Indecent Marriage (Bright River)

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “How old?”

  “There’s one about your age,” Jessica replied, smiling.

  “Does he look like Jack?”

  Jessica’s grin escalated into laughter. “I’ll get pictures, on my word of honor.”

  “You do that. Canada’s not so far.”

  “Only a couple of hours on a plane.”

  Jean clapped excitedly. “Can we go look at the dress today?” she asked.

  “We certainly can. Go upstairs and change, and we’ll drive over to Carter’s before it closes. I’m going to call Claire’s mother before we leave.”

  Jean dashed out of the room and then ran back in again, kissing Jessica rapidly on the cheek. “You are the best sister ever,” she said enthusiastically and took off down the hall once more.

  It’s worth it, Jessica thought as she heard Jean lope up the stairs. It was worth it for Jean to go to school, have a decent place to live and not agonize about their father, who would be cared for until he got well. Jean wouldn’t be concerned about her sister, either, because she now believed that Jessica was happy, about to marry the man of her dreams. Jack could make all these things possible with a wave of his magic checkbook, and Jessica would take whatever went along with that, because she had to. She had proved before that in a pinch she could do what was necessary, and she was going to do it now.

  She went to call Claire’s mother and arrange for Jean to stay at her house.

  * * * *

  Jack let himself into his empty office and sank wearily into his swivel chair. It had been a long day. He’d made all the arrangements for the wedding, and the last item on his agenda was to call the contractor who’d done the work on his complex. He wanted to get a bid on repairing the Portman house, and although he wasn’t sure his friend would take on such a small job, it was worth a try. He located the folder in a drawer and put in a call to the man’s service, pushing back in his chair as he hung up the receiver and closing his eyes.

  She had said yes. She was really going to marry him. He remembered the look on her face as he’d presented his “deal,” the way it had changed from incredulity, to outrage, to resignation. She was going through with it, all right, but she was far from happy about it. And that was fine. He didn’t want her to be happy.

  Jack ran his hands through his thick, unruly hair, his cold expression an accurate reflection of his feelings. Everything was falling into place, working out exactly as he’d planned. He would have her—at his mercy, at his beck and call, in his bed. He took a grim satisfaction in all of it, but especially in the last. Because from the first moment he’d seen her in Ransom’s office, he’d known that he had to have her.

  The telephone at his elbow rang shrilly, and he picked it up himself as his secretary was long gone. It was the contractor, and he reached an agreement to meet the man at the Portman house in the morning, distracted, at least for the moment, from his problems.

  * * * *

  Jessica found that Jack was as good as his word. By the day of the wedding work was already underway on the house, arrangements had been made to transfer her father to the nursing home when he was discharged from the hospital. A team of accountants was going over the books at the Portman mill with an eye to cutting costs and reorganizing production to make it more efficient. As she dressed that afternoon, Jessica thought that she couldn’t have wished for anything else, except a prospective husband who actually cared for her—but one couldn’t have everything.

  She had chosen a cream wool suit with a fitted waist and a straight skirt for the ceremony. A florist had earlier delivered a camellia corsage and a bouquet of cascading calla lilies, and she glanced in the mirror at Maddy as she tried to pin the corsage to her lapel.

  “Let me do that,” her friend said impatiently, coming to stand next to her. “You never were any good with these things. Remember the New Year’s dance when you practically impaled yourself on the corsage that Yalie brought you?”

  Jessica groaned. “And I spent the whole night trying to get him interested in Lynn Paterson so I could sneak out and be with Jack,” Jessica replied. Then they both realized what she had said, the contrast between her feelings on that occasion and this one, and they regarded each other somberly.

  “You’ll be with him now,” Maddy said quietly, fastening the flowers to Jessica’s jacket and standing back to look at her. “But are you sure you want to go through with it?” Maddy, who knew the whole story, was taking a very dim view of the proceedings.

  “I have to,” Jessica said firmly.

  Maddy shook her head. “I can’t believe Jack is doing this,” she said, sighing as Jean entered the bedroom carrying Jessica’s overnight bag.

  “Doing what?” Jean asked, examining her reflection in the mirror as Jessica shot Maddy a warning look.

  “Oh, rushing your sister into marriage this way,” Maddy said gaily, laughing. “It’s indecent.”

  “The man is in love,” Jean said airily, patting her hair. In the azure organza dress she looked like a southern belle taking a break from a garden party. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “Jean, would you go downstairs and tell the crew working on the roof that we’ll be out of the house tomorrow and they can start on the inside?” Jessica asked.

  “Okay,” Jean agreed, and as soon as she had left the room Jessica rounded on Maddy fiercely.

  “Would you please watch what you say when she’s nearby?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see her coming down the hall.”

  “Well, be careful. I don’t want her to overhear anything to spoil her illusions about this wedding. She thinks it’s wildly romantic, the reunion of two lost souls who’ve been searching for each other for ten years.”

  “It should be, you know,” Maddy said softly, struck by the irony of the situation. “It really should be.”

  For just a moment Jessica faltered, her eyes filling. “I do love him so,” she whispered. “I just wish he was going into this for different reasons. Maddy, when I think about tonight, I get so shaky—”

  “Then don’t think about it,” Maddy advised crisply. “One thing at a time. Get through the ceremony first.”

  Jessica nodded, wiping her eyes.

  “It will be all right,” Maddy added, more gently. “He can’t have changed that much.”

  Jessica didn’t answer.

  Jean came back into the room, carrying her new coat over her arm. “The car is here,” she announced. “And the crew chief says they’ll start on the interior staircase tomorrow, if that’s all right.”

  “Whatever Jack told them is fine,” Jessica answered vaguely, looking around for her purse. Maddy handed it to her, her expression worried, watchful.

  “We’d better go,” Jean urged. “You don’t want to be late.”

  Jessica picked up her bag and looked from one to the other, her sister full of anticipation, her friend doing a good job of masking her concern.

  “I’m ready,” she announced, and the three women descended the stairs to get into the waiting car.

  The drive to the registry office was short, and Jack was waiting for them there with his witness, the office manager of his complex. Jack looked disturbingly handsome in a dark gray, three-piece suit with a white carnation in his lapel, but Jessica was too nervous to appreciate it. They stood together on the worn flowered carpet with the chill October sunlight pouring through the long windows of the colonial building, and were married by the town official. He guided them through the mercifully brief ceremony and shook hands with both of them at its end. Jean handed Jessica her bouquet and tossed rice as Maddy looked on, her large dark eyes missing nothing.

  Jack had insisted on taking all of the participants out to dinner afterward, for the sake of appearances, and Jessica had been too weary to argue the point. So that evening, as the sun was setting, they left the municipal lot and drove to Mario’s. There they met Maddy’s husband and the office manager’s wife, as well as Jean’s date. A small room had been set aside for th
em, complete with music and a serving staff, and the maitre d’ hovered nearby, making sure that “Mr. Jack” was pleased with the arrangements. Jessica tried to eat the excellent dinner, but every time she looked up she saw Jack watching her, his expression unfathomable, and her appetite retreated further into hiding.

  “Let’s dance,” he finally said, and before she could demur he had practically carried her to the tiny dance floor. From that vantage point she could see her guests, who appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, except for Maddy. She was pushing her food around on her plate while her husband carried on an animated conversation with Jack’s office manager.

  “You’d better try to look happy,” Jack said harshly into her ear as he waltzed her past Jean and her partner, who were welded to each other in the current teenaged version of a slow dance.

  “Is that a threat?” she replied, too emotionally exhausted to care about the risk of antagonizing him.

  “A piece of advice. You don’t want to alarm your guests.”

  Jessica looked up at him, manufacturing a smile, but her eyes didn’t change.

  “Is that supposed to be an improvement?” he demanded.

  “What do you want?” she asked wearily. “For me to be dewy eyed with happiness, an eager, blushing bride? You forced me to go through with this, but you can’t force me to look enthusiastic about it.”

  “You look like you’re on your way to the guillotine,” he observed, gazing down at her.

  “Am I?” she whispered, her nerve suddenly failing.

  “It’s been my experience that people generally get what’s coming to them,” he replied coolly.

  “You never give an inch,” she murmured, searching his face. “Not even on your wedding day.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, ducking her head so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “But feeling about me the way you do...” She let the sentence trail off into nothingness, unable to complete it.

  “How do I feel about you?” he asked. If she’d been looking at him she would have noticed the intensity of his expression—his motionless, calculating wait for her answer.

  “You hate me,” she murmured.

  He didn’t react for a moment, and then he released her, leading her back to the table and excusing himself quickly. Puzzled, Jessica stared after him and watched him go to the portable bar in the corner and ask for a drink. He downed it in one gulp, and she turned away to face Maddy, who was blocking her path.

  “How are you doing?” Maddy asked.

  “Okay, I guess,” Jessica answered, managing a weak smile.

  “Where’s the groom?”

  Jessica nodded in the direction of the bar.

  “Fortifying himself for the big night?” Maddy asked, and Jessica cringed.

  “Sorry,” Maddy said. “He looks great, though, doesn’t he? Damn his eyes.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jessica admonished her.

  “Okay, I won’t say it. Who’s that guy with Jean?”

  “The president of the student council. Can you believe it? I heard him ask Jack for his autograph.”

  “He doesn’t look old enough to remember Jack’s playing days.”

  “He looks twelve, or maybe I’m just getting senile.”

  “Don’t be silly. Nobody has acne at twelve. Except me. I had it at nine.”

  Jessica chuckled. “You can always make me laugh.”

  Maddy put her hand on Jessica’s arm. “You’ll call me if you need me?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Maddy sighed. “I feel like your mother.”

  “I feel like my mother too. I’ve aged a great deal since I came back to town.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You look beautiful.”

  “You don’t think anyone can tell?”

  “What? That you’re terrified? Don’t worry about it. You’re a very good actress.”

  “That’s not what Jack said. He thinks I look like I’m on my way to the guillotine.”

  “Maybe he knows you have reason to look that way.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Maddy glanced back at the table and said, “They’re serving dessert. We’d better sit down. This thing is going to wrap up soon.”

  Jessica hardly considered that good news. She felt like the woman in One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, who kept telling stories to prolong her life. She wished the dinner could go on forever.

  But it didn’t. All too soon the guests were saying their goodbyes, as Jean went off with her boyfriend to Claire’s house and Maddy left with her husband. Jack went to settle the bill, and she waited anxiously for the valet to retrieve his car from the lot. Jack arrived just as it was pulling up, and he handed her into it, then went around and took the keys from the boy. Jessica stared out the window as he drove through the dark streets toward his apartment complex on the river, her hands knotted in her lap.

  “I had the valet drop your bag off at my place while we were at dinner,” Jack said, breaking the silence.

  “Thank you,” Jessica said.

  “You didn’t bring much.”

  “No.”

  “Most women can’t stay overnight someplace without a van to carry their clothes.”

  “I have enough.”

  “We can stop off and get anything else you need,” he said with impersonal courtesy.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Jesse, you’re talking to me like I’m your dentist,” Jack said tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t apologize,” he ground out, slamming his fist into the steering wheel.

  Jessica jumped.

  He looked over at her and saw her expression. “We’ll be there shortly,” he said more quietly.

  As if that would comfort her. She nodded woodenly.

  “Did you give your sister the phone number?” he asked.

  She nodded again.

  “Any problem with her staying with her friend?”

  Jessica shook her head.

  “You’ve decided to solve the problem by not talking at all?” he suggested dryly.

  She didn’t answer.

  Jack sighed heavily and twisted the wheel violently as he turned a corner. He pulled into his reserved parking place and they took the elevator to his fourth-floor apartment. Jessica had never seen it, and she looked around in silence as he turned on lights and locked the door behind them.

  The whole apartment, consisting of a kitchen, living room and dining room, with two bedrooms at the back, was done in Swedish modern decor. The clean square lines of the pieces enhanced the effect of the glowing blond wood. The gray carpeting was complemented by gray, green and burgundy striped drapes, and a matching love seat and ottoman in the same fabric were placed next to the brick fireplace. The coffee and accent tables were glass-topped and sparkling, the television and stereo equipment placed in chrome cabinets. The dining room featured an oval hardwood table and six chairs, the seats upholstered in a gray-and-green hunting print. In the kitchen, to her left, the appliances and countertops were off-white, and the floor was covered with pale green tiles. Everything was glossy, immaculate, decidedly masculine, and it took Jessica a minute to realize what was wrong with the place. It didn’t look lived in; there were no photographs, no personal mementos, nothing to indicate that a human being made his home there. It resembled an exquisitely decorated, exorbitantly expensive hotel suite.

  “The bedroom is beyond that door,” Jack indicated, pointing. “You can change in there.”

  Jessica followed the direction of his hand and found herself in a room that was as unlike the others she had just seen as it could be. The furnishings were of the same light oak, and the king-size bed had a spread of the same harmonizing colors as the living room. But there the resemblance ended. The clutter was chaotic: floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books and stacks of folded shirts, still with the cl
eaner’s paper band intact, framed family pictures stuck at odd angles among the litter, and piles of towels and sheets, fresh and ready for use. It was as if he lived in this single room and didn’t let anything personal spill over into the rest of the apartment, because someone might come in and catch him off guard.

  Jessica felt him behind her and turned to see him in the doorway. He groaned when he saw what she was doing, staring at the mess.

  “I should have done something about this before you got here,” he muttered. “It looks like a Chinese laundry.”

  “Not at all,” Jessica said, smiling. “It’s kind of charming, actually. The rest of the apartment doesn’t seem like you, at least the way I remember you, but this does.”

  He looked at her for a moment and then said, “Your memories of me are misleading. I’ve changed greatly from the gullible boy you recall. You won’t find me such an easy target again.”

  “You don’t have to remind me every five minutes,” she said quietly, turning away. “I have received that message.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to begin this singularly blissful union with any misunderstanding between us.”

  Jessica whirled to face him, her mouth open, but he was already gone, pulling the door of the bedroom closed behind him. She sank to the edge of the bed, wondering what the next few hours would bring. Then she heard the sound of rushing water outside the door, and realized he was taking a shower in the hall bathroom, leaving the master bath for her use. She was about to unpack her case when the doorbell rang, and aware that Jack couldn’t hear it, she went to answer the summons.

  A waiter from Mario’s, still in uniform, stood in the corridor, holding a silver bucket containing a magnum of iced champagne.

  “Mrs. Giotti ordered this for you, to be delivered here,” the young man said.

  “Oh, I see. Well, thank you. Just put it on the table, please.” Maddy was trying, in her own way, to add a touch of normalcy to their unusual situation. But Jessica had an idea that her thoughtfulness would be in vain.

  The waiter deposited the bucket on the dining room table and turned to go. Jessica looked around for her purse to get a tip for him, and he said, waving her away, “All taken care of, ma’am. Congratulations, and enjoy it. Good night.”