Chapter 11
Nora
THANKFULLY WE GET our marriage license without any issues. Emily and Lucy follow us across the street to the courthouse where there’s already a judge expecting us, since apparently Jack made an appointment at some point this morning…probably when he was patiently waiting for me to get myself ready. Idly I think back to our interaction on either side of my bedroom door.
There was a moment there where I thought that, for maybe the first time ever, Jack had decided to be vulnerable with me. But then the moment passed. There and gone before I could even be sure if it had really happened.
I can’t believe he thought his money troubles would make me change my mind about marrying him. Yes, I get it–nobody wants to be saddled with debt. But hello! Debt is better than prison. And anyway, Joy Reynolds is someone I would gladly spend my money on. She is one of the most fabulous human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with. People who don’t have anyone with Down Syndrome in their lives may not realize this, but these individuals often have the sweetest of souls.
Plus, I’ll admit, there is a small part of me that is happy there might be something I can do for Jack in return for him marrying me. I make pretty good money doing what I do. Not to mention, I have great insurance. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have some group home or even in-home care coverage on my plan. After all, with both of us in Jack’s house maybe there’s a chance Joy could come live with us. Unlike Jack’s, my work schedule is fairly consistent and predictable. I’m sure we could find in-home care for the hours I’m gone.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. First, we need to get married and, you know, make sure I don’t go to prison for murder.
“Judge Karplin,” Jack greets the judge with a smile, holding out his hand to shake. “Thank you for your time this morning.”
“Wait!” Lucy cries as the two men shake hands. We all turn to look at her. At first I’m worried she somehow found out about Ian and is going to blow up this whole wedding before it can happen, but then I see she’s smiling. “I just remembered!” she trills. “We have a veil in the car! It’s my veil, well, sort of…I mean it started out as mine, but then Emily wore it for her wedding because we had this idea to have us all wear it at our weddings. So Emily brought it to give to Mel since, you know, her wedding is next month.”
Oh yes, I know exactly how many days there are until Mel’s wedding because I’ve been staring at my RSVP card ever since the invite arrived wondering whether or not to go. I knew going would mean seeing Jack. Worse, that it could mean seeing Jack with some other woman on his arm.
I guess if there’s any silver lining to this whole murder debacle it’s that I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve got my RSVP and plus one all figured out. Jack is about to become my permanent plus one.
I find I don’t hate that idea.
I glance Jack’s way to find him staring at me, a softness to his features that makes my stomach flip.
Yeah, I don’t hate that idea at all. In fact—I might even like it a little.
“But now your wedding is today,” Lucy goes on. “So you should wear it. Right, Em?” She turns expectantly to Emily who nods enthusiastically.
“Absolutely she should!” she agrees.
“Really?” I’m floored by this show of inclusion from them. “But you just met me.”
“Pshh!” Lucy waves off my protest. “Please, we’ve been waiting for you to come back into Reynolds’ life and be our friend. So it’s only fitting that you should wear the veil.”
Her words are like a hug to my soul. Outside of Jack and my grandparents, I’ve never experienced this type of unfettered acceptance from anyone. I swallow hard, blinking against sudden tears.
“Oh, don’t cry!” Emily urges. “We can’t have you getting married with a red, puffy face.”
“I’d say that wouldn’t be good for pictures, but Reynolds still has my phone,” Lucy says wryly.
This makes me laugh, effectively drying my tears. I swipe once under each eye for good measure, then smile at the pair of women.
“It would be an honor to wear your veil. Thank you.”
“Oh, yay!” Lucy says with a little jump of excitement. “I’ll go get it. Wait,” she pauses, catching my eye then taking my hand, “come with me? That way you at least have a little bit of a grand reveal for your future husband.” She waggles her eyebrows at Jack with a grin.
“Do you mind waiting?” I ask, glancing over at him to see what he thinks about this plan. I know we’re in a hurry, and it’s not as if a grand reveal actually matters when it comes to this faux marriage of ours, so if he nixes this whole thing I’ll understand. I try to convey as much with my eyes, but Jack surprises me by nodding.
“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll be fine.” He slides his hands into his pockets, looking too handsome for words. “You’re worth the wait.”
“Awwww.” Lucy and Emily both let out sighs at his words, grabbing me by the arms and grinning madly at me like don’t I have just the sweetest future husband. A blush rises to my cheeks, but I try to keep my emotions in check. He said that for their benefit, so I’m not going to read into it. After all, actions speak louder than words, and three years ago he walked away from me because I wasn’t ready to get married—proving undeniably that, to him, I actually was not worth the wait.
“Sooo,” Lucy says conversationally as we make our way to her car, “tell us everything. How did you two reconnect? Why the rush? Does his cat hate you as much as he hates me?”
This last question gets a laugh out of me. “Briggs hates most people,” I tell her. “Don’t feel bad.”
“But he doesn’t hate you?” she asks, one eyebrow popping up.
“Well, no,” I admit. “But he and I share an affinity for yarn. We’ve bonded over it.”
“Yarn? Do you knit?” Emily asks.
“I do. Just as a hobby, but I love it.”
“Oh my gosh! I remember now. Mel said you made that fabulous blanket at Reynolds’ house!” Lucy exclaims. “And Mel’s potholders, you made those too, right?”
“Um, yeah.” I blush a little bit under their scrutiny.
“Wow, that’s so cool. I can barely tie my own shoes, let alone stitch yarn together to form something,” Lucy laments. “Although the shoe tying problems are more of a recent issue,” she adds, patting her bump.
“How far along are you?” I ask.
“Five months,” she tells me with a smile. “And I am finally, finally starting to feel like more of a human.” She rubs her stomach some more, then refocuses on me. “But, you’re deflecting. Tell us how you and Reynolds got back together.”
“Yeah, we’re dying to know,” Emily agrees. “He was hung up on you for so long.”
“Really?” The eager word escapes before I can stop it. Emily and Lucy both give me knowing smiles.
“Really,” they confirm in unison.
I try to repress the smile these words bring to my face, but it breaks free against my wishes. Jack was hung up on me for a long time? Maybe it’s selfish that this makes me so happy to hear, but, if so–well, then I guess I’m selfish.
In my defense, I was hung up on him for quite a long time too. Hard not to be when he looks the way he does and has a heart of gold to boot.
He’s like a dang Disney prince.
“Aww, look at her,” Lucy coos, elbowing Emily softly in the side. “She’s all happy and googly-eyed about her man.”
Quickly I school my features into a more neutral expression. I am not going to let my attraction to Jack get in the way of this fake marriage business. Unfortunately, these two are clearly only here to hear all about that attraction to Jack.
“We keep getting distracted,” Emily cries. “So you still haven’t told us about how you got back together? Did you run into each other after all of this time and the sparks just flew?” She puts a hand to her heart dreamily.
I stumble a little, tripping over nothing as I fumble around for how to answer this. Suddenly our simple little we reconnected last night and spontaneously decided to get married story doesn’t sound very convincing. So how am I going to sell this thing?
“I, uh, actually showed up to his house last night,” I tell them. “I knew I was going to be seeing him at Mel’s wedding next month, so I thought I should clear the air between us.”
There. That’s good. Very believable.
“And?” Lucy waves a hand, asking for more of the story.
“And,” I hedge, “we got to talking and realized we’d both missed each other these last three years. With our lengthy history we decided to pick things up where we left off and get married.”
“You got to talking?” Lucy echoes. She exchanges a look with Emily, looking disappointed. To be completely honest, I was very surprised to find out Detective Nathan Stafford, playboy extraordinaire, had gotten married; but the more time I spend with Lucy, the more I see how well these two fit.
“Sorry,” I say automatically. “It was clearly not as romantic as you were hoping for.”
“Well,” she says with a sigh, “maybe not, but I’m used to romcoms where last minute marriages are typically related to politics, citizenship, or insurance issues.” Her mouth drops open. “Wait, is that what this is? An insurance thing? You’re sick and you need his medical coverage?” She peers more closely at me as if to check for signs of illness then adds, “If so, don’t worry; we won’t tell.”
“Really, Lucy?” Emily scolds her. “You read too many romcoms; you know that? They’re getting married because they reconnected and are taking a second shot at love. Goodness. Listen to yourself. Insurance fraud. Reynolds would never do that. He’d never get married for anything less than love.”
I think I’m going to be sick. The combination of Lucy’s too-close-to-the-truth theory and Emily’s assertion about Jack is making me feel nauseous. Jack is a man of honor and good moral character. Purposefully defrauding someone is far from typical behavior for him. Furthermore, he’s traditional. He has always wanted a wife and a big family—people to love. The reason he bought his ranch, he once told me, was because he could see his future family living there. When he proposed to me three years ago he cast a pretty little vision of the life of domestic bliss we’d share raising our family on his ranch. I rejected his vision back then, but now I’m taking things a step further by robbing him of the opportunity to ever have that with someone at all. Because even though he’s marrying me, there’s no way Jack still loves me. I picture his stoney face outside my door this morning. All of his grunts and single word answers. He’s been almost completely closed off to me. Sure there have been moments where I’ve glimpsed the man I fell in love with, but for the most part Jack has been exuding indifference towards me.
He’s marrying me out of pity, pure and simple.
And suddenly I feel as if I’m exchanging one guilty verdict for another.
“Of course, you’re right, Em,” Lucy quickly agrees with her. “My imagination is making me get carried away.” She eyes me. “Although you do look a little pale. Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah,” I say dazedly. “Just a little lightheaded. I forgot to eat this morning with all the chaos of getting ready.”
“Oh,” Lucy says, taking out her keys and hitting the unlock button as we reach her Jeep. “Well, no worries. I have, like, ten boxes of granola bars in my Jeep. Nate is always putting food in my car on the off-chance that there’s an apocalypse.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “I remember that about him,” I say. “He’s always prepared for any situation.”
“That’s my man,” Lucy agrees, her eyes turning dreamy. My man. Those two words immediately bring an image of Jack to my mind. Strong, steady, not-in-love-with-me Jack.
“Here.” Lucy waves a granola bar in front of my face. “Orange Sorbet Larabar. So delicious.”
She reaches back in her trunk to retrieve the garment bag containing the veil, and I take a half-hearted bite of the Larabar she handed me wanting to corroborate my own story, despite not being the least bit hungry. Because of course I ate something this morning. Just like he always used to, Jack made sure all of my needs were met before we left the house, preparing me a plate of scrambled eggs.
Gosh, he is such a good man. I was right about what I said to him earlier. I don’t deserve him. I never have. So why am I letting him tie himself down to me and my problems? I wasn’t willing to do so three years ago, but now that my problems are even bigger I’m going all in?
“Em,” Lucy says as she passes her the veil, “can you do the honors? Nora is too tall for me to put it on.”
“Of course!” Emily removes the veil from the garment bag and stands on her tip-toes to ease the clip of it into my hair. There’s a slight digging into my scalp and then she steps back, having secured it in place. “Ta-da!” she says with a clap of her hands. “It looks perfect!”
“It’s a magical veil,” Lucy agrees. “Looks perfect on everyone. And,” she adds, fluffing the ends of it as they settle against my back, “I’m pretty sure it also guarantees the wearer a lifetime of happiness with their chosen groom.” She gives me a wink.
I force a smile onto my face, lifting a hand to finger the sheer material of the veil. Funny how putting on a veil makes this whole thing seem even more real than being handed the marriage license.
“Okay,” Emily says with another clap of her hands, “your groom is waiting. Shall we go to him?” She eyes me with concern again. “Assuming you’re better after some food?”
I nod wordlessly. The chaos of our circumstances has my thoughts and emotions too jumbled up to make sense of them; how can I ever completely separate my fear of going to prison from my desire to do right by Jack?
He deserves to have that life he’s always dreamed of—the one with the wife and the kids and the chaotic joy that comes with all of that.
Maybe I should talk to him about this again. I won’t ask him straight out if he realizes what he’s giving up, because he’s too principled to back out on his word. I’ll just try and suss him out a bit. You know, like a lawyer wheedling the truth out of a hostile witness.
Yes, that’s it. I’m going to go into the courthouse and ask for a quick sidebar with my betrothed. We will figure this out.
I pick up my pace a little bit, throwing open the courthouse doors with a dramatic flare that’s usually reserved for making a grand entrance. (Think Legally Blonde when Elle enters the courtroom as Brooke’s lawyer or Miss Congeniality when Gracie comes out after her makeover.) Except, since the judge’s chambers are down the hall, my grand entrance is ruined by the complete lack of audience. Well, unless you count the bored-looking guy working the front desk. But he barely looks up from his phone when I walk in. Whatever, this is a big moment for me even if he doesn’t recognize it.
Lucy and Emily follow behind me. One of them starts humming Here Comes the Bride, and the other quickly joins in. We reach the judge’s chamber where we left Jack, but Lucy pulls me to a stop before I can go in.
“Slow down, eager beaver,” she whispers with a laugh. “Let me look you over before you go charging in there.” She gives me a once over, fluffing my veil and brushing a stray hair off my shoulder.
As she does her perusal, Jack’s voice drifts out to the hall. “Absolutely get it. The hustle and bustle of the city can be too much. Living in the country is a nice reprieve from all of that. Plus there would be plenty of room for your daughter’s horse. I used to have two horses myself.”
Wait—used to have two horses? Jack got rid of his horses? And what’s he talking about with this there would be plenty of room for your daughter’s horse?
Is Jack selling his house? Are Joy’s bills that out-of-control?
Something he said in the car on the way back to my office to fix my tire comes to mind. What if I move—is that something I should disclose to the buyer, or should I just wait for them to find the body on their own?
He is selling his house! That’s why he didn’t want to bury the body in his backyard. I can’t believe it. Blindly I move forward, brushing past Lucy and into the room.
“Jack,” I say without preamble, “can we please talk for a second?”
His gaze swings my way, catching on the veil perched atop my head then moving down over my face. I look away from him, self-consciously tugging at the ends of the veil and feeling very much like a little girl playing dress-up to pretend marry the little boy next door. If I didn’t know that doing so would hurt Emily and Lucy’s feelings, I’d rip the thing right off.
But then I look back up to find him still staring at me, his usually guarded expression softened into something tender and sweet. His hand flexes at his side and he clears his throat.
“Uh,” the word comes out hoarsely forcing him to clear his throat again before continuing, “What about?” He rips his gaze off my face to eye his watch pointedly.
I shake my head, dispelling any crazy notions about Jack getting emotional over seeing me in a veil, then step forward and take his hand, tugging him out of the room. Thankfully he lets me, since if he resisted I wouldn’t be able to move the man.
“Excuse us for just one second,” I say to Emily and Lucy as we breeze past them down the hall.
“Nora, what is this about?” Jack asks as he follows behind me. “Because we really need to get things moving.”
I whirl around to face him, poking him hard in the chest. “Are you selling your ranch to the judge?” I demand in a whisper.
Jack’s mouth immediately flattens into a line and his shoulders tense. “You heard me talking to him.” He says this as a statement, not a question, then sighs. “Nothing’s definite. I just happened to see the picture on his desk of his daughter on a horse, so we got to talking and it came out that they’re looking to move out of the city. Since I’m going to be listing my house soon, it seemed like a potential opportunity for both of us.”
“But why?” I ask. “You love that house.”
Jack scrubs a hand over his face. “You know why, Nora. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
I study him for a beat. “Yes,” I finally say. “I need you to say it.” If the man won’t willingly be vulnerable with me I will force him to do so. I don’t know where he got the idea that admitting he needs help sometimes makes him weak, but I am here to debunk that line of thinking.
Jack’s gray eyes blaze. “Fine,” he bites out. “I can’t afford my house payments on top of paying for Joy’s group home. Okay? Are you happy now?” He slumps back against the wall, looking defeated.
I straighten my shoulders, a sense of purpose filling me. I’d already mentally committed myself to helping pay Joy’s bills, but knowing that doing so will help him keep his house makes a monumental difference. After all, Jack can’t have his dream of a big family living on his sprawled out ranch if he no longer has the ranch.
“You’re not selling your house,” I declare.
“Not your decision,” he counters, somehow unimpressed by my bravados.
“We’re about to get married, so I’d say that means I have some say in the matter. And since I would much rather live there than at my condo, I think it’s only fair that I help pay the mortgage. That’s what husbands and wives do, after all, they pay the bills together.”
Jack stares at me, looking as if he’s searching for some way to counter my words. I know it must be killing him for me to bail him out. He much prefers to be the hero rather than the one in need of saving. But too bad, mister, because I brought my sword and my trusty steed and I am fully prepared to slay your dragon. So for once—open your sexy mouth and cry for help.
Jack takes a shaky breath, and I can practically see the weight of everything he’s been carrying pressing down on him. So I take things a step further, forcing my help on him.
“If us being husband and wife is not a good enough reason for me to help pay the bills,” I say, “then perhaps it would behoove you to remember that you phrased this arrangement of ours as us being like roommates. Well, guess what, Jack, roommates both pay rent.”
His response is of the nonverbal variety. First he sighs, then he looks to the heavens, but then—then he nods.
I bite back a smile and nod back. “Great,” I chirp. “Glad we got that sorted out. Now let’s go get married.”