “Please.”

With fingers that still trembled, Kristine untied the red string around the plain paper. A black-and-white photograph stared up at her from a frame. She remembered the exact moment it was taken in St. Peter’s Square, right after Ethan threw her guidebook away. She’d turned to the camera with a look that was both dark and inviting.

“That’s how I see you,” he said. “I really hate to think that I’m losing that.”

For a brief moment, she held tightly to the frame. It was so hard to believe that the wild, beautiful woman in the picture was her. Then she handed the gift back to Ethan.

“I’m sorry.” Her heart felt as heavy as lead. “I just can’t.”

Ethan studied her for a long moment. Then, tucking the photograph under his arm, he turned and walked out the door.