His Sister's Wedding

by Carol Rose

  Hadn't his mother given him his first lesson in doubting the power of love?

  Yet, he'd still responded to his sister's request and invited his mother one step closer. Surely, it meant he was closer to healing that old hurt.

  He hung up the phone. "She's coming. Said she'll be here within the hour."

  "Oh, Luke. Thank you." Melanie hugged her brother. "She's a lonely woman. Our mother. How could we not invite her?"

  He looked down into his sister's face, his own expression unreadable. "Well, she's coming."

  Belatedly remembering the pie, Lillie turned back to the dinner, a bubble of excitement inside her. Luke followed Melanie back into the living room.

  Putting the finishing touches on the meal, Lillie calmed her nervous jitters by reminding herself that Luke wasn't likely to refuse to speak to his mother after inviting her over for Thanksgiving dinner. Still, he seemed subdued when she went into the living room to set the dining table.

  Sitting on the couch next to Scott as they watched the tail end of another football game, Luke said little. He didn't even comment when Scott pulled Melanie onto his lap.

  Lillie watched him surreptitiously, wondering what thoughts were occupying his mind. The expression on his face gave nothing away, but she didn't like the stillness with which he sat. Luke was nothing if not a physical man. He rarely sat unmoving.

  When the doorbell rang half an hour later, Lillie hurried to answer it.

  Janet Howard stood on the doorstep in the gathering gloom of evening, a bunch of flowers in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other, anxiety on her face.

  "Come in," Lillie said warmly, responding to an immediate urge to put the older woman at her ease.

  "Thank you," Janet said, stepping inside. "I appreciate you having me over."

  "We're pleased to have you." Lillie took her coat. "I believe you've met my brother?"

  "Yes," Melanie's mother said, smiling at Scott.

  "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Howard," Scott said.

  Melanie came in from the kitchen. "Mother! Come in."

  "We're almost ready to eat." Lillie urged Janet away from the door, praying Luke would acknowledge his mother.

  "I brought flowers...and wine," Janet said nervously.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lillie saw Luke finally rise from his seat. "Glad you could make it."

  The next half hour couldn't help but have its awkward moments, but Lillie had to give Luke credit. He was doing his best. When they all sat around the table after grace was said, he was almost his normal self. The conversation actually got easier with talk of the wedding plans.

  "So tell me," Scott said, his voice teasing. "What was Melanie like as a child?"

  "Sweet and innocent," Mel responded with a smirk before her mother could say anything.

  Janet laughed, the soft sound mingling with Scott's disbelieving snort.

  "She did have her sweet moments," Janet agreed.

  "Thank you, Mother," Melanie said with dignity.

  "But she wasn't one of those frilly girls, always combing their hair and trying on party dresses," her mother said.

  Scott leaned forward, a wicked smile on his face. "You were a tomboy? I bet you beat up all the little boys who were in love with you."

  "No, I didn't," she protested. "There weren't any boys in love with me. And I wasn't a tomboy. I just...liked different kinds of things than other girls."

  Janet sat back with a reminiscent look on her face. "I remember your frog stage. You were very young."

  "Mother!"

  The older woman turned to Scott, her expression alive with remembered laughter. "She'd bring them into the house and let them go--"

  "They escaped. I never let them go on purpose!"

  "--and we had this dog who went crazy after frogs." Janet shook her head, laughing softly. "Poor frogs. The dog didn't actually catch any of them that we know of, but the frogs were terrorized."

  "We never did find two or three of them," Luke interjected spontaneously, a faint smile on his face.

  "So the dogs might have found a treat or two," Scott surmised with obvious delight at his fiancée’s indignation.

  "No, they didn't!"

  Lillie sat back, barely listening to the banter around the table. It seemed as if Luke had lost himself in the moment, reminiscing about a time long past. He sat now, listening to his sister's spirited defense, an appreciative, humorous gleam in his eyes.

  "Well, at least, I didn't bring home snakes," Melanie declared, sending Luke a pointed glance. "And it wasn't me that tempted a rabid raccoon into the backyard. We nearly had to have rabies shots."

  "A rabid raccoon?" Janet echoed, a faint frown on her face. "I don't remember any raccoon."

  A sudden silence fell over the table.

  "No," Luke said, looking down at his plate as he cut a piece of turkey. "That happened after you left."

  He looked up at his mother, his smile stiff now. "So, tell us, Janet. Where are you working these days?"

  It was a question one might have asked a stranger.

  In the flash of a moment, the intimacy of the conversation was gone. Luke's question and his mother's halting response only underscored the emotional gulf between them.

  Lillie was almost grateful when the meal was over. Cleaning off the table, she responded warmly to Janet's offer of help, despite the decidedly discouraging silence from Luke. To heck with him. She wasn't going to reject this shrinking woman's offer to rinse the dishes. It would have bordered on cruelty.

  Still when all the cleaning up was done and Janet made her goodbyes, Lillie couldn't help feeling wrung out.

  After shutting the door behind Luke's mother, she sank into a chair in the living room, more tired than one simple Thanksgiving meal should have left her.

  Across the small cluster of furniture, Melanie cuddled in Scott's lap, laughingly threatening him with severe reprisals. The two tussled, playing at wrestling in the intimate way of people completely in love.

  "Melanie," Luke said abruptly from where he stood behind the couch. "Won't you at least consider postponing this wedding?"

  "What?" Scott sat up straighter in his chair, all the laughter leaving his face.

  "There's absolutely no reason to rush into this," Luke declared, his face cold, his tone implacable. "Wait a while. A year or two."

  "Luke," Melanie faltered, obviously thrown. "I thought you were beginning to accept--"

  "I accept that I can't stop you from getting married while you're still in school," her brother interrupted. "But nothing has changed my opinion about how foolish this marriage would be."

  "Now, wait just a second!" Scott nudged Melanie off his lap, scooting forward in his chair.

  "Just give it some time," Luke declared roughly. "It might be real, it might not. You're both so damned young."

  "I don't believe you," Scott said incredulously, coming to his feet. "When will you accept that we're in love?"

  Luke made a derisive sound in his throat, his face mocking.

  "Yes," Scott shot back, his color higher. "In love. That won't be different in six months or a year. We could wait five years and it wouldn't matter to you. You just don't want her to ever get married. You want Mel to be as twisted about relationships as you are!"

  His words rang into a well of silence, echoing in the emotionally-charged atmosphere.

  Melanie, who'd stood immobilized, now stepped forward. Standing physically between the two men, she turned to her lover.

  "Hush, Scott. We don't have to argue about this." She turned toward her brother, her chin lifted. "We're getting married, as planned."

  She brought up a pleading hand. "I'm sure about this, Luke. Very, very sure. Yes, it'll be difficult going to school and being married. But it would be harder living apart. I love him. Can't you understand?"

  "No," Scott interjected, "he doesn't understand. Come on, Melanie. Let's get out of here."

  * * *

  "They're spending the night in a hotel,"
Lillie said, walking into the kitchen where Luke sat at the table.

  He looked up. "They've left?"

  "Yes," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "They said they wanted some time alone."

  Luke looked away. "If she were a couple of years younger, I'd have him hauled off for corrupting a minor."

  "How could you start this?" Lillie asked him. "On Thanksgiving, of all days."

  "She's my sister and I'm worried about her." His voice was low, his face unreadable as usual.

  Lillie shook her head slowly. "I don't believe that."

  "What?"

  She met his glare defiantly. "I don't think this is about Melanie. Regardless of how you think of her, she's not a minor. She's a lovely young woman who's fully capable of making her own decisions."

  "How capable were you at nineteen?" he scoffed.

  "It wouldn't matter if she were twenty-nine," Lillie declared. "None of this is because they're too young. You're opposed to this marriage because your mother ran away with a man she thought she was in love with. You don't think Melanie and Scott are really in love because you were engaged at nineteen and your first love turned out to be a faithless Jezebel."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked irritably, pushing back from the table.

  "Angie."

  Luke got up and walked to look out the back window, disgust in every movement. "This situation has nothing to do with Angie. I told you, she's ancient history."

  "She changed your life. Your mother first and then her," Lillie said, her voice wobbling in the middle.

  He turned his head sharply, skewering her with a look. "That's crap."

  "You loved Angie," Lillie said softly, tears clogging her throat, "and she hurt you."

  He swung around, coming to grasp her by the arms. "Don't be making up fairy tales about me. I guess Mel told you about Angie, but you've got it all screwed up."

  Lillie shook her head, aware of the heat of his hands where he held her. "I don't think so. She was your first love and she betrayed you. Like your mother betrayed your father."

  "Christ." He flung away from her. "How many times do I have to tell you? All the hearts and flowers crap means nothing. Yes, I was engaged to Angie and, yes, she dumped me. Hell, she did me a favor."

  "How can you say that?" Lillie demanded. "You opened your heart to her. Took a huge chance when you were young and vulnerable--"

  "Young and stupid," he finished, his voice cruel. "I was hot-headed and possessive. She got tired of it. That's all. End of story. She didn't damage my young psyche. She just helped me get clear on my priorities."

  "Yes, she did that. She convinced you that you couldn't trust your heart, couldn't rely on people."

  "I rely on people," he said, his face shuttered again. "You just have to know what to rely on them for."

  "Love."

  "What the hell does that mean anyway?" he demanded, pacing back to the window. "Do you even know what you mean when you say that word?"

  "Yes," the pit of her stomach felt like a knotted rope. "I mean letting someone mean everything to you. Giving them the power to brighten you day or crush your world. Needing them, only them. Counting on them when you need help. Loving them and letting them love you."

  Luke made a disgusted sound and then asked, "Who was the first man you ever slept with?"

  "What?" she said, bewildered by the sudden shift.

  "Your first lover," he repeated, his gaze intent on her.

  "Ah." Lillie went to the table and picked up a bowl, intending to store the leftovers. She put the bowl down, Luke's question triggering remembrance. "His name was Steve. We met in high school."

  "And you thought you loved him," Luke said gently.

  "Yes."

  "But something happened," he went on in that too soft voice, "and you eventually went your separate ways."

  "It's not that simple," she shot back. "We wanted different things. He had a scholarship. I was going to school here."

  "Life happens that way sometimes," Luke said ironically. "But you thought you loved him."

  "I did love him," Lillie insisted. "He just didn't love me."

  "And the next guy?"

  She flung her head back, glaring at him. "I didn't date again for two years."

  "Then another guy came along," Luke said inexorably. "And you fell for him, too."

  "No," Lillie said. "I was lonely and I made a mistake. I knew it almost immediately, but by then it was hard to get out of the relationship."

  "Well, maybe you weren't in love, but he was. Right? He thought he loved you?"

  "What exactly do you think you're proving with this?" she demanded. "That my life has been less than perfect? That I've made mistakes and been confused? Okay, I acknowledge that. What does that have to do with my brother and your sister? Or anything, for that matter?"

  "Everything," Luke responded, his smile sardonic.

  "I don't think so," she said. "At least, I've been out there, taking chances. Risking. You're hiding from life."

  "My point is that basing your relationships on 'love' hasn't gotten you anywhere. Romance and fairy dust aren't good foundations for the future. That kind of thing comes and goes like the wind."

  "No. Not true love."

  "Geez." He shoved an exasperated hand through his hair. "And how the hell is anyone supposed to know the difference between 'true' love and untrue love? What if Scott and Melanie are as confused as you and your first lover were? They'll be making a huge mistake to get married."

  "They're not in high school," she reminded him.

  "Twenty and twenty-one aren't that much better than sixteen and seventeen."

  "Of course, it's better. If they can vote and be sent to war, they're old enough to make the more intimate decisions in their lives."

  "You'd think so," he said with heavy irony.

  "Getting married has to be a mistake for them because it would have been for you...or for me? Scott and Melanie aren't your average goof-offs. They're going to school, getting the grades. Taking care of their future."

  Luke met her gaze.

  "This is about you," she insisted. "You and your broken heart. You and your inability to take a chance on getting hurt again."

  "No."

  "Yes," she insisted, her voice husky with a welter of emotion. Longing and need. Sadness. They'd talked about love in the abstract. About Scott and Melanie. But nothing about themselves.

  She loved him so much it felt like her heart were spilling over. It had become a need, like water and air. She needed him, needed him to...need her.

  "Tell me," Lillie said, "if love is fairy dust, what do you want from a woman? From me?"

  He crossed the room in an instant, drawing her into his arms. "Sure as hell not fairy dust."

  Pulling her close to his body, he buried his face in the heavy fall of her hair.

  "I want this," he said thickly.

  "Sex," she said, her voice shaking. "That's all?"

  Luke turned his face into the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her sensitive skin.

  Her body vibrating with fear and sadness, hunger and longing, she let her head fall back, reveling in the magic of his touch. The natural scent of him filled her lungs.

  "I'm not the kind of man to put roses on your pillow," he said, his voice rough. "But I can give you this."

  His hand skimmed along her neck, cradling her head in his palm. "And this."

  Lillie closed her eyes as he trailed kisses along her jaw. How much she loved him.

  Drawing her body hard against his, he kissed her, his mouth seducing her, hot and insistent. He tasted of wine-sweet desire, heated and drugging. She sagged against him, clinging to his broad shoulders. Words didn't work, bouncing back and forth like crazed pingpong balls. But this, the touch of their bodies, the hunger catching at her breath. This way she could tell him how she felt.

  His lips rocked over hers, teasing, plundering, worshipping. Kissing him back as if she were starving, Lillie poured
everything into her touch. He was so special, so wonderful. And he'd been hurt so badly. With the stroke of her tongue, the urgency of her hands on his body, she loved him. He deserved this. Deserved to be loved without boundaries.

  Shifting her in his arms, Luke kept his mouth against hers, holding her cradled in one arm. With his free hand he slowly unbuttoned her high-necked dress, button by button, till he brushed the fabric aside and lay his hand against her thundering heart.

  Lost in the heat of their kiss, all thought long since flung aside, she clutched him as if by the very desperation of her touch, she could draw him closer. Tug him into her soul. The whisper of his touch skated over her as he loosened her dress, then the warmth of his strong hand against her breast.

  Plunging her tongue into his mouth, Lillie squirmed against him, urgent and restless, on fire for the consummation ahead. She pulled his shirt loose from his khakis and skimmed her hands up over the powerful planes of his back.

  Locked together, they devoured each other, one kiss spilling into the next, the sound of their breathing harsh and urgent. Slowly, Luke smoothed his hand over the slope of her breast, his touch drawing a moan from her lips.

  Grasping the belt loops of his pants, she pressed against him, pelvis to pelvis and drew a sharp breath of excitement when she felt the heavy evidence of his desire for her.

  This time it was Luke who groaned as she rocked against him, her hands skating up his back under his shirt. Within a minute, he'd loosened the next six buttons down the front of her dress. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he tugged the top of her dress down her arms, letting it fall.

  Covering her breasts with his hands, he cupped her through the satin and lace of her bra.

  Lillie's head fell back as he trailed kisses along her bared throat, his mouth hot and wet against her skin. Her breasts felt tight and warm, confined within the silken cups. Within an instant, he freed her, kneeling before her to draw one turgid nipple into his mouth.

  Writhing in his arms where he held her hips imprisoned, she struggled to pull his shirt off, longing to feel their bare skin in contact. Luke pulled back, releasing her breast with one last tug. He shrugged himself out of his shirt and threw it to the floor before drawing her back against him, his mouth at her other breast.