Newlywed Games (24 page)

“You’re hopeless,” Brock said lightly.

Bruce turned on his brother and stepped into the living room, away from the bedroom door. “Why don’t you and Mother and Father get a hotel?”

“We all just want to get to know your new little bride. You certainly have been tight-lipped about her. We can’t count on you to tell us anything. Which is hard to understand,” he said, shaking his head. “If I was married to a beauty like that, I wouldn’t hide her away. I would show her off to the world.” Brock tossed the sofa cushions aside.

“Fortunately you don’t have to worry about that, and the day after tomorrow I won’t have to worry about it, either.”

Brock unfolded the bed from the couch. “Sorry, bro. You’re going to have us hanging around a little longer.”

“What?” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, unable to believe his parents would want to stay longer
than a day or two. Six people cramped in his apartment was not their style.

“You know how Mother can be. She’s like a child with a new toy. She finally has a daughter-in-law.” His voice turned compassionate. “I think she misses not having a daughter.”

They were staying. He couldn’t believe they were staying.

“You’re going to lose her,” Brock said.

Bruce didn’t have to ask Brock who he was talking about. Bruce glared at him. “Is that a threat?”

Brock shrugged a lone shoulder as he finished up with the bed. “Just an observation.”

Snatching up a pillow and an extra blanket, Bruce went to sleep on the floor. He wouldn’t likely sleep tonight anyway, so what did it matter where he was. He just couldn’t lose Meghann.

Meghann sat at the two-person table at the Crystal Swan and forced a smile for her pseudo-mother-in-law. She had tried to get her mother to come too, but she insisted that Meghann and Olivia needed this time to get acquainted.

Meghann sipped her ice water with a wedge of lemon in it. “I’m sorry that the wedding was such a rush and we couldn’t invite all of you. It was nothing personal. If we had more time, we would have invited everyone.”

Olivia rested her hand on Meghann’s forearm. “It’s all right, dear. Bruce explained about your mother’s
health condition. But I insist on giving you and Bruce a grand reception this summer. We have friends that would be positively insulted if they were not invited to celebrate in Bruce’s good fortune.”

Why did she have the foreboding sense Olivia wasn’t talking about a little gathering of their closest friends? “Please don’t go to any trouble.”

“It will be no trouble at all. I’m looking forward to it.” Olivia leaned forward. “In truth, I’ve been looking forward to this for some years now. Oh, we tried to fix Bruce up with some nice girls, but he wasn’t ready to settle down. Not until you that is.” The excitement in her voice twisted Meghann’s insides even more.

The waitress arrived with their food. Meghann stared down at hers, doubting she would be able to eat anything, her insides twisted and coiled into painful knots. Her chicken Caesar salad lay untouched on her plate. She thought it would be light enough for her turbulent midsection to take, but she feared she was wrong. Now it just stared up at her, mocking her, accusing her. She poked at it with her fork.

“Is everything all right?” Olivia dabbed the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin.

Meghann dragged her eyes away from the artistically arranged food on her plate to meet Olivia’s questioning gaze. “Yes, fine.”

“Is there anything wrong with your Caesar salad? We can send it back to the kitchen if you’re not pleased with it.”

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I understand, dear. If you don’t feel up to eating,
don’t worry about it. It’s only natural.”

It’s only natural? No, not this pregnant thing again.

Meghann picked up her fork and swallowed hard before taking the bite it held. She was going to eat every last leaf of this taunting salad, even if it killed her. Her tense stomach lurched in protest with the first bite. She swallowed carefully, forcing herself on to the next bite.

She already swallowed her pride, choked on her lies, and stuffed herself with humiliation. In light of all that, eating one stupid salad should be a snap.

A
COUPLE OF DAYS LATER
, M
EGHANN FOUND HERSELF ALONE
in the afternoon. Everyone was out doing one thing or another.

Finally, blessed, peaceful solitude.

She reclined in one of the soft leather chairs in the living room and propped her feet up on the ottoman to enjoy the quiet, filling her lungs with the stillness. A calm in the midst of the storm.

A certain pair of warm brown eyes came to mind, like soft melted chocolate…she had a sudden hankering for a Snickers bar. Bruce had a stash of little ones in his dry bar with an assortment of other junk food. If she recalled right, they were just behind the pop under the potato chips. She appreciated his penchant for junk food. He always had plenty on hand.

Bruce had undergone a transformation since his family arrived. The easygoing this-is-a-game-let’s-have-fun Bruce had slipped away. In his place, a more serious Bruce who only smiled occasionally emerged…an echo
of the staunch and stoic never-let-them-see-you-smile Ivan Halloway.

Jumping off the couch, she trotted over and opened the cabinet doors. She scanned the interior and noticed things had been moved around. Bottled water, pop, Doritos, Fritos, wine, and there they were, the Snickers, right next to the Scotch.

Meghann’s hand froze in place. Scotch? Moving her hand slowly from the Scotch to the red wine, she noticed more: vodka, bourbon, and white wine. There must have been eight to ten bottles of assorted alcohol. When she heard the front door open, she quickly closed the cabinet doors with a double kathud and shot to her feet.

Bruce walked in and greeted her with a warm smile. Looking around at the empty apartment, he grinned at her. “How did you manage time to yourself?”

“Our mothers went off on some secret mission. I think they are up to something. I don’t know where your dad and Brock went.” She twisted her ring around and around on her finger. “I made calls from here, and everything’s going smoothly for the ball.”

He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, I feel fine,” she said and nervously eyed the dry bar. She felt like a naughty child caught red-handed.

“You look pale.” He came up to her with a concerned expression.

This was ridiculous; she had done nothing wrong.
She
certainly hadn’t bought all that liquor. Besides, this was his apartment. He could have a hundred bottles of
alcohol if he wanted to. “I’m fine, really,” she said, waving away his concern.

He suspiciously eyed the dry bar. Meghann scooted away when he moved to open it. Letting out a heavy sigh, he shook his head and pulled out bottle after bottle of alcohol, placing them on top next to the clean overturned glasses. Gathering up as many bottles in his arms as he could, he asked her if she could get the rest and headed for the kitchen.

Meghann collected the last three and followed him, wondering what he planned to do with ten bottles of miscellaneous brew all at once. She set hers on the counter by the sink next to the other ones.

How was he going to explain all this alcohol to her? He’d made a point of not having strong drink at the hotel Christmas party. Most everyone at the hotel knew he wasn’t a drinking man, but would Meghann think he was a different man in private than he was in public? The condemning evidence was in front of him…and her.

She looked so stricken at having found what she thought was his stash of liquor. Another strike against him.

“There is a corkscrew in that drawer next to you,” he said as he opened the bottle of vodka.

She dug in the drawer and handed him the twisted utensil. “I know you won’t believe this, but these are not mine.” The ease with which he used the device to open the bottles bothered him. It was like riding a bike, you
never forget. Both the red and white wine were opened swiftly. How would she believe his innocence now?

She reluctantly took the bottle of red wine he handed her as he took the white.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking his bottle with hers, then began dumping it down the drain.

Meghann blinked and looked up at him questioningly.

“Bottoms up,” he said with the raise of his eyebrows but couldn’t blame her for being confused.

She slowly tipped the bottle over. The red liquid gurgled out and down the hole in the bottom of the stainless steel sink.

The alcohol was his father’s subtle way of luring his son back to his old habits; party after party was his way of life back then. Well, he wasn’t taking the bait—not now, not ever.

Father God, give me the strength to once again resist this temptation. In my own strength I will fail.

He poured with determination.

How can I make him see the changes in me are good? I don’t know how to reach him.

Once Bruce emptied his bottle, he picked up another and poured it out. “My father bought all this. He does this every time they visit.”

“But why dump it out? I’m sure this cost a lot of money.”

“My father spared no expense, I assure you that. Only the best.”

“You could return it.”

“I don’t want the money from it.” He took a deep
breath. “I can’t have it around. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it is still a temptation for me. Dumping it out gives me strength.”

The first time his father stocked his bar Bruce had thought it wouldn’t hurt to have it around for visitors. Surely he could stay away from it. Hadn’t he seen how damaging it was for him? Some people might be able to handle liquor, but he wasn’t one of them. He knew it and accepted it.

At least, he thought he did. Until he woke up the next morning with a headache and a boatload of regret. That was one hangover he vividly remembered; the others had been dulled by more alcohol.

The next time he found his father’s “gifts,” he took the bottles straight to the sink with shaking hands and prayed the whole time for God’s strength to dump it all before he drank it. When the deed was done, he was wet with perspiration and shaking so badly he could hardly stand. Each time it got easier. Now, it was more a statement to his father that he wouldn’t have it around even for him.

He looked directly at her. “My father has to know the changes in my life are permanent.” He had to make sure she knew it, too.

If only he could be sure he had the time to show her. But with each passing day, the dread that plagued him grew stronger. He couldn’t explain it, but he was fairly sure time was running out.

B
RUCE WATCHED AS
B
ROCK, THEIR MOTHER, AND
M
EG’S
mother occupied Meghann with merry chatter. Even his father was vying for a small piece of her attention.

Jealousy shot through him. He knew it was irrational, but he wanted Meg to himself. Wanted her to desire his company more than any other.

With a sigh, he studied his family and Meg again. Clearly, he was not likely to get any time with her. Not unless he remedied this situation.

Just then Brock reached over and touched Meghann’s arm as he whispered in her ear. She turned and gifted him with a smile.

That’s it!

Bruce strode over and took Meghann by the hand. She stood without hesitation, a fact that warmed his heart.

His mother, however, wasn’t so compliant. “Bruce, what are you doing?”

“I’m commandeering my wife.”

“You can’t. We’re having a nice talk with her, and I’m
not finished. I’ve barely gotten to know my daughter-in-law.”

“Bruce, I—” Meghann began.

Bruce didn’t let her finish. Instead, he swept her up in his arms and headed for the door. “We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Put me down!” Meghann’s whispered command didn’t bother him much, accompanied as it was by a broad smile. He held fast to her.

“Surely you’re not leaving with her?” His mother’s irritation was as evident as Meg’s pleasure.