Beauty From Love

by Georgia Cates

  “There’s only one person I can think of.” Margaret McLachlan. I move to answer the door. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not getting fucked into the couch right now.”

  My guess is spot on. “Mum. This is a surprise.” Not really. I knew she wouldn’t stay away.

  She’s holding several plates of food and passes them to me. “I brought you something to eat.” I take the food from her and she steps around me to go to Laurelyn. “How’s our girl?”

  “I’m much better, thank you.”

  She sits next to L and immediately begins her mothering by feeling L’s forehead. I guess I learned that from her. “You’re a little warm but you don’t have fever. Any chills?”

  “I did earlier but I haven’t felt them in hours.”

  “Good. Whatever this is, it’s passing quickly. I made soup. Do you feel like eating?”

  Laurelyn nods and my mum motions for the cabana boy—me—to jump. “You’re going to eat soup for her but you’d barely drink water for me.” I sound like a pouty child.

  “I feel better since I’ve gotten out of bed.” She points to the blueprints on the coffee table. “And since I got this incredible Christmas gift.”

  My mum leans over to look at the plans. “What is this?”

  “I’m building a music studio at Avalon.”

  Mum nods in approval. “What a great idea. You must be happy about this.”

  Laurelyn leans up and adjusts the pillow behind her back. “Beyond thrilled is more like it.”

  “My boy does good.”

  “He certainly does.” I’m glad to have the approval of the two most important women in my life.

  I take Laurelyn’s empty soup bowl when she finishes and Mum follows me into the kitchen. “She’s pale.”

  She’s a hundred percent better than she was. “Pale is an improvement over the color she was early this morning. She scared me, Mum. She doesn’t realize how very close I was to taking her to the hospital.”

  “She kept saying her wedding dress was tight so I thought she might have already been pregnant but just didn’t realize it yet. I was hoping that was why she didn’t feel well, but I see that isn’t the case.” So I’m not the only one hoping for a baby soon.

  “I’d hoped the same thing but she isn’t. We know for sure.” I don’t want to tell my mum about my wife’s period, so I hope she understands what I mean.

  She’s grinning. “She may want to work on that as soon as she feels better.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. We discussed it in Maui. She told me she’d think about it.”

  “Don’t look so discouraged. Thinking about it isn’t a no.”

  “It isn’t a yes, either,” I argue.

  “Son, she’s open to the idea if she’s thinking it over, but don’t rush her. Pressure is the last thing she needs. You’ve been married a week. There’s plenty of time for babies.”

  Laurelyn has plenty of time for babies. I’m not so sure about myself but I’m not going to upset my mum by going there with her. “I know.”

  “Enjoy being together while you can. Trust me, that special time is rare once little ones come along.”

  Isn’t that the same thing Evan told me about Emma? That, along with a lot of other shit I didn’t want to hear about him fucking her on their living room couch and kids nursing on her all the time. “I treasure every moment with Laurelyn.”

  “As you should.” She takes the spoon and bowl from me and goes to the sink to wash them. “You couldn’t have chosen a better gift than a music studio.”

  “Laurelyn quit the band but she didn’t give up music. She wants to continue to work—maybe writing songs for other artists. I think the studio will be the perfect avenue for her to work from home instead of making trips to Nashville.”

  “Isn’t Nashville where that man lives, the one who attacked her?” That whole situation weighs heavily on my mind.

  “Yes and she’ll have to go back to testify.”

  “How do you feel about that?” my mum asks.

  She doesn’t really want to hear me tell her how I feel about it, how I want to kill him. “I don’t want them in the same room ever again, but I want that son of bitch locked up with the key thrown away. It’ll take her testimony to do that.”

  “You’ve never told me about it.”

  And I don’t plan to. “I can’t. L doesn’t want anyone to know what he did to her.” She drops the soup bowl in the sink, shattering it, before she turns to me, looking sickened. “He didn’t, Mum. I stopped him in time. But another minute and I don’t think the outcome would’ve been the same.”

  She reaches for the dish towel and dries her hands before walking to me. “I had no idea.”

  “Don’t say anything to Laurelyn.”

  “I wouldn’t, son.” She holds my face with her hands. “You’ve done a lot of things to make me proud but never more so than when you took Laurelyn as your wife. As her husband, it’s your job to love her.” She’s unmoving as her eyes stare into mine. “She’s one of us now and we protect our own … at any cost.”

  I nod in agreement with my mum. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will keep her safe.”

  I hear the echo of Laurelyn’s phone and I recognize her mum’s ringtone. “Jolie’s calling, I’m sure to wish Laurelyn a merry Christmas.”

  “Good. Laurelyn needs her mother to be a presence in her life, even if from a distance.”

  It’s taken several days for me to feel as though I’ve returned to the land of the living but I’m back. I hope I’m ready for the party scene because Daniel is driving us to Evan and Emma’s house for their New Year’s shindig. It’s not a family party, meaning I’ll be meeting Jack Henry’s friends, so my stomach is fluttering a mile a minute.

  “You’re quiet, love.”

  I consider saying nothing but can’t think of a good reason to keep it from him. “I’m your wife and I’ve yet to meet your friends, so I can’t help but feel nervous about meeting your inner circle.”

  Jack Henry had no intention of introducing me to the people in his life when we began our companionship. Meeting his parents and siblings wasn’t supposed to happen but even after we abandoned our original agreement, he didn’t take me around his friends. He still hasn’t, and I admit I’m troubled by this.

  Our wedding was small with only family in attendance. I’d like to think that was because he didn’t want me to feel bad about a huge crowd on his side when I had only four family members and a single friend, but the insecure person trapped inside me wonders if there’s more to it than that.

  “The people attending this party aren’t my mates. They’re Evan and Emma’s, so we’re acquaintances at best.”

  “Oh.” So I still won’t meet those he considers his buddies. “Why haven’t I met your friends?”

  He’s grinning as he leans over to kiss my cheek. “I have none worthy of your company.”

  He’s avoiding the question. “That’s not an answer.”

  “I’m not hiding you from them, if that’s what’s on your mind.” His arm is around me and I lean into him. He squeezes me closer and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Or maybe I am. The whole bunch of them are self-proclaimed manwhores so I’d do well to keep you from them forever.”

  A manwhore, huh? Sort of sounds like someone I used to know.

  “I assure you you’re not missing anything, but I can have Mum invite a few to my birthday dinner next Saturday night if it’s what you want.”

  That’s right. My man has a birthday coming in thirteen days. Thirty-one. He sees age as a countdown but I don’t. That’s no way to think of life and I have to change his mindset. I also have to come up with a gift for him—a perfect one.

  We arrive at my brother and sister-in-law’s and the driveway is full of expensive cars. “Looks like they invited a lot of pe
ople.” And it looks like some rich ones, which surprises me. I guess I didn’t realize Evan and Emma rubbed elbows with a wealthy crowd.

  “Perfect.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice. “You should probably be prepared to be passed around. If you tire of it, let me know and we’ll leave. I’m not opposed to ringing in the new year at home, just the two of us.”

  I wouldn’t want to upset Evan and Emma by leaving before midnight. I look at the time. “We can survive anything together for four hours.”

  “We need a code word.”

  Is he kidding? “A code word? For what?”

  “For when you’ve had enough and you need to get out.”

  Now I’m really afraid. “I don’t know.” I think for a moment, offering the first word that comes to me. “Infinity.”

  He grins. “May I say how fitting that is since it’s what you trace with your finger when you’re mulling something over.”

  We enter the house and it’s more crowded than I expected. A lot of people must’ve come by taxi, or maybe they’re like Jack Henry and have drivers. I hadn’t considered that I might have to mingle with an elite crowd.

  Shit. I may have married a man from the upper class but I’ve never rubbed elbows with these kind of people, not even in my music career. I’m a simple Southern girl with a twang I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.

  Please don’t let me say or do anything to embarrass myself or my husband.

  Emma’s at my side almost instantly, placing a drink in my hand. “Evan’s specialty—a painkiller.”

  I put it to my nose and sniff. “Mmm … smells delicious.”

  Jack Henry takes it from me and turns it up for a taste. “Be forewarned, L. Evan will fool you with these. He’ll add more and more spiced rum in each one you drink. He wants you smashed—if for no other reason than to fuck with me.”

  Cock-block. I swear they’re worse than two little boys hitting each other in the nuts. I bet they did that to each other all the time when they were growing up. Poor Margaret. I bet she wore their asses out every day whether they needed it or not.

  Emma laughs. “Jack’s not kidding. You should watch out for Evan. He loves nothing more than to fuck with his brother and he’ll do it through you if he has to—just like Jack will use me.” She hits my husband in the arm. “It never stops. I thought they’d grow out of it eventually—especially after we had kids—but they haven’t. They’re worse than my own children so I gave up hope a long time ago.”

  I don’t intend on being curled over a toilet tonight or tomorrow morning. “Don’t worry.”

  Emma grabs my hand and tugs. “Come with me. I want to introduce you around.”

  We make the rounds and my sister-in-law introduces me to one person after another. Jack Henry was right. I’m passed from one person to the next like some kind of novelty. Everyone at the party wants to meet the woman capable of lassoing Jack McLachlan’s heart.

  Meeting this many people at once, while trying to keep their names straight, is exhausting. I need a break from the crowd … and the alcohol. Jack Henry and Emma were right. Evan mixes much stronger drinks for me as the night progresses.

  I catch Jack Henry’s attention and motion toward the outside door. I fan myself and then point at the door so he knows I mean to step out for air. He gives me a nod, a signal that he understands, and I blow him a kiss.

  I step out into the night air and sit in a patio chair with my feet resting on an ottoman. God, it’s hot. I’m not used to bringing in the new year in the summer. I think I almost expected to see my breath in the cold air.

  It’s a reality I haven’t considered—certainly not the end of the world—but I realize I’ll never have a white Christmas in Australia. All of the things I associate with the holidays aren’t the same here. I’m surprised by how bothered I am when I consider that my kids will never go out to play in the snow after they’ve opened their gifts from Santa.

  “I see I’m not the only one needing some fresh air.”

  I turn toward the female voice interrupting my thoughts and see a beautiful, petite blond with silky hair flowing down her back. “Yeah. It’s a lot to take in at one time.”

  She sits in the chair next to me. “I noticed Emma parading you around so I’m guessing you are her new sister-in-law, Laurelyn.”

  This woman knows my name but that’s not surprising since everyone at this party is aware that I’m Jack Henry’s wife. Still, it’s unnerving. “That would be me.”

  “Your accent is adorable.”

  “Thanks. It sort of sticks out like a sore thumb. I’ve tried to tame it but I’m afraid it’s no use.”

  “Don’t. You sound like a sweet little country girl,” she laughs. “You shouldn’t change it to suit your husband.”

  It’s true that I consider myself a country girl but I’m not sure I like this woman’s tone as she tells me I sound like one. I believe she’s trying to insult me—but in a catty way—as though I’m too stupid to see it. And I didn’t mention anything about changing my accent because Jack Henry didn’t like it. “My husband loves my accent and would never want me to speak differently.”

  “You’re the one who said you were trying to change it.”

  I know exactly what I said and it wasn’t that my husband didn’t like me the way I was.

  I don’t know this woman and I have no desire to argue with a complete stranger. I came outside to get a break from empty conversations and I don’t intend on having another with her, especially if she’s going to put words I didn’t say into my mouth.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” I get up to leave. “Jack Henry will be looking for me.”

  “Oh, look. You’re right. Here comes Jack now.” She emphasizes his name—as if she’s correcting me about what I should call my own husband—and I’m taken aback by her nasty tone and sudden change of demeanor. Who is she? Did I get her name? I don’t think so.

  She walks toward Jack Henry and goes up on her tiptoes. I know what’s she’s going to do because I can see it coming a mile away. She intends to kiss him on the mouth. “Hello, Jack.”

  The bitch is quick, but he’s faster as he turns his head and grabs her shoulders to push her away. “No, Lana.” He sounds as though he’s scolding a child. Or a dog—so the term bitch would be accurate.

  Disappointment is etched all over her face. His reaction clearly isn’t what she’d hoped for but then she breaks into a sneer directed at me. “I’m Lana and I can see from your expression that you’ve heard of me.”

  “Don’t,” Jack Henry warns her.

  “Don’t what, Jack? Tell her we were a thing and we used to fuck like champions?” She’s smirking, trying to get under my skin—and as badly as I hate to admit it, it’s working.

  Fuck like champions. Perfect. My husband used the same terminology with me that he once used with this woman—the one who attempted to trap him into marriage by getting pregnant.

  I’m caught off guard, my mind completely blank, so I don’t have a response for my husband’s former lover. I don’t want her to know what an impact she has had on Jack Henry’s life or how she has shaped who he became even years after they broke up. As much as I despise it, she has had a huge influence over my husband and the thought of her taking any kind of pleasure from knowing that sickens me.

  What does she want? She didn’t follow me outside for no reason. “Lana. I’m aware of your prior relationship with my husband and I’m also privy to knowing why he ended things with you. He, nor I, has any interest in reminiscing about the manner in which you once fucked. I’m his wife—by choice, not force. That means he fucks me—and only me—like a champion. And he enjoys the hell out of it when he does, which is often.” I’m shaking on the inside. My upper lip may even be quivering. “Does that cover it, or do you need further discouragement?”

  She looks at Jack Henry and reaches for h
is hand. “There’s no possible way you could be happy with her. If you’ll think about it, you’ll remember how good we were together.”

  Un-fucking-believable!

  Jack Henry moves from her reach and places his arm in front of me. It’s to hold me back because he knows I could go for blood any second. “Lana, I don’t remember us ever being good together. You’re just somebody I used to know.” He reaches for my hand. “I love my wife with all my heart and we couldn’t be happier.”

  “I know you, Jack. You don’t keep any woman around for long. You need variety—and I’m okay with that—but she won’t be.” She walks toward the house and calls out over her shoulder. “Emma will know how to reach me once the shine is knocked off your new bride.”

  That was absolutely humiliating—being told by a woman that she used to fuck my husband—and no less than like a champion. It’s almost as if she said that knowing it would hit home with me. I want to strangle them both.

  I stand motionless as reality sinks in. I married a man with many women in his past. This is the third time I’ve been humiliated by one of his previous lovers and I strongly suspect it won’t be the last. “How many times do I have to go through this?”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders, maybe because he’s afraid I’ll bolt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was invited. We wouldn’t have come had I known.”

  I’m guessing she’s Emma’s friend if she’s at her party, so why wouldn’t he have considered her being invited? “You never told me Lana was Emma’s friend. Is that how you met her?”

  “Yes.”

  I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut. Jack Henry’s connection to Lana through Emma is a huge problem for me.

  “Come on. We’re going home,” he says.

  Oh hell no! Tucking my tail between my legs isn’t my forte. Leaving would make me appear upset, which I am, but also weak, which I’m not, so I have no intention of giving her that pleasure. “No. It’s too early to go home. We have a new year to ring in.” I walk toward the house. “I think I’ll have another painkiller since I’m due a stronger drink.”