Authors: Barbara Bretton
iii
"You look beautiful," said Sam early Sunday evening. "Radiant."
Caroline leaned forward to look into the mirror, then grimaced. "I look bilious."
"You're glowing."
"I'm retaining water," said Caroline. "Two months along and my feet are turning into paper weights."
Sam surveyed Caroline from her head to her feet, taking in the severely chic Grace Kelly chignon, the oyster white silk suit, the pale hose and kid shoes. She nodded with approval. "Charlie is going to be knocked off his feet, kiddo."
"Only if the governor calls with a reprieve."
Sam glared at her. "I don't think gallows humor is exactly the thing for your wedding day, do you?"
Caroline glared right back and wiped an imaginary smudge of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. "This isn't your run-of-the-mill wedding day or haven't you noticed?"
"All I've noticed is that two of my favorite people in the world are getting married."
Caroline turned around in her chair and took her friend's hands in her own. Sam's hands were sweaty. Caroline's were dry and cool. "We don't love each other, Samantha. We never have and we never will. This is strictly a marriage-of-convenience. We intend to dissolve it soon after the baby is born."
"That's a long time from now," Sam pointed out. "Anything could happen between now and then."
"Right," said Caroline, adjusting the peplum of her suit jacket. "Like we might kill each other."
She and Charlie had been at each other's throats these past few days. He had the notion in his head that they should actually
live
together and there was nothing she could do to dissuade him. He suggested she move into his ramshackle cottage in Rocky Hill but she pointed out that pregnant women rarely fared well in unheated bedrooms once the cold weather came along.
Charlie had conceded her point and she'd thought she was halfway home when he said, "Looks like we'll be living in your place then." She'd almost swooned at the idea of this big, swaggering hunk of male superiority filling up her elegant garden apartment condo on the outskirts of Princeton proper.
"Aren't you taking this a bit far?" she had asked, striving for the right note of amusement in her voice. "I mean, no one will care if we live together or not. It's no one's business."
Charlie paid no attention to anything she had to say. He steamrollered over each of her objections in turn, pointing out that she'd need someone around to do the heavy stuff as her pregnancy advanced.
"I have money," she said. "I'll hire someone."
"Hire me," said Charlie. "I work cheap and some of the benefits are pretty damn good."
How it was she hadn't killed him right on the spot was beyond her. He was insufferable, opinionated, self-righteous, and easily the most irritating male it had been her misfortune to know.
And in less than fifteen minutes he would be her husband.
#
Charlie had planned on showing up at Murphy's house in pressed jeans and a cotton sweater, but his boss had set him straight. "Do it for your future loved ones," he said, while Charlie searched for a decent suit to wear to his wedding. "Don't want any ugly pictures passed down from generation to generation."
Charlie stopped in his tracks. "What made you say that?"
Bill grinned. "That disgusting fleabag sweater you're wearing, that's what. You could break a camera with that thing."
Charlie ignored the jibe. "I'm talking about the pictures. What makes you think I'm going to have anybody to pass things down to?"
"It's the thing to do.
Sooner or later most of us get around to adding to the planet. Why should you be different?"
So that's what this was all about. "You know about the baby?"
"I didn't think it was a secret."
"It's not. I'm just surprised."
"Sam told me."
Charlie nodded. "I suppose she thinks her matchmaking finally hit pay dirt."
"She
is
looking pretty pleased with herself these days."
He wanted to say that Sam should enjoy herself while she could because the marriage was a temporary deal but he held his tongue. No matter what the situation, this was their wedding day. He might as well do his best to enjoy it.
Of course, that was easier said than done.
As soon as he pulled up in front of Murphy and Sam's house and saw the white banner draped across the front door, he wanted to gun the engine and bolt for the state line.
Play it out,
he warned himself.
This isn't going to last forever.
Sam greeted him at the door with a bear hug that felt more like the Heimlich maneuver. "I'm so happy for the both of you," she said, acting as if this were the culmination of the love affair of the century.
"Yeah," said Charlie, feeling the yoke of domesticity, however temporary, tightening around his shoulders. "Thanks."
Patty, her red hair bobbing about her narrow shoulders, raced up to him. She wore a very grown-up looking pink dress and she carried a basket of flowers. "We're tossing these instead of rice," she said in that matter-of-fact tone of hers that used to unnerve him. "Rice isn't healthy for the birds."
Patty was a bona fide genius. If she started explaining environmental issues as they pertained to avians, he'd be up the creek without a paddle. "Great, Patty," he said instead. "I bet Caroline's going to love that."
Patty's freckled face grew more serious. "Actually, Aunt Caroline says it isn't necessary to resort to tradition and toss anything at her." Her cheeks reddened slightly. "After all, fertility rites aren't necessary."
Charlie choked on his own spit.
"Are you okay?" asked Patty. "I learned how to administer CPR in health class."
"I'm fine. You--" He narrowed his eyes at the child, wondering if just maybe she was a midget in disguise. "You know about the baby?"
She stood up straight and tall. "Of course I do. My mom doesn't believe in hiding the facts of life."
"Yeah, well, it isn't your mom who's having the baby."
For once the brilliant Patty O'Rourke was without an answer. He took that as his chance to make a getaway.
He didn't get far. Bill and his second wife were waiting for him near the archway to the living room.
"Getting nervous?" asked Bill, clapping Charlie on the back.
"Not much," Charlie lied. He glanced into the living room and saw baskets of flowers, flickering candles, and a harpist. A sense of doom settled over him like a winter coat. "Where's Caroline?"
Sam appeared at his side. "Don't worry, Charlie. She'll be back any moment."
Charlie's stomach did a back flip. "What do you mean, she'll be back? Where did she go?
Sam gave him a reassuring pat on
his forearm. "She left her earrings at home."
Was everyone crazy or just him? What the hell kind of crazy stunt was that, bolting from the ceremony to get some damn fool pair of earrings.
"I hear her car," said Sam, cocking her head to the side. Her smile was triumphant. "I told you she'd be back on time." Sam clapped her hands together and called for attention. "Places everybody. The wedding is about to begin."
Charlie watched in shock as a score of people streamed into the house through the French doors at the far end of the living room. Scotty and his lady friend. Bill's bowling pals. Two of Patty's schoolmates. Most of Murphy and Sam's neighbors. A man in a dark blue suit who looked like he could be the judge Caroline had arranged to perform the ceremony. They took their places on either side of the length of white carpet bisecting the floor from archway to exit. They turned and faced him. The expressions on their faces could best be described as "expectant."
He wondered what they would do if he ran the 4:40 through that living room and sailed through the French doors without saying goodbye. For a good five seconds he was tempted to give it a shot but the harpist took her chair and began to play and he realized he couldn't vault the instrument without doing major bodily harm to himself.
Show time.
#
"I'm going to be sick." Caroline forced a deep breath into her lungs. "I need some air."
"You're fine," said Sam, smoothing the back of Caroline's hair. "You're just nervous."
"I am not," Caroline protested. "There's nothing to be nervous about." This was strictly a business matter. Nothing more, nothing less. She and Charlie were doing the right thing for their baby and, once the baby was born, they would undo it as fast as they possibly could. "What on earth is wrong with this place? It's freezing in here."
"We have central air-conditioning," said Sam with a laugh. "What
you
have is known as cold feet."
Caroline started to argue the point but decided against it. Her teeth were chattering too much for her to say a thing. She followed her friend down the hallway, aware of the sound their shoes made as they scraped softly against the polished wood flooring. And then she became aware of another sound.
She stopped dead in her tracks, halfway to the living room. "You hired a harpist!"
Sam shrugged and refused to meet Caroline's eyes. "Mrs. Duryea needed the practice."
"Frances Duryea is with the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra."
Sam's gaze guiltily slid right past her best friend. "So I thought we needed a little music for the occasion. Is it a crime?"
"I told you we wanted to keep this as simple as possible, Sam. Didn't you hear anything I said?"
"It's your first marriage, Caroline. That means something."
"Maybe under normal circumstances it does, but this is different."
This time Sam's dark blue eyes met Caroline's head on. "Either way you're going to remember this for the rest of your life. Why not having something nice to look back on?"
Caroline had no answer for that. She knew there was something specious about her friend's argument but she was hard-pressed to articulate exactly what that was. The harpist segued into an incredibly slow, rococo version of
Here Comes the Bride
as Caroline glided into the archway to the living room. The music was so sweet it set her teeth on edge, but as it turned out, the harp music was the least of it. Sam had invited everyone on Worthington Street to the ceremony, in addition to Scotty and the rest of the crew from O'Rourke's Bar and Grill. What had happened to keeping this as simple and low-keyed as possible?
"Thanks a lot," she hissed at Sam who was a few feet ahead of her. "Why didn't you put an ad in the local paper while you were at it?"
Sam just smiled and continued making her way toward where Donohue and the judge awaited them.
At last Caroline took her place next to Donohue. She'd been so upset by the music and the crowd that it hadn't dawned on her that he wasn't clad in his usual jeans and t-shirt. Instead he was resplendent in dark pants, immaculate white shirt, dark tie, and jacket. His hair was combed neatly; his expression was somber. If it hadn't been for the worn Reeboks on his feet she wouldn't have recognized him.
"I had nothing to do with this," she whispered as the judge paged through his book in search of the wedding ceremony. "It was all Sam's idea."
Donohue looked skeptical and she couldn't blame him. She considered asking for an intermission so she could wring Sam's neck. The judge, however, found his place, cleared his throat, then cast his gaze upon the crowd. "If there is anyone among you who can show good reason why these two people should not be joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace."
This is insane!
screamed Caroline.
Somebody stop us because we don't know what we're doing.
What the hell am I doing here?
Charlie wondered.
Nobody put a shotgun to my head.
But the moment passed and neither one uttered a sound. The judge continued, each word taking Caroline and Charlie closer and closer to wedded bliss.
"I, Charles, take you, Caroline..."
"...to be my wedded husband...to have and to hold..."
"By the power vested in me by the State of New Jersey, it is my pleasure to pronounce you man and wife."
The harpist launched into a lusty
Lohengrin
. The wedding guests burst into spontaneous cheers. Caroline and Charlie stared at each other with something approaching terror.
The judge gave Charlie a hearty pat on the back. "Go on, young man. It's now legal to kiss your beautiful bride."
The beautiful bride wanted to stick a sock in the judge's mouth. Why didn't people just leave newlyweds alone?
"Go ahead," she said through her frozen smile. "They already have too much to talk about as it is."
"We could always shake hands," said Charlie.
Caroline couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Charlie's vivid green eyes crinkled with mirth. Their first seconds as Mr. and Mrs. Donohue had passed without a hitch. Maybe there was hope for the next
six months.