“Louise has been having false labor. Her baby is going to be here any day now and I need to get back to work to get a clear head about what is going on before she leaves.”
“You need to be back here for the wedding.”
What she needed was to get back to Boston and plant herself firmly in her old life. She hadn’t talked to Devin since their argument and he'd run off. For all she knew, he probably thought she’d gone back to Boston to marry Roger.
Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth. No matter what happened from this point on in her relationship with Devin, she knew she couldn’t stay with Roger. She wasn’t in love with him. Plain and simple. And it had taken all the heartache and crying she’d done over Devin to come to that realization.
She'd come back here, locked herself in her room, half hoping Devin would come after her, half knowing he wouldn't. Now she didn't know how she was going to undo the mess she'd made.
One thing she did know for sure, this charade she'd been playing with her mother had gone too far.
“Mom, I know the wedding isn't for you and Daddy.”
To her credit, Ruthie gave up the charade as well. “Devin told you?”
Cara nodded, all the anger she'd had pent up over her mother's deception was long gone. “I know your intentions were good. But I can't marry Devin just because you want me to give you grandchildren.”
Ruthie sighed heavily. “The only thing I really want is for my daughter to be happy. And judging by the way you've been moping around for the last few days, you're far from it.”
Cara closed her eyes, trying her best to keep the tears that threatened her from falling. Lord knows she'd shed enough trying to figure out why she was being so stubborn. Even after all the heartache and tears, she still couldn't bring herself to gamble her friendship with Devin away. They'd been there and done that seventeen years ago. And they'd lost. She didn't want to lose again.
She drew in a fortifying breath. Time and distance is what she needed to put things back into perspective. She needed to plant herself firmly in her old routine and decide which direction to turn.
Except clarity was the last thing she got when she returned to her Back Bay condo later that afternoon. Every time the phone rang, she ran to answer it, expecting it to be Devin. But it never was. It left her lots of idle time to sift through paperwork and check on orders she'd already checked and to think...
How could her mother have actually thought she’d go through with an arranged marriage? It was completely archaic and, well, stupid. She was not the marrying kind of woman. She’d said that all along and that was all there was to it.
Her stomach ached from the greasy potato chips she’d eaten for breakfast and she clutched her stomach to ease the pain.
Devin. As angry as she was with him for playing along with her mother’s game, damn, she loved him. Could it really be like he said? Could they really have it all and a family, too?
We’d make an awesome team. She’d replayed the words over and over again until her head hurt. She rubbed the soft aching spot at her temple and slouched back on her sofa. She and Devin, they would make an incredible team.
Sometimes life is just a crap shoot. Sometimes you have to risk losing everything to get what it is you really want.
Distance had not given her the answers she wanted. It had only forced her to look at the questions she'd been running away from. She needed to talk to Devin. Only then would the answers come clearly.
But first, she needed to straighten out things with Roger. What she needed to say wasn’t going to be easy, and she wasn’t sure how either one of them would handle it, but she had a two-carat reason for trying. With her decision made, her stomach suddenly felt a little better and her head a little lighter.
She didn’t bother to reach Roger until well into the evening. That’s the way things had always been. Except before, she’d always been working, too. She’d had the whole afternoon to sit and think about exactly what she was going to say. She’d sat in her studio, staring at the bolts of fabric and odds and ends, rehearsing out loud her speech about why things just weren’t going to work between them.
Standing outside his apartment later that evening, she felt confident, and almost herself again. Until the door swung open and she saw Roger’s face.
“We need to talk,” she said.
In the end, Roger’s reaction to their breakup was surprisingly good. He’d admitted the changes in her mood had frightened him, but he thought that marriage was all it would take to change things back to the smooth existence they’d always had. He was adamant that children were not part of his future. When she left an hour later, he gave her a long hug at the door and she was glad that it was over.
If only she’d taken Devin’s advice earlier and talked to Roger about her feelings, things wouldn’t have gotten so fouled up.
She’d chosen to follow her heart and talk to her best friend instead.
* * *
Devin yanked at the collar of his stiffly starched tuxedo shirt and fiddled with the black tie choking him. He couldn't believe he let Ruthie convince him this little plan to go through with the wedding was going to work.
He hadn’t seen or heard from Cara since that day on the ferry. At first he thought she'd need some time and he was going to give it to her for however long it took for her to see that they belonged together.
He’d wrapped himself around the Palmer case, putting together the necessary paperwork for appeal so he could prove the so called evidence the state had against Wendell Palmer was bogus. After much haggling, the judge agreed to an appeal. The cloud of doubt hanging over him about his career seemed a little clearer and he actually felt good about what he did for a living for the first time in a long time.
Now if he could only get Cara to see things a little clearer. He had to be the biggest fool to think Cara would actually show up here today and marry him today after the way she'd raced off. So what was he doing dressed in a tuxedo on the hottest Labor Day in history, waiting for a bride that was never going to show?
Yeah, he was a fool all right. And he was in love. That pretty much summed it up.
“She’s not coming,” he ground out nervously, pacing back and forth like an expecting father.
Ruthie stilled him and fiddled with his tie, her usual jovial smile planted on her face. She was dressed in a cream colored chiffon dress. Her hair looked stiff from too much hairspray meant to combat the humidity.
Her voice was confident when she spoke. “Don’t you worry. You don’t know my Cara the way I do.”
“She’s too damn stubborn,” Devin sputtered, darting a glance to the double doors at the back of the church, willing Cara to appear there.
“Hmmm. You’re right about that.”
“She’s headstrong.”
“Right again.”
“She can be impossibly irrational.”
Ruthie chuckled and patted his shoulder. “And she’s completely in love with you. She’s always been.”
Devin’s breath caught in his throat. Was she? After that glorious night they’d made love in Nantucket, he would have bet his last nickel Cara loved him as deeply as he loved her. But she’d never uttered the words.
“Don’t worry yourself so much,” Ruthie said. “You’ll sweat in your tux and you look much too handsome for that. I know my Cara. She’ll be here.”
* * *
Cara’s heart fell through the sand when she saw the “For Rent” sign hanging in the window of Devin’s cottage. Except, it wasn’t really Devin’s cottage. He’d only rented it to come here for her birthday and decide what he wanted to do with his life. Apparently he’d made his decision and she wasn’t part of it.
The headlines in the Boston Globe that morning buzzed about how Devin Michaels had scored another legal victory. The appeals judge had decided to listen to Devin's case. Cara had no doubt he'd score yet another legal victory. With so much work to do on the case, he’d probably gone back to Manhat
tan.
How could she have been so stupid? Cara chided herself as she ran down the beach toward her parents’ home. Maybe they hadn’t left yet. Maybe the movers were still putting the furniture on the truck and she still had time to find out where Devin had gone.
As she approached the house, she paused and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. The movers were there. But instead of loading furniture on, they were unloading. The new owners were nowhere in sight. But neither was her family. They had already left town without her having a chance to say good-bye.
Cara did nothing to hold back the tears rolling down her burning cheeks. She’d been so pigheaded; trying to prove everyone wrong she couldn’t see that she was the one who’d been wrong.
So wrong.
She loved Devin. She always had and always would. But she’d gone ahead and pushed him away one too many times.
She forced air into her lungs to help stop her sobbing. As she walked through the white picket gate, sidestepping the strange men unloading boxes and chairs, she felt lonely. The only signs that she and her family had called this house home were the names etched in the cement walkway leading up to the front porch. She and Manny had “helped” their father build the walk when they were kids. They’d put their hand print in the cement before it dried. Her mother scribbled the names.
She sat cross-legged on the walk, feeling the gritty sand embedded there dig into her thighs. With her hand splayed, she touched the tiny print she’d made years ago. Back then her only ambition was to please her parents. How had she gotten so headstrong and stubborn that she’d sabotage her own happiness with Devin just to prove them wrong?
A crunching sound on the pavement caused her to look up. She was met by her brother Manny’s warm smile.
“That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” Manny held his arms open wide and Cara rushed up to give her brother a hug. “I knew I’d find you here. Everyone’s been worried?”
“I know. I should have been here to see Mom and Dad off,” she sobbed. “I’ve been so stupid.”
“So I’ve heard.”
She pulled away, wiping her tears from her cheeks as she looked at him. It amazed her that after all this time seeing him in the collar, she still could look at Manny and see the snotty little brother he’d always been to her. “Who’s been talking about me?”
He laughed. “Everyone! When the bride doesn’t show up for her own wedding, people start to talk.”
“What do--you mean they’re all down at the church...waiting for me?”
“Yes. Mom sent me back here to see if I could find you. Devin’s having a coronary.”
Her eyes flew open wide. “Devin’s there!?”
Manny chuckled. “It’s usually customary for the groom to be present at the wedding, too.”
“Wedding,” she muttered. Yes, it was Labor Day. It was supposed to be the day her parents would renew their wedding vows. Or rather, she and Devin would become man and wife.
“I thought he’d gone back to Manhattan.”
Manny shook his head. “You can’t get rid of Devin that easy. Not this time anyway.” He pointed to the moving van. “This is all his stuff.”
Tears rolled down Cara’s cheeks and she trembled. “Devin bought the house?” She couldn’t believe it. This must have been one of the “plans” Devin had mentioned while they were in Nantucket. Except she’d been too stubborn to listen to him.
Manny bent down and kissed her cheek. “Come on, Sis. This isn’t just Mom’s day, it belongs to you and Devin, too. Your gown is down at the church. All we have to do is get you there.”
* * *
The organist started to play the traditional wedding march as Harold took Cara by the arm. She was wearing the dress intended to be a bridesmaid’s dress for her mother and father’s ceremony. But then, of course, her mother had planned this whole affair all along with Cara being the center of attention. It was her wedding day.
“Wait, Daddy.”
Harold groaned and checked the watch on his wrist. “What now?”
“I need to see Devin.”
He grinned. “Honey, you have the rest of your life.”
“No, I need to see him before we get married.”
“Why?”
“I just do.”
“Are you sure?”
Cara nodded. “Please?”
Harold heaved a sigh. “Okay, but your mother won’t be too happy about the groom seeing you in your dress before the wedding.”
Cocking her head, she sputtered, “All of the sudden she’s going to pull tradition on me?”
He nodded. “You have a point, dear. I’ll see if I can smuggle him back here without your mother catching wind of it.”
She threw her arms around her father. “Thank you, Daddy.”
As the door closed, Cara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d never told Devin she loved him. Somehow, that was vitally important for her to do before they became man and wife. Nothing else mattered more than that. The cake could melt in the heat, the balloons could pop, the canopy on the back lawn of the rectory could collapse, and all the flowers in Westport could go ahead and wilt in the sun.
But it was important that Devin knew she was marrying him because she loved him more than anything else in the world. She always had and she always would. She needed to say it and he deserved to hear it from her first, before she professed it in front of a church filled with people.
Cara paced the room, smoothing down the skirt of her dress with her sweaty palms. She turned to the sound of the knock on the door and waited for it to open before she was able to breathe again.
Devin’s worried face greeted her. He looked bewildered, tired, and absolutely the most wonderful sight a girl could ever hope for. His black tuxedo was neat as a pin and he filled out every inch of it as if it were tailor formed to his body.
It took visible effort for him to breathe, too, as he carefully closed the door to the bride’s room behind him and took a few steps into the room. His face, she’d never forget it, was like that of a starving man who’d finally had a banquet laid out in front of him.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, then took in a deep breath, stretching the fabric of his tuxedo jacket against his chest.
She couldn’t help but feel giddy and lightheaded. “Do you really think so?”
He smiled at her shocked expression. “I always have.”
She looked down at the bouquet of tiny pink and white princess roses in her hand. “What are we doing here?”
“I thought we were getting married.” For a fleeting second a worried expression clouded his smile. “Are we?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” No, that wasn’t it. That’s not what she wanted to say. “You were right. I was scared, Devin. The way I behaved, it was never that I didn’t want to be with you. So much was changing around me, Mom and Dad moving to Florida, me re-evaluating my life, you coming back to Westport. I was scared of all that change and I thought, if I could just keep us the way we were, you wouldn’t leave, too.”
She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
“I just want you to be the first to hear me say how much I truly love you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and advanced toward her. She wanted so much for him to take her in his arms and melt the uncertainty away, but there was still so much that needed to be said. She held up her hand to keep him from his quest and his expression collapsed.
“Is that really enough, Dev? We’ve been down this road before. I don’t want to blow it.”
“That's not going to happen,” he assured her with a smile. “Seventeen years ago we weren’t ready to love each other. Our ambition never would have survived if our love did. One of us would have had to give up our dreams for the other to realize theirs. I had to leave you then because I couldn’t face us having to choose. But we don’t have to make that choice anymore.”
“Are you sure? This is all so crazy.”
It was if the clouds parted and the heavens were shining down on them. It all made sense with Devin, just like she knew it would. Time had seasoned them enough to realize what was important.
She hooked her arm around his and reached up, giving him a sound kiss on the mouth. “I guess we’ve waited long enough, huh?”
He smiled his answer and led her to the door. After opening it a crack, she pushed back the door and swung around, a sinking feeling flooding her stomach.
“The marriage license,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.
“What about it?”
“My mother must have had it forged. It’s not legal!”
Devin returned a devilish grin, pulling her into his arms. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
She pushed at his chest, not finding the same humor he found in their predicament. “I finally have all that I want right here in my arms and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it go now on a minor technicality. I want this marriage contract to be legal!”
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, opening the door. “Manny is used to your mother’s antics, remember? He’s got another marriage license for us to sign right after the ceremony. We can take that down to city hall and apply for a valid license then. This marriage contract is legal.”
Minutes later, with her arm hooked on her father’s, staring at Devin through the sheer fabric of her veil, she realized, in their hearts, it had always been.
The End
Dear Reader:
Although written more than a decade ago, THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT still brings a smile to my face. How many of you can see your family in these pages? I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it.
I love to hear from readers. Please email me at [email protected] or visit me at http://www.lisamondello.blogspot.com.
The Marriage Contract Page 17