Authors: Diana Palmer
“Is that what we’re celebrating?”
Lilah poured a couple more glasses of blush wine. “Of course not. We’re celebrating Nettie and Chase.”
“Li…” Nettie cautioned, nodding pointedly at Colin.
Chase cleared his throat.
Sara glanced between the two of them. “What about Nettie and Chase?”
Unable, apparently, to contain her enthusiasm—or to recall a conversation that took place only two minutes ago—Lilah faced her sister and bounced up and down on her high-heeled sandals. “Chase proposed to Nettie. They’re getting married!” She squealed like a debutante with a new Nordstrom’s card.
Nettie opened her mouth in a disbelieving
O.
Sara’s eyes bugged wide at the news. Lilah grabbed her arm and shook it. “Isn’t that great?”
Sara nodded. “Yeah.” Slowly a wide smile spread across her face. “Yeah, it is.” She didn’t bounce like Lilah, but when the other woman embraced her, Sara hugged back. “So when did this happen?”
“Just before you got here.” Nick strolled over to pick up a glass of wine. “I think it calls for a toast.”
“Nick!” Nettie gave him a pleading look. He and Lilah had promised to help, not dig a hole for Nettie and Chase to jump into!
“Oh, right,” Nick said, remembering Colin, who was all eyes and ears. “We’d better get juice for you.”
Distressed, Nettie turned to Chase. He shrugged, but his eyes narrowed in assessment. No two people could be this lame. Lilah and Nick were clearly working their own agenda. With little effort, they had just turned a “phony” engagement into the real thing.
He smiled.
Colin wore a huge grin as Nick poured him a tumbler of
cranapple and then clinked glasses with him before raising his goblet in a toast.
“To Nettie and Chase.” Then, including Colin, Nick added, “And family.”
“To family,” Lilah and Sara repeated.
Moving forward, slipping a hand around his fiancée’s waist, Chase accepted the wine Lilah poured for him. Nettie appeared absolutely stupefied. He looked around at the others as they beamed, truly happy and blithely ignoring his orders to keep the “temporary” engagement under wraps. And Colin was in the middle of it all, a bit dazed, but clearly enjoying the hoopla.
Nothing today had gone according to Chase’s plan. On the other hand, what was that saying? All roads lead to Rome.
Yes, indeed, he thought, raising his glass. “To family.”
“So where are you planning to have the wedding?” Sara asked. “Because, you might not have thought about it, but the jail’s available.”
Lilah choked on her wine. “The jail! Are you joking?”
“No. Hey, it happens to be a good idea. It’s where they met. They could have a theme wedding.”
“Ohhh.” Lilah snapped her fingers. “Of course. I read about theme weddings all the time in
Martha Stewart Living.
Nettie can wear something from the Vera Wang penitentiary collection.”
Sara scowled. “Sarcasm is a sign of weakness.”
Swirling the wine in her glass, Lilah rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Well, I still say—”
When the phone rang, Chase kissed Nettie’s temple. “Good luck,” he murmured, hating to let go of her. At the first opportunity, he would take her aside, just the two of them, to talk.
“Hello.” Grabbing the phone in the kitchen, he had to stick a finger in his ear to hear above the noisy argument behind him. “Nelson! What’s up, man? Are you coming to dinner tonight, too? What? I can’t hear you? Who’s coming over? Who—Wait a minute.” Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, Chase called out, “I’m not dressing like Wild Bill Hickok, Sara. Can you guys keep it down for a minute? Nelson’s on the line, and I can’t hear.”
Lilah and Sara continued the theme-wedding debate, but at lower decibels.
“Okay, Nelson, shoot.” Chase listened as his attorney filled him in on the status of the custody case. His stomach began to churn and sweat tickled his upper lip. “I thought you were going to make sure we had some advance notice.” He paused. “Yeah, well, I’m not talking about two weeks. Anything over two hours would be fine.” His sarcasm was unmistakable. “Yes, I understand spontaneity is the point, but you’re
my
lawyer. Aren’t you supposed to fight for my rights? I know you’re not that kind of lawyer, will you stop saying that!”
The talking in the kitchen ceased. All heads turned toward Chase. Breaking away from the others, Nettie came to stand by his side. Without knowing what had him so riled, she put a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was surprisingly strong, affirming; it communicated support not suppression, but Chase found himself relaxing almost against his own will.
“Sorry,” he said, to the people watching him and into the phone. “I think I need a blood-pressure pill.”
“You have high blood pressure?” Nettie murmured, sounding concerned.
“Only when I’m talking to Nelson.” He offered a quick reassuring smile to Colin and shot a pleading look at Nick.
Taking his hint, the three adults started talking to Colin at the same time.
Chase pulled Nettie into his arms, amazed by the immediate comfort of having her so near. “All right,” he said into the phone. “Tell her we’ll expect her around seven.”
With his arms resting casually on the small of her back and his chin settled on the top of her head, he murmured for Nettie’s ears only, “We’re having company for dessert.”
Dinner was not quite as festive as Nettie had planned. The mood in the little cottage changed considerably when Chase announced that a social worker would be arriving later in the evening to “evaluate” him. Everyone but Colin understood the significance of the meeting. Chase and now Nettie, too, would be scrutinized. All the adults at the table seemed to share their nerves and apprehension. Only Colin, in fact, ate with gusto,
somehow managing to maintain a running monologue about dead outlaws between noisy slurps of spaghetti.
Nelson arrived late, between the salad and pasta courses, and he, too, appeared distracted by concern, so as soon as the last noodle had been twirled, Sara took Colin outside to ride the tractor lawnmower, leaving the others to speak freely.
“We all need to be on the same page,” Nelson said, eyeing them over his steepled fingers. “Being engaged is a good thing, a very good thing. But the timing is suspect. I think it’s important to point out tonight that you two—” he nodded to Nettie and Chase “—began to have strong feelings for each other prior to finding out about Colin.”
“I can vouch for that,” Nick said. “I’ve known Chase for fifteen years, and I saw him falling for Nettie the first night they met.”
Chase looked surprised. And sheepish. He literally squirmed in his chair.
“And Nettie called me a couple of weeks ago absolutely besotted.” Lilah grinned. “I haven’t heard her like that since…” she faltered. “In a long time.”
“I—” Nettie started to protest, but Lilah had, after all, only spoken the truth. Still, she shot her sister a quelling glare.
Chase cocked a brow. “Come on. I’ll confess if you confess.”
Nettie felt four sets of eyes upon her. Her blood heated. Without a chance to speak with Chase alone since his proposal, she felt like a ship being tossed at sea. Nelson wanted them to be “on the same page?” She wasn’t sure they were reading the same book!
Addressing herself to Chase only, she said, “I take the fifth. For now.”
Nick and Lilah grinned. Chase gave her a look that promised he’d weasel a confession from her later.
Nelson shook his head. “No good. The social worker’s name is Georgiana Rees, and Ms. Rees is going to want to hear that this love affair, of which she has not been apprised, was rock solid before there was even the hint of a custody battle. In fact it will send your attorney into paroxysms of joy to learn that you two have been meeting on the sly for a considerable time, say months or even years. Not that I’m advising you to lie, but if Chase visited Nick over the years…”
Chase shook his head.
“…or perhaps Nettie has traveled to New York…” Nettie gestured in the negative. “Or overseas…”
“No. Sorry.”
Nelson tapped an index finger against his lips and looked at his client. “When did you propose?”
“This afternoon. You know that.”
“What I am aware of is that you
announced
your engagement today. I imagine you proposed…” he waved a hand “…a week ago?”
Chase glanced at Nettie. She took a breath and nodded. After all, if the purpose of the engagement was to protect Colin, what difference did it make
when
they got engaged?
Though his distaste for lying couldn’t have been more clear, Chase agreed. He rubbed his eyes, clasped his hands on top of the dining-room table and looked at Nelson. “Why don’t you tell us about our engagement.”
“How come I hafta wear a tie?”
Standing in front of his father, Colin tugged on his too-tight collar and made faces into the mirror. Chase attempted to put a part in his son’s impossibly thick hair, but the comb barely made an impression.
“Because we’re having a guest. It’s a gesture of politeness.”
“We already had guests. We didn’t hafta wear ties for them.”
Chase smiled. Tempting logic. His own tie felt like a noose. “This guest is different,” he said, smoothing a hand over Colin’s hair. He’d had hair like this, too, at Colin’s age, hair that stuck out all over even with the shortest cut. It had driven his ultra-conservative parents crazy.
“Why’s this guest different?”
Chase hadn’t told Colin about the custody dispute. He hoped he never had to tell him. The last thing he wanted to give his son was more instability.
Speaking quietly, while Colin continued to experiment with the myriad shapes a mouth could make, Chase explained, “Nettie and her family are our friends, so we don’t have to be formal with them. But Ms. Rees is sort of a…business acquaintance. She’s coming over to help us.”
“How?” Colin stuck out his tongue and tried to see if he could curl it up at the edges.
“She’s going to make sure I’m taking good care of you. She’ll probably ask you some questions. You okay with that?”
Colin’s tongue retracted quickly, like a lizard’s. He stared solemly at Chase’s reflection in the mirror. “You take good care of me.”
Simple words, but Chase had to consciously remind himself to speak. “Think so?”
Colin nodded. “How come you keep holding my head?”
Chase looked down. His palm still capped Colin’s thick hair. Hmm.
Because it feels good. Chase thought to himself. It feels right to be your parent, to touch and protect you. And because I don’t ever want to stop holding and protecting you…my son. Suddenly Chase remembered all the ways in which he’d tried to measure up when he was a kid—the parent-approved clothes, tamed hair, impeccable manners, the achievements. His achievements had been his defining characteristic.
“What do you want to wear to meet Ms. Rees?” he asked.
Colin mulled it over. “My ‘N Sync T-shirt…no, maybe my purple sweater?” The purple V-neck pullover was a new purchase, not a bad choice at all.
“Go put it on.”
“No tie?”
“No tie.” Chase felt like he’d actually scored a major parental success when Colin whooped and began digging through a dresser drawer. “One more thing,” he said. Colin looked over, and Chase put his hand once more on Colin’s head. This time he mussed up his son’s hair. “That’s better.”
Colin looked in the mirror and grinned up at his dad.
With hugs for good luck, Sara, Lilah, Nick and finally Nelson left the cottage, intending to wait at Nick’s place till the coast was clear. Nettie knew she should talk to Chase alone before the social worker arrived. Trying to calm herself had been an uphill battle all afternoon. The knot in her stomach felt like the boulder in
Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Prepping for their interview, Nettie slicked on lipstick, although
“slick” was a misnomer. She dabbed her lips with the tube whenever her quaking hand got close enough to make contact.
Lowering the lipstick, she rested her palms on the bathroom sink and took a deep breath. She’d been extra jittery for days, which seemed pretty normal under the circumstances, but she knew there was something more tweaking her emotions. It was hard to concentrate on anything lately. She felt sad and clingy, and several times this week she’d wanted to cry for no obvious reason.
Nettie examined her eyes in the mirror. Red and puffy. Maybe she was coming down with something or it was time for her period or…
Oh.
“It’s August fourteenth.” The awareness hit her like a moving freight train. Tucker’s birthday was on the sixteenth.
“How could I have forgotten?” She thumped the heel of her hand on the porcelain sink. What kind of mother simply forgot? What kind of mother didn’t even think about her child’s birthday until she was practically right up on it?
Each year Nettie picked out a gift, something small, something Tuck would have liked at the age he would have been. Should have been. All at once the memory of putting the photo of herself and Brian into the desk drawer came rushing back.
“It’s our baby’s birthday,” she whispered, wishing that somehow, somewhere Brian could hear her. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture a heaven in which her husband and son would be together on Tuck’s birthday, eating Tuck’s favorite cake and remembering how birthdays used to be. And maybe thinking of her for a few minutes and feeling how much she loved them.
Opening her eyes again, she wondered what Brian would think of her current situation. Pretending to be engaged for the sake of a child. Infatuated with the father. Living a temporary fantasy.
“You always said I overcomplicated things.” She smiled, but an uncomfortable heaviness grew in the pit of her stomach.
She tried to put a name to the feeling. It wasn’t guilt. Brian would never begrudge her the chance to be happy. He’d been an uncomplicated man, incapable of severe judgment or blame. She might think the dance of hello and goodbye had the most
intricate steps, but he would have said the pattern was simple: just listen to the music and don’t fight the beat.
The doorbell rang. Nettie jumped, sending the tube of lipstick clattering into the sink. She checked her watch. Seven on the dot. The boulder in her tummy transformed into a hundred fluttering butterflies. Ms. Georgiana Rees, MSW, had arrived.