The Marriage Rescue

by Shirley Jump

  He shook his head. “Well, New York’s a city. It’s apples and oranges.”

  “Maybe so. Or maybe Grady the risk taker won’t take a chance on what we could have here.”

  He threw up his hands. He’d taken chances ever since he’d walked into her shop. He’d taken a chance pretending to be her boyfriend, then her husband. But in the end, he’d been living a fantasy. He wasn’t cut out for this town, or this domesticated home-for-dinner-at-five kind of life. He never had been. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last two weeks? You were the one who made it very clear you don’t have time to date. That your life revolved around your father.”

  “It did. He was sick and he needed me.”

  “But now that he’s gone, you’re still keeping that distance. Was it really about responsibilities or because you’re just as scared of falling in love with someone? I’m not the only one who isn’t taking risks.” Grady was scared; he wasn’t going to lie about that. The thought of uprooting his life for someone who wasn’t fully invested... He’d had enough of living with people who barely tolerated each other. He didn’t want perfection, but he’d thought for a little while that he and Beth had the kind of thing Dan and Cathy, Nick and Vivian, and Mac and Savannah had.

  The little whisper in the back of his mind said, You can’t have that without fully investing yourself, too.

  “If I did that, and made time for you,” Beth said, pushing off from the railing and taking a step closer to him, “and for us, would you stay in Stone Gap?”

  “You know I can’t—”

  “You own the company, Grady. You can do whatever you want.”

  His gaze went to the lake again. The blue water shimmered under the sun, peaceful and still. When he’d been young, he’d imagined living here all year long, in the very house he had inherited. Then he grew up and built a company and suddenly had dozens of people depending on him to pay their mortgages and get their kids braces. He’d had to let those people go, but he still planned to rehire them, to keep all the promises he’d made. He couldn’t just up and abandon that. “A company that’s in trouble. I’ve got someone trying to buy it out from under me, and I’m spending most of my time trying to save it. If I’d been more cautious before I took a risk on that government project—”

  “Did you ever think that maybe you undermined that yourself?”

  Beth’s question came out of left field. He’d worked tirelessly for years to build his business to what it was. He’d never done anything to purposely hurt the company. “What are you talking about? Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re not as happy as you think you are.” She narrowed the distance between them even more, and her stormy blue eyes seemed to bore into his. “You live a life with no ties, Grady. You’re trying to unload your dog, and your grandmother’s house and all her possessions, as fast as you can—”

  “I need the capital to get my business back on track.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, your grandmother left you that house for a reason? I didn’t know Ida Mae as well as you did, but one thing I do know is that she had ties. To this town, to the people in it, and to you and your brothers. Maybe she wanted you to have some, too.”

  He had no doubt Ida Mae had had something like that in mind when she wrote up her will. But she also would have supported him in trying to restore his business. She’d been the only one to encourage him and his brothers to go after something different than the law careers their parents had pushed so hard for. She had dared to be different in her own life, and had encouraged the same with her grandchildren.

  Beth couldn’t possibly understand that. All she’d known was this town. “I have to go back to New York, and have a flight out tomorrow,” Grady said. Beth’s face fell a little. “I would love it if you came with me.”

  She sighed. “We’ve been through this. My life is here. My business.”

  “They need groomers and dog trainers in New York, too. And you can fly down and visit your friends here anytime you want.”

  “I love my life here, Grady. I know you did, too. Boy, you really don’t want to get out of your comfort zone, do you?” She shook her head. “Have a safe trip.”

  Then she brushed past him and headed down the dock. Grady started to hurry after her, but realized it was too late. It had been too late before he even arrived.

  * * *

  Beth stood on the porch of her father’s house for a long time before she opened the door. The conversation with Grady on the dock at Mac’s house had cemented a truth she’d been avoiding. There was no future between her and Grady. When Mac told her that he’d offered an opportunity to buy into the solar company, and Grady had turned it down, she knew it was pointless to hope for a better ending. Grady may have done something selfless in marrying her, but when it came to a relationship, he retreated from true commitment.

  Her heart had broken then, and she’d known she had to have a conversation she’d been avoiding, because there wasn’t going to be a happily-ever-after for Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.

  She grabbed the huge stack of mail and went inside the house where she had spent so much of her life. The furniture was still there, the pictures of her father on the wall, but the home itself was empty.

  Beth sighed, dropped onto the sofa and began sorting the mail. Some bills, a lot of catalogs and other junk, and then one big package, addressed to her dad.

  She opened it, and pulled out what looked like a book. It took her a second to recognize what it was.

  An album for photos. The kind that people used for scrapbooking. This one was a complete kit, with patterned paper and stickers and all kinds of little extras that had toasting glasses and wedding rings to tack on the pictures.

  Her eyes welled. Her father had surprised her yet again by turning out to be more of a softy than she knew. If she’d had a list of a thousand people who would start a scrapbook after her wedding, her dad would have been the last person she thought of.

  And yet here he was, even after he was gone, showing her how proud and happy he was.

  Another package in the pile contained some photo proofs from the photographer her father had hired. Of course her dad would have asked for hard copies—while he still owned an ancient desktop computer, he’d never had the patience for keeping up with the latest software, never mind keeping any kind of digital frame.

  Beth dumped out the photos and sorted through them, her heart breaking a little more with each picture. Beth and Grady at the altar, speaking their vows, then kissing, then turning to head back down the aisle, hand in hand.

  Beth swallowed hard. How she wanted to believe in those pictures, in the happy couple they portrayed. Except the marriage was already over and the sooner she made that knowledge public, the better. She couldn’t go on pretending that she and Grady were happy and in love. Because they weren’t.

  She got to her feet and crossed to the images of her father that filled the living room wall. Reggie in the ring, in the middle of a fight, or raising a fist with a victorious smile. A strong man, right to the end. “I’m sorry about lying to you, Dad. I really am,” she said, her voice thick, the tears unchecked now. “You were so sick, and all I wanted to do was make you happy—to give you something to get excited over.

  “When I was a little girl, you’d come home from a fight and swing me up in your arms, and carry me on your shoulders around the yard. We’d celebrate, you know? You and me. Sometimes you’d sit down at one of my tea parties and pretend to drink tea with me and Mr. Bear. And then...you just stopped doing all that.”

  She stared at the image of him with his promoter, one from back when she was in high school. Her father had been gone so much, so often. “I missed you,” she whispered. “I missed you so much, Dad. The only thing I ever wanted was a relationship with you, and after you got sick, and we started talking, and then...when you thought I was getting
married...we finally had the relationship I wanted.”

  She sighed. He wasn’t here, he couldn’t hear her and he couldn’t reply. But looking at his pictures and telling him all the things she wished she’d said before made it easier. A little.

  Would Grady feel the same heartbreak about leaving her? She doubted it, and wishing it were so wouldn’t make it happen.

  The wedding had given her father something to look forward to, to hold on for, and for that, Beth would have done it a hundred times over, even with all the heartbreak that had followed.

  For a moment there, she’d dared to believe it was more. Especially when Grady stayed through the wake and the funeral. I’m falling in love with you. If he’d meant those words, then why was he leaving? And why had he gone ahead with selling the house? That had been the clear message Beth needed that none of this was real.

  She glanced at the clippings, pasted inside frames and hung on the wall. Dozens of fights over the years, different locations, different fighters. Her gaze lingered on one clipping of her father, fighting a man who was taller and had longer arms. Lenny Miller. The name rang a bell of some story her dad had told her years ago.

  The fight had been in Georgia, in the early part of her father’s career. He was unproven, green, and Lenny had ten years of experience on him. “Lenny had a reach that was like ten feet,” her father said in the postfight interview. “I knew I couldn’t beat him just by punching him. He would have creamed me in five minutes. So I went in there and did the only thing I knew how to do. I pretended I wasn’t scared. I acted like I was the next George Foreman. All tough and unbeatable. Every time he hit me, I stayed standing, shook it off like it was a tap from a fly. He’d swing at me, I’d laugh after he hit my jaw or my head. And poor Lenny, he was standing there, confused as hell, trying to figure out what was going wrong.”

  She laughed at the story, thinking of her father doing that, acting brave even when he wasn’t feeling very brave. She read over the stats of the fight, the round by round recounting by the reporter, who’d called it “incredible. A nail-biter.”

  In the last round, her father had used his lower height and his speed to sneak in a jab, then a second before Lenny recovered. The other fighter crumpled, and ten seconds later, her father had won his first major bout. And then there was a tiny article, from another paper, that had run a few weeks later. She’d never noticed this one before, maybe because the photos had been there so long they’d become a part of the wallpaper. The snippet talked about how Lenny Miller was glad he’d lost to Reggie, because his son had gotten sick, and the loss allowed him to be home and take time for that. “Everything happens for a reason,” Lenny said in the interview. “Even losses.”

  “I’m having trouble seeing the reason for all this,” she whispered to her father’s picture. A short-lived joy that she almost wished had never happened. Then she wouldn’t be struggling so hard to forget those moments.

  Grady might already be gone, and all of this was over. He’d made it clear his life was hundreds of miles away from hers.

  Beth stayed in the house for a long time, going through photos and memories while the clock ticked away the minutes and her husband got further and further away from the life she’d dared to hope they’d have.

  Chapter Twelve

  Grady didn’t go straight back home after he left Mac’s place. He couldn’t face the empty house, the offer-pending sign that the Realtor had tacked up, and the glaring absence of the dog that had already gone to a new home. He should have been glad; all his plans had come to fruition and now he could go back to New York, give the business a much needed cash infusion, and turn things around. The deal to buy and resell that property in Lower Manhattan was nearly closed. A few more details to work out, and he’d be back on the road to success.

  Technically, Ida Mae’s house wasn’t “home” at all. And yet, in the weeks he’d spent here as a man, and all the weekends and summer days of his childhood, it had become home, or at least more of a home than anywhere else he had ever lived.

  Beth had been right—he wasn’t connected to New York. Yes, his business was there, and his apartment, but that world was so vastly different, with its skyscrapers and constant movement, from the quiet, rolling green hills of North Carolina.

  He spent a lot of time driving around Stone Gap, not stopping anywhere, but passing by the storefronts that had names that sounded more like a family reunion than a downtown business district. Gator’s Garage, Betty’s Bakery, George’s Deli. The park Jack Barlow had built to honor his friend Eli, who’d died fighting overseas. Ernie’s Hardware, where Ida Mae had bought Grady his first fishing pole. Joe’s Barbershop, with the black plastic stools Grady had sat in many times for the crew cut his father insisted upon.

  Several people raised their hands in greeting at the familiar sight of Ida Mae’s Camaro, but there was only one person Grady wanted to take for a ride right now—well, two, but one of them wasn’t talking to him. He pulled up in front of the Stone Gap Inn, then went inside, hoping he wasn’t too late.

  Della Barlow poked her head out of the kitchen. “Hello, Grady! What a surprise to see you. I thought you and Beth would still be on your honeymoon.”

  Instead of answering that, Grady asked, “Is Nick still working here?” His brother had told him about his chef job at the inn, but Grady had forgotten when his last day was supposed to be.

  Della nodded. “For a couple more days. Then we’ll lose him to his restaurant.” She smiled. “You’ll find him in the kitchen, of course.”

  Grady thanked her, then headed down the hall. The scents of roasted chicken, fresh rolls and something chocolate filled the air, making Grady’s mouth water. When he entered the kitchen, Nick stopped in the midst of whipping up some kind of sauce.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “That seems to be the question of the night.” Grady held up the keys to the Camaro. “Want to take a ride with me?”

  Nick’s gaze sparked with interest. “Are those for Grandma’s car?”

  “I thought we’d take her for a spin.”

  Nick grinned the mischievous smile that Grady remembered from their childhood. “Grandma would have loved that.”

  “Exactly my thinking. So, you in?”

  “I’ve only got a few minutes, but hell, yes, I’m in.” Nick called out to Della that he’d be back in a bit, then the two brothers bounded down the front stairs and out to the car like teenagers. The sun had started to set, casting the town in hues of mauve and peach. The Camaro’s engine was a dull roar beneath them as they headed to the more remote parts of town. Grady couldn’t help but remember being on this road with Beth not so long ago. It seemed like a million years, back before everything went to hell.

  “So, where’s that pretty wife of yours?” Nick asked, as if he read Grady’s mind.

  “Honestly? I don’t know.” Grady sighed. All his life, he had kept to himself, sharing very little of his feelings, his struggles, with anyone. It wasn’t until he was living under one roof with Reggie and Beth that he’d begun to see the value of a family connection. He envied what Beth had, and hoped to build some of that with his brothers going forward. That started with telling the truth. “It wasn’t a real marriage. It’s a long story, but we got married to make her dad happy.”

  “A shotgun wedding?”

  “No,” Grady said. Although a shotgun wedding would have meant he was having a baby with Beth, and for some reason, that idea didn’t terrify him. “We were never actually together in the first place. Her dad was sick, and had a bunch of heart attacks, and wasn’t going to live much longer. He wanted his daughter to be settled and happy, and I kind of agreed to be the man to do that. Her dad died the next day.”

  “I’m so sorry for Beth. That had to be tough.” If Nick was surprised by Grady’s statement, he didn’t say anything. “Since she’s not in the car and you don’t know whe
re she is right now, I take it you aren’t together anymore?”

  “Not so much.” Grady flicked on the headlights. Twin white beams lit up the long stretch of road ahead, an empty corridor that could take him far away from here if he kept on driving.

  The woman Grady had just left on the dock was neither settled nor happy, and a lot of that unhappiness was his doing. “Can I ask you something? Why did you marry Vivian? I mean, you didn’t know her more than a couple months, right?”

  “That’s an easy question.” Nick rolled his window down and let the breeze fill the car. The air was fresh and clear, with a sweet, warm scent. “Because she brought me something I never found anywhere else. A...peace, I guess you’d call it. With who I am and where I’m going.”

  Peace. That was what Grady had found with Beth. She was the only person he knew who could calm his thoughts just by being in the same room. “I’ve been driving around for hours, trying to figure out what exactly has made me so averse to relationships. Beth said something about how I take risks everywhere else but there. Grandma told me the same thing today.”

  Nick looked at him askance. “Uh, Grady, are you hearing voices from beyond the grave? Because I’d really like to call an Uber right now, if that’s the case.”

  “No. It’s here.” Grady leaned over, popped open the glove box and pulled out an envelope, then handed it to Nick. “She wrote that before she died, and left it there, figuring I’d take the car out—”

  “And see if she’d left the ice cream money in there.”

  That had been the first place the boys had gone every time they got in the car. If Ida Mae had left money there—and she pretty much always did—that meant they’d all get a cone down at The Last Scoop, and eat it on the bench out front before going back home. Dessert was forbidden in their parents’ household, so Ida Mae indulged her grandsons every chance she got. Grady had peeked in there for old times’ sake, only partly surprised to find Grandma had tucked a note there.