“Afraid of flying?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as amused to her as it did to him.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in a plane,” she murmured, eyes squeezed shut as she took slow, steady breaths. If they were helping her, he couldn’t tell.
“Afraid of heights then?”
“There is that.” She squinted one eye open to peek at him, then closed them tightly as the plane began to taxi down the runway. “Mostly I’m afraid of crashing. My plan has always been to die quietly and painlessly in my sleep when I’m ninety-nine, not splattered all over the ground like a water balloon at twenty-seven.” Ian had to clear his throat several times before he could ask the question that he just knew he had to have the answer to.
“Why not a hundred?”
“I don’t want to be too old.” At that he did burst out laughing.
“And ninety-nine isn’t?”
“Well, ninety-nine is only two digits. One hundred is three,” she explained, as though it made perfect sense.
“I guess that is true. I always figured I’d be old when I hit sixty-five.”
“No, that’s not old anymore. Not when the new forty is fifty.”
“What?”
“Forty used to be considered middle aged. Now people are healthier, living longer and thinking younger, so fifty is the new forty.”
“Is that something you just made up?”
“No, I did not. Don’t you read magazines?”
“Nope.”
“You ought to try it someday. You could learn a lot from them.”
“You can let go now.”
“Huh?”
“We’ve leveled off so it’s clear sailing from here. Rather clear flying.”
“We’re in the air?” Annie gasped, eyes opening wide. Ian nodded. “How- How high?”
“I’m guessing that you really don’t want to know the answer to that question, so I’m not going to tell you. But I will give you this.” He tossed a small notebook at her and was surprised that she was able to pry her fingers out of the leather upholstery in time to catch it.
“What’s this for?” He held up his matching notebook.
“Homework. We’re going to find out everything we can about one another and write it down in these. And then we’re going to memorize the information. It will help us pull off the charade of being happily married.” It might also help to take her mind off her fear of crashing.
“What kinds of things?” she wanted to know, opening the cover and digging a pen out of her purse. She was, apparently, ready to fall in with his suggestion immediately, and he wondered if she was thinking it was a good distraction, too.
“I’ve compiled a list of questions.” After he’d given up on sleep somewhere around three in the morning. “Like we should probably know each other’s full names.” She winced and he wondered if she already knew his.
“Okay. What’s yours?” Okay, so she didn’t know. Now it was his turn to wince as he said,
“Walmond Ian McCann.”
“Uh- Could you repeat that?”
“Which part?”
“The first one.”
“Walmond? Want me to spell it for you? It’s like almond with a ‘w.’” He watched the corners of her mouth twitch as she tried valiantly to hide a smile. “My father liked the meaning of it.”
“Which is?”
“Powerful. I guess it didn‘t occur to him that it wasn‘t a very popular name.”
“Oh. I guess I thought you were a junior. You go by Ian.”
“Wouldn’t you?“ he asked, only slightly sarcastically. “Okay, what’s yours?” Again, the wince.
“Couldn’t we move to the next question?”
“When you know my ugly little secret? I don‘t think so. C’mon. Give it up.” Hanging her head for a moment, she took a deep breath then looked straight at him.
“Anna Pheodora Blake.”
“Excuse me?” He was positive he hadn’t heard that correctly.
“Which part didn’t you understand?”
“The second.”
“Pheodora?” she asked, parroting his answers to her questions about Walmond. “Want me to spell that for you?”
“I think you’re going to have to,” he admitted, unable to hide his grin. Annie couldn’t help it and grinned back at him as she spelled it aloud.
“I guess our parents had something in common in choosing uncommon names because they liked the meanings.”
“Sounds like it to me. What does yours mean?”
“Anna means ‘graceful.’ Pheodora means ‘God’s gift.’”
Ian started to say what was on the tip of his tongue, which was, “It would almost have to mean something like that, wouldn’t it?” However, by sheer force of will, he stopped himself. But not before Annie noticed.
“Go ahead and say it,” she encouraged He shook his head vigorously and she chuckled. “Go ahead, I’ve heard it all. I’m tough enough to take it.”
“Not a good way to start a marriage, I think. Even one like ours. I will say this though. I used to think that there wasn’t a worse name in the world than Walmond.”
“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”
~~~~
Annie McCann.
Ian had a wife and her name was Annie McCann.
He glanced down at her, where she stood, leaning against him, mostly asleep, as the elevator took them up to what as close as one could get to a penthouse apartment this region of the world. Lansing couldn’t boast of any skyscrapers, except for the old Michigan National Tower anyway.
When the doors opened into the wide foyer, he had to pull her along with him because, if he’d taken his arm from around her waist, he was sure she would have curled up on the plush blue carpeting for what was left of the night.
It had been an extremely long and tiresome day and he, too, was exhausted. Though he’d been able to nap a bit during the return home flight. Only to awaken to a ghostly white bride who was again clutching the armrests because they’d run into a bit of turbulence. Given the vast amount of flights he’d taken over the years, it was nothing he’d have had the slightest concern over.
To a novice air traveler he supposed that an imminent crash might be uppermost in their mind. It certainly had been uppermost in Annie’s.
He dropped her duffle bag in the hall and flipped the light switch thinking that might wake her enough so she could get herself into bed in his spare room, but another glance showed that her eyes were almost completely closed and he had to grin.
She was pretty much asleep on her feet!
Without wasting time, he leaned down and ripped the sheet and comforter back, lowered her onto the mattress and quickly slipped her shoes off, before tucking her in snugly.
At the doorway he turned to see that she had curled up on her side and was fast asleep. Snoring ever so softly.
Nodding his head in satisfaction as he turned the light off and closed the door almost all the way behind him. It never hurt to be in possession of important information. The fact that Annie snored could come in handy someday. If she were, like most women, appalled at the thought.
Not that he really believed in blackmail for evil purposes, but he might lower himself to threaten to reveal her secret-if she didn’t make him a batch of the hot fudge cake she’d served the night before at her parent's house.
Of course he really never would tell anyone. But she didn’t have to know that.
Yawning mightily, Ian walked into his private bathroom so he could brush his teeth before settling in for a few more hours of sleep. It wasn’t until he raised a glass to rinse his mouth that the flash of gold caught his eye.
His wedding band.
He stared at its reflection in the mirror for several long moments.
It was funny but the few times he’d actually thought about the day he might marry, and especially his wedding night, this particular scenario had never once crossed his mind.
~~~~
A
nnie was surprised. She’d wondered if she might be disoriented when she woke in a strange place but, though she couldn’t recall entering the apartment, or lying down on the full sized bed, fully clothed, she knew immediately where she was.
In the guest room in her new husband’s apartment.
Sitting up she glanced down at the rings now circling the third finger of her left hand. Ian had spared no expense there. Given a choice, she would have chosen a simple band but he’d overruled her objections immediately.
Though the marriage was nothing more than a sham, appearances must be kept up, for both their sakes, he‘d insisted. And so she sported a larger diamond than she ever would have chosen, set in etched white gold bands.
Sighing deeply she rose from the bed, picked up her duffle bag and went in search of a bathroom. Sleeping in the clothes she’d worn for more than twenty-four hours left her feeling more than a little grungy!
~~~~
Wow. During the long flights Ian had given her volumes of information about himself, as she had done for him. One tidbit had been that he didn’t cook.
He hadn’t exaggerated even a little bit, Annie discovered a short while later. Mother Hubbard had nothing on Ian McCann.
His many cupboards contained a set of dishes that would serve no more than four people, half a box of crackers, a bag of potato chips with mostly crumbs in the bottom, and two packages of chocolate creme sandwich cookies. And nothing else.
The refrigerator wasn’t much better. A banana, a can of coffee, a two inch thick slab of cheese, several bottles of water, two bottles of cola, and jars of catsup, mayonnaise and mustard.
So much for making breakfast, she thought, reaching in for the coffee.
“I did warn you,” Ian said from the doorway, startling her so that she clutched her hand to her throat.
“Oh! You scared me!” she gasped, her heart pounding like a jackhammer.
“Sorry,” he said with an unapologetic grin. “Did you think I mean to starve you?”
Annie shook her head, trying not to stare. She’d never seen Ian in anything other than dress clothes. Even at the company picnics, he’d dressed in casual slacks and polo shirts. This morning he wore black tee shirt tucked into the waistband of softly faded blue jeans.
She wished he didn’t look quite so handsome standing there.
“Uh- No,” she finally answered. “I just didn’t think you meant it quite so literally when you said you didn’t cook.”
“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?” Apparently today was his turn to repeat her question. She chose to ignore it and asked, instead,
“Do you object if I cook?” She watched him shrug.
“Have at it if you want. But don’t feel like you have to. Food isn’t all that high on my list of priorities.”
“It must rate right up there somewhere because you’re still walking around,” Annie said with just the smallest bit of sarcasm. He shrugged again.
“The only food worth eating in my book is a steak and baked potato, bacon and those cookies you saw in the cupboard. I haven’t been sufficiently impressed with other things to care one way or another.”
“So you’re basically a ‘food is for fuel’ kind of guy?”
“Pretty much, I guess. So cook away if you want.” He glanced at the cupboards. “We’ll have to get some groceries first, though.”
“Ya think?” She couldn’t help but chuckle and was soon joined by Ian. “I’ll make a list.”
“Make it in the car. We need to find somewhere for breakfast and then beat it over to your folk's house.”
As they walked into the elevator, Annie pulled the little notebook out that he’d given her on the plane.
“So steak, potatoes, bacon and cookies go on the ‘acceptable’ list. Anything I should put on the ‘hate’ side?” He appeared to mull the question over for a moment then scowled slightly.
“Pasta salad and green bean casserole.”
“Any pasta salad in particular?”
“Any pasta and salad dressing that share the same space would make it onto the ‘hate’ list.”
~~~~
Ian had lied to his wife. And during the first twelve hours of marriage no less. He had been more than sufficiently impressed with her hot fudge cake. But seeing a beautiful woman standing in his kitchen wearing blue jeans and a sleeveless white top, auburn curls tamed a little from a recent washing, had wiped most thoughts from his mind.
He caught himself up short. Beautiful woman? No matter that she was his wife, thoughts like that could cause complications in an already complicated situation, and he sure didn‘t need that. Though he supposed he didn’t mind the fact that she wasn’t, as his grandmother might have said, homelier than a bent shovel.
He also supposed that he was glad that she had decided to make the best of a bad situation. His suggestion, on the return flight, that they make things as easy on themselves as possible and at least try to be friends had obviously been a worthwhile one.
“Are you going to come in for a minute or do you just want me to send Dad out?” Annie was asking. Ian hadn’t even realized they’d arrived at the Blake house. Not a good thing, given that he was the one doing the driving.
“I’ll come in and say hello to your mother,” he said quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed that he’d been lost in thought. “She’d probably think it was odd if I didn’t.”
“Trust me, she would,” Annie said dryly, turning to face him and lowering her eyelids. “Ian, I hope you know how grateful I am that-”
“Stop it,” he snapped, brushing off her thanks. “I like your father. I don’t want to see him go to prison anymore than you do, Annie. And this is helping me, too. I don’t have to wait another seven years to escape my father. I’m just sorry that you have to be caught in the middle.”
“Well, I still want you to know that I appreciate it. More than I can say.”
“You're welcome,” he told her grudgingly. Her feeling beholden to him didn’t set well. “Now I’m sure I just saw a curtain move so someone is waiting for us to come in.”
As he’d done every time they got in or out of a car, he walked around to her side and held the door. He might not have dated often in the past, but his grandmother had instilled in him the qualities of a gentleman. Something she’d made sure he understood extended beyond the “I do’s.” Forever, in fact.
“Ready for the show to begin?” he asked, taking hold of her hand. Annie nodded, not looking at all sure that she was. “From here on out, we’re deliriously happy newlyweds.” She laughed a little.
“Deliriously happy?”
“Deliriously.”
~~~~
“You both look tired,” was the first thing Maddie said when they walked into the living room.
“Yesterday was a pretty long day,” Ian told her, walking over and leaning down to kiss her cheek. A little belatedly, Annie thought, he asked, “Was that okay? I guess I should have asked first.” Her mother laughed merrily.
“You're married to our daughter now, which makes you our new son. Of course it’s okay.”
“Good, then I’ll do it again,” he said facetiously. And he did. Then he grabbed Annie’s hand again and pulled her to the sofa where they sat, his arm around her shoulders.
“So tell me about the wedding. Well, the ceremony,” Maddie insisted, looking at her husband, who sat on the arm of her chair still looking pretty miserable. “They make such an adorable couple, don’t they, Paul?”
“They do,” he murmured, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“It was all very nice, Mom,” Annie cut in, hoping to spare her father anymore grief than he was already suffering. “Unfortunately all we could find was an Elvis impersonator, but he was dressed really nice in one of those white jumpsuits. The kind with all the sparkles. I’m not sure exactly what that ceremony was about but it was short and to the point. And he did sign the license so I suppose it’s legal. At least in Las Vegas.”
“Annie Blake! Please
tell me you’re pulling my leg!” Maddie gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Actually it’s Annie McCann now,” Ian corrected with a smile. “Shame on you, Annie. She is pulling your leg, Maddie. We were married by a very respectable minister in an actual church. And I have a couple of pictures to prove it.”
“Pictures! Oh, can I see them? Please?”
Surprised, Annie watched him pull them out of the pocket of his tee shirt. Before he could get back up, her father scurried across the room to retrieve them and take them back to her mother.
“Oh, these are wonderful,” she exclaimed. “You had flowers, Annie!”
“Yes I did, Mom. Roses and baby’s breath, just like we always planned.”
Actually it had been pretty traditional for what had amounted to a spur-of-the-moment elopement. Ian had worn a very handsome charcoal gray suit and Annie had worn the palest pink lace, mid-calf length dress, purchased to wear in a cousin’s wedding the previous spring. Very nice, really, even though it wasn’t the white gown she‘d always planned on wearing on her wedding day.
But then she’d always planned that, when she got married, it would be to a man she loved and would make a life with. Not a man she barely knew with a five year time limit hanging over her head.
“Well, Maddie. Much as I hate to cut this short, Paul and I need to head over to the office for a couple of hours. I don’t know if he mentioned it, but we need to take care of a couple of things we couldn’t get to earlier in the week. It shouldn’t take long at all, should it, Paul?”
“No, not long,” her father said quietly. Almost too quietly. Annie sure hoped he got with the program soon. Before her mother grew suspicious.
“Will the two of you be able to stay for supper?” Maddie was asking. Annie looked at Ian, who said,
“There’s nothing I’d enjoy more, thank you.” Then he kissed Annie quickly, promised to be back as soon as possible, and left with her father.
“My but you really picked a winner,” Maddie decided, smiling happily. “Handsome, charming. And he seems to be quite the gentleman.”
“He’s all that and then some, Mom.”
A Fine Mess Page 4