We both looked at the diamond, which would make quite a gesture if I gave someone the finger, and I felt sure he disliked its placement as much as I did. “I’ll put a guard on it when I get home, and I’ll get it sized soon.” A thought struck me. “Did you also buy my...” I cleared my throat, another wave of ‘what have I done?’ hitting me. “My wedding ring?”
He nodded. “Same size,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“Okay, then I’ll get them both resized at some point before... the...”
I trailed off, and he reached across the table and took my hand, pushing the ring up toward my palm as he did. “I know, Celia. This is weird. For me too. I think it’s going to be okay, though.”
I looked into his eyes, felt the calm his touch always gave me, and knew it would be. He was my safe place, and I could be his too. We would make this work.
“So,” I said, squeezing his hand to tell him I agreed, “when do you want to get married?”
“I checked, and I’m busy every weekend until June 2nd,” he said, waving at our waitress with his free hand. “Would that work for you?”
“I think so,” I said as the waitress arrived. He ordered champagne for us, and when she left he winked at me and said, “Didn’t want to order it before you said you’d marry me.”
“Yeah, that was a real risk,” I said, smiling back. “You had no idea whether I’d say yes. Not like I asked you or anything.”
He laughed. “So, June 2nd?”
I pulled out my phone. “Let me check.”
I had nothing that weekend, so I said, “Sounds good. And are we going away after?”
He grimaced and shook his head, and I had a moment of feeling stupid for suggesting a honeymoon given how unromantic our lives would be before he said, “I’m honestly not sure I can any time soon. Work is nuts. And if I do get the promotion it’ll be even more nuts.”
I nodded, feeling better that he didn’t seem to think going away together was an unreasonable suggestion, and he went on. “And while we’re talking about being away, I want to make 100% sure you’re okay with me gambling on occasion. You said you were before but now that we’re getting married I need to be sure you get it. I will be doing that. Not more than a few times a year, and not with money I can’t afford to lose, but I’ll do it.”
“I understand, and I’m fine with it. And you need to understand that I’ll be going for my friend dinner once a month and that I sometimes like to be by myself. At least once a week, and sometimes more.” I’d always loved my alone time, especially near water, although maybe I wouldn’t need it as much with Owen’s presence in my life. “I don’t want that to be a problem.”
He shook his head. “I’m okay with that. And the kid thing... you’re still thinking a couple of years from now? Like two?”
I nodded. “Two sounds about right. I’d like to be married for a bit first, and I don’t feel old enough yet to be a mother.” That was all true, but the real reason was that I couldn’t imagine how I’d handle feeling my child’s emotions the way I felt everyone else’s. Normal mothers seemed to be devastated enough when their children were hurt or sad; how would I survive my direct connection with the person I loved most? Besides, if this weird marriage fell apart, I didn’t want a kid to be dragged into the drama the way I was with my parents.
Owen dug in his briefcase again as he said, “I understand. That works.” He pulled out a checkbook and filled out a check then tore it out and handed it to me.
I looked at it, then at him. “Ten thousand dollars?”
“For the wedding. If you need more, let me know. I don’t have any particular preferences, so arrange everything the way you want. I’ll give you a short list of people who need to be invited from my side but I won’t interfere any more than that.”
I looked at the check again. I’d never really thought about how I’d plan my wedding but I wouldn’t have assumed I’d do it entirely by myself. “Do you want a wedding party?”
He shrugged. “If you want someone to stand up with you, go for it. I’m okay without it.”
The waitress arrived with our champagne, and once she’d removed the cork with a faint hiss and poured us each a drink Owen waited until she’d moved away then picked up his glass and said, “I look forward to marrying you, Celia.”
I smiled and we clinked our glasses then each took a sip before getting to work on deciding what we’d have for dinner.
As I turned my menu page, a movement outside the window caught my eye and I saw Larissa and Thomas walking past. Before I could look away, they fell into an embrace, clinging together as though they never wanted to let go. Then he tipped her chin up and kissed her, his hand stroking gently over her cheek as he did.
I turned in my chair so my back was to the window. I didn’t need to watch. I could feel their desire and happiness.
And I didn’t want to, so I laid my hand atop Owen’s.
He looked up, startled, and I smiled as the contact quieted my soul. “June 2nd will be a good day.”
He smiled back. “Yes, it will.”
A good day. Not the kind of wedding day Larissa and Thomas would have. But a good day.
Chapter Ten
“Wow,” Nadine said, looking from Owen to me and back again. “Wow.”
Troy laughed. “Don’t waste any time, do you? I guess when it’s ‘twu wuv’ you don’t want to wait around.” His tone made it clear he didn’t believe it was any kind of ‘wuv’.
Kelly elbowed him. “Shut up.” She swallowed hard then said to Owen, “But seriously, why so--” Her eyes moved to my stomach. “I... oh.”
I sucked in quickly. “No, nothing like that,” I said, trying not to feel fat and also trying to ignore the rush of sadness I’d felt from her when Owen announced at the end of the Monday morning staff meeting that we were engaged. It still lingered around her like a bad odor and I didn’t understand it. Did she want Owen? I didn’t like that idea, and exactly how little I liked it surprised and worried me. Since they’d been working together for over a year, if he’d wanted her they could have been together long before he met Melissa. So I had to assume he didn’t and therefore what she wanted didn’t matter. “I’m not-- we just thought, why wait?”
Kelly’s expression would have told me she could think of a few reasons even if I couldn’t feel her frustration and anger, but she just gave a slow shrug and said, “I guess.”
Nadine, apparently having gotten her head around two of her employees getting engaged after knowing each other a month, grinned at us. “Congratulations, of course. How exciting! When and where and all that?”
“June 2nd,” Owen said, smiling at her. “And as for the rest of it...” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Celia’s calling all the shots.”
Kelly said, “This year?” at the same time as Nadine began, “You don’t care at--”
Kelly gave our boss an apologetic smile for talking over her and Nadine cleared her throat. “I mean, I guess it’s typical for the bride to get what she wants and the groom to just show up. Right?”
As I realized I was ‘the bride’, a phrase I’d never heard applied to myself before, Troy said, “I helped Hayley with all our planning.” He gave me a ‘you poor girl, your fiancé isn’t as good as me’ smile. “If you need any ideas, let me know. I’m happy to help.”
Owen’s hand tightened on my shoulder, then he let go and wrapped his arm around me. “No need,” he said. “Celia’s more than capable.”
The room filled with a stench of, ‘yeah, but why should she have to do it alone?’ mixed with a hint of ‘something’s not right here’ that it didn’t take an empath to recognize.
I made myself lean into Owen, not wanting anyone to guess that our engagement was about as romantic as a tax audit. After our Friday night dinner we’d kissed outside the restaurant but I’d gone home alone and I’d spent the weekend, also alone, searching for a wedding venue available six weeks from now that wasn’t a total dump. I didn’t even want romance
, but I couldn’t let anyone know how things truly stood with us. “That’s the best thing about him,” I said, trying for a goofy grin. “He lets me have whatever I want.”
Owen chuckled and pulled me closer. “You bet,” he said, while I wondered if he felt as much like an actor on a stage as I did.
Troy’s eyes flicked between us. “Well, I hope it all works out,” he said, sounding almost like he meant it. “Even though it’s so fast.” His eyes dipped to my belly.
I made myself smile, and promised myself a martini for every time someone assumed I was pregnant.
*****
If I’d had even half of those martinis, I’d have succumbed to alcohol poisoning by the end of the morning. The news spread like the common cold through a kindergarten classroom, and everyone I saw congratulated me then peeked at my stomach. I considered writing, “Baby not on board,” across it with marker but thought I’d better not.
The highlight of the day, though, was a moment Troy tried hard to make a lowlight.
Nadine had pulled Owen and I aside as we left the meeting to remind us that the bank required employees in a romantic relationship to inform upper management. Since the prime reason for our marriage from Owen’s side was the promotion he wanted from Lawrence I knew he wouldn’t mind this, and I didn’t either. Owen went off to send the necessary email, while Nadine gave my belly a quick glance then smiled awkwardly and went off to her desk as I made another mark on my mental martini list, and right after lunch a ripple of excitement went through our office area and I heard Lawrence’s voice carrying across the cubicles.
“Where’s the happy couple?”
I left my cubicle and met up with Owen in front of him.
Lawrence’s grin lit up his face. “Congratulations, you two. I wish you all the best.”
I smiled, and Owen said, “Thank you, sir.”
The man who had the power to grant Owen’s longed-for promotion shook his head. “Call me ‘Lawrence’, son. About time you did.”
I felt a blast of rage hit me in the back like someone had thrown a rock at me, and I didn’t need to look to know it was Troy. The engagement had moved Owen one big step closer to Troy’s cozy position with Lawrence and he did not approve.
I loved that.
“Thank you, Lawrence,” Owen said, sounding only a tiny bit awkward saying the name, as Troy moved up beside us before saying, “It’s quite something, isn’t it, Lawrence? Already engaged? When they only met, what...” He turned to me. “Three weeks ago, wasn’t it?”
“A month, actually,” I said, and reached over to take Owen’s hand both because it’d look good and because it would shield me from Troy’s frustration and fury. “But that was more than long enough to recognize how great Owen is.”
“Really.” The undertone of menace in Troy’s voice scared me though I couldn’t feel it. “Not just to recognize he had money?” He chuckled, with no amusement. “Although I’m sure he has other great qualities.”
As I took a breath to respond, although I didn’t know what to say, Lawrence stepped in. “Son,” he said, looking over the top of his glasses at Troy, “are you suggesting Celia is the type of woman who marries a man to get his money? That’s awfully insulting of you.”
If Lawrence had been a dog all the fur on the back of his neck would have been up and he’d have been growling. I remembered that at the height of his career he’d married, quickly, a much younger woman, and I suspected he was extra-sensitive to hints about gold-diggers.
Troy blustered and I cuddled in closer to Owen and said to Lawrence, ignoring Troy, “Of course that’s not it. I knew I wanted to marry Owen the week we met.” I turned and looked up at Owen. “When it’s right, you just know.”
Owen smiled down at me then kissed my forehead. “Right back at you.”
“Oh, that’s not a kiss,” Troy said. “Come on, Owen, give the poor girl a--”
Owen shut him up by kissing me square on the mouth. He did it perfectly, making it the tiniest bit longer and more passionate than was appropriate for the office without going overboard, and when it ended I grinned up at him and said, “Exhibit A for your qualities.”
He laughed, Lawrence said, “Attaboy, son,” and Troy stood looking like someone who’d just realized he dropped his phone in the toilet.
Chapter Eleven
The next five weeks were insane. I didn’t tell my family about my upcoming wedding, of course, but I told my friends and though they didn’t understand why we were marrying so fast they were great at helping me get everything ready.
As we’d suspected would happen, a few days after we’d announced our engagement Lawrence had promised my fiancé the much-wanted promotion. “Nothing in writing, though,” Owen told me when we had dinner that night, smiling wryly. “Lawrence wants to be sure we actually get married first.”
Not officially giving Owen the promotion didn’t stop Lawrence from having a lot more work assigned to him. Owen did offer to help me with the wedding planning if I needed it, perhaps feeling guilty after Troy’s comments about how he should be helping, but I knew he truly couldn’t spare the time and I also found myself enjoying the process of figuring out what kind of wedding would be right for us. The more I thought about what Owen would like the more I felt like I knew him.
The last Saturday in May, with all the plans well under way, Owen and I drove to his mom’s place for my wedding shower. “Have fun,” he said when we were stopped in her driveway.
“Will do,” I said, trying to hide my fears. Owen had downplayed Linda’s reaction to our engagement but even the way he told it she’d been utterly shocked. Though she apparently told Owen she approved of me once she calmed down, I still felt uncomfortable about seeing her again. I also couldn’t imagine how Melissa felt, and I didn’t want to sit with Owen’s former fiancée and open my shower presents. Such a bizarre situation.
When I didn’t get out of the car right away Owen reached out and took my hand, and I leaned toward him as his touch settled me. “It’ll be fine, Celia,” he said gently. “And so will the wedding. You’ve done an amazing job.”
I couldn’t hold back a grin. “Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely.” He kissed my hand. “Everything sounds terrific. I’m looking forward to it.”
Thrilled that he was pleased with what I’d booked, and also glad he’d been listening when I told him about it, I floated into Linda’s house.
Where I was quickly brought down to earth.
Melissa didn’t tell me that she disapproved of my marrying Owen, but she was quiet and withdrawn and didn’t even respond beyond a faint smile when Linda teased her about how we should have a double wedding.
When Linda took a brief break from being annoying, Tam stepped in to change the subject. “So,” she said, smiling too brightly and fiddling with the pretty amethyst necklace her husband Leonard had given her for her birthday last week, “tell us all about the wedding. I want to know every detail. And then we’ll do your presents.”
Linda rolled her eyes at Tam. “My house, darling, my job to run things. But you’re right. I want to know what they’re up to as well. Owen doesn’t tell me nothing.”
“Well,” I said, feeling uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on me, “we’re getting married at the York Wedding Chamber, at the Civic Centre, and--”
“We know that part, we got the invitation,” Linda said, nudging me. “Cut to the details. Like your dress and the reception and the honeymoon and all that. Oh, and are you changing your name?”
“I am.” Owen had seemed to like the idea of it so I’d probably have done it even if I hadn’t liked the thought of breaking another tie to my family.
“Big mistake.” My soon-to-be-mother-in-law shook her head. “If I could do it all over again I’d keep my maiden name. Saves all those changes after divorce.”
Dawn gasped. “Don’t say the ‘d word’, you’ll jinx them.”
Linda rolled her eyes and took a breath to reply, so before
she could I jumped in and began telling them about the lovely mint green sleeveless dress I’d bought, since I thought a big white wedding dress would look ridiculous at city hall and wasn’t really appropriate for our kind of marriage anyhow, and the flowers I’d ordered and the amazing dinner I’d arranged in a private room at the restaurant where we’d gotten engaged and the delicious cake I’d sampled, and when I finished Linda said, “It does sound nice. And the honeymoon?”
I shook my head. “Maybe later. Right now, Owen’s crazy busy with work.”
Tam said, “Oh, but--” then was cut off by Linda. “Make him take at least a few days off, Celia,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s nothing but work for that boy and it’s not right. Work or...” She cleared her throat. “Or gambling, I guess. But only on the cruise.”
Dawn looked at me, her eyebrows raised, and I silently cursed Linda for bringing that up. “I know about that,” I said, trying to sound even more unconcerned than I was. “It’s no problem in my opinion. But he really can’t spare any time for a honeymoon now. We’ll work something out later.” I didn’t know if we would, but she didn’t need to know that.
Linda muttered what sounded like, “Only reason to get married is the honeymoon,” and since I knew she and her Raul had gone off for another trip together right after getting married on the cruise I felt sure that was what she’d said. I didn’t agree, obviously.
She brightened. “Bachelorette party? When and where? Tell me I didn’t miss it already.”
I shook my head and Dawn said, “She won’t have one, at least not the good kind. No strippers, no candy penis necklaces, no getting hammered. I don’t get it.”
Linda clearly didn’t either, judging by her horror, but I’d been insistent. I’d been to several of the kinds of parties Dawn wanted in the past, and I’d hated every last one. I’d spent the evening hammered not by alcohol but by waves of embarrassment and frustration and anger and occasional smugness. I’d assumed all of that came from my disgust with the concept of one last fling before settling down, but when I’d first considered having my own party I’d realized I’d probably been picking up the emotions of the brides-to-be and their shrieking entourages and the strippers themselves. No thanks.
Safe Harbor? Page 6