The Substitute Bride (The Great Wedding Giveaway Series Book 7) (16 page)

But, to Marly’s surprise, the cold disapproval she’d expected to confront simply wasn’t there.  Instead, Angelina’s face wore a strangely vulnerable look.  She clutched Marly’s forearm with rigid fingers.

“Thank God,” she breathed.  “I was so worried.”

“I’m fine, Mom.  I’m sorry I didn’t call to warn you I’d be late.” Marly took a breath and plowed forward.  “I was with Drake.  At Three Horses.”

Her mother shut her eyes, as if the news pained her physically.  “Yes,” she said.  “I thought you might be.”

Marly pulled out the adjoining chair and sat.  “Please don’t let it make you sad,” she said.  “I went there because...I care about him.  I always have.  You knew that, didn’t you?  I think you knew it better than I did.”

Her mother shook her head, not in denial, but in distress.  “Yes,” she said again.  “But I also knew he wasn’t right for you.  I knew how terribly he could hurt you.  I knew that better than you did, too.”

Marly wondered whether that was true.  If she had handed her heart to Drake on a platter, back when they were in school, would he have broken it?

She didn’t think so.  But she wasn’t going to debate it now.  Neither of them could prove what might have happened
if
.  If the past had been different... what a pointless way to begin an argument.

More importantly, she didn’t want to fight with her mother anymore.  Not about anything.  She wanted to get to know her.  She would like to be her friend.

But they’d been Mother and Child, Authority and Submission, for so long.  If Marly had stayed in Marietta, they might have transitioned from these roles to peers in smaller, easier stages.  Instead, she’d left, and she hadn’t come back.  Now somehow they had to bridge this gulf, take this giant leap, all at once.

How could they even begin?

“Marly,” her mother said suddenly, leaning forward, as if she felt some urgency.  “I’m sorry about what happened earlier.  About the job.  I didn’t mean to meddle.  I honestly believed I was helping, but I see now how blind that was.  You’re not a little girl anymore, and—”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize.”  Though only yesterday Marly had longed for an admission like the one her mother just offered, everything looked different today.  Today she could see how her own twisted perspective had turned an innocent gesture of support into an insult and a sin.

“Obviously I’m raw about losing the job,” she went on, struggling to be honest.  “Add getting jilted, and my self-confidence has taken a bit of a beating.  So I’m prickly.  I automatically assumed you didn’t have faith in me because I don’t have much faith in myself.”

She smiled wryly, wrinkling her nose to show she understood how neurotic and high-maintenance that was. 

“I’ll get better,” she promised.  “It might take a little time, though, because I’m pretty sure the baby hormones aren’t helping.”

With anxious eyes, her mother scanned her face.  Then, suddenly, her mother smiled.  “I remember being a little touchy, myself,” she said, “when I first learned I was going to have a baby.”

This wasn’t a topic her mother had ever discussed, never even indirectly alluded to.  The urge to sidetrack, to ask all the questions she’d been hoarding through the years, was almost irresistible. 
Who was my father
? 
Why wouldn’t you ever reveal his name, even to me
?

But if her plans went well, she’d have lots of time to talk about all that later. 

“I hope you can stand me, hormones and all,” she said, taking her mother’s flawlessly manicured hand, an intimacy she wouldn’t have dared just yesterday.  She squeezed tightly.  “Because I’ve decided I want to stay in Marietta.”

No response.  Angelina’s face simply froze...as if the living woman had been replaced by a photograph.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Marly continued, refusing to be stymied by the obvious horror in that motionless face.  “And believe me, I know I’m already in the way.  I’m not asking to hijack your art room forever.  I’ve seen some apartments I think I can manage.” 

Her mother still hadn’t so much as blinked. 

“And don’t worry about the job,” Marly continued.  “I know it’s lean times for newspapers.  If there’s no long-term spot for me at the Courier, I’ll freelance, or maybe I’ll put out feelers in Bozeman.  Or Livingston.”

She paused, feeling awkward.  Feeling like a salesman who was trying too hard, singing and tap-dancing and slashing prices...and still falling flat on his face.

“Mom.”  She jiggled her mother’s hand.  “Say something.”

Say you’re happy.  Say you’d been hoping I would decide to stay
.

But of course her mother said none of that.  She met Marly’s pleading gaze with dark, inscrutable eyes.

“Is this because of Drake?”

Marly shook her head, a steady, implacable swing from side to side.  “No,” she said.

“Because if it is, you’re making a terrible mistake.  They say he has a buyer for Three Horses.  He isn’t staying, either.”

Marly continued to shake her head.  “This is
not
because of Drake.  Of course, I hope he’ll decide not to sell.  But we haven’t talked about it, and he made no promises.  We didn’t even talk about whether we have any kind of future together.  All I asked him for was tonight.”

At this, her mother squeezed her eyes shut, hard.  “Oh, Marly.  Marly,” she said, her voice anguished and raw.

Marly lifted her chin.  “I don’t regret it,” she said.  “No matter what happens, I’ll never regret tonight.”

Slowly, her mother opened her eyes and nodded.  She seemed suddenly resigned, as if she had finally heard a note she recognized.  As if she’d just glimpsed inside Marly’s heart, and what she’d seen there was simply too big to fight. 

“All right, then,” she said wearily.  “If it’s not Drake, what is it?  Why have you suddenly changed every plan we’ve ever made for your life?”

Because they were your plans, not mine
, Marly almost answered.  But she didn’t.  True as the statement would have been, it wasn’t the whole truth.  She’d fallen into line with her mother’s plans because she was young and unformed—far more naive, even, than her chronological years.  She simply hadn’t known herself well enough to know what she really wanted.

It had taken both of them—the strong-willed mother and the weak-willed daughter—to create this situation.

“I want to stay in Marietta because this is my home,” she said.

She smiled. “I want to stay because I love Copper Mountain, and wicked winters, and wildflowers in June.  Because I love Erica Applebaum and her spider, and Bentley Larkspur and his piano.  Because I love gutsy cowboys and rolling ranchlands.  I love bison burgers and knowing that every single soul I meet on the street will gossip about me when I walk away.”

Finally, her mother smiled, too.  A tiny smile, but Marly counted it a victory. 

“And because I want to see who wins this Wedding Giveaway,” she went on.  “I want to see whether Troy Sheenan can make a go of the Graff.  I want to carry on the family tradition at the Courier.  I want—”

Here, she had to stop.  A jagged lump had appeared in her throat, out of nowhere, and she had to wrestle it away. 

“I want my baby to know his grandmother.”  She forced herself to finish, though her voice had grown ragged and tight.  “And, most of all, I want to spend time with you, Mom.  You’ve been alone here too many years already.”

“No.”  To Marly’s horror, her mother began to shake her head roughly.  Her eyes, which had until this very moment remained almost expressionless, suddenly seemed to crumple under a twisted brow and fill with tears.

“No,” Angelina repeated vehemently.  “It
must
not be because of me.  I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me.  I’m fine here alone.  That’s the honest truth.  I’ve never minded...never minded being alone.”

Marly tilted her head, confused.  “Of course you’re fine.  You’re the most independent person I know.  I didn’t mean to imply that—”

But her mother didn’t seem to hear her.  “I’m perfectly content, as long as your life is everything it should be.  You can’t give up your future just because I... “ 

Tears, the first Marly had ever seen her mother cry, began to slide down her cheeks.  “I can’t stand it if, after all these years of trying to set you free, I end up being the anchor that holds you down...”

“
Mom
.”  Genuine alarm coursed through Marly’s veins.  She rose from her chair and bent over her mother, her arm around her shoulder.  “Where is this coming from?  You could never be an anchor.  You’ve always been my inspiration.  You’ve always been my rock.”

Her mother shook her head, though she didn’t protest in words. Her face gleamed, crystalline, with tears.

Marly held her tightly, leaning in closer.  Their foreheads touched, and, to Marly, it felt like a kiss. 

“Mom...help me understand.  Are you saying...”  She couldn’t think how to put it.  “I mean...it hadn’t even occurred to me that you could possibly want me to stay.  You always seemed so determined to push me away.”

“I was determined not to trap you here,” her mother said dully, without lifting her head.  “And that meant I couldn’t let it show.  I couldn’t ever let you guess that I...”

She didn’t finish.  Marly waited a few seconds, but her mother seemed to have decided not to continue.  Or maybe she was simply too exhausted to find the right words.

“You couldn’t ever let me guess what?”  Marly was unable to let it go.  She dreaded reverting to their old pattern, in which nothing was stated outright, nothing was shared of their inner truths.  “Please.  Tell me.  You couldn’t let me guess what?”

Finally, her mother lifted her face, and looked directly at Marly.  The unmasked misery, never before glimpsed, took Marly’s breath away. 

“That you were all I had,” Angelina said with a terrible simplicity.  “That you were my whole world.”

Marietta Regional Hospital was only a couple of blocks from the Courier, so Marly didn’t bother with her car.  Court Street led her past the Graff, where she dropped off some display ad proofs for approval.  From there, Court Street took her safely over the railroad tracks, and on to Railway Avenue, where the hospital and medical complex occupied the entire block. 

Even with the stop at the Graff, getting to the hospital took less than twenty minutes.  Still, it was nearly ten a.m. by the time she arrived. 

She had found it hard to drag herself away from the apartment.  In another first, her mother had called down to the newsroom and told Joey she’d be taking the morning off.  Then she and Marly had whipped up some omelets and brewed a decadent, flavored coffee.  They sat at the kitchen table for several hours, eating and drinking, and talking about everything under the sun. 

They’d talked about big things like love,  baby names and the future of journalism—and trivial nonsense, as well, like whether putting green peppers in omelets should be a hanging offense.

Neither of them had wanted to break the spell.  It was as if they’d feared these new lines of communication, still in precarious infancy, might slam shut if they went unused for even a few hours.

Eventually, though, Angelina’s conscience had forced her down to the newsroom, and Marly’s worry had sent her walking briskly to Marietta Regional.

She was desperate to know how Fly had endured the night.  And to see Drake.

If Drake had already left the hospital, then as soon as she checked on Fly she would head out to Three Horses. 

She couldn’t leave things as they were right now.  She needed, at least, to tell him how she felt. 

It was quite possible he didn’t care.  Maybe, now the physical itch had been scratched, she was of little interest to him.  He might even be annoyed that she’d intrude at such a time, droning on about relationships and the future and feelings while his surrogate father lay in the hospital.

But none of that deterred her.  This was a risk-taking, truth-telling kind of day, and Drake Everett was the next big, risky Truth on her list.

Ten minutes after entering the hospital’s lobby, though, she hadn’t been able to get past the information desk, where a white-haired pink lady adamantly refused to reveal Bentley Larkspur’s location. 

Marly had already tried charm, but the pink lady had clearly been inoculated against that.  Looked as if she’d have to try getting nasty next.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Drake stride in through the double doors.

Thank God
.  She wanted to rush over to him, but the sight of his beautiful, lean body in motion did something liquid to her legs, and she ended up hanging onto the information counter just to keep from puddling on the floor.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him.  It was like being a teenager again.  No, it was worse.  Back then, she’d been so sheltered and geeky her fantasies mainly revolved around terms like ‘French kiss’ and ‘first base’. 

Now...

Oh, now her fantasies were powerful, lovely things.  3-D, X-Rated and audio enhanced.  As she watched him now, she tingled in all the places he’d kissed, and licked, and loved.  Which meant she tingled everywhere.

She wondered whether she might have made a very tiny whimpering sound, because suddenly the pink lady’s mouth tightened, and her hand reached for the telephone. 

But Drake had finally spotted Marly.  Smiling politely, he abandoned his straight shot to the elevators, detouring to the information desk.

It was only then that she noticed he wasn’t alone.  Robin Armstrong followed in his wake. 

As they drew closer, details became clearer.  No wonder Marly hadn’t noticed the other woman, at first.  Robin appeared oddly subdued, her usual ebullience tamped down.  At the moment, she looked like any other attractive redhead, instead of a uniquely sparkling firecracker.

Robin Armstrong...chastened and reduced to being just another girl?  Why?  Marly’s stomach clenched.  Did that mean the news about Fly was very, very bad?

“Drake,” she said eagerly as he finally reached her.  “How is he?”

“He is as irrepressible as ever,” he said.  “Driving the doctors insane, of course, insisting on going home.  They aren’t sure how to handle him.  They’ve never seen such a recovery.”