Chapter 10
Jack
SINCE I’M ALREADY finished getting ready— and way too anxious to sit still—I pander around the house completing various tasks off my typical to-do list while I wait for Nora to get ready. Feed my cat, clean the breakfast dishes, stare out my back window and feel a familiar sharp pang that there are no longer horses in my barn to care for. I had to sell them a few months ago to help pay my sister Joy’s group home bills. Fat lot of good it did me, though, since I’ve already got another bill for this past month’s care in my email inbox. Which is why the next step is going to have to be selling this place. Hence the no burying Ian’s body in my backyard.
It occurs to me for the first time that my money problems are probably something I should disclose to Nora before we get married. After all, once we’re husband and wife, my money problems become her money problems. A pit forms in my stomach. I definitely should’ve thought of this last night. What a gross oversight on my part. I pivot away from the window and hurry down the hall to her room.
“Nora!” I call her name as I approach her door.
“Hold on a minute!” she shouts back. “I’m not quite ready.”
I pause outside the door, glancing down at my watch to check the time. It’s already 7:10. We don’t have any extra time for a sit down discussion. Although it might actually be easier to tell her this through the door. That way I won’t have to see the pity on her face when she finds out the truth.
“I have something to talk to you about,” I say through the door. “Can you listen and get ready at the same time?”
There’s a thump on the other side of the door, like she’s dropped something, but then she calls, “Sure, sure. Go ahead. I’m listening.”
I inhale deeply. “You remember Joy?” I start off with.
“You mean your sister?” Nora says with a small laugh. “Of course I remember her. I love Joy. How is she doing? Is something wrong?”
“Nah, no. Nothing’s wrong.” I rake a hand anxiously through my hair. “The thing is, my mom passed away last year and because of my unpredictable work schedule, I had to move Joy into a group home.”
“Oh, Jack.” Suddenly I hear her voice right on the other side of the door. “I didn’t know about your mom. I’m so sorry.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, my vision constricting as tears threaten. After losing my dad when he got shot in the line of duty five years ago, losing my mom felt like the deepest level of unfairness. But considering Nora was raised by her grandparents after her teenage mother skipped town and her father refused to take her—I have no real grounds for complaint.
“Thank you. It was very difficult for both of us, losing her, but we’re healing slowly but surely.” The knob of the door twists, like she’s going to come out, but I put my hand on my side of the knob, holding it shut. “Just, please, let me finish,” I say a little desperately. The tension on the knob goes away, but I keep my hand in place, needing to be sure she can’t surprise me by popping out to see my weakness.
“Anyway, Joy gets some state funding through Medicaid, but the level of care she needs is extensive. I-I-” Again I swallow, this time because I’m struggling to even say the words out loud. “I’ve been having a tough time keeping up with all of the bills,” I rush out. My pride is like a puny kid in the middle of a group of bullies, doubling over on himself as he endures kick after kick, no end in sight.
“Oh Jack,” Nora whispers so softly I almost miss it. I bite my lip, my free hand fisting at my side as I fight the feelings of inadequacy rearing their ugly heads inside of me.
“Anyway,” I force my voice to sound unaffected, “it occurred to me that I really should’ve told you all of this last night, you know, before you agreed to marry me.” I cough. “So, uh, now that you do know, I understand if you want to change your mind.”
There’s silence on the other end of the door for so long that I start to think maybe she didn’t hear me.
Or that maybe she did hear me and consequently crawled out the window to get the heck away from me and my problems.
But before I can investigate the possibility, she speaks. “Jack, please let me out.”
I stare down at the hand still holding the door shut. It starts to shake, my body threatened by her request, begging me to not do as she asks. But I never have been able to refuse Nora anything, so I yank my hand back. A second later the door swings open and Nora stands before me. Her hair is still wet from her shower and she’s wrapped in the bathrobe I stuffed into her bag on a whim—remembering how much she used to like to wear it over her clothes in the winter. She looks like a perfect vision of the way I’d like to start all my mornings from now on. Cozy and sweet and achingly beautiful.
What could she ever want with a man like me?
“Jack Reynolds,” she says softly, “why on earth would you think that finding out that you take care of your family would make me change my mind about marrying you?” Her words, so low in volume, are nonetheless fierce and determined, ringing with finality. I’m in awe of her grace and kindness.
I clench my jaw, refusing to be swept away by the force of my emotions. I can’t let her quiet show of strength expose my vulnerabilities any further.
“Alright then,” I say. “As long as you’re sure.”
A muscle in her own jaw ticks, as if I’ve irritated her, but then her face settles back into a neutral expression and she nods. “I’m sure,” she says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to get ready for.” She steps back and swings the door quietly shut, leaving me standing there alone with my failures.
***
“NORA!” I CALL HER name down the hall for the third time in as many minutes, checking my watch again. 7:29.
We need to go. On a good day I can get to City Hall in approximately 24 minutes. But today is not a day where I feel like taking chances with my time. Nora and I need to get married ASAP, and I don’t want traffic or long lines at City Hall or—I don’t know— one of my friends deciding to show up at my front door to check and see why I haven’t answered their calls to get in our way. In addition to Stafford’s multiple calls, my friends Montgomery and Anderson have both called me now too, which means it’s only a matter of time before one of them shows up to my house.
“Coming, coming!” Her voice breezes down the hall, followed shortly thereafter by her appearance in front of me. “How do I look?” she says with a small laugh and a half-turn of her body.
I don’t answer. Can’t answer. Staring at her is all I’m currently capable of because—wow. She looks gorgeous.
She chose the green dress. That’s the one I hoped she’d pick. Not that I took a play out of my buddy Anderson’s book and chose the green tie I’ve got on for that reason. I did not do that. I don’t care about matching her.
She’s done her hair in some sort of half-up, half-down style and the loose ends hit right at her collar bone, dancing along it with every tiny movement of her body. Her makeup is minimal– probably because when I went into her bathroom last night I had no idea what to grab so I simply took a handful of stuff from her top drawer and threw it in the bag–but to me she looks beautiful without any makeup at all.
“Jack?” Nora prompts. “Did you hear me? How do I look?”
I glance away from her as I search for my voice. “You look fine,” I finally grunt. “Let’s go.”
I look back over at her just in time to see her smile dip down. Guilt pokes me in the stomach. We may be headed to our fake wedding, but perhaps I still could’ve told her how beautiful she looks. It’s my darn pride that’s keeping me from saying the words. Can’t she see that?
I’m a wounded man, and she’s the one that inflicted the wounds. But despite my hurt, I’m barreling forward with this fake marriage…for her. I feel pathetic enough about that as it is; adding compliments about her appearance to the mix would only serve to make me feel even more pitiful. Especially after my earlier confession to her. That coupled with the purpose of this marriage being to silence my testimony makes me feel as if I’m tricking her into marrying me.
I am about to marry a woman who I love, but who doesn't love me in return. And who may never love me in return. Am I okay with that?
I don't know. All I know is that I can't add insult to injury by giving away my true feelings at this stage of the game. So there will be no compliments.
We head out to my car in silence. I open the door for her and she slides inside, freezing in between her seat and the door to look up at me. “Sorry about earlier with the, uh, clothes,” she says. “I appreciate you getting my things for me, I just…” she heaves a big breath, then blows it out, “I don’t know. The idea of someone in my condo, looking through my things…it threw me a bit. I’m a private person.”
“You are?” This admission surprises me. She’s never struck me as particularly private. Sure, she doesn’t have social media, but I guess I thought this was just because she is forever forgetting to take pictures, so she doesn’t really have anything to post. When we dated, any picture we took was at my suggestion.
“Private enough,” she says with a shrug, eyes darting away from mine in a way that suggests she’s lying. Her getting upset about me going through her drawers had nothing to do with her need for privacy. So what then? Is it really just about the underwear? Because that seems unlikely given the number of times she brought laundry to my house for what she called “a folding party,” which was not so much a party as it was the two of us folding her laundry. She always offered to help fold mine, but honestly the woman folds laundry like a small child. Anyway, the point is, I’ve seen her underwear before.
Although it’s gotten a lot pinker and lacier in the last three years.
I trip over nothing as I make my way around to my side of the car.
I give my body a little shake. These types of lustful thoughts about my future wife are not appropriate.
In an alternate reality where she’d said yes to me three years ago and we were getting married for real, sure. But this is a fake marriage, so I’m going to do my best to keep my thoughts God-honoring and Nora-honoring.
I situate myself in my seat, then pull out of my garage. The tension eases from my shoulders as I merge onto the main road. I really was worried about someone from the force showing up at my doorstep, but now that we’re on our way to City Hall, I feel much more relaxed. A feeling that vanishes in an instant when a red Jeep appears in my rearview mirror.
At first, I ignore it. Lots of people have red Jeeps, so just because Stafford’s wife, Lucy, has a red Jeep doesn’t mean that it’s her behind us. But when it continues along behind us as we exit the highway to downtown, my anxiety starts to rise.
“What do you keep looking at in your mirror?” Nora asks astutely. She swivels in her seat to take a peek for herself.
“Nothing,” I lie, refocusing on the road. I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily. Even if it is Lucy, she probably isn’t following me on purpose. We pull up to a red light, and I flick my blinker on. I can’t help but sneak a glance behind me to check whether or not the Jeep is also going right. It is. And now that it’s stopped right behind me I can see who’s driving it. My heart sinks in my chest.
It’s Lucy.
“You absolutely are looking at something!” Nora exclaims. “Is it that Jeep behind us?” She looks over at me. “Do you know the woman driving it?”
“I know her alright,” I mutter, considering my options. I can keep driving to City Hall and hope she doesn't notice I’m in front of her. Unlike her brightly colored Jeep, my car isn’t particularly distinguishable. She might turn off at any point to go elsewhere. A mere blip in our plan rather than a complete catastrophe. Another option would be for me to get back on the highway, which would determine if she’s actually following me or if it’s simply a coincidence that we’ve been heading in the same direction for five minutes.
“And the other woman? The one in the passenger seat? Do you know her too?” Nora asks. There’s a note of annoyance in her voice that I can’t fathom the cause of. I glance back again and my heart sinks even lower. Emily. Montgomery’s wife.
Great. Just great. Two of my best friends’ wives are in the car behind us. Did Stafford and Montgomery send them to follow me? To see why I haven’t answered their calls?
“I know her too,” I grunt, hands tightening on the wheel.
“I see.” Nora settles back in her seat, picking invisible lint from the skirt of her dress. “You’ve been a busy man in the years we’ve been apart. Lots of new, uh, friends.”
Despite my anxiety, a snort escapes from my lips. So that’s what’s bothering her? She thinks I dated these women? The amount of satisfaction I get from this display of something that’s at least akin to jealousy–if not actual jealousy–over my dating life is not something I’m proud of.
“Those women are Stafford’s wife and Montgomery’s wife,” I tell her.
“Oh.” This first “oh” is one of relief, but it’s quickly followed by a second “oh” of comprehension. “Ohhh.” She whips around once again. “Do you think they’re following us? Did Stafford and Montgomery send them? Can you lose them?”
“You want me to try and lose them?” I repeat incredulously.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Is that something you do? Precision driving or whatnot?”
“While I do have some level of skill at precision driving,” I tell her, “I’m not sure that’s the right call here. I don’t want to raise their suspicions any further. There might be a completely logical explanation for why they’re behind us that has nothing to do with you or me. Heck, they might not even realize it’s me they’re driving behind.”
There’s a honk from behind us, then Nora whips back around, sinking in her seat. “I think they know it’s you,” she whispers. “They’re waving.”
I check in my rearview mirror and see that she’s right. Lucy and Emily are both waving enthusiastically at us.
Great.
Two more turns and we’ll reach the street City Hall is on, so I have to make a decision one way or another. The speed limit here is only 25. This does not exactly lend itself to precision driving.
“You’d better wave back,” Nora hisses. “They’ll think something is up if you don’t.”
“They’ll also think something is up if I wave and then zoom away.”
“So what should we do?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. Maybe we can talk our way out of this. After all, we were going to have to spin a story to everyone later anyway. Might as well get that story straight.”
“Yeah. Okay.” She nods. “We reconnected last night. Decided to get married. You lost your phone. Those are the bullet points, right?” She frowns, continuing before I can answer. “Are you sure your friends will believe that? It seems a little uncharacteristic of you to rush into something like this.”
Seeing as they rag on me every other week for still carrying a torch for her, my friends will have no trouble believing I’d rush into a marriage with Nora. But I can’t very well admit that to her. So instead I go on the defensive.
“Seeing as we haven’t been together for three years, I’m not sure you’re really able to speak to what is or is not characteristic of me,” I bite out.
My words are met with silence.
“You’re right,” she finally says. “I’m sorry.”
I only grunt in response, not trusting my words.
“Right–” I start to add more, but as I make the next turn, Emily and Lucy continue straight, waving back to us as we go.
“They went straight,” Nora says unnecessarily. “They weren’t following us.”
I let out a long breath. “I guess not. Still, we’d better hurry. They’ll be calling their husbands in no time to tell them they saw me with a woman.”
“Oh?” Nora lifts a hand to fiddle with her hair. “Is that unusual, seeing you with a woman?”
There she goes again, showing far more interest in my recent dating life than I would’ve expected her to. I hate the hope I feel inside from this. I can’t let myself read into it too much. I have to guard my heart. She made it clear to me three years ago that she didn’t want to marry me. Maybe she has some unresolved or residual feelings that she carries for me, but nothing strong enough to bring her back to me for anything other than a full-on life emergency.
“I don’t have much time for dating,” I say vaguely, “so, I haven’t made it a priority.” It’s true enough. Sure it’s been hard watching my friends pair off these last couple of years while I remain single (and continue to pine after Nora), but, as I told Nora earlier, things with my sister have really intensified in recent months. Because of that, I haven’t even thought about trying to go out with anyone.
Well that and the pining thing.
It’s hard to get your head back into the dating scene when your heart isn’t interested.
“Oh.” Nora’s new favorite word for the morning. “Well, same here,” she says casually. “Not much time for dating. Too busy at work.”
Since I purposefully did not ask about her dating life, I’m not sure why she’s telling me about it; but now that she has told me I have to fight to keep my expression neutral. Any man would be happy to find out his soon-to-be wife isn’t dating anyone, though, so it’s understandable that I’m struggling not to smile.
I pull into an open spot in the City Hall parking lot, happy to see it’s pretty empty. Hopefully that means we’ll get in and out of here quickly.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Nora. She takes a deep breath as she eyes the building in front of us.
“I think I should be the one asking you that,” she replies, “seeing as you’re the one sacrificing your romantic life on my account.”
“Eh,” I say lightly, “like I said, didn’t have much of one anyway.” A soft smile plays across her lips and I have to yank my gaze off of her before I get caught staring.
“Thank you, Jack,” she whispers, drawing my gaze right back to her.
My mouth forms a straight line as I nod once. Twice. Three times. Then I get out of the car without giving her a verbal response. Why? Because I am a total jerk who is completely in love with his almost marriage-of-convenience wife and I cannot let her find out.
Hurrying around to her side of the car I pull the door open, then snap it shut behind her. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter, stuffing my hands into my pockets before they can get any ideas about grabbing ahold of one of hers.
Nora nods. Her smile is gone, replaced by an anxious frown.
I lead her up the steps of the building, glancing at my watch to check the time. We’ve only got a minute before the building opens, but thankfully there’s nobody else gathered outside waiting for the doors to be opened.
“Reynolds!” The familiar voice of Lucy Stafford makes my body freeze in panic. I rotate slowly and see that at some point while we were walking from my car to the building, Lucy and Emily arrived on the scene.
“Lucy, Emily,” I greet them with an over-the-top jovial voice designed to hide the fact that inside I’m a swirling mess of worry. “Saw you guys behind us, but then you kept going so I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“Oh, yeah. I was navigating and I forgot to pay attention,” Emily says, pulling a whoops face. “So then we missed our turn.”
“I would’ve followed you if I’d known you were headed here too,” Lucy says with a laugh. “What are you doing here anyway?” Her gaze slides questioningly over to Nora, but I cut in before she can ask who she is.
“Me? What are you guys doing here on a Thursday morning?” I shove my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that the adrenaline coursing through my body is making them shake. It doesn’t seem like they know anything about their husbands finding a dead body on my ex-girlfriend’s front lawn–because surely they would have mentioned something like that by now–but I can’t be sure. And that possibility is responsible for the fight or flight response my body is having to their presence.
“We both have tickets to pay,” Lucy replies, settling her hands over the tiny bump of her abdomen.
“You got another parking ticket?” I ask Lucy, praying my voice sounds normal.
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Excuse me,” she says primly, “but don’t you think more stores should have expectant mother parking? Is it my fault if I have to improvise when places don’t?”
“Lucy, you parked on the store’s sidewalk,” Emily says with a laugh.
“I only had to grab one thing!” Lucy cries. “I was going to be in and out in no time! Anyway, you’re one to talk, Miss ‘Oh, Reed, please, please, please ask them to waive my speeding ticket again. I promise it will be the last time!’”
“That’s a ridiculously long last name,” Emily replies with a poke to her friend’s arm. She sighs. “Too bad he said no this time.”
“Maybe he wants your license to get suspended again so he has to drive you everywhere,” Lucy says thoughtfully. “You know, since the two of you are trying to have a baby.”
“How are those two things related?” Emily asks. “We’re an adult married couple; it’s not like we’re going to make a baby in the backseat of the car.”
“Emily!” Lucy tsks. “I meant because he wants to keep you safe. No offense, but speeding is dangerous.”
“I’m a very careful driver,” Emily replies. “All of my speeding takes place on empty backroads.”
“You do know you can pay your tickets online, don’t you?” I interject, still hoping to get them out of here. And also to not hear any more baby making talk from my best friends’ wives.
“We could pay the tickets online, yes,” Lucy agrees, turning back to us.
“If we knew where they were,” Emily finishes. “But Lucy lost hers, and I stuck mine to the dashboard of Reed’s car yesterday thinking he might take pity on me and try and get it voided.”
“But instead he didn’t even notice it there until he rolled down his window and it flew out,” Lucy supplies with a laugh.
“So here we are to pay our fines in person,” Emily concludes.
“And then we’re going to breakfast with Becca and Mel,” Lucy adds. “Magically all of us have the morning off.” She turns her gaze expectantly our way. “So what are you doing here?” she asks again. “And who’s this?” She gestures to Nora, looking more than a little curious.
“Oh, her,” I say stupidly. “She’s my friend.”
All three women shoot me weird looks. Probably because it was weird that I didn’t say her name. I don’t want to say her name, though. If I say her name then Lucy and Emily will exclaim in surprise about finally meeting the famous Nora, and then probably exchange a meaningful look, and then Nora will know that three years after our breakup she’s still being talked about enough by me that my friends’ wives–who’ve never met her–know who she is.
Although they’re going to find out who she is eventually considering we’re getting married. Not to mention she’s involved in their husbands’ most recent murder investigation. Yeah, that’s going to come out too. I’m pretty shocked that they don’t already seem to know.
Then again, it was the middle of the night when their husbands got called to the scene. Knowing Stafford, he wouldn’t have wanted to wake his pregnant wife, especially since she had such a rough first trimester and is only now starting to feel better. I’m not sure why Montgomery wouldn’t have told Emily, though. He tells her everything. Last week he called her just to tell her what he had for lunch.
“Don’t be so coy, babe,” Nora says, sidling up to me and wrapping her arm through mine. “I’m not just his friend, I’m his fiancée.” She gives them both a big smile, as if it is perfectly normal and expected that I have a fiancée neither of them know about. “We’re headed inside to get married.”
There's half a second of silence then both women explode with questions.
“Wait, what?” Lucy cries. “You’re getting married...today?”
“Reynolds, you have a fiancée?” Emily exclaims. “How did we not know about this?”
“Does Nate know?” This comes from Lucy. “Because if he knew and he didn’t tell me, we are going to have words.” Horror dawns on her face. “Oh my gosh, unless he did tell me and I forgot. Baby brain has really been hitting me hard lately.”
“Well, Reed didn’t tell me, that’s for sure!” Emily huffs.
“Hey, guys.” I hold up a hand. “They didn’t know, okay? This was sort of a spontaneous thing.”
They exchange a look. “A spontaneous thing,” Lucy echoes incredulously—probably because, despite what I said to Nora earlier about having changed, the truth is I am actually still very much not spontaneous.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Emily declares. “You’re not spontaneous.” Next to me Nora lets out a tiny laugh. “Not that that’s a bad thing,” Emily hurries to add. “I myself appreciate the satisfaction of having a good plan.”
“Who doesn’t?” Nora agrees with another laugh. “But you’re absolutely right. Jack has always had too good of a head on his shoulders to be given to fits of whimsy.” She squeezes my arm, looking up at me with so much adoration in her eyes my heart swells in my chest. But then I pop it right back to its normal size by reminding myself that she is acting. The adoration is for Emily and Lucy’s benefit, not mine. “Which, of course, is what made it all the more romantic and meaningful when he agreed to my crazy idea to get married today.”
There’s more silence from Emily and Lucy. Silence and lots of blinking, as if they’re both still convinced this is all a dream and they’re trying to wake themselves up.
“Okay, but who even are you?” Lucy asks, then blushes. “Sorry, that came out ruder than I intended. I just meant, what’s your name?”
“And how do you know Reynolds?” Emily adds. Their gazes have turned suspicious. Which is both touching and annoying at the same time. What do they think she’s after, my money or something? Ha! If only they knew how much my savings have been depleted by my sister’s living expenses. Besides, I’m a detective, not like I make the big bucks to begin with.
Nora actually seems annoyed by the interrogation as well. I can tell she’s trying to hide it with a plastered-on smile, but her grip on my arm has tightened and there’s an almost imperceptible narrowing to her eyes.
“Actually, I’ve known Jack,” she emphasizes her use of my first name, “for years. We used to date.”
Alarm bells start ringing in my head. This is the point where I should swoop in and announce that this is my ex, Nora. The one I’ve only mentioned once, maybe twice—right, ladies? But before I can give them this pointed hint, Lucy beats me to the punch, outing me for the lovesick fool I am.
“Oh my gosh, you’re Nora! The Nora!” she exclaims in delight. “I can’t believe it! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
Great. Just great. I don’t dare look at Nora to see how she’s reacting to this evidence of my unrequited feelings for her.
“Nora!” Emily chimes in, gasping with delight, thereby piling onto the heap of embarrassment I’m already buried under. “Ah! This is so exciting! We’ve all been rooting for you two to get back together and now you have! And not only that, but you’re getting married! We have to tell Mel. You know Mel, right, Nora?” She fumbles around in her purse, pulling out her phone. “Oh shoot!” she exclaims in dismay as she presses the button on the side. “I forgot my phone died. I never charged it last night.” She grimaces. “I hope Reed hasn’t been trying to get a hold of me. I haven’t seen him since he disappeared in the middle of the night on some case. He still wasn’t back this morning.” She eyes me. “You know anything about last night’s case, Reynolds?”
I freeze, temporarily forgetting my embarrassment over their Nora display. “Last night’s case,” I squeak. “Nope. Haven’t heard anything about it. I’m off-duty.”
“Plus he lost his phone,” Nora pipes up helpfully. I finally chance it and look down at her. She’s smiling sunnily at Emily and Lucy, looking like the cat that caught the canary. Perfect. Somehow–despite the fact that we're getting married to protect her from being convicted of murder–she’s turned the tables on me and now she has the upperhand headed into this marriage. All because my best friends can’t keep quiet about the personal matters of my heart.
Oh, who am I kidding? She's had the upperhand all along.
Emily sighs, looking down at the black screen of her phone. “Maybe I should call Reed and make sure everything is okay. Lucy, can I borrow your phone?”
“No!” Nora and I both cry in unison. Emily and Lucy swivel their heads to stare at us in shock.
“I mean, no,” I say more calmly. “Please don’t call him. We, uh, want our wedding to be a surprise.”
“A surprise? Why?” Lucy asks with a frown. “The whole point of a wedding is to celebrate your union surrounded by family and friends.”
“Usually yes, but part of the reason Nora and I decided to elope was to avoid the hoopla of a big wedding.”
“Avoid the hoopla,” Lucy echoes in confusion. “But why?”
Why? Good question. I scramble for a response, then hear myself echo Nora’s earlier words to me. “Nora is a private person.”
“Oh.” Lucy looks unsatisfied by this.
“Yup,” Nora agrees. “That’s me. Private, private, private.”
Lucy frowns in disapproval, but then quickly rearranges her expression when Emily elbows her in the side. “Our friend Becca is the same way,” Emily says kindly. “She really values her privacy.”
“That’s true,” Lucy agrees. “Although she’s still having a wedding,” she says this almost hopefully, like maybe we’ll change our minds upon hearing it.
“We’re getting married here at City Hall today, Lucy,” I say with finality.
Lucy sighs heavily but then perks up. “You at least need witnesses, though, right?” She moves a finger between herself and Emily. “Look, witnesses!”
Nora laughs and, in spite of myself, so do I. Lucy is nothing if not persistent.
I look down at Nora and she gives me a one-shouldered shrug as if to say, why not?
“Okay, fine,” I say, turning back to them. “You two can be our witnesses.”
“Yes!” Lucy exclaims with a victorious side arm pump. She closes the distance between herself and Nora, then pulls her into a tight hug. At first Nora stiffens in surprise, but then she relaxes, lifting her own arms up to hug Lucy back.
“Wait for me!” Emily exclaims before adding herself to the hug. I look away from them before I get all sappy and emotional.
“Sorry to rush this,” I say when they still haven’t stopped hugging sixty seconds later, “but as I said, Nora and I would like to get married, you know— today.”
The women all laugh as they pull apart.
“We get it—you gotta lock this one up,” Emily says with a grin.
More like the opposite, I think wryly. I gotta keep this one from being locked up.
“Well, let’s go then,” Lucy urges, grabbing the door handle. Her phone rings loudly. She pulls it back out from her purse and in a move driven by sheer panic, I grab it from her and shove it in my pocket.
For the second time today Lucy stares at me like I have gone insane.
Honestly, maybe I have.
“Good call, babe,” Nora pipes up, saving me. “No phones at the wedding.” She gives Lucy an apologetic smile. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh.” Lucy’s expression clears. “Yeah, sure. Of course. It’s just, that was Mel. She’s probably calling about when Emily and I are going to be at the restaurant. Just let me shoot her a quick text? Then I swear I’ll turn my phone on silent.” She holds out her palm expectantly to me. “Unless you want me to invite her,” she adds with a wink as she waits for me to pass the phone. “Don’t you think it would be nice for your bride to have at least one friend here? Not that we’re not friends,” she adds with a glance at Nora. “But we're silver friends, and you should have a gold friend here, you know, like the song. Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other is gold. Nora needs a gold friend here.” She finishes relaying her argument with a satisfied smile, as if we’re playing euchre and she just played her trump card over top of my ace.
Nora eyes me with hope shining in her eyes. “It would be fun to have Mel here,” she says. Which, what? Does she not realize how lucky we got that neither Lucy or Emily know about the dead body on her lawn? I highly doubt we’d get so lucky with Mel. In fact, I bet the real reason she called was to talk about the case, not what time they should meet for breakfast. Furthermore, what does Nora care if Mel comes to the ceremony for our fake marriage?
Sometimes I really don’t understand women.
“Lucy, Emily, can you just give us a second to talk?” I ask with a very forced smile.
“Oh, sure. Yeah, yeah,” they both chant.
I take Nora by the elbow and lead her far enough away that they can’t hear us, but close enough that I can still keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t bribe some unsuspecting soul to let them use their phones or something.
“Why can’t we invite Mel?” Nora asks once we’re facing each other.
“Invite Mel?” I repeat with a groan. “Don’t you realize that we are one tiny yank away from this whole plan unraveling faster than a dropped ball of yarn?” She’s a knitter, she should get the analogy, but even so, I’m not finished. “I mean, sure,” I throw my hands up, “let’s invite Mel. In fact, while we’re at it, how about we invite the significant others of the whole police force? Make it a real party. A bon voyage to you as you head for prison!”
“Okay, geez, I get it.” Nora sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’re right. No Mel.” She sighs. “I guess I just got swept up in how nice it sounded to have a friend here.” Her eyes drift over to Lucy and Emily. “I don’t know. It’s weird, is all, meeting Stafford and Montgomery’s wives. So much has changed in three years.” Her voice is tinged with sadness, but she quickly shakes it away. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m being ridiculous. Obviously I don’t want to go to prison, so no Mel.”
I sigh. The juvenile part of me wants to tell her that’s too bad, she’s the one who said no to marrying me three years ago—she has no right to be sad that there are new people in my life. But for once the part of me that loves Nora is louder than my wounded pride.
“What if we meet up with them after things are official?” I hear myself suggest. “Once we’re married, it won’t matter if they find out about the case. My testimony will be locked up.”
Nora lifts her eyes to meet mine, smiling softly at me as she nods her acceptance of this plan. “You’re a good man, Jack Reynolds, you know that? The very best kind of man. And I don’t deserve you.” She sets her hand on my arm and gives it a tiny squeeze before heading back over to Lucy and Emily.
I stand there, staring after her as her words twist around inside me, upsetting my equilibrium. It’s ironic, really, her saying she doesn’t deserve me, seeing as she’s the one who I’ve always tried to be a better man for.