Let's Make It Legal

by Patricia Kay

  In fact, both children had managed to worm their way into Sydney’s heart. Jeffrey was so open and friendly, it was impossible not to become attached to him. And Emily. Sydney smiled. She couldn’t help feeling a special kinship with Emily, because they were so much alike. Sydney saw so many of her own personality traits in the youngster. Emily was a little perfectionist, and she wasn’t afraid to set lofty goals for herself. She faced the world head-on, with courage and determination. She was just the kind of daughter Sydney would have wanted if she’d had children of her own.

  So Sydney hopefully prepared for Christmas Eve.

  “I’ll pick you up about six,” John said.

  “John,” Sydney said, “I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to pick me up. I’m perfectly capable of driving to your mother’s house by myself.”

  “I know that, but it’s Christmas Eve. I don’t want you driving home alone late at night.”

  “But you’ll have the children with you, and they’ll be tired.”

  “Sydney,” John said firmly, “stop arguing with me. I’m picking you up and that’s that. Let me worry about the kids.”

  When Sydney hung up the phone, she smiled. Although she had told John he didn’t have to worry about her, it was nice to know he did. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her—since she was a teenager, in fact. John’s concern gave her a warm feeling.

  The warm feeling made her feel more tolerant of the goofing off going on in the office that morning. Christmas Eve day was always a total loss as far as work production was concerned, and in other years, this fact had annoyed Sydney. Today she felt just as disinclined toward work as anyone else. The firm was closing at noon, and at eleven-thirty, Sydney walked around and distributed her Christmas gifts.

  Norma squealed with pleasure over her gift certificate. “I know just what I’m going to get with it,” she said. “A new pair of boots. Thank you, Miss Wells.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Sydney said. “Have a wonderful holiday.”

  “You, too.”

  Sydney smiled. She intended to. She hurried home to get ready for John’s arrival.

  “You wore the red dress,” John said. His gaze swept downward. “And I was right about the shoes, too, wasn’t I?”

  Sydney’s heart beat faster at the look in his eyes.

  He smiled into her eyes. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. He walked inside her condo and shut the door behind him.

  Then he took her into his arms and kissed her. John’s kisses always made her greedy for more, and this one was no exception. After a long moment, he finally released her, saying, “We’d better go before I forget myself.”

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of a sprawling red brick ranch house located in Afton Oaks—an older Houston neighborhood inside the Loop. The house was set back on a large lot with several huge trees and was decorated lavishly. Multicolored lights defined the pitched roof and were dotted throughout the bushes and trees. There was a Santa-in-his-sleigh-with-his-reindeer scene on the front lawn, lighted by floodlights, and Christmas candles in all the windows.

  As they walked up the luminaria-lined front walk, Sydney saw a sign that proclaimed the house had won second place in the Christmas decorating contest. It looked as if John’s mother was also a multitalented woman.

  Sydney took a deep breath. She tried to quell her nervousness and wondered if John’s mother would react the same way toward her as John’s sister had. God, she hoped not, or she was in for a long evening.

  Without knocking, John opened the front door, and they walked into a small foyer. The scent of bayberry and pine greeted her, and she could hear muted laughter and voices coming from a room to their right. After helping her remove her coat, John—his hand settled firmly at her waist—drew her toward the room.

  As they entered, Sydney briefly noted the enormous spruce tree in the far corner, the gaily wrapped packages piled under it and the pine boughs and ribbons festooning the mantel above the fireplace.

  Janet and a pleasant-looking, sandy-haired man with blue eyes were seated on a chintz-covered love seat, and Emily and Jeffrey were sitting on the floor playing a game of Chinese checkers.

  “Hi, Sydney,” Emily said. She looked darling in a red velvet jumper and long-sleeved white blouse.

  Jeffrey grinned. He wore a white pullover sweater and dark dress pants.

  Sydney greeted the children, then turned to Janet, who looked festive and pretty in a dark blue velvet dress.

  “This is my husband, Mike,” Janet said. They both stood, and Janet smiled, but Sydney sensed a continued reserve and wondered if it would ever disappear.

  Mike Cameron’s blue eyes were friendly, though, and his smile seemed sincere as he welcomed her.

  Just then, an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and warm, dark eyes like John’s, walked into the room. She wore an apron over her green wool dress and a big smile on her face.

  “Sydney, this is my mother, Cecelia Appleton,” John said. “Mother, this is Sydney. Sydney Wells.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Appleton,” Sydney said, holding out her hand.

  “Oh, please, my dear, call me Cecelia.” John’s mother grasped Sydney’s hand in a firm shake. Her eyes were friendly as they appraised Sydney.

  Cecelia Appleton looked a lot like her daughter, Sydney thought, but at least she seemed more open and receptive to the new woman in her son’s life than Janet was. Sydney immediately felt more relaxed.

  For the next thirty minutes, they sat and talked over glasses of wassail and nibbled at the cheese ball and crackers Cecelia Appleton had set out on a small cut-glass plate.

  Then Cecelia excused herself. “I’ve got some last-minute things to do in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll help you, Mom,” Janet said, rising.

  “No, you stay and visit,” Cecelia said.

  But Janet followed her mother out of the room, and Sydney was glad. Janet’s presence made her feel too tense, too much as if she were on stage, and every word, every gesture, was being weighed and judged.

  The reprieve only lasted fifteen minutes, then Janet reappeared in the doorway and said, “Dinner’s ready.”

  The dining room was just as festive as the living room, with garlands of pinecones and silver ribbon adorning the buffet, a beautiful old mahogany table laid with a lace cloth and a centerpiece of red and white carnations and silver bells.

  Sydney enjoyed the meal. John’s mother and Janet’s husband were both talkers, and kept the conversational ball rolling. Even Janet seemed friendlier.

  Toward the end of the meal, Sydney said, “Cecelia, everything is delicious.”

  Cecelia smiled. “Thank you. I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”

  When Sydney frowned in confusion, everyone laughed.

  “My mother doesn’t cook much,” John explained.

  “Got the whole thing from a catering service,” Cecelia said, not the least bit apologetic.

  Sydney decided she liked John’s mother a lot.

  After dinner, Sydney helped with the cleanup. As the three women worked in the kitchen, Cecelia said, “This is the happiest I’ve seen John in a long time.” She gave Sydney a thoughtful look. “It’s due to you, I’m sure.”

  Sydney felt a rush of warmth toward John’s mother. “What a nice thing to say. Thank you.” She wanted to look at Janet but didn’t.

  A few minutes later, Janet said, “I saw you on the Geneva show. You did a good job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Geneva?” Cecelia said. “Really? You were on her show?”

  “Yes,” Sydney said. She explained about the Montgomery case.

  “That was you?” John’s mother said. “I read about it, but I never connected the name. Of course, John didn’t tell me about you until only recently.” She wiped off the countertop around the sink, then dried her hands in her apron. She turned and smiled at Sydney. “You must be very good.”

  Sydney shrugged. She hung he
r dish towel on the rack and removed the apron John’s mother had insisted she wear. “I care about what I do.”

  “John used to be the same way,” Cecelia said. “Sometimes I wish—” She broke off. “I talk too much.”

  “John is very happy doing what he’s doing now,” Janet said.

  Sydney wondered what was going on. There were undercurrents here she would have liked to know more about.

  After the cleanup, the three women went back to the living room, where the family exchanged presents. After asking John for ideas, Sydney had brought his mother a bottle of Kahlua as a hostess gift, but she hadn’t expected to receive presents from John’s family and was taken aback when Cecelia handed her a gift to open.

  Inside was a hand-painted wooden box suitable for something small like paper clips or earrings.

  “I made it myself,” Cecelia said.

  Sydney wasn’t sure if she should be pleased at the thoughtfulness of the gift or unhappy because here was another woman in John’s life who seemed able to do everything. Well, maybe not everything. Cecelia had admitted to not being able to cook.

  Then John took a small box from under the tree and handed it to Sydney.

  “But I didn’t bring my present for you,” Sydney protested. “I thought we were going to exchange gifts tomorrow.”

  “This is just a small gift. I’ve saved the other one.”

  There was an expression in his eyes that caused a flutter in her stomach, although she wasn’t sure why.

  When Sydney opened the box, she found a beautiful antique brooch inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “Oh, John, thank you. It’s lovely. It’ll look perfect on a suit lapel.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  After the gift opening, they listened to Christmas carols and drank coffee. Then, at about nine-thirty, John said, “Okay, kids. Time to get going. Remember, Santa is coming tonight.”

  Emily rolled her eyes, and Sydney repressed a smile. She knew the Santa talk was for Jeffrey’s benefit. Earlier, John had explained that his mother was coming to his house to spend the night so that he could take Sydney home and not worry about the children.

  After saying goodbye to Janet and Mike, Sydney and the kids piled into John’s car, and Cecelia followed in her car.

  “Come in for a minute while I get the kids settled,” John said when they reached his house.

  Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to Sydney’s.

  When they arrived, John built a fire in her fireplace while Sydney poured them each a glass of wine.

  “Finally,” John said as they sat close together on the couch. “I didn’t think we’d ever be alone.” He took the glass of wine out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table. Then he gathered her close, and they kissed.

  When they finally drew apart, John stroked her cheek and looked into her eyes. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  He kissed her again, this time with a tenderness that stirred her more deeply than she could ever have thought possible.

  Then, still holding her close, he reached into his jacket pocket. “This is my other present,” he said.

  Sydney’s hands shook as she accepted the small velvet jeweler’s box.

  He smiled. “Go on, open it.”

  Heart pounding, she snapped open the lid. Her breath caught. Inside, nestled into gray satin, was an emerald-cut diamond ring. Her thoughts tumbled wildly. What did this mean? Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet John’s gaze.

  “Will you marry me, Sydney?” he said. He removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It glittered with a fiery brilliance.

  Sydney swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then suddenly, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds, her heart filled with an indescribable happiness. “Oh, John,” she said, her voice breaking, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  A long time later, John said, “I wish I didn’t have to leave you tonight.”

  “I know.” Sydney was lying in his arms, warm from the afterglow of their lovemaking and from the knowledge that one day soon, John wouldn’t have to leave her and go home to a solitary bed.

  “Let’s get married soon,” he said.

  “How soon?”

  He chuckled. “How about next week?”

  Sydney knew he was teasing her, and even though she didn’t want anything to intrude upon her happiness, she couldn’t help but remember her full workload and the planning that was going to have to go into her taking time off to get married. For just a few seconds, she entertained the notion of suggesting they elope. She quickly discarded the idea. She knew John would want his children and family present, and she also knew her own family would be hurt if she were to exclude them. She sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” John asked.

  “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how I don’t know a thing about weddings.”

  “I’m sure your mother and sisters do.”

  Sydney didn’t want to think about her mother and sisters. Her mother would probably want her to have a huge wedding with all her sisters as attendants. The thought gave Sydney a headache. “I need more time than a week,” she finally said.

  John smiled. “I know that. Well, how about a spring wedding? Will that give you enough time?”

  “I’ll make it be enough time,” Sydney promised.

  Sydney couldn’t sleep that night. A couple of times she drifted off, but an hour later, she’d be wide-awake, hugging herself, so happy she thought she’d burst.

  She still couldn’t believe it.

  Couldn’t believe she was going to be John’s wife.

  Morning finally came, and with it bright sunshine, although when Sydney walked out onto her patio, she shivered. It was still cold.

  When John arrived at noon, he brought the children up with him. They had decided last night they would tell them together.

  “Do I have to call you Mom?” Emily asked after John broke the news.

  Sydney smiled. “No, Emily, you don’t have to call me Mom.”

  Jeffrey said, “Are you gonna live with us, Sydney?”

  “Yes, she’s going to live with us,” John answered.

  Later, as they drove to her parents’ home, he said, “See? I told you they wouldn’t mind.”

  Sydney glanced back at the kids. They were giggling together over some kind of hand-held game Jeffrey had gotten for Christmas. She wondered if her family would accept her news as matter-of-factly as John’s children. “Did you tell your mother?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “What did she say?”

  “She was happy.” He glanced at her. “She likes you.”

  Sydney smiled. “I like her, too.” She hesitated. “What about Janet? Does she know?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Jan will come around.”

  Sydney decided she’d never have a better opportunity to voice the question. “Why doesn’t she like me, John?”

  “She likes you.”

  He’d answered too fast, and Sydney wasn’t fooled. “No. She doesn’t.”

  He reached over and squeezed her knee. “I told you. She’ll come around.”

  Sydney decided it didn’t matter whether Janet came around or not. Sydney had lived with the disapproval of her own sisters all of her life. She guessed she could live with Janet’s.

  She smiled to herself. She could live with anything as long as she had John.

  “Sydney!” Claire exclaimed. “Congratulations!” As her mother and sisters crowded around her, looking at her ring and talking in excited voices, Sydney raised her eyes and met her father’s gaze. It was his approval she wanted.

  After the initial excitement died down, he came over to her side and hugged her to him briefly. “Are you sure about this?” he said.

  “Very sure.”

  But his question made her uneasy. Why had he asked her if she was su
re? She watched her father carefully throughout the rest of the day. During dinner, she heard him questioning John about the agency.

  “You able to make a good living with that agency of yours?” he asked.

  Sydney cringed. If she’d been sitting closer, she would have said something to her father, but he wasn’t looking at her, and she didn’t want to shout across the table to get his attention. She hoped John wasn’t offended. She tried to catch his attention, but he was already answering her father.

  “The agency’s doing all right. Not as good as we’d like it to, but it takes time to build a business.”

  Sydney sighed with relief. John didn’t seem irritated by her father’s personal question.

  “Why’d you give up your law practice?” her father asked.

  Where had her father been when her sisters were asking John the same questions at Thanksgiving? Sydney wondered. She couldn’t hear John’s answer because Eliza started talking to her. She resolved to talk to her father at the earliest opportunity.

  The opportunity presented itself after dinner when Wendy’s husband engaged John in conversation, and Sydney’s father headed toward his study. Sydney knew her father wanted a cigar, but her mother had forbidden him to smoke one around the children.

  She followed him. “Dad? Can we talk?”

  “Of course.”

  Once inside the study, her father removed a cigar from the box on his desk. While he busied himself lighting it, Sydney plunged in. “Don’t you like John, Dad?”

  Her father looked at her squarely. “He seems like a fine young man.”

  “Why do I sense some reservation in that answer?”

  He shrugged. “I do have reservations, but not because I don’t like John.”

  “What are they?”

  “One of them is what he does for a living.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “What’s wrong is that he’s wasted doing what he’s doing. I’ve talked to some people. The word is that John was a brilliant attorney, very respected, and he threw it all away to be some kind of Mr. Mom.”

  Sydney bristled at her father’s derisive tone, even as she knew she’d had the same kinds of traitorous thoughts herself. “His children needed him. I admire him for putting them first.”