The Rags-To-Riches Wife

by Metsy Hingle

  As though she’d sensed him watching her, Lily looked up from the magazine. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Jack, what are you doing here?”

  “Meeting my wife.” He shut the door, and, as he strode across the room where she was sitting, he felt four pairs of eyes on him. Only then did he notice the other women, all in various stages of pregnancy, watching him. He leaned over, kissed Lily lightly, then took the empty seat beside her.

  “I told you you didn’t have to come. I know how busy you are at work.”

  “I wanted to come, and you’re more important to me than work. Besides I’m the boss. If I want to play hooky for a few hours, I can.”

  Her lips twitched. Then she looked over at the two bags he’d set down beside them. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s that?”

  Before he could answer, the door opened. “Mrs. Cartwright,” the nurse called.

  Lily rose. So did he. “Is it okay if my husband comes in with me?”

  “Of course,” the blond nurse with the name tag that read Sissy said with a smile. She led them down the hall and opened the door to one of the patient rooms. “You can go ahead and get undressed. Dr. Robinson will be with you in a few minutes.”

  Once Lily was in the hospital gown and seated on the examining-room table with a sheet draped over her, she said, “You never did answer my question. What’s in the bags? And you’d better not tell me it’s another gift for me.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you it’s a gift for you,” he told her. He’d given her a scarf for their one-week anniversary. Granted it had been a designer scarf with a respectable price tag on it because of the logo, but he had bought it because it reminded him of her. Judging from her flustered reaction, gifts weren’t something Lily was used to receiving. He intended to change that. He handed her the smaller of the two bags.

  “Jack, you don’t have to buy me things,” she told him as she took the bag.

  “I like buying you things. Besides it’s just a little something. I was passing the store window, saw it and thought you might like it.”

  She removed the jeweler’s box from the bed of tissues in the bag and opened it. “Oh, Jack, it’s beautiful,” she said as she stared at the platinum pin. It was shaped like a lily with a diamond for the bloom’s center, and Jack had taken one look at it and known it was meant for Lily. When she looked up at him again, tears swam in her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and kissed her gently before handing her the other bag. “This one is for the baby.”

  She’d managed to blink back the threatening tears as she took the bag bearing the toy store’s logo from him. “I suppose you just happened to be walking by this window, too?”

  “I’ll take the fifth on that one. Go ahead and open it.”

  She dug through the mounds of tissue and pulled out the tiny football. “You do realize the baby might be a girl, don’t you?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

  “Who says our daughter can’t play football?” he teased. “Besides, I’ve got that covered. There’s another gift in the bag.”

  Lily pulled out the tiny pink ballet slippers and she laughed. “I can see it now, our daughter running down the football field in ballet slippers to catch a pass.”

  He laughed. And dear God, he thought, how he loved to see Lily laugh. Unable to resist, he kissed her. And as always, he felt that fullness in his chest and the sense that this was right. They were right together. He’d never considered himself a romantic person who believed in things like fate. He’d always believed he was responsible for his own fate. But he couldn’t help thinking that somehow he and Lily were meant to be together.

  At the sound of a throat clearing, they broke apart. “Good morning,” Dr. Robinson said as she closed the door behind her. After introductions were made and Lily had been examined, the doctor put down her stethoscope. “Everything looks fine, Lily. I’m going to go ahead and do an ultrasound to see how your little one’s doing.”

  Jack watched in fascination as the doctor moved the wand over Lily’s belly and pointed out the baby on the screen. “Is that a leg?” he asked.

  Dr. Robinson laughed. “Yes. And those are the arms,” she pointed out. “Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know,” Lily said and looked over at him.

  “It’s up to you,” he told her. “If you’d rather wait, it’s all right with me.”

  “I think I want to wait.”

  “Then we’ll wait,” Jack said.

  The doctor smiled. “I’ll print you a copy of this,” she told them. “It’ll be your first picture of the baby.”

  An hour later, seated across a restaurant table from Lily, Jack was marveling at the baby’s first picture and mulling over whether he should have it framed. “What do you think? Am I crazy?”

  “No. And I think it’s so sweet of you.”

  He winced. “There’s that wordsweet again. You keep calling me that and you’re going to ruin my reputation as a tough lawyer.”

  “All right, Mr. Tough-Guy Lawyer, I think having it framed is very macho.”

  Jack laughed. “Tell you what. I know you need to get back to your office and I have to be in court this afternoon. So what do you say to having lunch with me again tomorrow and we’ll go by Color and see about getting it framed?” he asked, referring to the chic gallery run by Emma Dearborn.

  “Oh, Jack, I would love to. But you remember Felicity Farnsworth, the wedding planner, who helped plan our wedding?” When he nodded, she continued, “Well, she asked me to have lunch with her and a few of her friends at the country club tomorrow and I already agreed to go.”

  “No problem. We’ll do it another time,” he told her and motioned to the waiter to bring a check. “You enjoy yourself with the Debs Club.”

  “The Debs Club?”

  He grinned. “Well, that’s what everyone in Eastwick calls them. I’m not sure who came up with the name. But I think it started years ago when they were presented as debutantes at the Eastwick Cotillion. There’s five of them and, with the exception of Vanessa Thorpe, they all went to school and were introduced to society together. You never saw one of them without the other, so people starting calling them the Debs Club. They meet at the club on a regular basis for lunch, always at the same table and always in the Emerald Room.”

  “Who else is in this club besides Felicity?” she asked. “And why would they want me to have lunch with them?”

  “In answer to your first question, there’s Abby Talbot, Bunny Baldwin’s daughter whom you know already. Then there’s Emma Dearborn who owns Color and is engaged to Reed Kelly. Mary Duvall who’s a local artist and Vanessa Thorpe, Stuart Thorpe’s widow,” he told her. “As to your second question, I imagine they want you to join them for lunch because Felicity told them what a remarkable woman you are.”

  “I think you might be a little biased.”

  “Not at all. Just stating the facts,” he told her. “You should enjoy yourself and the food at the club is excellent.”

  “I know. I met Bunny there once for lunch when she couldn’t come by the Eastwick Cares offices.” She paused, furrowed her brow. “I didn’t ask, but I’m assuming Felicity will leave my name at the gate so the guard will let me through. Last time, Bunny forgot and I was late meeting her because I wasn’t on the list.”

  “Lily, you don’t need anyone to put your name on a guest list. You’re my wife. That means you’re a member of the Eastwick Country Club now. The club membership, the boat, our house, it’s all yours, too.”

  “You’re very generous.”

  “We’re married. Married people share.” He paused, decided to broach the issue of her apartment again. “Speaking of sharing, I thought maybe we could go by your apartment this weekend and see about moving the rest of your things.”

  “I told you, I doubt my stuff will fit in with your things. Besides there’s no hurry. My lease runs for another six months. Let’s just see how things go.�
� She glanced at her watch. “Look at the time! I’d better get back to the office. I have an appointment and you need to get to court.”

  Disappointed, he tossed some bills on the table and walked with Lily to her car. He wished he knew how to convince her that their marriage wasn’t temporary, thathe wasn’t temporary. Because he knew in his gut that’s why she was holding back. It was the reason she insisted on keeping the apartment. She didn’t trust him.

  “Thanks again for coming to the doctor’s office and for the beautiful pin. I’ll see you tonight.

  “Lily, you forgot something,” he told her when she started to get in the car.

  “What?”

  “This.” He hauled her into his arms and kissed her right then and there. Ignoring the whoops from the construction crew on the corner, he gave her a real kiss—one that involved mouths and teeth and tongues. When he lifted his head, she had a dazed expression in her eyes. Good, he thought and turned around and walked away.

  Nine

  “Thank you,” Lily told the waiter as he refilled her iced tea. She looked around the Emerald Room of the Eastwick Country Club. She could see where it got its name, she decided, noting the Irish green color of the decor and the malachite bar. Looking past the open French doors, she gazed out at the pool area. Everything was green and bright and springlike. The pink-and-white blossoms of the mountain laurel were a shock of color against the lawn and trees. And even from her seat inside the club, she could smell the sweet fragrance from the colorful shrubs. She noted the tiny white lights strung through the tree branches and imagined it must be beautiful out on the patio area in the moonlight. For a moment, she could almost see herself and Jack out there, dancing under the starlight.

  “You decided on a dessert yet, Lily?” Felicity asked.

  At the sound of her name, Lily yanked her attention back to the lunch table and picked the first thing on the menu. “The cheesecake with strawberries, please.”

  While the waiter continued to take their orders, she glanced around at her lunch companions. They were all so different, she thought. And every one of them was beautiful. Tall, slender with sleek black hair and violet eyes, Emma Dearborn was stunning. She was also a sharp contrast to the delicate beauty of Vanessa Thorpe whose petite frame and pale blond hair gave her an air of innocence. Lily knew from Jack that Vanessa was already a widow. Mary Duvall had a quieter beauty with her brown bob and soft brown eyes. Yet there was a mysterious air about her that Lily suspected came from being an artist and from living in Europe. Felicity was her bubbly self and she had turned more than one head when she’d walked into the club. Lily wasn’t sure if it was the other woman’s voluptuous figure and spiky blond hair or her fearless attitude. With lovely blue eyes and long blond hair, Abby was the classic beauty. Although Lily guessed Abby to be slightly shorter than her own five-foot-six-inch frame, the other woman was petite and carried herself with a grace that a person was born with and could never be learned. There was a sadness about Abby that called out to her, Lily thought, and she surmised the other woman was still grieving for her mother.

  Once the waiter was gone, Emma leaned closer and said, “Okay, Lily, as you can see we desperately need you on the country club’s fund-raising committee. From everything that Felicity told me about you and after talking to Mrs. Cartwright about your work with Eastwick Cares, we all think you’d be great on the committee.”

  “She’s right, Lily,” Abby added. “My mother always spoke so highly of you. She said that it wasn’t until you came to work at Eastwick Cares that the agency really saw any significant success with their fund-raisers.”

  “That was very kind of her,” Lily said. “And it was kind of all of you to ask me. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but the answer’s yes. I’d love to be on the committee.”

  “One more thing,” Emma said. “You’ve probably heard that the five of us are called the Debs Club.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” Lily told her.

  “It’s okay,” Emma laughed. “We don’t mind. In fact, we refer to ourselves by that name now. The truth is we’re just five women with very busy lives who are friends. We try to get together about once a month for a girls-only lunch where we can celebrate, complain or just hang out with each other.”

  “It sounds nice.”

  “We were hoping you’d say that, weren’t we ladies?” They all nodded. “We want you to join our little club, Lily,” Emma told her.

  Surprised, Lily responded, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes,” Abby told her.

  “Yes,” she repeated and they all laughed.

  “Okay, ladies. I think this deserves a toast,” Felicity said and raised her glass. “To Lily Cartwright, the newest member of the Eastwick Country Club’s Fund-raising Committee and the newest addition to the Debs Club.”

  Glasses clinked all around. As they chatted and sampled each other’s desserts, Lily found herself enjoying her new friends. She almost felt as though she really did belong. It made her begin to believe that miracles were possible. Maybe someday Jack would love her the way she loved him.

  A voluptuous blonde with a rock the size of Texas on her finger stopped in front of their table. “Hello, ladies. It looks like you girls are having a celebration.”

  “Hello, Delia. And yes, we are having a celebration,” Emma said cooly. “Lily just became a member of the Debs Club.”

  “Congratulations,” Delia said and the woman’s smile was as phony as her dye job. “I’m Delia Forrester, by the way.”

  “How do you do?” Lily responded politely and shook the other woman’s hand. “I’m Lily Miller…um, Cartwright.”

  Delia looked at Lily’s belly. “Then you must be Jack Cartwright’s new bride.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “What a lucky girl you are. Jack is such awonderful man,” she said in a way that made Lily wonder just how well Delia Forrester knew him. “Do give him my best.”

  “Of course,” Lily said and resumed her seat. But she couldn’t shake the image of Delia with Jack out of her head. “Who is she?”

  “Frank Forrester’s trophy wife,” Felicity told her and it was clear from her tone that she didn’t care for Delia. Lily couldn’t say that she cared much for her either.

  “Okay, now where were we?” Felicity asked.

  “We were toasting our newest Deb,” Abby told her.

  “Maybe we should take out a notice in the newspapers, announcing that Lily is now officially a member of the Debs Club,” Felicity joked.

  “Wouldn’t that set tongues to wagging,” Vanessa said with a smile.

  “If only your mom were still alive, Abby,” Emma began. “Bunny was the one who knew everything about everyone. So if you wanted to know what was happening in Eastwick, like Lily becoming a member of the Debs Club, all you had to do was pick up herSocial Diary. ”

  Abby smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. There was also something else in her eyes. But before Lily could decipher it, Abby said, “Mother always used to say that if she had been around in Hedda Hopper’s and Louella Parsons’ heyday, she’d have given them a run for their money.”

  “And she was right,” Felicity added.

  “I know you said you were too upset when Bunny first died even to think about starting up theDiary again,” Emma remarked. “Have you given it any more thought?”

  “Actually, it’s one of the reasons I was glad we were meeting today. You remember how my mother was so mysterious about her sources and kept a journal with her notes about her scoops for theSocial Diary in her safe?”

  “Sure,” Emma said. And they all nodded in agreement.

  “Well, last week I finally started going through Mother’s things,” Abby continued. “Only, when I opened the safe where she kept her journals, it was empty. Someone has stolen her journals.”

  “Are you serious?” Felicity asked.

  Abby nodded.

  “But who? Why?” Lily asked.

 
“I don’t know. But I’ve asked the police to open a new inquest into Mother’s death. I don’t think she died of a heart attack. I think she was murdered,” Abby declared.

  “Murdered?” Mary repeated and brought her hand to her throat.

  “Yes. I think something in her journals may have gotten Mother killed.”

  Lily shivered at the idea. “I’m sorry, Abby. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “I just wanted all of you to know because the police are probably going to be questioning people and they might question you.”

  Mary tipped over her glass and it spilled, catching the skirt of Lily’s dress. “I’m so sorry,” Mary began and started blotting at the dress with a napkin. “I can’t believe what a klutz I am.”