Prescription: Marry Her Immediately

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Although Amy would miss everyone, she didn’t regret the chance to spend the day alone with her family. Still, having other people around might make it easier to pretend there were no problems.

  She’d done her best to keep Quent from guessing how much it upset her to see other women flirting with him. It wouldn’t get easier when they went back to work tomorrow, either. Amy wasn’t sure she could rein in her temper if Hallie made any more remarks about how she would never maintain a platonic marriage to Quent.

  “You asked for it,” she told herself. “So quit complaining.”

  After her shower, she dried her hair and dressed in jeans and a festive sweater. When she emerged, she noted that Quent’s door was shut. Until now, she hadn’t even been certain he’d come home last night.

  Greg poked his head out of the children’s room. “Did Santa come?” he asked eagerly. “Can I go see?”

  It was on the tip of Amy’s tongue to agree when she realized that Quent wouldn’t want to miss such a special occasion with the children. “Let’s see if your uncle’s awake,” she said.

  “I can’t wait!” Greg hopped from one foot to another. He looked adorable in his new pajamas with elves appliquéd on the front.

  Surely Quent would forgive her for waking him, Amy thought. “I’ll get him up.”

  “Okay. Hurry!”

  She tapped on the office door. If only the two of them shared a room, she’d have known what time he came home and he’d probably have awakened when she did. No doubt they’d get into a rhythm eventually.

  Amy was about to try the knob when Quent opened the door himself. He looked remarkably bright-eyed behind his glasses. “You didn’t start without me, did you?” he asked, tightening the belt on his robe. With his hair rumpled and his pajama collar creased, he radiated the playful air she loved.

  “No, of course not.” Her spirits rose. For one thing, he wasn’t avoiding her gaze this morning. For another, judging by his expression, he was almost as excited as his nephew. “Tara’s not up.”

  “She doesn’t know about Santa yet,” Greg said.

  “Well, she’s going to learn,” Quent said. “Since this is our first Christmas as a family, let’s establish some traditions.”

  “Like what?” asked the boy.

  “Here’s the first one.” He swept Amy into a hug, then planted a kiss on her mouth. Although it wasn’t the slow, sexy kind, it felt wonderful.

  “I like that tradition.” Reluctantly, she released her grip on his shoulders. The scent of his hair clung to her.

  “Here’s the second part.” He lifted Greg so high the boy could touch the ceiling. “Okay, we’ve established that you can fly. How are you at landings?”

  Greg giggled. “Not too fast!”

  Carefully, Quent lowered him. “One elf, coming down to earth.”

  “Do it again!”

  “Okay. In the meantime, I hope Amy will be kind enough to get Tara. Because the third part of the tradition is that we all go together to see what Santa brought.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Quent’s mood made him irresistible, and Amy intended to enjoy every minute of the day. This was as close to heaven as she had any right to expect.

  Within minutes, they were all assembled in the hallway. Although Tara had no idea what was going on, she mirrored their anticipation.

  “Let’s not start shouting if we find a big guy in a red coat sleeping off his busy night,” Quent said. “We’ll just quietly take whatever’s left in his bag of toys, okay?”

  “Santa won’t be asleep!” Greg chortled. “He’s back at the North Pole.”

  “Quent, I can’t believe you’re proposing to mug Santa!” Amy added in mock reproof.

  “Finders keepers.” He winked at her. “Okay, let’s go!”

  As they surged forward, Amy hoped Quent wouldn’t mind that this year, with so much going on, she hadn’t been very imaginative in buying things for him. She doubted he’d even remembered to get her a gift. That was okay with her. Christmas was for the children.

  When Greg reached the pile of presents beneath the tree, he gave a shout. “Look! Santa put our pictures on them so we know who gets what!”

  “That was clever,” Quent said under his breath.

  “I was picking up a roll of film and it occurred to me I could make good use of the pictures, since the kids can’t read yet,” she explained in a low voice. Last night, she’d piled each child’s gifts separately, with a photo on top. As a lark, she’d done the same with Quent’s gifts.

  To her surprise, she saw three large wrapped boxes that hadn’t been there when she went to bed. Instead of a photo, they were topped by a stick-figure drawing of a woman done on a sheet from a medical prescription pad. “Now, who could have left this?”

  “Santa must have consulted one of his medical elves,” Quent said.

  Greg was already tearing the paper off his largest box. “Here are the rules!” Quent announced. “Each person gets to open one present. Then the next person, and so on. We keep going around until we’re done.”

  “Who made those rules?” Although Amy liked the idea, she didn’t want her new husband to set himself up as domestic lawgiver. “At our house, it was every man for himself.”

  “It’s an old Ladd tradition,” he said.

  “Mom and Dad did it that way, too.” Greg, having elected himself to go first, yanked off a large bow. With a cry of delight, his little sister grabbed it and sat down to play with what was, for her, apparently the best toy of all.

  Amy sat on the couch and watched Quent help his nephew open the large set of Lego pieces. “You can play with it after breakfast,” she said. “Don’t forget, we’re keeping them in my room so Tara won’t eat them.”

  “Okay!” Getting into the spirit of the day, Greg turned to his sister. “Do you want me to help you open your present?”

  “Open!” she said. The top package revealed a set of rubber bath duckies. Still hanging on to the bow, Tara gathered them to her. “Bath!”

  “We’ll do that later, honey,” Amy said. “Quent, you’re next.”

  “Nope.” Sitting on the floor, he wrapped his arms around his knees. “You start.”

  Although she was dying of curiosity, she said, “I thought the pattern was boy-girl-boy-girl.”

  “Fooled you,” he said. “It’s older child, then younger child, then older adult, younger adult.”

  “I have to go start the coffee.” In the excitement, she’d forgotten. “Go ahead.” Hurrying out of the room, Amy smiled to herself. If Quent figured himself to be the boss of this household, he had another think coming.

  By the time she returned, he’d given in to temptation and was smoothing out a sweatshirt and sweatpants with the name of his favorite baseball team on them. “All right! Go team!”

  “Go! Team!” echoed Tara.

  “Your turn, Mommy,” said Greg.

  The name sent a happy shiver through Amy. “What can this be?” She hefted the top package, which felt as if it might contain clothing.

  “Open it!” Greg said.

  Inside, Amy found a hand-painted silk nightgown and peignoir. “This is gorgeous.” The colors suited her perfectly, and she knew how sensual it would feel next to her skin. “Thank you, Santa!”

  “Why are you looking at Daddy?” Greg didn’t seem to notice that he’d applied the name to his uncle. She saw a flare of recognition on Quent’s face, however.

  “Because he put in a good word for me,” she said. “Somebody had to let Santa know that I haven’t been naughty this year.”

  “Not nearly naughty enough,” Quent murmured. Fortunately, Greg was too busy opening his next gift to pay any attention.

  He cheered when he saw that it contained a prereading computer game with his favorite cartoon characters. Tara liked her next present, a teddy bear, so much that she dropped the bow to hug it. For Quent, there was a new hardcover novel by his favorite science-fiction author, which he tucked away to read later.
r />   Curious, Amy lifted her second box, which weighed even less than the first. “I can’t imagine how Santa found anything so light,” she said. “He must have been worried about the weight limit on his sleigh.”

  “Quit trying to second-guess Saint Nick and open it,” said her husband.

  Lying on a nest of tissue paper, Amy found a generous gift certificate to her favorite shoe store. “This is great!” With a twinkle, she added, “Santa must have heard that a certain person forgot to pack my shoes.”

  Greg snatched up his third gift. “My turn!” After tearing off the wrappings, he found a collection of sand toys that Lucy had sent. “Can we go to the beach?”

  “We’ll go Saturday, if the weather’s good,” Amy said. Although the water would be too cold for swimming, the beach should be pleasant if the sun came out.

  “I’ll help you build a castle,” Quent promised.

  Inside her package, Tara was thrilled to find sand toys of her own. For himself, Quent unwrapped an umbrella and coordinated hat. “I see somebody noticed I don’t own much rain gear.”

  “Mommy has an umbrella,” Greg pointed out.

  “Yes, but it won’t cover all four of us,” Amy said. “I’m sorry I—I mean, Santa—didn’t come up with anything more clever. He had short notice.”

  “That’s okay. Your last present is kind of small.” Quent indicated the box, which was every bit as large as the other two.

  “Mostly tissue paper?” Amy guessed.

  “Something like that. Santa ran out of time.” To Greg, he explained, “The elves leave the grown-ups for last.”

  “Let’s see what’s inside!” Greg said.

  Amy discovered that she didn’t want to open it. Not right away. She’d purposely given Quent impersonal presents, because anything more intimate might make him uncomfortable. He’d been more imaginative with his choices, such as the nightgown set, but Amy wanted more, so much more. She ached for her husband to love her the way she loved him. She wanted him to show that this marriage of convenience had a chance of becoming a real union of two souls.

  There was no way his last gift could accomplish that. If she opened the package now, the disappointment would show on her face. Her fervent attempts to maintain the fiction that everything was fine would be ruined, along with the rest of the day.

  “You know what?” she said. “I’m starving. I’ll bet you guys are, too. Let’s eat and I’ll save this for later when we’re not so rushed.”

  “You promised pancakes.” Needing no urging, Greg started for the kitchen.

  “Then pancakes it shall be.”

  “Cakes!” echoed Tara.

  Quent’s jaw twitched as if he meant to object. When the little girl scampered in her brother’s wake, however, he shrugged. “Maybe it is a good idea to wait until later.”

  “Great.”

  Soon the pancakes were sizzling on the electric grill while Quent poured orange juice. Tara, who no longer spilled much, took pride in drinking out of her sipper cup.

  The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was fun helping the children play with their new toys, and there were phone calls to make to the grandparents and Lucy. Amy managed to delay opening her last gift.

  She hoped that, once the children lay down for their naps, she and Quent could snatch some time alone. She didn’t torment herself with the vain hope that anything had changed. She simply wanted to be with him, even if they were playing a video game or reading books side by side.

  Although the unopened present teased at her mind, she was still feeling vulnerable. Better to wait until it didn’t seem like a big deal.

  After lunch, Amy put Tara to bed and read to Greg. He dozed off halfway through the book.

  The condo had fallen silent by the time Amy came out to look for Quent. She found him in the office, fully dressed and sound asleep on his folded-out couch.

  He’d worked late last night. No wonder he was tired, Amy told herself, trying to ignore her letdown. This was a great Christmas. The best ever. She didn’t want to mar it by wishing for things she couldn’t have.

  In the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of coffee and set out a leftover muffin from lunch. As she finished the snack, it struck her that it might be wise to open her third present alone. That way, when it turned out to be another gift certificate or a joke item, she could prepare a credible expression of pleasure before her husband awoke. Pleased at the idea, she carried her cup and plate to the sink.

  In the living room, toys spilled across the floor. Quent’s new jogging outfit lay draped over the back of the couch alongside Amy’s peignoir. How much this room had changed in the six weeks since she’d invited him back after their jog, she thought, and not merely because of the storm repairs, either.

  Before, everything had been orderly and under control. And lonely, although she hadn’t admitted it to herself. Now it vibrated with messy, energetic life.

  Smiling, Amy sat down on the sofa. She was finally in the mood to open her last gift.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Amy had suspected, most of the contents were tissue paper. What she didn’t expect was the long jeweler’s box ensconced in the center.

  Her heartbeat speeded. Almost afraid to open it, she rubbed her fingers over the velvety surface. Please don’t let this be Quent’s idea of a joke. Scarcely daring to breathe, she pried the edges apart.

  A curve of diamonds sparkled at her. Amy drew in a sharp breath. She remembered trying not to stare at the necklace when she and Quent visited the jewelry store. What she loved most was that the delicate design matched the one on her wedding ring.

  As she picked it up, the diamonds blazed with brilliant clarity. When and why had Quent purchased it? Surely he hadn’t secretly bought the necklace before their wedding and saved it until Christmas, she thought. Only a man deeply in love would do that.

  As she fastened it around her neck, Amy spotted a card tucked inside the jeweler’s box. Her fingers suddenly clumsy, she fumbled twice before managing to extract it.

  As she read silently, a masculine voice from the hallway spoke the words aloud. Quent seemed to be inside her head as he voiced what he’d written in the note. “I love you and I’m glad we’re married.”

  Amy couldn’t move. This had to be a fantasy. She didn’t want to turn around and break the spell.

  “I hope you like it.” Quent crossed toward her. “If not, we can exchange it for something else.”

  Amy’s fingers tightened on the card. “How—why—?”

  “Can you forgive me for being such an oaf?” A woman could get lost in those sea-blue eyes, so close to hers, she reflected as he sat beside her. “It took me a long time to understand why I held back. I was afraid, Amy.”

  She could hardly swallow. “Of what?”

  “In one night, I lost three people I loved. I became a doctor so I could save people, and then I was utterly powerless to help them.” She’d never seen such vulnerability on Quent’s face. “Twice, you were nearly injured, right in my arms. I could lose you, too.”

  “Life doesn’t offer insurance policies. We have to take our chances.” Amy curved her palm around his cheek and felt the suppleness beneath the morning stubble.

  “What I felt wasn’t logical.” He lowered his hand onto hers. “I didn’t even know what was going on inside me. The way I grew up, we never talked about our troubles. We avoided them and hoped they’d go away.”

  Although Amy wanted to grab the man and kiss him senseless, she needed answers first. “What changed your mind?”

  “Last night, I heard you talking to Greg and realized how much harm I was doing by keeping you at arm’s length.” Quent’s gaze seared into hers. “Then at the hospital, the memories of losing my family hit me like a slug in the jaw. That’s when I saw that I’d been afraid to love because life is so fragile. But you know what? I can’t help it. I fell in love with you anyway.”

  “I love you no matter what lies ahead,” Amy said. “I’ll take whate
ver time we’re given, and treasure every second of it.”

  A smile started at one corner of his mouth and spread until his whole face glowed. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for acting like a jerk?”

  “On one condition,” Amy said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You repeat the part where you say you love me.”

  Strong arms pulled her onto Quent’s lap and he buried his face in her hair. “I love you, I will always love you, and I’d marry you again a thousand times if I got the chance.”

  “You’re not still angry because I didn’t tell you the truth about being a virgin?”

  “Hey, I’m the master at avoiding important issues,” he said. “How can I blame you for doing the same?”

  “Kiss me, you big lug, and make me forget everything except…” His mouth came down on hers, cutting off the words. Time stood still, and it would have suited Amy fine if it never moved again.

  When he came up for air, Quent said, “Any more questions?”

  “No. I mean, yes.”

  “Fire away.”

  “How did you get the necklace?”

  He chuckled. “You can thank Mrs. McLanahan for that. Right after my big revelation, while I was walking her to her car, I wished out loud that it wasn’t too late to buy this for you.”

  “So she waved her fairy godmother wand and it appeared in the parking garage?” Amy teased.

  “The jeweler is her friend, remember?” he said. “She persuaded the poor guy to come down to his store in the middle of the night and sell me the necklace.”

  “On Christmas Eve?” Amy couldn’t believe anyone was that good-hearted.

  “Apparently he’s a lonely widower who was sitting up watching a rerun of It’s a Wonderful Life. I believe an invitation to brunch today also featured into the bargain.” Quent shook his head in amazement. “We owe that woman a great deal.”

  “She’s a sweetheart. I hope she enjoys her brunch,” Amy said.

  “So do I.” To her surprise, he struggled to his feet while still holding her. Amazingly, he only staggered a little. “Time to carry my bride across the threshold.”