Sunshine and the Shadowmaster

by Christine Rimmer

  Someone was knocking on the door.

  Heather opened her eyes just as Lucas opened his. They stared at each other.

  Then the knock came again. “Dad? Dad, can I come in?”

  Lucas shot to a sitting position, while Heather yanked the sheet over her head.

  “Dad?”

  “Er, not now, Mark.”

  Heather heard the knob turn. She peeked over the edge of the sheet in horror as Mark stuck his head in the doorway. “But, Dad. I told you last night. I have to...” Mark gulped and stared. “Aunt Heather?” he blurted in complete disbelief.

  Heather wanted to die, right then and there. “Mark, I...”

  Her voice trailed off as Mark’s shocked expression underwent a startling change. All at once, his face was suffused with a joyful inner light.

  “Oh,” he said in awe and wonder. “I know. I know what this means.”

  “You...you do?” Heather stammered.

  “What?” Lucas got out.

  “That you’re getting married.” Mark punched a fist high in a victory salute. “Yes!” Then he clapped his hands. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re getting married, I know it. I can see.” Hooting in glee, Mark did a little triumphant dance, holding both hands high and prancing in a circle right where he stood.

  Heather looked at Lucas and Lucas looked back. Then they both turned their heads to force a smile for Mark.

  “Yes,” they said in unison. “We’re getting married.”

  And Lucas added, “Right away.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Over breakfast, Mark told them that he was the happiest kid in California. Since last winter, he’d had a secret dream that this might happen. And now his dream had come true.

  Mark ate fast. He’d been invited to attend church with Marnie and her family. Then, after that, he and Kenny and Marnie planned to head out on a hike to an abandoned ball mill Marnie knew about northeast of town. Marnie’s stepmom was making lunch for them to take.

  Soon enough, the happiest kid in California was bouncing out the front door. Behind him, he left two abashed adults warily regarding each other across the remains of breakfast.

  Lucas spoke first. “I’ll call Regina. She can keep Mark with her tonight.”

  Heather glanced down at the pancakes she’d barely touched, felt her stomach lurch a little, then looked up at Lucas again. “Why?”

  “So we can drive to Reno.”

  Heather took a sip of apple juice. “And get married today?”

  “Yes.”

  The apple juice seemed to settle her stomach, but Heather pushed her plate aside anyway. “No.”

  She watched Lucas’s eyes grow stormy, though when he spoke, his voice stayed controlled. “I’ll remind you that now Mark believes—”

  “I know what Mark believes. And I don’t plan to disappoint him.”

  Lucas relaxed a little. “So you will marry me?”

  “Yes. Mark’s walking in on us this morning kind of tipped the balance for me. I agree with him, really. I think that people who sleep together ought to be husband and wife. And then, there is the baby to consider.” She lifted her napkin from her lap and laid it beside her plate. “Though I also think that taking the two weeks I wanted to learn about each other would have been wiser.”

  “We’re a long way past wisdom, Heather.” His voice was soft now, slightly rueful.

  She thought of the night before. She’d done such shocking things. And loved them. “I guess we are.”

  With a small sigh, Heather picked up her plate, flatware and napkin and carried them to the counter. As she dumped her uneaten breakfast down the disposal, she couldn’t help thinking that this was a strange way to agree to marry someone. It was so cut-and-dried, so bluntly matter-of-fact. And there had not even been a mention of love.

  But what could she expect? She’d gone and got herself pregnant. And Lucas was only trying in his domineering, take-charge way to make the best of a tough situation.

  Heather didn’t like herself much at that moment. She’d once told Lucas that she would never settle for less than what she’d shared with Jason Lee. And yet, here she was. Settling. Agreeing to marry Lucas primarily because there was a baby on the way.

  “What is it?” Lucas demanded from behind her at the table. “What’s on your mind?”

  Heather didn’t turn. She looked out the window at the side porch and baldly lied. “Oh, nothing. It’s just a big step, that’s all.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she agreed, and told herself to be satisfied. She and Lucas couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, Mark was getting his dream come true—and her baby needed its father.

  For now, that would have to be enough. Certainly, with the commitment made, they’d grow closer in the other ways. She would simply have to do everything she could to make that happen.

  Heather put the dish and flatware into the dishwasher. Behind her, she heard Lucas’s chair scrape the floor as he stood. He came up beside her carrying his own plate and Mark’s as well. Heather stepped back a little, so he could get to the sink. He rinsed the dishes and then bent to put them beside hers.

  She looked down at his dark head, feeling that little contraction of heat and longing in her belly as she recalled how silky his hair had felt between her fingers last night.

  He straightened and met her eyes. A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what she was thinking about.

  “I...uh...” Her voice was as befuddled as her mind.

  “What?” He was still smiling.

  Heather reminded herself that there was more to be decided. “I don’t want to be married in Reno.”

  His smile faded a little. “Then where?”

  “I want to be married here, in North Magdalene.”

  “Why?”

  “I want my family around me, at least everyone who can make it. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just my father and stepmother, my grandpa and my aunts and uncles. And I want Mark to be a part of it. This marriage will mean a lot in his life, too.”

  “All right. That’s reasonable.”

  “Aunt Regina has a big backyard. I’ll ask her if we can have the ceremony there.”

  “When?”

  “Next Saturday. Less than a week. Is that soon enough for you?”

  The dishwasher was still open. He bent again to close it, then straightened once more. “All right. That’s fine.”

  Now came the tough part. Heather swallowed nervously. “And Lucas...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think...we should make love again. Until after the wedding.” She hastened to make herself understood, the words tumbling out of her, nervous and awkward. “It’s only a few days. It probably seems kind of silly to you, after everything we’ve done. But I would feel better. As I said, I think people who sleep together ought to be married. And with Mark in the house, well, you saw what can happen.”

  He was looking at her so strangely. As usual, she hadn’t a clue what might be going through his mind.

  “Um, well?” She tried again. “Is that all right with you?”

  He nodded. “I think I can control myself.”

  She knew her cheeks were red. “Oh. Yes. Well. Good.”

  He smiled a little then, seeing her embarrassment. “So. Is that it?”

  “I think so,” she replied, then couldn’t resist a gentle taunt. “I suppose you can call my dad now and tell him you broke me down.”

  Lucas glanced away. “Heather...” He actually appeared a little nonplussed.

  She put up a hand. “Hey, come on. It’s all right. I know my father. He wouldn’t have laid off you until a date was set. And now it is. We can relax—for about five minutes, anyway, until my aunts start going crazy putting a wedding together in six days.”

  “You’re sure it won’t be too much for you? We could go to Tahoe or Vegas if you don’t like Reno.”

  �
�No. I want it here. I do. And afterward, I want my other week. Here, as we agreed.”

  “All right. But start packing. Because when the two weeks are over, we’re going back to Monterey.”

  Heather thought about the huge house Lucas lived in, and the isolation of it. How would she grow accustomed to living there? She wasn’t sure. But she was obviously going to have to give it her best shot.

  “All right. Unless I can get you to change your mind before the two weeks are up, we’ll live in Monterey.”

  He looked relieved. “Good.”

  Right then the phone rang. Heather picked it up.

  “Hello, Sunshine,” Jared said. “Put Lucas on, will you?”

  She knew what he was up to—checking to see if Lucas had convinced her to say yes yet. “What’s this about, Dad?”

  “Nothing important. Just put him on.”

  “Sure,” she said, then added, as if it were only an afterthought, “Oh, guess what? We’re getting married. Next Saturday.”

  “You are?” Her father’s raspy voice was buoyant suddenly. “That’s great!” And then he thought again. “But why are you waiting so long?”

  “It’s only six days, Dad.”

  “Well, sure. But I get nervous. Anything could happen between now and then.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen, Dad.”

  “So you say now.”

  “Look. I want to get married here in town, with the family around us. Maybe at Aunt Regina’s, if she’ll let us use her backyard. And that will take a few days to arrange.”

  “Well.” Jared thought about that and decided he approved. “Well, that’s damn touching. That’s okay. You get together with the women right away, you hear?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “And congratulations, to you both. I’ll talk to you real soon.”

  “Dad.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about Lucas?”

  “What about him? Give him my congratulations.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk to him.”

  “Me? Naw. It was nothin’.”

  “Why did I know you were going to say that?”

  * * *

  That afternoon, Heather met with Eden and her aunts in the kitchen of her aunt Delilah’s house. After all the hugs and kisses and best wishes had been exchanged, Regina said she’d be delighted to hold the ceremony in her backyard. Olivia, who was a trained chef, volunteered to provide the refreshments, including the cake. Eden would take care of the seating and the flowers and also be Heather’s matron of honor. Aunt Delilah and Aunt Amy would help wherever help was required.

  In fact, Heather was not to worry about a thing. She should concern herself with getting her blood tests, buying a special dress, spending time with Lucas and Mark and preparing for the big move to Monterey. Her family could handle all the wedding plans.

  Heather was reminding them that she didn’t want anything fancy when her Grandpa staggered in carrying a huge, dusty box.

  “Get outta my way, all you women. I ain’t steady without my cane.”

  He hobbled into Aunt Delilah’s kitchen and dropped the big box in the middle of the room. Dust flew up from it as it hit the floor.

  Delilah seemed to recognize the box; her black eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Father. How lovely.”

  “What is it?” Aunt Olivia asked.

  “Open it,” Oggie said. “Have a look.”

  The box was sealed with tape, so Delilah produced a pair of scissors.

  “It’s for our Sunshine,” Oggie instructed proudly, backing toward a kitchen chair. He wheezed a little as he sat. “So you give those scissors to her and let her see what’s inside.”

  Delilah passed the scissors over.

  Heather went to work slitting through the tape. Soon enough, she was peeling back the flaps of the box. Inside she found a fan of dead cedar boughs and a mountain of tissue paper.

  “Cedar keeps the moths away,” Delilah said.

  Heather lifted off the crumbling boughs and set them on the floor. Then she peeled back the tissue. Folded carefully within was a dress.

  “Take it out, girl,” Oggie said.

  Heather lifted out a floor-length wedding gown, a marvel of white satin, with a bodice of delicate lace intricately woven with glass beads and seed pearls. The beaded lace extended to the short bell sleeves, which had satin puffs beneath. The neckline was high in front, dipping to a modest V in back. Heather fingered the beaded lace.

  “It was your Grandma Bathsheba’s,” Oggie said. “I saved it for Delilah.”

  “Yes,” Delilah said. “And when I married Sam two years ago, Father brought it out. But it simply didn’t suit me.” Delilah sighed. “One needs long arms to carry off those sleeves. And the actual fit was all wrong. Mother was long-waisted and tall.” Delilah looked down at her own diminutive figure. “I’m not.”

  “So instead of cuttin’ it up and tryin’ to make it over, we just put it away again,” Oggie added.

  “Here.” Eden scooped up the train and smoothed it out of the way. “Hold it up to yourself.”

  Heather did as her stepmother instructed. It really did look as if it might fit her—and the appreciative sighs from the other women made her pretty sure it would look just fine.

  Delilah said, “I think, if you’d like, we can make any alterations it needs and even get it cleaned before Saturday.”

  Heather looked down at the dress. “It’s so...white,” she said.

  “It’s a weddin’ dress,” Oggie replied. “What the hell color should it be?”

  “Well, Grandpa. I already had a wedding where I wore white.”

  “She means it’s not traditional to wear white the second time around,” Delilah told her father.

  “So who gives two bits for traditional?” Oggie turned to Heather. “The question is, do you want to wear it or not?”

  Heather met her grandfather’s eyes. To turn down the dress would hurt him. She didn’t want that.

  “It means a lot to your old grandpa—” Oggie pulled out all the stops “—that you should marry Lucas Drury in the dress your grandma wore to marry me. Will you do that for me, Sunshine?”

  Heather looked down at the yards of satin and pearl-embroidered lace. Oh, she’d pictured something different. Something in dusty rose, maybe, or sunny yellow.

  And yes, she had to admit it to herself. She’d pictured something less.

  There was something so...sacramental about white. And this wasn’t that kind of marriage, not really.

  “Sunshine,” Oggie groused. “Don’t take a week. The weddin’ day’ll be over, and you’ll still be standin’ here, tryin’ to decide. Get to it. You gonna wear your grandma’s dress or not?”

  It seemed almost sinful, to wear a dress like this for anything less than a true love match.

  But it was so beautiful. And it would please her grandpa so very much....

  “Sunshine, I’m an old man. At this rate, I could pass on to the next life before you make up your mind.”

  She looked at him and forced a smile. “Okay, Grandpa. I’d be honored to wear it.”

  * * *

  Right after the meeting with her aunts, Heather went to see her boss. Lily tossed her spatula down on the grill, threw up her hands and bellowed as if Heather had stuck her between the ribs with a carving knife.

  “What are you doing to me? You’re killing me. How am I gonna run a business when my head waitress ups and quits? I’ll go broke, I won’t make it. And do you care, does it matter one bit to you? Oh, no, you’re getting married to a rich man. You don’t have to work no more!”

  Heather let Lily yell for a while, so she could get it out of her system, though she knew all the customers out in front were getting an earful.

  Finally, when Lily was all shouted out, she grabbed Heather in a bear hug and whispered fiercely into her ear, “You be happy, you hear me? And don’t be a stranger, either.”

  “I won’t,” Heather promised, though Monterey wa
s six hours away.

  But then, it didn’t matter how far away Monterey was. She could visit. Often. Nothing would keep her from doing that.

  Lily took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “You sure you can’t just work two more days? Monday and Tuesday, to give me a chance to find someone else?”

  “Oh, Lil.”

  “Please?”

  “You know I can’t stand to watch you beg.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Oh, all right. But that’s absolutely all I can do.”

  * * *

  When Heather arrived back at the house, Mark had yet to return from Marnie’s. Lucas’s car was parked by the front gate and the door to his room was closed. Heather assumed he must be working, so she didn’t disturb him.

  She had plenty to do, anyway. Even though she hoped to change Lucas’s mind about the move to Monterey, she intended to play fair and assume, for the time being, that she actually would be living there. She went down into the basement for some empty boxes and a stack of old newspapers and began the long process of packing up the things in her house.

  Heather started in the front room, with the books and figurines, the candy bowls and flower vases.

  Once all the books and knickknacks were tucked in boxes, she moved on to the framed photographs on the mantel and on the side tables at either end of the sofa, most of which were mementos of her life with Jason Lee. She carefully wrapped the wedding picture, and some snapshots of the two of them on an uncle’s boat at Bullfinch Bar Reservoir.

  Heather paused to muse over the senior ball picture.

  At the time, of course, she had felt terribly sophisticated in the sheath of plum velvet, while she’d considered Jason Lee to be nothing short of a man of the world in his rented tux with the ruffle-front shirt. But now, all she could think of was how painfully young they both looked, smiling stiffly and holding hands beneath a papier mâché arch all painted up to look like marble, with plastic flowers twined around it. Behind them, the photographer had draped midnight blue satin.

  Heather smiled to herself. One reason she loved the picture was that Jason Lee’s thick blond hair hung in his eyes. Heather had asked the impatient photographer to wait, so she could brush the unruly curls into place with her fingers. However, they had fallen right back over his eyes as soon as they faced the camera once more.